HOW THE CUNNING OF PANURGE, WITH THE AID OF EUSTHENES AND CARPALIM,
DISCOMFITED SIX HUNDRED AND SIXTY HORSEMEN.
[Illustration: Initial S.]
Starting from Rouen, Pantagruel, Panurge, Epistemon, Eusthenes, and
Carpalim arrived at Harfleur, but remained at that city only one hour,
when they took to sea,--a friendly North-North-west wind blowing at
the time,--and, with all sails set, in a short time passing by Porto
Sancto, and Madeira, touched at the Canaries.
[Illustration: THE VOYAGE BEGINS.]
Once more on blue water, keeping; close to the Senegal coast of Africa,
they skirted by Cape Blanco and Cape Verde, and, still steering
south-east, sailed on, day after day, until, after weathering the Cape
of Good Hope, they touched at the friendly kingdom of Melinda. Taking
to ship again after resting a week in Melinda, they made good progress
with a wind from over the mountains, and, after passing by Meden, Uti,
Uden, Galasin, by the Isles of the Fairies, and skirting the kingdom of
Anchoria, finally cast anchor in the port of Utopia, which is a little
over three leagues from the chief city of the Amaurotes, that was
then being hotly besieged by the _Dipsodes_, who, as you know, called
themselves the Thirsty People.
When they had rested a bit and got their land-legs well on again,
Pantagruel, who, even in sea-sickness,--and he had, in fact, been very
sick,--had been thinking of the perils in which his father's kingdom
had been placed, remarked: "My children, it is lucky that those rascals
have not occupied this port, and it is just as strange as lucky,
because the city is not more than three leagues off. But, before we
march to its relief, it would be wise to consider what is best to be
done. Are you all resolved to live or die with me?"
"Yes, Your Highness, yes!" responded all. "Count on us as you might
count on your fingers."
"I have somehow a trouble on my mind," Pantagruel went on to say.
"I know neither in what order nor in what number are my enemies who
besiege the city. If I could once know this, we should more surely be
able to help my poor people."
Then all the four companions cried out together: "Leave that to us!
This day shall not pass before we bring Your Highness news."
Panurge, as was to be expected, was the first to step forward.
"I undertake, my lord," he said, "to enter into their camp in spite
of their guards. What is more, I shall dine with them at their own
expense,--not one of them knowing who I am; visit their artillery;
count the number of tents of their captains; and strut at my will
through the bands without ever being once detected. For _I_ am of the
lineage of Zopyrus."
Then Master Epistemon came forward:--
"I know all the stratagems of the ancient captains and champions of
Antiquity; and all the ruses and artifices of the camps. Your Highness
need have no fear of my being caught, as I shall make them believe of
you what I please. For _I_ am of the lineage of Sinon."
Then Eusthenes:--
"I shall get through their trenches under the noses of their sentinels;
for I shall pass through them, and--in spite of them, even though each
one were as strong as a bull--break their legs and wrench their arms
for them as I pass. For _I_ am of the lineage of Hercules."
Then Carpalim:--
"As for me, Your Royal Highness, I promise to slip into the camp if
ever a bird can fly there, because my body is so light that I can jump
their trenches and leap through their tents before their keenest eyes
can see me. I am afraid of neither arrows nor bow-shots. As for their
swift horses, I laugh at them. I undertake to skim over an ear of corn
or the tall meadow grass, without either ever bending under me. For _I_
am of the lineage of Camilla, the Amazon."
Carpalim had scarcely declared that he was of the lineage of Camilla,
the Amazon, when a great shout was heard; and the whole party, turning
round to find whence the noise came, saw six hundred light cavalry
riding at full speed to see what ship had come into port, and to
capture the crew if fast riding and loud shouting could do it.
Pantagruel's big nostrils opened and shut, and went up and down in
excitement, as he roared out:--
"My lads, get you at once to the ship! You see our enemies there? I
shall kill them, if they were ten times their number, just as easily
as though they were so many beasts. So get in there, and you will have
some sport!"
But Panurge, who, if a coward, was very sly, had been hatching a plan
of his own, and answered:--
"No, my lord, there is no need of your taking so much trouble. On the
contrary, you are the one to go into the ship, both you and the others,
for I, myself, undertake, singly and without aid, to settle those
rogues. But there is no time for delay. Seconds are worth hours now!"
The others joined in with Panurge.
"Well said, my lord. Let Your Highness retire, and we shall help
Panurge in such a way that you will soon learn what we can do when we
try."
Pantagruel, who saw that trick, not fight, was to win the battle, was
highly amused at all this. As he started to go back into the ship, he
said:--
"I am willing, but on one condition. If those rascals are too strong
for you, call out for me."
[Illustration: PANURGE DISCOMFITS THE HORSEMEN.]
The first thing Panurge did was to get two stout ropes from the
vessel. After tying these to the capstan on the deck he pulled them to
the shore, where he twined them round and round into two circles, one
very large, and the other a smaller circle inside of the larger one.
After he had his two circles ready, he said to Epistemon:--
"Go into the ship and wait until I call out. Then you will turn the
capstan as strong and as quickly as you can, drawing up, of course,
both these ropes as you turn."
Panurge had also a word of warning for Eusthenes and Carpalim:--
"Wait here, my lads, until the enemy come near, then make signs that
you surrender. But take care not to get your legs inside of these
ropes. All you will have to do is, while appearing to yield yourselves,
to get as far away from those fellows as you can."
Then Panurge, all in a hurry, rushed into the vessel once more,
and caught up a bundle of straw and a small barrel of gunpowder,
the contents of which he scattered along inside and outside of the
two circles of ropes. Holding in his hand a bit of lighted paper,
and putting on his most innocent face, he was ready for the men
on horseback, who just then came thundering down. The first rank
came nearly as far as the ship, but, because the sand was yielding,
forty-four men and as many horses were brought tumbling to the ground.
Seeing the first line fall, and believing that their comrades had met
some resistance, the others were about to rush to the rescue; but just
here was heard the mild voice of Panurge:--
"Gentlemen, you will pardon me, if I say it is not we who have
stretched your noble companions there, but the sea-water, which makes
the sand slippery. We surrender at your good pleasure."
Eusthenes, and Carpalim, and Epistemon, who was on deck, said the same
thing.
But, even while he was talking, the cunning Panurge had been sliding
off and, when he saw that all the horsemen were drawn well within the
circles, and that his two friends had got to a safe distance, making
way for the cavalry who were pressing forward to see the ship, shouted
out suddenly to Epistemon:--
"Turn! turn!"
Hearing these words, Epistemon began to turn for his life, and the
two ropes twisted themselves around the legs of the horses in such a
fashion that, in falling, they brought their riders down with them.
Those in the rear, seeing the trick, drew their swords to cut the
ropes, and so escape; but Panurge was quite ready for them. It was when
they did so that he fired his powder-train, which burned up every one
of the company, men and horses, except one. He only escaped the flames
because he was mounted on a Turkish horse of great swiftness, which
bore him off with his light hoofs. But when Carpalim saw this he said
to himself: "Here, now, is a chance to show that _I_ am of the lineage
of Camilla!" and ran after him with such speed that he caught up with
the Turkish steed within less than a hundred steps, and, leaping on his
croup, hugged the rider from behind and brought him a prisoner to the
ship.
Pantagruel was, of course, in a most jovial mood, and praised to the
skies the cunning of his friends. Nothing would do but that they should
celebrate their victory in eating and drinking, and the prisoner
along with them. It was a merry feast on the shore, for all but the
poor captive, who was not at all sure that Pantagruel was not going
to gobble him up whole, which he might have done--his throat being so
large--with as much ease as he would have taken down a sugar-plum.
Indeed, the prisoner would not have made any greater show in the
Giant's throat than a grain of millet in an ass' mouth.