HOW THE LARK ENDED.
The water had risen around the demilune, covering the entire line of
works except the tall towers above the two ends and on either side of
the central gate. The raft was steered toward the tower at the western
end. This was a dome-shaped structure wrought by bending together and
lashing several leaves, which then looked like the crown of a peaked
hat. The inside was neatly tapestried with silk, and on all sides of the
opening, which looked downward, were strung guy ropes and cross lines.
Above the whole, was curved, like the plume of a helmet, a leaf with a
long stem, whose point was bent downward and fastened to the roof.[AK]
This formed a watch tower or lookout for a sentinel who could thence
scan the surrounding space and give warning of approaching danger.
"Yonder is the lookout, lads!" said Twadeils as the raft swung toward
the tower; "but he seems to be taking it very coolly, for although he
must see us, he makes no sign of giving warning. But, we had better not
trust to that; push on as fast as possible, and put him beyond the power
of raising an alarm. Give way, lads, give way heartily!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!" was the answer, and the raft soon lay alongside the
tower.
"Fasten the painter to one of those lines," was the next order. "Gear,
you may lead the cavalrymen to the lookout, and I'll head the attack on
the main tower."
"All right," said Gear; "I know the company which the fellow up there
belongs to. A keen lot they are, too, as bright as the scarlet uniform
that gives them the name of the 'Cardinal Company.'[AL] Come on,
Brownies!"
[Illustration: FIG. 69.--Leaves Lashed or Sewed Into a Turret Den.]
He seized the tower guy ropes, and guiding his course by the stems of
the leaves, began the ascent followed closely by his comrades, Saddler,
Halfrick and Barnit. Up they went, hand over hand, everyone trying to
beat his leader to the top, which they were not long in reaching. As
they hung at the edge a moment and looked over it, they saw the Pixie
watchman standing rampant at the opposite side of the lookout. His
scarlet tunic shone bright in the moonlight, and the metallic green of
his fangs glistened as he gnashed them together in defiance.
"Surrender!" shouted Gear.
[Illustration: FIG. 70.--"Standing Rampant."]
Cardinalis shook one arm threateningly by way of answer. The Brownies
now made a rush toward the Pixie, but before they could reach him he
vaulted into the air, and passing over his assailants' heads, lit on the
opposite side of the lookout. The Brownies could not check their speed
and tumbled against and over one another, as they reached the spot where
the Pixie had stood.
"Well jumped," cried Gear, recovering himself, "but you shall not miss
us next time." He seized the dragline, which the vaulting legionaries
always stretch behind them when they jump, and gave it a stout tug as he
faced about. Cardinalis cut the line with his claw, and turning sharply
faced his foes, and as they approached backed quietly down the stern of
the leaf to the roof of the tower.[AM]
"Foiled again," cried Gear, as the squad of Brownies scurried after the
retreating Pixie, "but you can't escape us a third time." His boast was
too soon made, however, for before his party could reach the tower,
Cardinalis had scampered down the guy ropes to the Brownie raft. Thither
he was followed by Gear and his men who were now well warmed to their
work and boiling with vexation at their two failures. Halfrick was the
first to reach the raft, and as he charged with poised spear, Cardinalis
sprang upon him. Halfrick sank upon one knee, dropped the end of his
spear to the deck, and received upon the point the force of the assault.
The spear point penetrated the Pixie's breast, but the staff was
shattered, and Halfrick borne to the deck. His comrades were at his side
in an instant, but before he was relieved, the dying Pixie buried his
fangs in his shoulder.
[Illustration: FIG. 71.--"Well jumped!"]
"Has any one a cruse of Lily Balm?" asked Gear. No one answered. The
thoughtless fellows had not counted upon accidents and wounds when they
planned their lark.
"Too bad, too bad!" Gear exclaimed. "But we must do the next best
thing." He tore the skirts of his coat into strips and tied a bandage
tightly around the shoulder between the hurt part and the body. He then
put his lips to the wound and sucked the poison into his mouth. Halfrick
had already fallen into a stupor, and was laid in an easy position upon
the raft, where his comrades watched him with sad countenances.
In the meanwhile how fared it with Twadeils and his party? They had
little difficulty in mounting to the tower, but as they entered the
leafy dome, they found themselves faced by the huge proportions of
Shamrock, the tower-keeper. Near him were two Pixies belonging to the
Vaulting Legion who had taken refuge from the flood within the tower,
and whose bright eyes shone out of the deep shadows wherein they lay.
The Brownies had a hard task before them, for they must hang to the
tapestried sides of the tower with one hand, while they kept the sword
arm free. Moreover, they were to attack from beneath, and face an
assault which coming from above would be much more serious. But they
knew nothing of fear and little of prudence, and pushed on holding their
swords above them, which thus formed a bristling circle of points
against which their enemies must cast themselves if they chose to
attack. The moonlight shone brightly upon objects beneath, but little
got within the dome, and all above them was in shadow; only the outlines
of the Pixies dimly showed against the white tapestry of the walls.
Silently and slowly, but steadily the circle of Brownie sword points
moved upward into the shadow, narrowing as they rose. The affray
promised to be a bloody one, and even the most reckless of the party had
begun to feel the sobriety of the moment, when the advance was suddenly
arrested by a voice calling from above them.
"Halt! We surrender!" It was Pixie Shamrock that spoke.
"Halt!" echoed Twadeils, although the command was scarcely needed, for
his company had stopped at the first word. Yet, they suspected a Pixie
trick, and every arm held the sword blade more firmly, and all eyes were
more keenly on the alert.
Shamrock perceived that the Brownies distrusted him, and again spoke:
"We are in earnest. No trick is intended. Descend, and we will follow
you and give ourselves up. We have good reasons for our strange action.
We have been deserted and deceived by Spite the Spy and our own friends,
and shall not now throw our lives away to please or profit them. You may
trust my word."
[Illustration: FIG. 72.--Shamrock's Fernleaf Tower.]
After a brief whispered consultation, Twadeils concluded it wise policy
to accept the offered surrender, and gave orders to descend. It must be
confessed that he was glad to do this, for he began to fear that serious
results would follow, and even that if they should be victorious,
precious lives would be lost. There was no relaxing vigilance as the
Brownies descended, and when they reached the raft and saw the senseless
form of Halfrick stretched upon the deck, they were still better
satisfied that they had found so easy an issue from their adventure.
The Pixies, true to their word for once at least, came down quietly, and
let themselves be bound, after which Shamrock told the following story,
which seemed strange indeed to his captors: "Our sentries were stationed
last evening as usual, although it was expected that Fort Spinder would
be abandoned some time during the night. 'Keep up an active patrol,'
said the Captain of the Guard. 'Show yourselves freely to the enemy's
pickets, until you get orders from me to retire. Then quietly and
hastily withdraw from your posts, and we will go off in the last ship
load.'
"That seemed all right, and the sentinels on duty, of whom we are a
part, suspected nothing when, during the night, the relief guard were
ordered to headquarters under pretence of receiving some secret
instructions from the Chief. But they never returned. We kept watch long
after the time for changing guard; no corporal appeared. Then we sent a
messenger to the fort to see what was the matter. He soon returned
saying that the fort was abandoned. Not a Pixie was left except the
sentinels at the posts! We had been fooled, betrayed, deserted and given
over to death by our selfish Chief, who left us as decoys to keep up the
appearance that the fort was occupied, in order to deceive you Brownies.
A madder lot of Pixies never was seen. If we could have gotten hold of
our chiefs we would have made mincemeat of them in short order.
"But storming and swearing didn't help matters. What should we do? That
was the question. We even thought of going straight to your camp and
blowing on the whole mean pack, and would have done it, I think, only we
feared you folks would think it a bit of Spite's strategy and cut our
throats for our pains. In the midst of our deliberations a flood burst
upon us from some unseen quarter. The very witches seemed to be abroad
and conspiring against us. We could not imagine the source, as there was
no rain. The water-pixies readily escaped to the land and are now in
hiding somewhere, but the rest of us fled from point to point until at
last we were cooped up in the towers. Now you can understand why, being
thus betrayed, confused and mystified, we had little stomach for
fighting, and preferred to surrender, if for nothing else than to get
even with our miserable dog of a chief, Spite the Spy. If you'll take
the trouble to go to the other towers you'll probably find all our
comrades in the same mood."
Here was startling news indeed for the Brownies! What should they do? At
all events, they wouldn't tell their prisoners that they were only a
chance squad of runaways out on a lark! Some serious duty seemed to be
before them. The suggestion to visit the other towers and bag all the
Pixies therein was a strong temptation; but ought they not now to push
straight to camp? An unlooked for circumstance brought the question to a
swift conclusion.
The water began to subside almost as rapidly as it had risen, but the
Brownies were so intent upon Shamrock's story that they failed to note
the fact. The raft's bow had been tied by a short rope to the tower, and
as the water ran out, the stern of the vessel gradually settled, and by
the time the Pixie tale was fairly told, was quite out of water and
loosely lodged upon a clump of grasses. Suddenly these gave way and the
raft began to tilt into an inclined plane.
"Look out, lads!" cried Hosson, "Hold fast all! The raft's upsetting!"
The warning came just in time to allow Halfrick's attendants to seize
and save him from being shot into the stream. Highjinks, finding
himself slipping down, flung himself into the water by a double
somersault, and several others joined him, while those who clung to the
raft were flung together in a huddle, Brownies and Pixies sprawling over
and clinging to one another. Wetman, who chanced to be near the bow,
clambered up and cut the painter, whereupon the raft fell into the
stream with a splash, and the water washing over the deck gave the crew
a ducking. The incident excited the mirthfulness of the Brownies, who
broke into merry laughter, and those on board began to chaff those in
the stream. Some one hailed Highjinks, who was cutting lively antics in
the water, and struck up a familiar doggerel, something after the
fashion of modern college ditties.
I.
"Here, dear
Little son,
Go slow,
Do not run!"
Go slow--oh--_er_!
II.
"Down town
Do not stray,
There dare
Not to play!"
Not to play--ay--_er_!
III.
"Near here
Is a well.
Poor More
In it fell."
In it fell--el--_er_!
No sooner was the song started than all the crew joined in it. The
strain was a dolorous one, and the refrain ended in a peculiar note on
the syllable "er," combining something of a sigh, a shriek and a grunt,
upon which all the singers laid the full stress of their voices, and
stopped with a sudden jerk. The whole effect was comical; and the third
verse seemed so pat to the case in hand that it was followed by a roar
of laughter that fairly raised the night echoes.
Ferrie, who was something of a wag, saw Gear splashing and spluttering
in vain efforts to ascend the raft, for he was but an indifferent
swimmer, and broke into an extemporized verse:
Here, dear
Little Gear,
Come quick
And I'll pick
You out of the creek--eek--_er_!
The effort was hailed with applause, and the refrain was repeated with
rousing effect by the chorus:
Out of the creek--eek--_er_!
Gear took the sally good naturedly, and as he was quite as quick at
repartee as Ferrie, sang back from the waves, sputtering and stuttering
as he sang:
M--m--Merrie Ferrie,
Sh--sh--shallow fellow,
Shut quick,
Or I'll stick
You into the creek--eek--_er_!
"Good!" shouted the Brownies, with another hearty peal of laughter, as
they repeated the refrain. What a trifling matter will pass for genuine
wit among friends who are all in a good humor, and ready to be pleased
with every honest attempt at innocent fun!
But Twadeils thought that matters had gone quite far enough, indeed, too
far. "Come, come, lads," he said, "this must end. Matters have taken too
serious a turn for further mirth. Our lark must end just here. Pull the
raft to shore."
"All right, Captain," said Highjinks, who had drawn himself out of the
water, and stood on the end of the raft shaking himself with many
grimaces. "I'll reduce myself to order, and help reduce your order to
execution." Whereupon he plunged again into the flood, and aided by one
or two others soon had the raft free from the entangling remains of the
demilune. In a few moments it touched the bank where, with some merry
words of mock farewell, it was abandoned.
Twadeils now called his comrades around him. "Brownies," he said, "our
adventure has taken a more serious and important turn than I had
expected. We have a wounded comrade whom we must get into the hospital
as soon as possible; we have these prisoners to deliver to Captain
Bruce, and above all we have news of the utmost value, which ought not
to be held back a moment longer than necessary."
"But is the news true, comrade?" interrupted Gear. "Aren't we being
gulled by these Pixies? Lying is their native speech."
"I have thought of that," replied Twadeils, "and am not willing to go
into camp with such a story on the naked word of our prisoners; although
I believe, from several circumstantial proofs, that they have told the
truth this time, if never before. I propose to send out a scout to find
out the facts. We shall wait here for his report. What say you?"
All agreed with their leader, and the whole party clamored to be sent as
scouts; but Twadeils appointed his brother Junior, with Barck and
Howroad. Junior pushed toward the fort, gradually bearing in the
direction of the central gate. Soon the party passed a clump of ox-eyed
daisies whose tall blooms towered above the fort walls.
"Here is a good place to make an observation," said Junior. "Barck,
mount that tallest stem and tell us what you see."
Barck as a sailor was well used to climbing, and in a few moments
reached the blossom; but just as he was clambering over the edge of the
white leaves, he seemed to miss his footing and fell to the ground. His
fall was broken by a clump of grass, but he lay stunned and motionless.
[Illustration: FIGS. 73 and 74.--"Standing Rampant, with Claws Uplifted
as Though to Strike."]
His comrades ran to him and tried to restore him. "I never knew Barck to
make a slip of that sort before," said Howroad; "he's one of the surest
footed topmen in the fleet, and can climb like a monkey."
"True enough," said Junior, "and I don't understand it, but we must not
allow this accident to thwart our purpose. Do you watch our comrade, and
I'll try my luck at climbing for an observation."
So saying, he began the as cent, and as he was a skillful athlete
readily reached the top. He took the precaution to peep over the edge
before he got upon the flower, but saw nothing. The coast was clear! He
stood up and turned to survey the fort, but was startled by a rustling
noise at the further margin of the daisy. He turned, and drew his sword.
"Who is here?" he demanded.
[Illustration: FIG. 75.--Turncoat Tom on a Daisy. (Misumena vatia).]
There was no answer. But now gazing steadily in the direction from which
the sound came, he saw the dim outlines of a Pixie standing rampant with
claws uplifted as though to strike. The mystery of Barck's fall was
solved! Junior recognized in the creature before him one of the
Laterigrade Legion, a well known character. His uniform was generally
yellow, and he was in the habit of ambushing in yellow flowers. The
daisy was a favorite resort wherein he would lay alone for many days,
hugging the yellow heart of the large flower, and quite concealed from a
careless observer. Sometimes he resorted to other plants, and then his
uniform took the tint of their flowers, a fact which gave him the
popular name of Turncoat Tom.[AN] As Barck had clambered upon the daisy
unthinking of danger, Turncoat Tom had struck him on the head, and the
mariner, quite off his guard, was knocked to the ground.
"You miserable, sneaking Turncoat," cried the Brownie, wrathful at his
friend's mishap. "You shall pay for this dearly!" and thereupon he
assaulted the Pixie furiously.
A duel on a daisy! It was a strange occurrence even in Brownie world.
The duel was of short duration, for a skillful stroke of Junior's sword
severed one of Turncoat Tom's claws, whereupon he sidled, crabwise, over
the edge of the daisy, after the fashion of his tribe, and leaped sheer
of the flower into the grass beneath, fortunately on the side opposite
to where Barck lay. Junior peered over the edge and saw the form of his
wounded adversary glide into the shadows and disappear.
"Well," said the Brownie, as he put up his sword, "I dare say that is
another of the abandoned sentinels, and he has been punished enough. Let
him go!"
He turned once more to survey the fort, which lay under the full light
of the moon, quite exposed in every part. It was silent as a cemetery.
Not a sentinel was seen at the gates, on the walls, on the towers, or on
the parade ground. Not a boat lay at the landing. Not a sign of life
anywhere except on the Arenicola tower, where the grim flag of the
Pixies floated from its staff, having evidently been left, like the
sentinels of the demilune, to keep up the impression that the fort was
still occupied.
[Illustration: FIG. 76.--"A Duel on a Daisy." Junior and Turncoat Tom.]
Well satisfied, Junior descended and was pleased to find that Barck had
now recovered consciousness. He had no idea what had happened to him,
only knowing that as he crawled upon the daisy a sudden stroke, like a
shock of electricity, had fallen upon his head and smitten him to the
ground. With a sailor's superstition, he was disposed to think the fall
the result of some miserable witch work. Junior having relieved his
mind on this subject, dispatched Howroad to report to his brother and
recommend that all the Brownies join him with their prisoners. Twadeils
approved, and by the time the party had come up Barck was well enough to
join in the march with a little aid, and was soon as lively as the rest.
All were now in the best of spirits. Twadeils resolved to pass through
the fort by the central gate, go out by the water gate, and re-enter
camp by the lake front.
"Lads," he said, when he had told his plans, "we had expected to slip
through the lines before reveille, be safe in our quarters for morning
duty, and keep our lark to ourselves as a theme for campfire yarns. But
all that is now done for. Public duty requires us to go in openly and
make a full breast of all our doings. We deserve punishment, of course,
and shall get it; but we may hope to get off easily, for we bring great
news. Then, we have three Pixie prisoners; and as we go through the fort
we will haul down yonder black flag and carry it home as a trophy, and a
rare one it will be. The one drawback to all this is poor Halfrick
there. But let us hope that the Nurses can yet pull him through safely.
And now, attention! Forward, march!"
Off they set, then, in high spirits, which, however, they faithfully
kept within the bounds of quiet mirthfulness. They moved cautiously
until they had passed the central gate; but once within the fort, they
found that the place was beyond doubt deserted. Hosson and Wetman were
sent aloft to pull down the Pixie flag from Arenicola's Tower, and
having secured this valued trophy, they hurried homeward.
Notwithstanding their leader's warning, the highly excited Brownies
could not wholly restrain their joy as this emblem of their wicked
enemy's power descended from the proud place where it had floated in
triumph and defiance. Highjinks started in a jubilant voice a popular
camp song, which seemed quite pat to the occasion. His comrades at once
united with him in the rollicking strain, whose chorus at least we may
venture to quote.
"Del-en-_do_ est Car-tha-_go_!"
Car-tha-_go_ has got to go;
For the Romans, don't you know,
They have sworn it shall be so.
Car-tha-_go_ has got to go!
"Del-en-_do_ est Car-tha-_go_!"
Think of it! A Brownie scouting party singing a Brownie camp song in the
centre of a Pixie fort! It was an inspiring thought, and with a ringing
stress upon the refrain that woke loud echoes through the silent
streets, halls, and towers of Fort Spinder, the Brownies sang.
Then with three cheers and a tiger, the jolly crew once more yielded to
Twadeils' remonstrance, composed themselves to quietude and marched
briskly away. Nevertheless, frequently as they moved along they kept
time to the hummed notes of the chorus:
"Del-en-_do_ est Car-tha-_go_!"
Car-tha-_go_ has got to _go_!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AK: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote AL: Appendix, Note B.]
[Footnote AM: Appendix, Note C.]
[Footnote AN: The author seems to have in view a well-known Thomisoid
spider, known both in Europe and America as Misumena vatia.--ED.]