THE WISDOM OF THE PIXIES.
In the meantime how fared it with Faith and Sophia? The hours of
captivity dragged wearily along. The nagging and petty annoyance of
their keeper were hard to bear, but their chief dread was the coming of
Spite and Hide. They knew nothing of passing events, for not a creature
had been seen or heard since Spite and Raft left, except Tigrina. In the
depths of that Pixie cave they were shut off from the upper world, and
their grim and vigilant guardian kept them strictly to their rooms.
They had no heart at first to note the furnishings of their prison. But
as time passed their spirits somewhat rallied. They began to observe the
things around them, which were wrought with exquisite taste and skill.
Tapestry, carpets, sofas, cushions, stools, couches all were woven of
silk. There were pictures and statuary, books and portfolios bound
elegantly in yellow, purple and white silk, and illuminated with gold,
bronze and divers colors.[AW] The Nurses wandered from one to another of
these objects, which compelled their admiration and interest. The works
of art were exquisitely done.
Many of the books, the maidens noticed, treated of natural objects,
laws, forces, and phenomena. The wonders of air, earth, and sea were
told and illustrated in many volumes. Faith and Sophia were much
interested in these. Their fondness for Nature was great, and the books
and prints which lay around them in such wealth well nigh beguiled their
thoughts from their griefs.
"Look at this, Sophie," cried Faith, who had just happened upon a rare
volume rich in the arts of type, graver and brush. It lay by itself on a
circular stand, as one sometimes sees a costly family Bible in American
homes. It was plainly one of the treasures of Arachne Hall. Sophia came
to her friend's side and bent over the title page which read thus:
"THE WISDOM OF THE PIXIES.
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL OF THE LAWS OF PLUTO, AND THE WISE
SAYINGS OF THE SAGES OF PIXIELAND.
ANNO MUNDI;...[=M] [=M]...,...MDCCC."
"The Wisdom of the Pixies!" exclaimed Sophia. "That must be a curious
book indeed. I never knew before that our wicked enemies professed to
have a sacred book, or held to any religious notions at all. I am
anxious to know what these laws of Pluto may be. Turn over the page,
Faith."
"I am trying to make out this date," answered Faith. "The numerals have
been erased; they appear to have been written several times, amended
again and again, and finally left in this uncertain condition."
"That is just it, Faith. Observe that for the common date, 'Anno
Domini--year of our Lord,' has been placed 'Anno Mundi--year of the
World.' It is hard for a Pixie to acknowledge in any way the Blessed
Author of Salvation to Men. Let me see!--M stands for one thousand; M, M
for two thousand; the bar over the top means a thousand also. [=M] is
one thousand thousand, [=M], [=M] two thousand thousand, and just there
is a gap. The other legible figures count up eighteen hundred. That is
all I can make out; but I suppose the Pixies mean to say that the world
is a good many thousand times two hundred thousand years old! Do you
believe it?"
"That's a ripe old age, Sophie," said Faith, "and I neither believe nor
disbelieve. How can one tell? Our fathers only say that 'in the
beginning,' whenever that was, the world was made. But the further back
one can trace the being of the earth by established facts, just so much
further can we 'walk by sight' into the Eternity whose sovereign Lord we
receive by faith."
"True enough," replied Sophia, "the question interests me as a matter of
fact simply. As a matter of religion, I suppose it has little value. At
least, I have so heard the good minister Dr. Comingo say in conversation
with Governor Wille. But turn the page, please!"
Faith turned the leaves of the book, reading aloud the titles of the
chapters. Now and then she stopped, read a sentence or two, commented
upon the sentiment, and contrasted it with the good, pure, unselfish
laws of Brownieland. Our story need not be burdened with much of what
Faith and Sophia saw in the "Wisdom of the Pixies," but some of our
older readers will be curious to have a few extracts. Here they are,
with the headings or titles of the chapters given, for the most part:
Chapter I. On the First and Great Law--Take Care of Number One....
Chapter II. On the Chief End of Life--Eat, Drink and be Merry, for
To-morrow You Die.... Chapter IX. The End Justifies the Means....
Chapter X. On Attaining One's End: By Fair Means if You Can, by Foul
Means if You Must.... Chapter XV. Showing That an Individual Cannot
Wrong a Corporation--On the Right of Corporations to Plunder the
People.... Chapter XVI. Showing That it Cannot be Wrong to Rob a
Government.... Chapter XVII. Showing That Since the World Loves to be
"Humbugged," it is Quite Lawful to Gratify it, for One's Own
Advantage.... Chapter XXXV. Is Man an Automaton?
"Why, what a strange notion!" cried Sophie. "What sage starts that
question?"
"It appears to be some Chinese sage whose sentiments are quoted, if I
may judge by the name--Hoox Lee."
"And what has he to say about it?"
"Well, there is a good deal. Here's a section on the 'Evidence of
Transmitted Peculiarities' that starts out thus: Every one has noted the
interest that the young of the human species take in dolls, marionettes,
and exhibitions of such figures as the famous Punch and Judy, and Mrs.
Jarley's wax works. This is a universal characteristic. Whence does it
arise? Why should this instinctive sympathy of children with Automata
and their clumsy tricks, be so deep-seated and wide-spread? Evidently
here is a fact which the wise and candid philosopher should ponder.
Here, it may be, is a thread by which we may traverse the labyrinth of
man's mysterious nature. The deduction cannot well be resisted, that
this natural and inwrought sympathy with the Automaton, in all its
varying forms, is owing to the kinship of man himself with the Simian."
"Oh, that will do!" exclaimed Sophia breaking short the sentence. "That
certainly is quite as funny as the Punch and Judy which Governor Wille
had shown at his children's party, last Thanksgiving Day. But is Mr.
Hoox Lee in earnest do you think?"
"He seems to be," answered Faith, joining in with Sophia's quiet
laughter. "But here is the next chapter." Chapter XL. To be Found Out is
the Essence of Wrong.
"Turn on!"
Chapter XLIII. The Pleasure and Security of Drinking Liquors in
Moderation.... Chapter XLIX. Wine and Beer Drinking the Sovereign Remedy
for Drunkenness.... Chapter L. On the Origin of the Universe.
"Ah! What has the sage to say on that point?" asked Sophia.
"Far too much to read now. This seems to be a favorite theme with the
sages; there are a great many pages. Here is the opening section:
'According to the sacred writings of the Pundits of India, a certain
immense spider was the origin, the first cause of all things. This
spider drawing the matter from its own bowels, wove the web of this
universe, and disposed it with wonderful art. She, in the meantime
sitting in the centre of her work, feels and directs the motions of
every part, till at length, when she has pleased herself sufficiently in
ordering and contemplating this web, she draws again into herself all
the threads she had spun out and, having absorbed them, the universal
nature of all creatures vanishes into nothing.'"
"Dear me," said Sophia, "how very like that is to the 'nebular theory'
that we heard the Professor discussing one evening with Governor Wille
on the great porch. But pray, whence came the spider? Who made her? I
wonder the sages didn't think of that question?"
Faith resumed the reading: "The natives of Guinea believe that the first
man was created by a large black spider which is so common in their
country, and is called in their jargon 'Ananse.'"
"Now, that is too bad!" said Sophia once more interrupting the reading.
"I could believe that the Pixies came that way, but to say that men were
so made! But that is the way with the sages of unbelief. They had rather
think the universe to have been spun out of the spinnerets of a big
black spider, than admit that in the beginning the Holy God made all
things."
Faith made no answer, but stood silently turning over the leaves. The
silence was broken by a sound that startled the Nurses, and struck
terror into their hearts. We must go back to the Brownie's island camp
in order to explain this sudden interruption.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AW: Appendix, Note A.]
CHAPTER XXV.
BLYTHE'S FLUTE.
Despite their position the wrecked Brownies were in good spirits. The
restoration of Pipe had taken a load off their hearts. The reaction was
so great, after their grief and the certainty of his loss, that low
spirits vanished from the camp. The boatswain's resurrection seemed an
omen of good fortune. The cheer that filled all hearts bubbled over in
song, laughter, merry tale and joke. But as the Brownies feared to
attract the attention of the Doubt's crew who were yet on the island,
they kept the sound of their merrymaking within bounds of their picket
lines.
Blythe added much to the enjoyment of the occasion. By some rare chance,
as he was setting out for the fleet in the morning, he had flung over
his shoulder his flute box, which he often carried in a little case
something after the manner of a field glass. It had clung to him when
the Ken's boat went down, and there was the flute, ready to swell the
joy of the bivouac. Blythe was quite in the spirit to play, and all
hearts were in tune to listen.
Again and again the notes of the sweet instrument murmured among the
overhanging branches. Camp tunes, battle tunes, love tunes, home
tunes--the hearts of the Brownies were stirred by turns with tender,
pathetic, sad or fond emotions as the well known strains fell upon their
ears.
"Come, lads," cried Pipe, "cannot we have a song?"
"Aye, aye, a song, a song!" was called from all sides.
"What shall it be?" asked Blythe. "I will gladly accompany Captain
Clearview here, who is an excellent singer. Captain, what say you? Shall
we have 'Woodmen, Boatmen, Sailors and Horsemen?' The lads like that and
can join in the chorus."
"Play away!" said Clearview, and at the proper note he struck in and
sang the following song, in the refrain of which all the company joined:
THE BROWNIES' NATIONAL SONG.
O MERRY AND FREE!
OR
WOODMEN, BOATMEN, SAILORS AND HORSEMEN.
I.
O merry and free,
'Neath the wildwood tree,
Are the Woodmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
In the breeze there is balm,
In the sky there is calm,
Each sound in the wood is the voice of a psalm;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
II.
O merry and free,
On the lake and lea,
Are the Boatmen of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
For the trout's rushing leap,
And the water-fowl's sweep,
With the paddle's soft dip sweet harmony keep;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
III.
O merry and free,
On the wrinkled sea,
Are the sailors of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
For the creaking of sail,
And the sough of the gale,
And splashing of waves, are the songs that ne'er fail;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
IV.
O merry and free,
Over hill and lea,
Are the troopers of Brownieland, bonnie and dee;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
It is pleasure indeed,
To be one with the steed
In his strength, and thrill with the rhythm of speed;
Too--ra--lah, too--ra--loo, too--ra--lay!
"Hist--st!"
The sharp prolonged sibilant that broke in upon their applause and
caused instant silence, was uttered by Sergeant True. He advanced into
the circle with his hand raised warningly.
"Hist! Quiet all!--except you, Blythe. Keep on with your music. Play
some of your softest airs, and play until I bid you stop. As for the
rest of you, I charge you, for your lives, not to speak or move until
you hear from me. No matter what you see--perfect silence, remember!"
He stepped back again into the bushes and was hidden from sight. What
could the strange interruption mean? The Brownies were all alive with
keen curiosity. Was the Sergeant in a merry humor, and planning some
trick upon the party? They suspected that. But it was not much after
True's habit to do such a thing. Besides, his manner betokened unusual
earnestness. Therefore, all sat still, looking into the bushes whither
True had disappeared. The Adjutant promptly fell into his friend's plan.
He obeyed orders, played away and waited.
"Hist! look up! But don't stop the music, and don't stir!" said True in
a low voice.
All eyes turned upward. A faint rustling among the branches directed the
party's gaze to the point of interest. A quaint old hag of a Pixie was
slowly crawling along the twig above Blythe's head. It was our
acquaintance, Dame Tigrina!
[Illustration: THE BOY'S ILLUSTRATION.
FIG. 108.--Blythe's Flute Charms Tigrina.]
Blythe's heart fluttered a little, it must be confessed. It really
seemed that the grim creature was preparing to pounce upon him. See! she
is just above the musician's head. She has fastened a cable to the
branch and is slowly lowering herself toward the ground. There was a
slight quaver in the notes of the flute that could not be credited
wholly to the performer's intention. Yet, he behaved with wonderful
coolness and courage. The music went on; not a false note, not a pause,
while the Pixie was gradually lowering herself toward the ground.
When about one-third of the descent had been made, Tigrina paused and
sat quite still. She was listening to the music, not foraging for
victims! Blythe's flute had charmed her forth from her cell. There she
hung in mid air indulging her fondness for sweet sounds. Who would have
thought it of the old hag? However, it would perhaps be well to mention
that it has frequently been reported that some Pixies are strangely
sensitive to music.[AX]
True's conduct was now explained. He had caught a glimpse of the Pixinee
when she first left her hall, but had not been able to mark the spot
from which she came. When the singing stopped and the applause began,
Tigrina retreated so rapidly and stealthily that the Sergeant again
failed to note the door of her cave, but saw the general direction and
neighborhood thereof. He thought that if Blythe would repeat the music
it would charm the old creature forth once more, and so it proved.
From his blind in the bushes he saw the cave door slowly open, and
marked the spot. He saw the Pixinee peep here and there, then, satisfied
that the coast was clear, return to her place above the musician, where
she hung and listened as before.
True had gained his point. He did not indeed understand how near he was
to his heart's great desire. But he had thought it probable that Faith
and Sophia might be hidden on the island in some of the Pixie dens, and
at once resolved to follow up this fortunate incident in hope that it
might give a clew to a more important discovery. He quietly left his
hiding place, planted himself before the spot whence Tigrina had come,
and drew his battle axe.
"Hist!" The sound directed the Brownies' attention toward him. "Close in
around me when I call. Don't move before that. Now, Blythe,--stop!"
The music ceased. No one stirred for a moment or two; then Tigrina, as
though persuaded that the performance had ended, scampered up the cable
from which she hung, and hurried off toward her cave.
"Close up!" ordered True.
The company rushed forward and surrounded the Sergeant, who now stood
with axe poised, face to face with the Pixinee. Tigrina was in the act
of springing upon True. Her claws were outstretched, her eyes were
ablaze with excitement, and in the greatness of her wrath her fangs
clattered against each other.
As the Brownies closed the circle about her, she started, and cast a
quick, terrified glance around her. Then her whole visage changed; the
arms fell to her side; her face dropped upon her chest; her limbs
relaxed; the eyes became glassy and fixed; she suddenly sank to the
ground and lay rigid and motionless.
True lowered his axe. An exclamation of surprise broke from the group.
"Is she dead?" asked several at once.
Pipe stepped to Tigrina's side and cautiously turned her body with his
foot.
"'Pon my honor," he said, "I do believe the old witch has burst a
blood-vessel, or had an attack of apoplexy. She's dead as a mackerel."
"It does seem so, indeed," remarked True, who had also examined the
body. "There is every sign of death, beyond doubt. For my part I don't
wonder, for I never saw such a swift and terrible change in any living
creature as came over this one."
"Come," said Clearview, "let me try an experiment. I know something
more of the tricks of these Pixies than you. They can beat the 'possums
at feigning death. Now, I venture that Madame here is as alive and awake
as any of you. Stand back a little. We shall see. Bring me a cord."
A stout cord was brought by one of the sailors. Clearview approached
cautiously, and looped the rope around all the Pixinee's limbs except
one arm. During all this there was no sign of life.
"Hand me your axe, Sergeant." The weapon was passed to him. "Observe
now," continued Clearview, "that I intend to strike just where that claw
lies. If the creature is dead it will not hurt her to have it chopped
off."
[Illustration: FIG. 109.--Attitudes of Spiders when Feigning Death.]
He lifted the axe deliberately, and struck directly at the unbound arm
which was stretched out motionless upon the grass. The blade sank into
the ground! The claw had been removed by a quick motion as the axe fell.
"Phew----ew!" said Pipe, drawing a long breath. "Talk about wonders of
the stage! That acting beats Charlotte Cushman all hollow."[AY]
A burst of merriment broke from the circle of astonished and amused
Brownies, in the midst of which Tigrina slowly raised her body from the
ground, and sat up looking around upon her captors, quite crestfallen.
"Well," she said at last, "now you have me, what'll you do with me?"
The Brownie officers held a brief, whispered consultation. Then the
boatswain addressed Tigrina.
"Old woman, we shall exchange few words with you. You know well that
your life in ordinary circumstances wouldn't be worth a salt herring.
But you've just one chance for it. I have lost a daughter. She was
carried off with one of her companions by some of your people. We have
found no trace of the maidens yet. If you can tell anything that shall
lead to their discovery, your life shall be spared. If not, you die
instantly."
Tigrina sat with eyes fixed upon the ground. Her face had a stubborn
cast that showed indifference to life, or determination to yield nothing
for the sake of saving it. She remained silent.
"Well," continued the boatswain, "have you nothing to say? Do you know
anything? Speak out. You shall find us true to our word, as Brownies
always are."
"For Heaven's sake," cried Blythe impatiently, "if you can put us on the
track of our lost friends, do so! You shall not only have your life, but
whatever besides--"
"Hah! What interest have you in the silly things?" asked Tigrina looking
up quickly. Her whole manner had changed at the first sound of his
voice. Her eyes dropped slowly from the Adjutant's face to the flute
which he still held in his hands, and there remained fixed.
"I have a deep and tender interest in one of them," exclaimed Blythe.
"And I pledge you my word, with the boatswain, to stand between you and
death if you will tell us where we can find Faith and Sophia."
There was a moment's silence, so profound that one might almost have
heard his neighbor's heart beat as the Brownies awaited the Pixinee's
answer. The fate of their beloved Nurses seemed to hang upon her lips.
Tigrina at last broke the silence:
"You will give me my life?" she said.
"Yes!" cried a score of eager voices.
"And set me free?"
"Aye, aye!" was the hearty chorus.
"And give me--that?" continued Tigrina, pointing her hairy claw toward
the flute in Blythe's hand.
"It is yours!" cried the Adjutant, flinging the instrument into the
Pixinee's lap.
Tigrina clutched it eagerly, turned it over and over, as a child would a
new toy, looked into it, touched the keys, put it to her ears and
listened, then laid it down upon her lap and gazed at it with childish
fondness. All this time the Brownies looked on impatiently, but not
inclined to interfere.
"Hah!" exclaimed Tigrina, "and will it sing for me, too? Pretty bird!
Sing, sing!" she said as she fondled the flute tenderly.
"Come, come, old lady," cried Pipe at last. "Be done with this nonsense!
Remember that neither life, freedom, nor the flute are yours until you
keep your part of the bargain. So hurry up."
Tigrina looked up again with the old fierce, sullen face. "Ugh! To be
sure. Well, gentlemen, I have sworn not to tell any one where the
fairies are. But that big officer yonder--," she cast a savage glance at
True, "knows where I live, I reckon. There's nothing to hinder you from
following up what you have already found out yourselves, is there?"
A cry of joy arose from the party at these words. The hint was taken at
once. What news! Faith and Sophia were found at last! Hurrah!
Pipe turned eagerly upon Sergeant True.
"The door, the door!" he cried, "where is the door of the old hag's
cave?"
Blythe sprang forward, grasped Tigrina by the arm until she fairly
winced under the pressure, and exclaimed, "are they alive?--are they
safe? Speak!"
"Both!" was the answer.
The cool, clear voice of Captain Clearview broke in upon the excitement.
"Come, my friends, this is not wise. You are giving way to hopes that
may be dashed from you. What have you to rely upon for them all? The
word of an old Pixinee condemned to death. I think she has spoken truly.
But let us make sure before we show our joy. First of all, take that
flute from her and bind her arms securely. We will take her with us into
the cave. If she has not deceived us we will be true to her. If this is
all mockery and deceit--" There was no need to finish the sentence.
By this time Pipe, True and Blythe had the mossy door of the cave pushed
open. They entered the silk lined vestibule, and saw the tunnel sloping
away into the hill until lost in the darkness.
"A ladder and lanterns!" cried Pipe. "Haste--away!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!" answered a half dozen hearty voices. The sailors flew
to the boat, and soon returned with a rope ladder and several fox-fire
lanterns.
"Are we all ready?" asked True.
"Ready!"
"Come on then! and God speed the search!"
He stepped into the mouth of the cave bearing aloft one of the lights.
Pipe and Blythe followed. Then came Clearview and Help leading Dame
Tigrina. Several sailors brought up the rear of the party. The remainder
of the crew kept guard at the entrance.
"Hark!" The word fell from the lips of both the imprisoned Nurses at
once. There was a sound as of the wind blowing through the long tunneled
hall that led into their room. It came nearer. It grew louder. The
maidens stood still straining every nerve to resolve the meaning of the
strange noises. There could be no doubt, at last, that it was the sound
of approaching footsteps, mingled with voices.
"O Sophie, it is Spite the Spy!"
"O Faith, the Pixie chiefs have returned!"
With a cry of anguish they threw themselves into each other's arms. In
this movement the stand bearing the "Book of the Wisdom of the Pixies"
was overturned, and with a great racket fell to the floor. The large
volume opened its folios as it fell, and lay spread out upon its face
under the stand.
The scream of the Nurses and the crash of the stand were answered by a
cry from without. The curtain door of the chamber was rent aside, and
Sergeant True bearing aloft his fox-fire torch entered. Ere he could
utter a word the boatswain darted past him. Sophia had sprung forward at
the first vision of her lover, and found herself clasped in her father's
arms! Faith had fallen upon her knees. The drapery of her gown streamed
backward partially covering the gilt and silken bindings of the Pixies'
Book of Unbelief. The hands of the kneeling Nurse, just as they were
outstretched toward Heaven, were clasped in the fervent grasp of
Adjutant Blythe, who in a moment was kneeling at Faith's side.
It was a striking and tender scene--the kneeling figures of Blythe and
Faith; Sophia fast locked in her father's embrace; True standing nearby,
the central figure of the group, holding his torch aloft, gazing upon
his betrothed with joy and fondness shining through the tears upon his
cheek. Crowded in the door and just within the room, were the other
members of the searching party, in the midst of whom stood Tigrina
casting alternate looks of anger upon the Brownies, and desire upon the
flute which had fallen from Blythe's hand and rolled quite near her.
Why should we dwell upon what followed? The mutual greetings, the quick
exchange of experiences, the outbreak of emotion, joy, gratitude,
love--these are better left to the reader's imagination. One may be
certain, however, that the party did not long stay inside the Pixie's
cave. To be sure, it was a snug place, and would have been quite safe,
and no doubt more comfortable to the Nurses than the rude accommodations
of the Brownie bivouac outside. But the very sight of Aranea Hall, even
with all its beautiful furnishings, was hateful to them. They insisted
upon going away from the place with all haste.
"It is a prison, a miserable prison, however much it may be decked like
a palace," exclaimed Faith. "Let us out of it, immediately!"
"Aye," said Sophia, "with all its silken tapestry, carpets, and couches
it is a den of Pixies, a loathsome, dismal dungeon. Take us out of it,
take us quickly!"
The happy company returned along the tunnel, and mounted to upper air. A
second greeting awaited the rescued fairies from the party that guarded
the entrance. The boisterous joy of the Brownie sailors could hardly be
restrained. But an urgent warning of the danger that might be called
down upon their newly found loved ones, by discovering their presence to
the Doubters on the island, kept the outbreaking happiness within
bounds.
The Brownies were true to Tigrina and left her safe within the cave in
possession of the coveted flute. But they fastened the cavern door and
mounted a guard over it. Then a shelter was provided for the Nurses. As
willing hands and happy hearts make light work, the night was not far
gone ere a tent of leaves was built. Tired out with excitement Faith and
Sophia were quite ready to retire when all was prepared for them. How
happy, happy, happy they were as they lay down to sleep in each other's
arms! Their joy rippled over their lips in whispered congratulations and
thanks, and bubbled forth in grateful tears. Then soft deep sleep, the
sleep of the good and happy stole gently upon them.
It was long before the Brownie sailors settled to sleep. Weary as they
were, the wish to hear the story of the capture and imprisonment of the
Nurses, was stronger than the need of rest. Thus, Pipe, True, and
Blythe, to whom the particulars had been told, had to tell them over and
over again. At length all were satisfied; the sentinels were stationed,
the reliefs appointed, and sleep fell upon the little camp.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AX: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote AY: Appendix, Note B.]
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE HAUNTED GROUND.
Our story must now go back to Big Cave Camp on the Orchard shore of Lake
Katrine. Lieutenant MacWhirlie had made a vigorous attack upon the Pixie
camp, using his portable davids with good success. He completely
demolished a bowl-shaped battery of Linyphia,[AZ] placed among the
morning glories, from which a gang of Pixies had kept up a continuous
and annoying volley of spears and arrows. But not being supported by the
infantry, he fell back to the outer line of intrenchments. Here he was
joined by Captain Bruce with his troops.
In the meantime, Commodore Rodney and his fleet had retired before the
Stygians, and lay under the protection of the great guns mounted at the
mouth of the inlet. The Pixie squadron took position before the inlet,
thus shutting the Natties in, and Admiral Quench immediately sent three
ships to relieve Big Cave Camp.
Thus matters stood on the eventful evening that brought such happy issue
to the Brownies on Ellen's Isle. Exciting incidents also had happened at
Camp Lawe, as the Brownie encampment before Big Cave had been called, in
honor of the Ensign's gallant exploit. Shortly after nine o'clock, the
hour for changing the sentinels, Bruce was informed by Vigilant, the
Sergeant of the guard, that one of the men was missing from his post.
"What," cried Bruce in angry tones, "I didn't think we had a traitor or
a coward in our camp. Bring the wretch here, as soon as he is found. He
must suffer the penalty." The Captain thus spoke, because it is an
almost unheard of thing that a Brownie soldier should desert his post,
and the punishment for such offence is instant death.
[Illustration: FIG. 110.--"The Bowl-Shaped Battery of Linyphia."]
"But, Captain," answered Vigilant, "we have searched for the guard, and
can't find him. No one has seen him off his rounds. Indeed, he was seen
at his post by the nearest sentinel but a few moments before the relief
came up. Here is his spear, which was picked up on the ground.
Otherwise there is not a trace of him anywhere."
"Remarkable indeed! Who was the sentinel?"
"Private Standwhile."
"Ah, a good man and true! I know him well. Lead the way to his picket
post."
The two were soon upon the ground. The spot where the missing soldier's
lance was found was carefully examined, but there was no trace of
conflict or other unusual occurrence. The approaches to the picket line
from the enemy's direction were closely scanned. Nothing suspicious was
seen. The ground for some distance between the Pixie and Brownie camps
was at this point flat and smooth. Unable to solve the mystery, the
Captain ordered another sentinel to be placed.
"See that he is a good man, one of the brightest and most careful in the
ranks," said Bruce. Accordingly Sergeant Vigilant assigned Private
Sharpsight to the vacant post.
"And, be sure, Sergeant," said the Captain, as he turned away, "that you
keep a bright lookout upon your sentinels during the watch, especially
on this one."
Scarcely an hour had passed ere Captain Bruce heard the sharp challenge
of the sentinel before his tent door: "Who goes there?"
"Sergeant Vigilant of the picket guard."
Bruce rose from his couch without waiting to be called, and left the
tent. "Well, what is it? Speak!"
"The second sentinel is gone!"
"Sharpsight gone?"
"Aye; not a sign or sound of him anywhere. I visited the picket once
within an hour after he was stationed. All was then well. But I felt
restless and nervous about the disappearance of Standwhile, and a few
moments ago returned. Sharpsight had vanished as mysteriously as the
other!"
"Call out the guard!" cried Bruce, snatching his broadsword and striding
off toward the picket line. "Keep this matter as quiet as possible. It
won't do to alarm the camp."
[Illustration: FIG. 111.--"The Horizontal Snare of a Young Uloborus
Among the Laurels."]
Every bush, and clump of grass, weed, stone, stock, or other place that
could possibly give shelter to friend or foe, Brownie or Pixie, within a
wide circuit of the fatal picket post, was thoroughly explored. Nothing
more dangerous was found than the horizontal snare of a young Uloborus
among the laurels and a few young Furrow spiders. The latter lay within
their silken tubes which were snugly embosomed within a dainty tuft of
dry moss, or tucked within the folds of rolled leaves or curled birch
bark, with a trap line strung from the openings to nearby round webs.
The Brownies were no wiser than before. The mystery was unsolved.
"Shall we place another picket?" asked Sergeant Vigilant.
"It must be done," answered the Captain. "But call for volunteers."
"You see how it is, my good fellows," said the Sergeant turning to the
guard. "Two of our men are gone. Where, how, nobody knows. There is foul
play somewhere, and the sort that leaves no trail. The next picket may
uncover the villainy, or he may go the way of the others. I shall not
draft any one to this post unless necessary. Who will volunteer? Step
out!"
[Illustration: FIG. 112.--"Snugly Embosomed Within a Dainty Tuft of Dry
Moss."]
There was a moment's pause. The sentinels cast glances from one to
another, as though each waited for his comrade to volunteer. Then, as if
by one impulse, every one stepped to the front.
"Bravo!" cried the Captain. "It is just what I expected of you. But I
only meant to test your courage. I shall take this post myself, and do
duty for the rest of this watch as one of the picket guards. Sergeant,
dismiss the men and resume your rounds. Call here in half an hour. I
will solve this mystery, if it can be done. Away!"
Vigilant and his guard began to remonstrate with their leader against
this exposure of his life. But when he bade them away in such peremptory
tones, they knew that his mind was made up, and there was nothing for
them but to obey. Slowly and unwillingly they withdrew; not to sleep
however, but to talk in subdued voices over the strange events of the
night, and await the issue of their Captain's watch.
The half hour had well nigh passed. A cry of alarm startled the guard.
It ran through the camp. Officers and men sprang from their bivouac
fires and rude couches, and seized their arms.
"Fall in! Fall in!" shouted the officers. The bugle sounded the call.
"Is it a night attack?"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Where have the Pixies assaulted the line?"
"There! Don't you see the guard rallying in yonder open space by the
ridge. The enemy is coming straight over the plain."
"Pshaw! There's not a Pixie in sight. It's a false alarm raised by some
stupid picket."
Thus backward and forward ran question and answer, as the Brownie
soldiers swiftly fell into line of battle.
"Where is the Captain?" asked Lieutenant MacWhirlie, saluting
Acting-Adjutant Bright.
"At the picket line I believe, Sir," answered Bright, "looking after the
cause of the alarm. Ah! here comes the Sergeant of the guard. Why--in
Heaven's name, Vigilant, what's the matter?"
"Captain--Bruce--is--gone!" said the Sergeant, jerking out the words
between sobs.
"Gone--what do you mean?" cried both officers at once. The story was
soon told. The Captain had disappeared as mysteriously as the two
privates. Lieutenant MacWhirlie after a brief consultation with the
officers issued the following order: "Let the soldiers be informed of
everything. Appeal to their honor, loyalty, courage and good sense.
Dismiss them to their quarters, and bid them sleep upon their arms.
Come, Sergeant, lead the way to the picket line."
[Illustration: FIGS. 113, 114, 115 and 116.--"Tucked Within the Folds of
Rolled Leaves or Curled Birch Bark." (Furrow Spiders.)]
Accompanied by Vigilant, the Lieutenant strode away, having sent back
his pony to the corral. The men of the guard were still scattered
throughout the neighborhood looking for traces of their lost commander
and comrades. They were recalled by a bugle. There was nothing to
report.
Meanwhile MacWhirlie carefully examined the premises. The open space in
front of the mysterious picket post ended in a low ridge which ran for
some distance in either direction, and was covered with grass intermixed
with tufts of moss and ferns. Beyond that and toward Camp Lawe the ridge
was covered with a growth of young bushes. It was close up to this ridge
that the lost pickets had been stationed.
"Did you observe the position of the men?" asked MacWhirlie.
"Not of the first one," answered the Sergeant. "But the second was
stationed here. So also was the Captain. They both stood with their
faces toward the plain--outward. I watched them both from a distance,
after I had left them. The Captain paced up and down, just there along
the ridge, keeping his eyes toward the enemy's camp. He made a half face
outward, so to speak, as he walked."
"Outward? You are quite sure of that?"
"Quite."
"Very well. I shall take this post now. You will form the entire guard
in a circle enclosing this spot."
"How far away, Sir?"
"Just far enough to have me well in sight. Let the men pace their beats
as ordinary sentinels, keeping each other in view, face to face and
right about. At the slightest call or alarm of any kind let them close
in instantly, all of them at a sharp run."
"Is that all, Sir?"
"Yes; except that I want you to report to me as soon as the men are
placed. You may go, now."
"Fall in. Attention. Right face. Forward--March!"
The Sergeant marched away at the head of his squad, and was soon
stationing the sentries according to orders. As the guard moved off
MacWhirlie overheard muttered words of protest dropping from the
soldiers' lips. "Can't afford to lose both our leaders!" "It's a useless
sacrifice!--Haunted ground!"
"Humph!" exclaimed the Lieutenant to himself. "Haunted ground, indeed!
The cause of this deviltry is somewhere in this neighborhood, I'll be
bound. And there's nothing more ghostly than Pixies at the bottom of
it. There's no keeping track of their tricks. We are forever coming
across some new tribe, with new habits. Their cunning and skill are
beyond belief." He turned his back toward the plain and his face toward
the ridge, and in that position kept guard until Sergeant Vigilant
returned.
"Now," said MacWhirlie, "I want you to take your stand a few rods beyond
me in the direction of the Big Cave. Keep your eye on me closely. If
anything unusual occurs give the alarm, no matter what it may be. Don't
fear to raise a false alarm."
The long watch began. Keeping his face steadily inward, the Lieutenant
stood, or walked slowly back and forth, covering his eyes and scanning
closely every object before him. Not a motion of leaf, twig, blade of
grass, sprig or frond escaped his keen vision. But there was no sign of
anything threatening or unusual. Midnight passed. One--two--three
o'clock! The first glint of the coming dawn began to show in the
horizon. The Brownie camp was as silent as a graveyard, for the men had
grown tired of their long suspense, and dropped asleep. MacWhirlie and
his guard were also well nigh wearied out. The day was like to break
leaving the mystery unsolved.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AZ: Appendix, Note A.]
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE DISENCHANTMENT.
Lieutenant MacWhirlie had now almost come to doubt so much of his theory
as located the unknown enemy within the picket line. But he was a
persistent person, and disliked to give up his theory until he had
something better to lay hold of. Moreover, as he still believed the
Pixies to be the cause of the late misfortunes, and as he knew they were
wont to be quite active about the peep of day, he resolved to bide by
his voluntary watch a little longer. He beckoned Sergeant Vigilant to
his side and the two sat down to rest among the delicate ferns that
covered the ridge. They went over again the events of the night, putting
this and that together, in order to frame some intelligent theory for
their guidance. MacWhirlie, however, could find nothing to shake his
first conclusion.
"The danger must have come upon them unawares," said he; "it was clearly
in every case a complete surprise. If an enemy had approached from the
front, he would have been spied in time for an alarm. A surprise so
thorough could only have come from the direction of our own camp, as
that was the only quarter not carefully watched."
The Sergeant's reply was arrested by a curious phenomenon. The ground
beneath them seemed to be trembling; it raised slowly, swayed back and
forth, and then sank down. The Brownies jumped to their feet and
MacWhirlie exclaimed:
"What is that? Did you notice the shaking of the earth? or was it only
the grass rocking in the wind?"
"It was--it seemed to be an earthquake," answered Vigilant. "There! I
feel the ground again trembling beneath us."
[Illustration: FIG. 117.--A Trap-door Opened.]
The earth had, indeed, begun to lift up like a wave; higher and higher
it rose, until the officers, finding that they were losing their
perpendicular, flung themselves backward, in true Brownie fashion, into
a bush on the summit of the ridge.
"See!" cried MacWhirlie, clasping the Sergeant by the arm, "there is the
enchantress of your haunted ground!"
[Illustration: FIG. 118.--A Trap-door Closed.]
A trap-door had opened in the ground, and out of the crevice a huge
chocolate-brown Pixie was stealthily peeping! The door was semi-circular
in form, its edge beautifully beveled and covered with fine white silk,
and fitted into the ground as smoothly as a cork into a flask. The top
was covered with grass and ferns of the same kind as those on the ridge,
so that the keenest eye could not detect the difference. A hinge of
strong silk cloth held the trap-door to the upper side of the ridge.
All this the Brownies took in at a glance.[BA]
They crouched motionless in the bush, concealed by the leaves, but
having a full view of the monster who was slowly emerging from the
tubular burrow under the trap. The creature was the largest of the Pixie
race that either of the officers had seen. She was several times the
size of Spite or Hide, and compared to the Brownies was as an elephant
to a child. She was covered with a fur robe of a uniform brownish-red
color, fringed with black. Her fangs were huge tusks, her feet immense
brushes armed with sharp claws. Woe to the enemy that fell within her
power! The Brownie officers had as brave hearts as ever beat under
uniform, but the wonder upon their faces was somewhat touched with
terror as they looked from this monster into each other's eyes. There
could be no mistake about it. This was the great giantess Cteniza, the
Queen of the Pixies!
[Illustration: FIG. 119.--Peep-oh! Pixie!]
The giantess turned, clambered up the ridge and made straight for the
bushlet wherein the Brownies were hid. They grasped their swords and
silently waited. Cteniza reached the bush. She stretched up an arm
to--seize the Brownies? No! she fastened a strong cord to a twig and
pulled it taut. The trap-door of her cave slowly raised until it stood
ajar. Then another line was made fast to the bush and carried over to
the top of the door. The trap swung in this wise and thus allowed the
Pixie queen to enter her den when she wished to return. This done, she
went down the ridge, gazed around her, and began spreading a thick
snare over the ground round about the trap-door.[BB] She had not seen
the Brownie officers at all.
"We are safe this time," whispered MacWhirlie to Vigilant, "but what
shall we do? It would be folly for two of us, or even the whole guard,
to attack that creature without some great advantage on our part."
"We must wait and watch," was the answer. "Our action must depend upon
the Pixie queen's."
"Aye, Aye," responded the Lieutenant, "but there is one thing I have
settled. These cords shall be cut and the monster shut out from her den.
If there is any hope at all for the recovery of our Captain and comrades
it lies in that. Come what may the giantess shall never get back into
her cave; at least until we have had a a chance to explore it."
Queen Cteniza had by this time finished her snare of strong cords, and a
smooth silken sheet stretched irregularly upon the grass. She gazed
contentedly upon her work, cast a glance upon her trap-door swinging
snugly by its lines, and set off in the direction of the Pixie camp. She
stopped suddenly. She had caught sight of one of the sentinels in the
outer circle of guards, and at the same moment the sentinel saw her. He
lifted his bugle and sounded the alarm.
"Ter-ah! Tra-la, la-lah!"
The answer came like an echo from a score of bugles, and the air was
full of the notes. Cteniza turned and ran toward her cave. MacWhirlie
heaved up his axe and struck a double-handed blow. One of the lines
which held up the trap was severed. Again he struck. The second line
parted and down fell the trap with a heavy thud, just as the giantess
reached it. She was shut out from her cave! A glance showed her the
cause of her misfortune, and then her huge form shook with rage. She
leaped upon the ridge. But by this time the Brownie officers were well
away in hot flight, and the circle of guards was rapidly closing around
them. A stir throughout the Brownie camp beyond showed that a general
alarm had been sounded, and the whole army was falling into line. But
could the devoted officers and their little band escape destruction?
"Stand!" cried MacWhirlie. He himself stopped short in his flight and
faced toward Cteniza, who was pressing forward with uplifted claws and
clattering tusks. Vigilant stopped and stood beside his Lieutenant. The
sentinels gathered around them. Scarce a dozen of them! It seemed as if
the Pixie might crush them all at a blow.
"Attention!" called the Lieutenant. "There is but one chance left us. We
must skirmish with this monster as best we can until the troops come up.
Mark those bushes to the right and left. Ready! Vault!"
MacWhirlie gave these commands in sharp, rapid tones that seemed to
impart his own spirit to the sentinels. Cteniza had approached within
half a bow shot of the Lieutenant as the final order was given. At the
word "vault," every Brownie disappeared into the foliage of the bushes
to right and left, and there perched on the outer leaves with bows and
spears in hand.
The giantess paused and stood with raised arms, rampant and threatening.
She panted with anger and exertion. She looked to this side and that,
before her, behind her, but saw no sign of her enemies. From the top of
a tall clump of grass above her MacWhirlie's voice called: "Fire!"
Cteniza started; a lance had struck her face; an arrow had cut through
her shaggy robe and broke flesh upon the abdomen; a dozen other weapons
bounded back harmlessly from the chest, or frayed the skin upon arms and
legs. She leaped upon the clump of grass whence MacWhirlie had issued
the order. The stalks bent down so quickly under the great weight, that
the bulky creature sprawled upon the ground. The Lieutenant was shaken
from his perch, and rolled in the dust beside the Pixie, but at once
regained his feet.
[Illustration: FIG. 120.--A Rampant Tarantula.]
"Rally!" he cried, and the soldiers ran to his side.
Cteniza now stood looking at her tiny foes. It seemed like a battle
between a lion and a litter of mice, so vast was the difference in size
between the combatants. In this moment of peril to the devoted band
there was a new arrival upon the scene. Ensign Lawe having left camp for
Hillside, the command of the cavalry fell to Sergeant Goodnews when
MacWhirlie came into chief command after Bruce's disappearance. Goodnews
was one of the most famous among the Brownie officers. There was not a
fairy in the whole nation so comely in appearance, so valiant in fight,
so efficient in all military action, so wise in council, so cheerful,
amiable and kind in disposition. Never were beauty and sweetness so well
combined with valor and might.
His charger was a goodly sized wasp, whose name was Formosa, commonly
shortened into the nickname of "Moz." The creature was thoroughly
trained, apt in every duty of war, and devoted to her master. In motion
she was the swiftest of all the troop. She had a complete armor, and
carried a spear charged with a deadly sting, which she well knew how to
use against her master's foes. This was the new arrival. Hurrying up
behind Goodnews came a squad of mounted Brownies, and beyond these again
the remainder of the army. But they would be too late! What could one
soldier do, however brave and well mounted, to save the Brownie
sentinels from the monster who was in the act of throwing herself upon
them? We shall see.
As the giantess sprang upon the little group of guards, a volley of
arrows and spears flew into her face. But these wrought small harm, and
ere the sentinels could leap aside three of them had been torn to
pieces. Vigilant was wounded and borne to the earth; MacWhirlie was
disarmed and dashed to one side, bruised and sorely bedraggled. It was
at this moment, when the giantess was turning fiercely upon her
prostrate foes, that Goodnews flew to the rescue upon his gallant
Formosa. His sabre cut clean and strong across Cteniza's eyes, as he
passed at full speed. He wheeled and rode back again. What is he doing?
He is hovering above the Pixie queen, skillfully avoiding all her mad
efforts to grapple with him. Is he only seeking to turn her attention
from his friends? At least, he is making no attempt to use his sabre.
Ah! his tactics are plain enough now. Formosa circles around the dazed
giantess a moment, and then darts upon her back. The wasp's bright lance
flashes in the light, then horseman and steed are away again like the
wind. And what is this? Cteniza reels upon her feet. She has fallen over
upon her face. She is motionless. The fatal armor of Sergeant Goodnews'
good nag has done the work. The poison within the sting ran instantly
throughout the bulky frame of the Pixie queen, and there she lay prone
and powerless.[BC]
"Hurrah!" shouted MacWhirlie leaping up in spite of his bruises, and
gaily swinging his broadsword. "We are saved! The Queen is dead! We can
save the Captain now! if----"
Ah! that if!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BA: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote BB: Appendix, Note B.]
[Footnote BC: Appendix, Note C.]
CHAPTER XXVIII.
OUT OF THE PIT.
The dayspring had begun to streak the east when MacWhirlie, with a
chosen band of Brownies, stood again before the closed trap-door of
Cteniza's cave. The silken cords which had held the door open were still
clinging to it. The ends which the Lieutenant had cut away were now
gathered up, and the Brownies vainly sought to pull the door open by
main strength.
"Away!" bade MacWhirlie: "call another company to our aid. And send a
windlass."
Soon a second company arrived, bringing ropes and a windlass. The latter
was a rough machine, a straight twig resting within two upright forked
twigs, and having spokes thrust into and around its projecting ends. The
windlass was planted on the ridge, a cord wound around the twig, and
fastened at the free end to moss growing upon the trap-door. A bevy of
Brownies seized the spokes and began pushing and pulling with might and
main. Some took the ends of the spokes and threw themselves downward,
carrying the windlass around by their momentum; others braced their
backs against one another, and with feet upon the spokes pushed right
merrily. Brownies are apt to make a frolic of their work, and even on an
occasion so serious, their capers could not be quite suppressed. The two
ropes were also fastened to the trap-door and manned by a troop of
soldiers. A cheery call went up from the Lieutenant!
"Hi--ee--oh! Pull away!"
The Brownies at the ropes responded in a sort of chant: "He--oh! a long
pull; he--oh! a strong pull; he--oh! a pull all together, oh!" At each
cadence the busy workers put forth all their strength. The trap began to
move. Higher--higher! It was soon fairly above the ground. Workers were
stationed below to thrust props into the opening as the door rose. A
goodly distance was cleared at last. New props were added. The trap
stood ajar, and the mouth of the burrow was exposed to view.
[Illustration: FIG. 121.--The Mouth of Cteniza's Den Opened.]
"Now, men," said MacWhirlie, "this is my adventure. I shall lead the way
into the pit. Sergeant Rise and Corporals Hope and Shine shall go with
me. Let the rest be ready for any order or emergency. Bring ladders and
lanterns."
Both were ready; the rope ladders were hung upon the edge of the burrow
one on each side. MacWhirlie stepped upon one, battle-axe in hand, and
was followed by Corporal Shine. Sergeant Rise led the way upon the
other, followed by Corporal Hope.
"Ready?" asked the Lieutenant.
"Ready!"
"Come on, then, and mind the signals."
Hope and Shine had ropes fastened to their bodies, by which signals
could be sent aloft. They also had their bugles hung loosely, with which
to sound the alarm, and give necessary orders. Down, down into the cave
the Brownies went. The light of day was left behind them; all was dark,
except where the lanterns shed a narrow circle of light.
A cry of horror broke from MacWhirlie. On the sides of the cave hung the
forms of two Brownies. They were fastened by silk ropes to the silken
lining of the tunnel, and swung stark and cold. They were dead.
[Illustration: FIG. 122.--A Clod Containing the Silken Nest of the
California Trap-door Spider.]
"Who are they?" cried Hope, as he peered through the glimmering light to
recognize, if possible, the dead sentinels. "Is the Captain there?"
The explorers' hearts were very heavy. It was sad enough, however it
might turn out. But oh! if their beloved leader should come to this end?
"Is it the Captain?" echoed Rise and Shine.
MacWhirlie, who was nearest the swinging corpses, had been scanning them
closely. He made out the one nearest him. "This is Sharpsight--beyond a
doubt. The other is--"
"Well, the other?--"
In the dim light it was difficult to determine. Bruce and Standwhile
were very like in form and stature, and there were few marks in the
Brownie uniform by which men could be distinguished from officers.
"It--is--Standwhile!" The decision was given slowly, but confidently.
Yes, the sentinels were gone, but the Captain was yet to be found.
"We must send our poor comrades aloft," said MacWhirlie, "before we go
further. Pull the signal rope, Hope. And have the ladder shifted a
little nearer the bodies."
Hope was soon aloft, and down again; the ladder was shifted, the dead
sentinels fastened to the ropes, and hoisted slowly out of their charnel
house. Down in the cave the groans and cry with which the corpses of
their comrades were greeted, were heard by the little band of devoted
explorers. Once more the ropes were lowered, were fastened as before,
and the Brownies pushed on in the darkness. They reached the bottom of
the cave at last. Not a sound was heard save the echoes of their own
voices in the hollow depth. There were carcasses of huge insects, and
legs, wings, and heads thereof scattered over the floor. The Brownies
stumbled over these at every step. Not a sign of the Captain!
Around and around they went, sounding the walls with their axes,
cutting away the silken tapestry here and there. There was clearly but
one chamber; no secret doors or inner rooms at that point at least.
"Then we must look higher up," said the Lieutenant. "There must
somewhere be a branch tunnel, in which the Captain, living or dead, has
been stored away. Look sharp, my men."
Up they clambered, scrutinizing at every round the circular wall of the
cave. They reached the point where the dead sentinels had hung. Some
unevenness in the surface here caught MacWhirlie's quick eyes. He struck
the end of his battle-axe upon the wall. Hark! there was a faint echo
within. The place was hollow! He smote again; a third time the axe fell;
but ere it reached the wall a door opened so violently that it struck
and put out the lantern in the Lieutenant's hand. Fortunately, as it
proved, the axe blade fell upon the bevel of the door, and was thereby
wedged into the opening, leaving the door slightly ajar.
"What is it?" cried Rise.
"One of the brood of the Pixie queen," answered the Lieutenant. "I
caught a glimpse of the creature's claw and fangs as the trap-door
opened. It is a young giant. Our Captain is inside this branch, and this
Pixie prince is guarding him. Here, lay hold of the trap!" Rise and Hope
joined their comrades upon the ladder. Slits were cut in the tapestry,
and seizing the fragments the Brownies tugged with utmost strength to
pull open the door. It was hung so loosely that it ought to have opened
almost of its own weight; yet the Brownies could not move it.
"The Prince is holding it against us,"[BD] said MacWhirlie. "We must
have help from above. Quick! fasten these ropes into the slits upon the
door. There, that will do finely. Now, aloft, Hope! Let the men above
pull upon these ropes. Brace them back when you find them giving away
enough, and fasten them firmly. Then descend, and bring my two-edged
sword with you, old 'Charity.'"
These orders were obeyed with amazing rapidity. Hope inspired his
fellows with the news that the Captain might yet be found. But, withal,
there was a cloud upon many faces. It seemed hard to be up there pulling
at ropes, while a blow was to be struck for their Captain's liberty. And
then, was their noble Lieutenant, their leader now, to risk his life in
that cave with so few to support him? The Pixie prince was a youth, it
was true; but a giant nevertheless, and a match for a whole company of
the best Brownies.
[Illustration: FIG. 123.--The California Trap-door Spider (Cteniza
Californica).]
The messenger who had gone down with MacWhirlie's sword returned with an
order that pacified this discontent. Two more ladders were to be let
down into the cave. Over these soldiers were to be stationed as closely
as convenient. Thus there were two lines of Brownies reaching from the
surface of the earth to the mouth of the branch, all ready for any
service, and in communication with the troops above. These arrangements
were soon made.
Then came the signal, "Hoist away!" The ropes tightened; the door began
slowly to yield. MacWhirlie stood upon the ladder close by the edge of
the trap, holding the side ropes with one hand and grasping his
two-edged sword in the other. The Pixie's black claws came into view;
they were fastened upon the inside cover of the trap, and the whole
weight and strength of the young giant were opposing the opening.
"Hah! Take that then," cried the Lieutenant, striking upon the exposed
claw, which was thus nearly severed from the arm. The giant released his
hold and backed slowly up the branch. By this time the trap-door had
been well nigh lifted up from the wall, and was held steady by the ropes
above, which were securely fastened. MacWhirlie entered the open door of
the branch followed closely by Shine, Rise and Hope.
"Fasten your lanterns to the sides," said MacWhirlie. There were hooks
on the handles for such uses, which, by a single motion of the hand,
were caught into the silken lining, and thence the fox-fire lights threw
their glow into the darkness. Sword in hand the four Brownies advanced,
the Lieutenant in front. The bulky form of the Pixie prince opposed
them. They stood a moment, silent and prayerful, ere closing to the
conflict. They knew that their lives hung in the balance, and girded
themselves for the issue. Back from the inner darkness, in that
momentary waiting, a voice called faintly:
"Hal--loo!"
"Hark, my men; it is the Captain!" cried MacWhirlie, waving his sword,
while the cave fairly rang with his answering shout, "Hello!"
Again the voice came, stronger than before, saying, "who is there?" It
was indeed the voice of Bruce.
"Brownies!" answered the four men in chorus; "Brownies to the rescue!"
[Illustration: FIG. 124.--"Claw Marks Upon the Inside Cover of the
Trap-door."]
They threw themselves upon the Pixie, smiting face and breast, arms and
legs with swift, strong blows. Prince Proud (for that was his name) made
but a feeble resistance. Once or twice he stretched out his arms as
though to grapple with his assailants, but the Brownies easily avoided
him, and springing forward again, showered their sharp blows upon the
huge foe. The cause of this apathy was soon explained; he was just over
a season of moulting, or changing his skin! Several times before they
are grown, Pixies go through this strange process. The whole outer skin
peels off. During the change the creatures are almost helpless, and lie
still, taking little or no food. After the skin is off, it takes
several days for them to regain their strength. During the whole time of
this change nothing but the sorest need can stir them up to even as
great exertion as Proud had already made.[BE] MacWhirlie saw his
advantage at once. He understood how they had escaped thus far so
easily. His hopes rose into confidence. He spoke with new cheer.
"Forward, merrily! Sergeant Rise, order in the men who are on the
ladders; I shall cut my way past the Pixie to the Captain!" He struck
upon the Prince's face, as he ran forward, gave a back-handed stroke as
he passed, and then fairly dodged under Proud's legs and passed on into
the darkness.
"Captain," he called, "Captain!"
"Here!" was the answer from the far end of the cavern, in the well-known
voice of dear old Bruce. "This way, whoever you are. I am bound hand and
foot."
On, into the darkness the Lieutenant ran, thinking nothing and caring
nothing for obstacles. The little light at the mouth of the cave was
shut out from the interior by Proud's huge body; but guided by the voice
MacWhirlie strode on through the gloom, and fairly stumbled at last upon
his Captain's prostrate form. In a moment the keen edge of Charity had
cut the silken cords with which Bruce was swathed, and the strong arms
of MacWhirlie lifted him to his feet.
"Who is it?" cried the Captain with trembling voice.
"It is I--MacWhirlie!" And throwing his arms about the captive's neck
the brave dragoon sobbed for joy.
Suddenly the darkness of the cave was broken by a flood of light that
relieved even the shadows of that end of the cavern where Bruce had
lain. MacWhirlie turned. Proud was gone! The Brownies at the mouth of
the cave were in great confusion, some sprawling upon the floor, some
scrambling to their feet, some swinging by the roof, some hanging to the
raised trap-door and some to the mouth of the cave. In the excitement of
the moment MacWhirlie let go his hold upon the Captain. The limbs of the
unfortunate chief were so benumbed by his severe handling and the
tightness of the ropes with which he was bound, that he fell upon the
floor.
"Ah, my poor Captain," exclaimed MacWhirlie, "pardon my
thoughtlessness!" Without more ado he lifted the fallen officer in his
arms, and started toward the cave's mouth. Rise, Hope and several others
were already hurrying inward to find their officers. They met MacWhirlie
midway of the cavern staggering under his burden. A shout of joy burst
from their lips at the sight. It was subdued at once, as the noble
fellows caught sight of their leader's pale face. But the note had gone
on from lip to lip, out of the branch tunnel, up the walls of the main
cavern, along the line of soldiers who hung upon the ropes, to the group
who gathered around the open door. The sentinels caught up the cry; it
flew from man to man until it reached the camp, and then, led by the
sound of trumpets and the blast of bugles, the whole wood and valley
rang with such a cheer as never before went up even from Brownie
throats:
"Hurrah! Rejoice! Our lost is found!"
The squirrels stopped upon the branches of the trees, threw their bushy
tails above their backs, pricked up their tiny ears, listened a moment,
then joined in the cry of their friends, with merry barking. The birds
stopped in their flight, or alit upon the boughs, perked their pretty
heads to this side and that, as though they were asking, "what is the
matter?" Then they, too, joined in the shout of their good friends the
Brownies, whistling, trilling, carolling until the air was alive with
songs. The trees clapped their leaf hands together; the flowers raised
their plumed hats; the bees, butterflies and wasps hummed in chorus with
the joyful cry. It seemed as though all nature had joined in with their
happy friends to celebrate the rescue of Bruce, chief of the Brownies;
and happiest heart of all was that of Agatha the good.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BD: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote BE: Appendix, Note B.]
CHAPTER XXIX.
BREAKING CAMP.
The rescued Bruce was carried by his rejoicing friends and followers to
the upper air. The fresh breeze and bright sunshine wrought like a charm
to renew his strength. The time of his captivity had been short; but he
had been so roughly handled by his giant captors, and the cords with
which he had been bound had so galled him that he was quite unable to
walk. He was therefore laid upon a leaf stretcher and carried to his
tent. A few words explained the manner of his capture. He had been
surprised by the giantess who rushed upon him from behind, knocked him
senseless by a blow of her claw, bound him, and then carried him into
her den. The monster had already slain the two sentinels, sucked their
blood, and hung the bodies upon the wall where they had been found. But
Bruce was reserved to feed the maw of Prince Proud, and was therefore
thrust into the branch cave. As, however, the worthy youth was
"moulting," and in the listless estate which has been described, the
Captain lay in bonds awaiting the revival of Proud's appetite. To this
fact both Bruce and his gallant rescuers owed their lives.
"But what became of Proud?" The Lieutenant naturally raised this
question after all the party had got out of the cave.
"Well," said Sergeant Rise, laughing, "he's down there among the bones
at the bottom of the cave, alive or dead, I don't know which. After you
had dodged by the Prince, we attacked him vigorously, but he did little
more than move back slowly, occasionally striking out in a blind way.
All at once, however, he dashed forward, and plunged out of the branch
into the bottom of the main cave. We were taken by surprise, and were
sent flying in all directions in an awkward and ludicrous manner. A
score or so of Brownies had just entered the branch from the ladders,
and they were scattered like leaves in a whirl-a-wind. Two of them were
thrown upon the Pixie's shoulders, and went down with him pick-a-back
into the cavern. Fortunately, they flung themselves off upon the rope
ladders, and so escaped. Indeed, we all got off pretty well; a few
scratches, bruises and torn clothes, but nothing serious. It was about
the funniest scrape we have been in for a long time. We were taken aback
and upset by the brute's sudden dash."
[Illustration: FIG. 125.--"Moulting." A Spider Pulling Off Its Old
Skin.]
MacWhirlie joined in the hearty laughter which the recital of the
adventure awakened. "However, my lads," said he, "it might have been
anything but a comic affair. See that the trap-door is securely lashed
and fastened down, and guarded. We will look after the young giant
hereafter."
This order given, the Lieutenant was about following his Captain to the
camp when his attention was drawn to a crowd of curious Brownies
gathered around the carcass of the Pixie queen.
"Ah, yes," said he, "I must see about getting this thing out of the
way."
[Illustration: FIG. 126.--"Moulted." A Spider Hanging Beneath Its
Cast-off Skin.]
He climbed into a bush from which he could overlook at once the crowd
and the bulky form of the giantess. The greater part of the Brownies
were gazing upon the carcass, meanwhile chatting, in their lively way,
over late events. A small group of more restless spirits were bent upon
getting the fangs or tusks of the immense creature as trophies. They had
just finished their arrangements as MacWhirlie arrived, and armed with
ropes, swords and axes were scrambling over Cteniza's legs towards her
face. The legs and arms were drawn up around the body as they had been
when death overtook her. Suddenly the arms stretched forward from the
face! The legs shot out backward! "Whew! the Pixie queen has come to
life!" some one shouted.
Such a scampering as there was! The adventurous trophy seekers threw
themselves by a series of somersaults from the moving limbs, and
Brownies, axes, swords and ropes went flying in all directions through
the air. The crowd around fell back, pushing, tumbling, clambering over
one another, a panic-stricken mass.
MacWhirlie from his lookout observed this strange behavior of a dead
Pixie with amazement and alarm. "What, isn't the giantess dead?" he
exclaimed. He expected to see her rise and charge upon the confused and
struggling crowd of Brownies. But ere he could give a second thought,
Cteniza's limbs slowly fell back into their first position. She made no
other motion.
The soldiers rapidly recovered from their panic when they found they
were not pursued; then, in right Brownie fashion, began to make merry
over their own ridiculous flight. But what were they to think of this
last movement of the Pixie? Wasn't the creature dead? MacWhirlie left
his perch and took charge of affairs. He was about organizing a fresh
attack upon the giantess, when Sergeant Goodnews rode up astride his nag
Formosa. He had already heard of the strange behavior of the "corpse,"
and was ready to explain:
"The fact is, Lieutenant, the Pixinee is not dead, but you would quite
waste your energies in any new attack upon her. She will surely die. The
sting of my Moz is mortal; but for several days, perhaps weeks, Cteniza
will be just as you see her. She cannot move from that spot. If you
disturb her she will probably stretch out her limbs; but they will fall
back again, without doing any harm, and in due time the creature will
die."[BF]
The Brownies were satisfied although the explanation seemed very
strange. But they had well learned that nature's facts are often
stranger than fiction, and so believed the good Sergeant. The giantess
was left undisturbed, and MacWhirlie hastened to camp. Captain Bruce
rapidly recovered his spirits. But his nerves had received too severe a
shock to allow him to resume active command at once. Yet he could
consult with his officers as to what should now be done, and a council
of war was held in his tent. The reluctant conclusion was that it would
be better to raise the siege of Orchard Cave, and join the fleet at the
inlet. They feared that the enemy might attack the Brownie forces while
divided, and destroy them. The order was therefore given to break camp
at once.
Amid the stir of preparation for departure, MacWhirlie had forgotten
about the dead giantess. But as the Brownie troops marched by the late
scene of conflict on their way to the inlet, he was reminded of the
incident by a cry from the vanguard:
"The body of the Pixie queen is gone!"
"Is it possible? Call Sergeant Goodnews." The Sergeant reported
immediately.
"How is this, Sergeant? It seems that you were wrong about our giant
foe. She has disappeared. The Brownies haven't carried her off; the
Pixies haven't been near; she must have made off herself. You surely did
not mean to deceive us; but explain if you can."
The Sergeant gave reins to Moz, and followed by MacWhirlie on his
Bee-pony Buzz, flew straight to the spot where Cteniza had lain. The
bulky carcass was nowhere to be seen.
"Now my good Moz," said the Sergeant, "show us what you know of this
mystery." The obedient wasp, circled around the spot, and then darted
into the bushes. She soon lit upon an overhanging twig, and folded her
wings as though quite contented with herself.
"What is the matter now?" cried MacWhirlie.
"Look for yourself," said Goodnews, pointing to the ground beneath. A
mound of fresh earth was thrown up on the margin of a wide hole out of
which came the sound of rattling clods and fluttering wings.
"What is this? It explains nothing!"
"Wait a wee. There! do you see that?"
A large Pompilus wasp flew out of the hole, which she at once began to
fill with the loose clay heaped around the edge.
"That is your sexton," said Goodnews; "this is her newly made grave, and
inside you will find the missing body. The sexton is a full cousin of my
Formosa. She has dragged your giantess here by her own unaided strength;
has dug that grave which you see, and is just ready to fill it up. Are
you satisfied? If not, look for yourself."
Down flew MacWhirlie to the edge of the grave. Away went the sexton in
alarm. The Lieutenant peeped into the hole and saw the brown body and
limbs of the Pixie queen already partly covered with pellets of clay.
"I am satisfied," he said, and the two rode away. "But tell me, what
strange fancy could have turned yon insect into an amateur grave
digger?"
"It is not a matter of fancy," replied Goodnews, "but of those strong,
wise natural promptings of motherhood which men call maternal instinct.
If you had lifted one of the Pixie's limbs you might have found an egg
of the wasp snugly stowed away against the body. In due time that egg
will become a grub with a most ferocious appetite, and that appetite
will find food in the plump body of the Pixie queen. That is why nature
has given some wasps the power to paralyze by their sting the prey which
they stow away as food for the future grub; it remains fresh and
palatable instead of decaying as it would do in actual death."[BG]
When the Lieutenant again reached the head of the column it was about
passing the trap-door cave. The Brownie guards were relieved from duty,
and Prince Proud was left to his fate. As the trap had been pretty
tightly fastened down, however, t h e Brownies had good hopes that his
fate would be such as to deliver them from any further fear on his
account.
[Illustration: FIG. 127.--"The Trap-door Tightly Fastened."]
It was a pretty sight to see the Brownie troops as they marched to the
inlet. First came the cavalry, their bright trappings and many colored
butterfly steeds making a brilliant spectacle. Next to these rode
Sergeant Goodnews with the color guard, as MacWhirlie was once more at
the head of his troopers, and Ensign Lawe was still absent. The great
flag of Brownieland was borne by a sturdy dragoon mounted on a Goliath
moth. Behind these came the litter on which Captain Bruce was carried.
A small downy leaf of silver maple had been laid upon a mattress woven
out of ropes of grass and fibres of bark. The mattress was slung upon
poles on each side, and these were laid upon the shoulders of stout
Brownies, who thus carried their beloved Captain quite comfortably.
Above the litter a sunshade, made from the blossoms of a wood violet,
was borne by mounted Brownies. Behind this ambulance, and indeed
directing it, rode the Nurses, Agatha and Grace, with the assistants and
accoutrements of the sanitary corps. The maidens were pale and worn by
the grief and excitement of the last days, and rode along sadly, almost
silently. A number of litters followed the sanitary corps, bearing sick
and wounded Brownies. Then came the infantry; and last of all, a squad
of cavalry brought up the rear, the buglers piping merry notes as they
rode along.
[Illustration: FIG. 128.--Brownie Troops on the March.]
The Brownie army did not get away without annoyance from the enemy. The
Wolf Brigade and the Vaulters hung upon the rear and flanks, annoying
the troops as much as possible. Gossamer and his balloon corps hovered
above, keenly spying the column to note where an assault might be made.
The Wheel Legion spun cobwebs across the route to entangle the wings of
the cavalry. The Lineweavers and Tubeweavers spread thick sheets upon
the grass to retard the footmen's progress. The Stygian ships followed
the line of march as nearly as might be, keeping close in shore and
watching for opportunity to work harm. The Watermen, Smugglers and
Pirates pushed out from their grassy hiding places and joined in the
pursuit. The Brownies, however, were quite used to all these methods of
assault, and knew well how to meet and avoid them. Moreover, a section
of their flying artillery, with guns mounted upon bee ponies,
accompanied the march. They hovered over the van and rear and above
either flank of the column, and pelted their adversaries with shot from
their portable davids, thus keeping them at a safe distance.
[Illustration: FIG. 129.--"Cobwebs Across the Route."]
Before sunset the inlet was reached, and the army encamped safely under
protection of the big davids mounted upon the forts built at either
cape. One of these was known as Fort School, the other Fort Home; and
the guns which guarded these were called "Precept" and "Example," for
Brownies are fond of calling all manner of objects after some favorite
fact, person or virtue among their human friends.
[Illustration: FIG. 130.--Brownie Flying Artillery and Portable David.]
It was pleasant for the soldiers and sailors once more to be together,
and there were warm greetings and happy reunions. But as they pitched
their tents and kindled their camp-fires on the beautiful and familiar
bank of their beloved stream, their hearts were sad that their foes
already had possession of Lake Katrine; were swarming along its shores;
and, ere morning sunrise, would have covered the lawn once more with
their white tents, and spread their snares beneath the very windows of
the Wille mansion. Withal, as the Brownies had learned to take such
destiny as befell them with contented or at least submissive minds, they
composed themselves for the night's rest, and soon were sound asleep.
The sentinels paced the parapets of the forts, peeped through the fog
from the lookouts on shipboard, and stood watchful and silent on the
lonely picket line beyond camp.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BF: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote BG: Appendix, Note B.]
CHAPTER XXX.
THE GRAND ALLIANCE WITH SCALY, TWIST AND SLYMOUSIE.
Next morning the Brownies' forebodings were found to be well grounded;
their enemies held possession of the lawn. Lake and lawn both in Pixie
hands! It was a sorry day in Brownieland. What could be done? Not a word
as yet had been heard from Ensign Lawe, and all were uneasy thereat, for
they knew that he would not forget his mission, nor fail of it if
success were possible, nor be likely to fall into the foe's hands. Yet
his absence showed that early aid was not to be looked for from Governor
Wille, and thus hope was cut off from that quarter.
There were plans enough formed and discussed among the uneasy spirits of
the camp, but only one had practical issue. Corporal Policy, of the
Engineer Corps, proposed a grand alliance against the Pixies. The
Corporal was not in high favor among the Brownies, although he was a
shrewd fellow, and a useful one too, when kept well in control by
Sergeant True and the other officers. But in the present gloomy outlook
of affairs many were ready to listen to any counsel that looked toward
delivering the nation from its peril and restoring the Mansion to
Brownie control. It is not strange, therefore, that the Corporal's
proposed alliance was seconded by many in the camp. A delegation, with
Policy at its head, waited on Lieutenant MacWhirlie, laid the plan
before him and urged its adoption. The plan was as follows: Policy had
once done a great favor to two land elves, Twist the Serpent, and
Slymousie the Quadruped, and also to Scaly, a water sprite. They had
promised to serve him at any time in any affair. They were not on good
terms with the Pixies at the best and, the Corporal urged, would be
prompt and eager to fulfill their promise against the common foe.
"Now," continued Policy, "I propose that we organize an expedition
against the Stygians in this wise: let Scaly fall upon their ships, sink
as many as she can with the stroke of her tail, and drag the rest by
their cables or push them with her head upon the shore. Our troops and
ships can attack them, at this disadvantage, with certainty of victory.
At the same time let Twist and Slymousie break in upon the Pixie camp,
and bite, crush and destroy. Slymousie is a cunning and active
adversary, and Twist is so much bigger than the Pixies that they cannot
stand before him. Then, there is nothing like fighting these poison
breeding creatures with their own weapons. Poison to kill poison, say
I!" quoth Corporal Policy; "shrewdness to overcome cunning! That is true
wisdom!"
Thus, and with many other arguments, Policy and his friends pressed
their alliance. MacWhirlie had little favor for the scheme, as it was
contrary to Brownie nature and custom; but, in sheer desperation, he at
last consented that Policy should take charge of a company of volunteers
and try his plan; especially as he thought it could work no harm, and
would keep some restless spirits occupied.
The volunteers were readily enlisted and pushed off hopefully to find
the haunts of Dragon Twist, Slymousie the Quadruped and Sprite Scaly.
Twist was soon found sunning himself upon a limb of a sapling that grew
above the big stone under which he had his nest. When the party spied
him the Corporal mounted upon the rock and sounded a note or two upon
his bugle. Twist slowly lifted his head above the leaves, flung a coil
of his tail around a twig, looked down and at once recognized his
friend. He hissed forth as pleasant a greeting as he knew how to give,
listened patiently to Policy's request, looked wise, nodded his head in
approval, and at once promised to do his utmost.
"I will keep faith with you, good fairy," he said, lisping out the words
between tongue and teeth. "You may depenth upon me to crush out your old
enemieth, body, bag and baggage." Whereupon he wriggled among the
leaves, and took an extra coil or two of his tail around the twig.
"Thanks!" cried Policy, "and now, when will you begin operations, and
how many of us will you want to help you?"
"Now, I will begin now!" answered Twist; "and ath to aid, I athk for
none. If a few of you would like to go with me to thee my triumph over
the Pikthieth, come along! I thall make thort work of it, and you can
come back and thing my praitheth."
The Corporal detailed a squad of his men to go with Twist, and hurried
away to engage the service of Scaly. The water sprite was not so easily
found. Somewhere in the lake close by the rocks of the cape she had her
favorite haunt. The Brownies swung upon the overhanging weeds and bushes
and peered into the water, but could see nothing of her. Policy sounded
his bugle in vain. At length a water beetle, of the family known as
Whirligigs, thrust itself out of the lake, and began capering upon the
surface.
"Hello!" cried the Corporal.
"Her-rr-reep!" said the Whirligig, skipping nearer to the shore.
"Have you seen Scaly the Sprite down below?" asked Policy, "and would
you kindly tell us where she may be found?"
"Aye, that I can, Mr. Brownie. But what could you do even if I were to
tell you? Would you go down to the bottom of the lake to speak to her?
Ha, ha!" The little water beetle, who had been joined now by a group of
companions, cut sundry gyrations upon the lake, and circled round and
round in a merry dance with his friends. Clearly he was much pleased
that he was able to do something which a fairy could not do.
"Come now, Master Whirligig," said the Corporal, "you must oblige us in
this matter. You know that Brownies are your good friends; and you know
that we can't do what you can. Go and tell Scaly that we want to see
her."
"So I will!" answered the water beetle, good naturedly.
"So we will!" chirped all his companions. Turning suddenly the whole
party plunged into the water, every one carrying down with him on the
tip of the abdomen a bubble of air to supply him with breath while under
water. They made their way straight to a stone of quartz whose
crystallized sides glittered in the light that penetrated the stream.
"Sprite Scaly, Sprite Scaly!" called the beetles in chorus, while they
held fast to the rock with their claws.
A form slowly lifted itself from the shadows under the edge of the rock
and rose higher and higher until it was quite on a level with the top
whereon Whirligig and his friends sat. It was a fish, with silver-white
scales and red eyes. She floated in the water, which she lazily beat
with her fins and tail, opening and shutting her gills, looking all the
while very sedate indeed.
"Sprite Scal_ee_! Ah! here you are!" cried the beetles as they caught
sight of the fish poised above them. "Brownie Policy sent us down to
tell you that he claims your service. He waits on the shore above. Good
bye!" Up they went without more ado, and in a moment were again circling
around upon the surface of the lake.
Scaly was not far behind them. Lazy as she looked, she could dart
through the water like an arrow, and sooner than we tell it, had reached
the bank and thrust her face close to the feet of the Corporal. Policy
repeated his plan and got as hearty assent from Scaly as from Twist.
"What shall we do to support you?" asked Policy.
"Well, there's nothing very 'special," said Scaly, spitting out half a
dozen mouthfuls of water. "The Natties had better follow up my attack in
their own way. They'll not have much to do but gather up drowned Pixies,
I reckon; or maybe capture some of their boats as the Stygies make off
from their damaged ships."
The Sprite and the Corporal agreed upon the time for the attack, and
thereupon Scaly turned, gave her tail a few self-satisfied flops, and
dived out of sight.
The third party to the proposed alliance was Slymousie the Quadruped.
"We shall find her in the field," said Corporal Policy, and sent off
several men to hunt for her. The Brownies climbed the hill back of the
Mansion and by and by found the cave, just on the edge of the orchard,
where Mrs. Slymousie had her nest. It was quite hidden away beneath the
overtopping meadow grass. A round bunch of chopped and twisted hay was
balled up within it, which made it snug and warm. The Brownies swung
themselves down by the grass blades and roots until they were well
within the cave, when the Corporal called a halt and blew his bugle.
There was much shrill squeaking down at the bottom of the nest, and a
sudden rustling amid the dry upholstery, as the youngsters scampered
away into hiding.
Once more Corporal Policy blew his bugle, and then called loudly:
"Slymousie--hello! It's no one but I--the Brownie. Hello--come out and
see the Brownie!"
At last a low, timid voice squeaked forth the question, "Who's there?"
"Corporal Policy the Brownie! Don't you know me?"
"Oh, yes! to be sure I know you now. But, dear me! you nearly frightened
me into a fit. I thought it was Grimalkin the Housecat; or that
miserable old Owl that nests in the hilltop wood. Are you
sure--it's--only you?"
"Yes, yes, Slymousie; don't be absurd! Who else could it be? I came to
claim your help against our old enemies the Pixies."
"Dear, dear! Don't mention it, I pray. What could I do against those
dreadful creatures? It quite flusters me to think of it, indeed.
Besides, I have a large family now at home; some of them very young; too
young to leave alone. Really, you must excuse me this time. Dear, dear!
My heart is going pit-apat, pit-apat at the very thought."
Policy was not to be put off so easily, and remained some time trying to
persuade his friend. But he quite failed, and was about to leave, when
who should come into the cave but Master Biggy, Mrs. Slymousie's oldest
son by the next-to-last brood. He had been out on a visit to his
sweetheart, and dropped in to see if mother hadn't a nice bit of cheese,
or bumblebee bread, or some such delicacy for him. He heard enough of
the conversation to excite his love of adventure, and at once
volunteered to take his mother's place.
"Do you think you are old enough to measure strength with the Pixies?"
asked Policy.
"Old enough?" exclaimed Biggy indignantly. "Old enough, indeed! Look at
me, now! I'm nearly as large as mother, and not half so timid as she.
Just you wait, Sir! You shall see that Biggy Slymousie is no small
affair when it comes to fighting Pixies. I'm a match for any score of
'em in strength; and as for slyness--well, you shall see!"
Biggy was certainly a stout enough specimen of a half-grown Slymousie,
and as he seemed not to be lacking in spirit, and had a keen mind for
the work, his service was gladly accepted. It was arranged that he
should attack the Pixie force in the rear, while Twist assaulted in
front; and having instructed him as to the time of assault, and arranged
some details, the Corporal retired with his squad, highly elated at his
success. Thus the grand alliance was formed. We shall now see what
became of it.
When the sun had gone down, the full moon rose. It poured a flood of
rays upon the mansion, lit up the lawn, and lay like a golden crown on
the top of Hillside. The Pixies were in high glee over their prospects.
Their ships had drawn up around the inlet as near as they dared to come;
their troops had been ferried across the lake, and were already closing
up the lines of investment around that part of the Brownie camp which
lay on the side toward the mansion. From this point the Pixie tents and
snares stretched across the lawn to the flower border by the walk. In
this direction Twist turned his course. He crossed the brook, holding
his head aloft as he wriggled his body through the water. The Brownies
followed on their moth ponies.
[Illustration: FIG. 131.--The "Bridge That Tetragnatha Had Builded."]
The Serpent stopped a moment upon the shore, then dashed at the Pixie
breastworks, which broke into fragments before his assault. Many of the
guards were knocked over by the swoop of his tail, others were crushed
under the coils of his body, others were pierced through by his sharp
fangs. The camp was in consternation. A broad swath of fallen tents,
broken fortifications and dead Pixies marked the progress of the mighty
Twist, and throngs of fugitives fled across the brook by a bridge that
Tetragnatha had builded, and which quite reached from shore to shore.
What a small affair serves to turn the tide of events, at times! A
little hop-toad, disturbed by the commotion, leaped from beneath a cool
leaf to ask "What's the matter?"
"Aha, my beauty," cried Twist, "you're my game!" and he snapped up
toadie in a twinkling. One would have thought it a painful thing for
Twist to eat his meals, for he writhed, and jerked his body as though he
were in torment. However, he appeared to grow more comfortable after a
while, and stretched himself out on the grass as though to enjoy a nap.
The Brownies were not pleased to see their friend the hop-toad dealt
with so unceremoniously. The poor fellow and his brothers had stood by
the fairies in many a stout bout with the Pixies. To be sure the toads
would eat their enemies; but as they never insisted upon sharing such
rations with their friends, the Brownies made no objections. To have
their new ally serve their old friend in this style was sad work, and
their indignation waxed warm. But when Twist stopped short in his path,
and deliberately composed himself to rest, the Brownies could not
restrain themselves.
"How is this," they cried, "do you mean to leave off a work so well
begun? Come, this is not keeping faith. Up, and renew the attack! You
will rout the whole Pixie army before sunrise if you keep on."
"Thank--ee--kind--le," drawled Twist, winking first with one eye and
then with the other. "I nev' c'n work af'r thupper. Muth take time t'
digest. Sh'nt do 'nything till '--r--morer. 'M go'n thleep right here.
Goo' night, Thir Brownithz, 'll finish job'n mornin'." His head dropped
down upon the grass; he was sound asleep.
"Humph," said Corporal Spur, who had charge of the squad, "that ends
this campaign. If the Pixies don't serve that gourmand with a rather
peppery sauce for his supper, I'm out in my reckoning. Attention, squad!
wheel--fly!" He wheeled his own pony, and led his little command back to
their quarters. As they flew above the Pixie lines they saw the camp
alive with excited troops swarming from every quarter toward the spot
where Twist lay.
A squad of reckless youngsters who had jointly mounted the back of a
huge Polyphemus moth, could not resist the temptation to let fly a few
arrows at the crowd of excited Pixies beneath them. One of the squad,
our old friend Highjinks, nearly lost his life, however, for in his
eagerness he tumbled off the pony's back. Fortunately, Hosson seized one
hand and drew him back safely. But it was a narrow escape, and even
Highjinks was for a time quite sedate as he thought what his fate would
have been had he dropped into the midst of that angry host of foes. In
the excitement, Polyphemus came quite near the ground, and barely
escaped being lassoed by one of the Vaulting Legion.
Meanwhile, a circle of Pixies had hemmed in the sleeping serpent; but no
one dared to interfere with him until Spite came. Then they began to
clamor for orders:
"What shall we do, Captain?"
"Do?" said Spite, fairly hissing the answer through his teeth. "Do? Why,
we'll hang the villain!"
"Aha! Captain Spite talks very large, indeed," whispered the soldiers
one to another. "Who ever heard of Pixies hanging a serpent?"
At any rate Spite intended to try it now. Already he had climbed upon a
bush that overhung the sleeping monster, had fastened a cord to a twig
and dropped down upon his head. Twist moved. Spite retreated upon his
cord, and in a trice was half way up toward the twig.
"Come back, Captain, you'll lose your life," shouted the crowd.
"Tut! trust me for that! Why, don't you see? The brute is dead stupid
from his meal, and perfectly harmless."
Down he ran again. This time Twist did not move. Spite fastened a line
upon his head, dropped down by the side of his face, and burrowing into
the grass, cleared a path directly under the jaws. Through this he
carried his line, then up again along the opposite side of the face, and
knotted it. He had thus passed a cord entirely around the serpent's
face.
"Now, my braves," said he, "I have shown what I want you to do, and how
to do it. Here, a score of you wind up these jaws until they are
completely gagged. Another squad may take a knot in his tail, tie it,
lash it to a strong rope, and swing it up to that branch. I'll show you
what more to do. Work sharp, now, and touch the brute as gently as
possible. We shall surprise him, when he wakes up, with a new suit of
clothes. He, he!"
The Pixinees and Pixies went to work with a hearty good will, and soon
had finished their task.
"Now mount that branch and pull on the rope." The tail was raised a
little, and then the work paused. Nothing more could be done in that
way. "We must rig up a pulley, then," said Spite. "Bring me a dead fly,
quick!"
The carcass of a green fly was readily found. It was swung down from the
branch, and wrapped round and round until it became a hard silken ball.
The rope which had been tied to the tail was now carried over this
pulley, or windlass as it might be more properly called. The ball was
slowly revolved by the united strength of a number of Pixies; the rope
gradually wound around it as it grew taut, and the body of Twist began
to move. Thereat the crowd broke into hearty applause, clapping their
fangs and claws together until the camp rang. The noise appeared to
disturb Twist, or perhaps the effects of his meal were beginning to pass
away. He raised his head feebly, shook it from side to side, discovered
that his jaws were bound tightly together, and began to wriggle his body
violently, whereat the circle of Pixies fell back.
[Illustration: FIG. 132.--Twist, the Serpent, Hung in the Pixie Snare.]
"Pull lively, lads!" cried Spite, who was prudently perched upon the top
of the branch. "Lively! a few more turns and we shall have him all
right. There, that will do bravely. Now he may squirm as much as he
pleases." Twist was indeed bound and hung up beyond hope of recovery,
although he was making desperate efforts to escape.[BH]
"Straighten out that cord, my lads, as much as possible," called Spite.
"Run up supporting lines to the limb here. Fasten down the coils on the
ball so that the rope won't give. Then, hurrah! We'll have a taste of
dragon blood before we go to bed." Spite ran down upon Twist's body as
he spoke, and fastening himself upon the neck, struck with his fangs
again and again. He then comfortably settled himself for a meal. In the
meantime a number of the working squad had followed their Captain's
example. Poor Twist! he was being literally devoured alive. Like many
other wise persons, he had fallen a victim to ill-governed appetite.
Thus ended his proud boasts and the campaign most prosperously begun. A
Brownie scout, attracted by the great commotion in the Pixie camp, stole
through the lines and discovering the cause, returned with the news
which was soon known by all the Brownies at the inlet. But Spite was not
long permitted to enjoy his well-earned supper. A runner bustled through
the crowd and shouted for the Captain.
"Here I am," answered Spite, quitting his hold upon Twist's neck and
dropping to the ground. "What's the matter now?"
"Matter enough, Sir! The rear of our camp has been attacked by young
Slymousie, and everything there is in panic and confusion."
"The prowling sneak! The Brownies have put him up to it, I warrant.
Rally the men! We must try to drive him back."
Thereupon Spite started at full speed to the rear. He found affairs
quite as bad as they had been reported. Biggy had cautiously approached
the camp and, crawling low in the grass, slipped by the picket line
undiscovered. Then with a rush and bound he leaped upon a group of Pixie
sentinels who stood at the guard tent talking over the late incident
with Dragon Twist. Unfortunately his caution, which is a good trait,
was pushed to an undue degree, which is bad practice in a soldier. The
fact is, that in spite of his boastings, Biggy's heart failed him a
little when he came to face the danger, and thus his approach was so
timid and slow that instead of striking the Pixie camp, as had been
agreed, at the moment of Twist's assault, he did not attack it until
Twist was fairly over his onset. This proved to be a fatal blunder.
However, when he once began work, he pushed it vigorously enough. He
dispersed the sentinels hither and thither, broke down their tent and
burst into the midst of the encampment. He struck, pushed and bit to the
right and left, and soon had laid a broad swath of destruction along his
path. In the midst of this high success he came upon the scattered
contents of a bumble-bee's nest, which the Pixies had been pillaging. It
was a most unlucky circumstance, for all the Slymousie tribe are fond of
bee-bread and honey, and Biggy was hungry. He stopped, smelled the bee
combs, turned over a few cells with his nose and then began to nibble.
"Just one little taste," he said, "and then I'll go on with my duty."
Ah, Biggy Slymousie, take care! Your enemies are all around you. This is
the time for duty, not for delicacies. Touch not, taste not, handle not!
The temptation may prove too strong for you!
But Biggy silenced the voice of his better judgment, and nibbled away.
Now, Slymousies are always dainty and deliberate in their way of eating,
which, as a rule, is quite proper and nice. But when one is in the midst
of a hard and perilous battle, daintiness cannot safely be indulged.
Spite the Spy arrived on the scene just as Biggy had fairly settled down
to enjoy a hearty meal. With a curse of thorough contempt hurled at the
silly glutton, the Pixie chief began his preparations for revenge. He
sent for engineers Tegenaria and Agalena of the Tubeweaver legion, and
ordered out Theridion and his pioneers. The Pixies set to work with a
will, and ere Biggy had finished his meal had completely surrounded him
with a thick, strong and high wall of web work. While Biggy nibbled,
nibbled, the Pixies spun and wove around him their fatal snares. Poor
Biggy!
[Illustration: FIG. 133.--"One of Tegenaria's Thick Snares."]
At last all was ready. The Theridion pioneers were sent aloft among the
overhanging grasses, the Tubeweavers went to their holes, and those in
front of Slymousie provided themselves with silken blankets. Then Spite
ordered a company of vaulters, runners and side-goers to the bushes
behind Biggy. They moved to their places noiselessly, and awaited the
order to assault. It came at last.
[Illustration: FIG. 134.--"Wrapped up as Tightly as a Captive
Grasshopper Swathed by a Big Garden Spider."]
"Charge!" shouted Spite. Stridulans at the same moment struck the long
roll on his drum, and the Pixies rushed in upon Biggy. The poor fellow
was so frightened that he made a great leap forward. The Pixies who had
fallen upon him were scattered in all directions, but, alas for
Slymousie, he alighted within one of Tegenaria's thick snares.[BI]
Immediately the Tubeweavers closed upon him with their blankets, as
Spanish bull fighters assail a wild bull. They blindfolded his eyes,
covered his nostrils, and veiled his face, until they were wrapped up as
tightly as a captive grasshopper swathed by a big garden spider.
Theridion and his Lineweavers followed this attack, and flung their
swathing bands around Biggy's limbs. The poor fellow, in spite of his
struggles, was soon wrapped up like a mummy, and at last lay still and
submitted to his doom. Spite rigged block and tackle and windlass, such
as had been used to hoist Twist; then he fastened ropes to Biggy's tail,
and bade the Pixies pull away. Soon the unfortunate young Slymousie was
raised aloft and hung by his tail with his nose upon the ground.[BJ] His
foes surrounded him, pinched him, laughed, jeered, shot at him, until
death came to relieve him of his tormentors. Thus the second of Corporal
Policy's grand allies came to grief.
[Illustration: FIG. 135.--Slymousie Hung up by the Tail.]
But the Pixies were not left to enjoy their triumph long. A runner ran
into the circle and hurried to the chief's side. "What's in the wind
now?" asked Spite.
"Well, Sir," said the runner, who was quite blowed and caught at his
breath between the words, "there's the--mischief--to pay--down at--the
lake. The navy is all in--commotion. The Natties have got the help of
Scaly the Fish, and have broken loose upon our Stygies with a vengeance.
Scaly has already stove in two of our ships and a half dozen boats. She
is like to sink the whole navy if we can't stop her somehow. The Admiral
has sent for you."
Spite was as near being overcome by this news as was possible for him,
but he soon recovered. "Here, Pixies!" he shouted, "down to the beach,
every one of you. This game will keep till you come back,--if you ever
do get back!" he added in an undertone a remark that showed pretty
clearly that he thought there was serious work before them.
Matters did indeed have an ugly look when Spite reached the shore. The
wrecks of two ships and several boats were floating in the water, with
Stygians clinging to them. Boats were pushing out from the remaining
ships bent on leaving them and seeking safety on land. Two other vessels
were standing out to sea with all sails set, and the flagship Styx,
followed closely by the Goodtime, was slowly making for the shore. Spite
took in the situation at a glance.
"But what do the Natties mean?" he asked. "They seem quite as much taken
by surprise as our fellows. Saving a brace of boats yonder, there is not
a Brownie ship under sail. Ah! there they go, now! See those lights on
the Emma? That's the signal to make sail. And there goes the signal 'to
quarters.' Oho! we'll have our hands full now. But I don't see through
it. Surely, Scaly the Fish isn't operating on her own hook!"
The reader will understand Spite's perplexity. Most of the Brownies were
indeed taken by surprise. MacWhirlie had not even told Bruce and Rodney
of Corporal Policy's plot. He had looked upon it simply as one of the
madcap undertakings which his troopers were always ready for, and in
which he liked to please them when he could do so. But that it would
have any serious results never entered his mind. With the exception,
therefore, of the volunteers engaged in the expedition, few were ready
for action. But when the vigorous and successful raid of Scaly was seen
by the clear light of the moon, the Brownies were all astir on lake and
shore. The big davids were double manned. The ships made sail and
prepared for action.
[Illustration: FIG. 136.--Wolf Strangle Leaps Upon Scaly's Back.]
At this point Scaly turned her attention on the Pixie ships Styx and
Goodtime. Mindful of the wishes of her friend Policy, she resolved to
carry these vessels into the inlet as a present to the Brownies and as
trophies of her prowess. She therefore darted between the shore and the
ships, stopped the vessels' motion by running athwart their bows, then
placing her head first against one, and next the other, pushed them by
alternate shoves toward the mouth of the inlet, out of which the Natties
were slowly sailing.
Scaly was in high good humor, and made the lake behind her boil under
the frisky strokes of her tail as she urged the Stygian barks forward.
The Pixies were in despair. The Brownies from the shore of the lake and
the decks of their ships sent up ringing cheers.
Then came a sudden turn in affairs. The master of the Goodtime, Wolf
Strangle, was not a person to give up his ship without a struggle. He
was a strong, active Pixie, a vigorous swimmer, fierce and brave. He
made a desperate resolution: He would grapple with Scaly the Fish
single-handed! He laid aside his sword, threw off his uniform coat and
hat, and mounted the railing at the stern of the ship. The sailors
gathered around him and waited silently to see what was his purpose.
They would never have guessed the truth but they knew their captain and
were looking for something gallant and startling in which they expected
to take part. This is what they saw:
Scaly had just given the Styx a vigorous shove, and turned to do the
same service to the Goodtime. She scarcely noticed the dark form of
Strangle poised upon the railing, but thrust her nose under the stern of
the ship, played her fins and tail, and sent the vessel merrily ahead.
At this moment Strangle leaped fairly upon her back, seized her with his
claws on the forward side of the dorsal fin, and sunk his fangs again
and again into the fish's flesh.
Scaly wheeled to one side, leaped out of the water, and dived deep into
the lake. Her whole frame was quivering with the pain and shock of the
sudden assault. The Stygians on the two ships crowded the rails and
ladders, and gazed eagerly toward the spot where they had seen the two
sink out of sight. They had great confidence in Commander Strangle, but
they feared that, famous waterman as he was, he would be worsted in
this combat.
"He will be drowned!" cried one.
"He dives like a duck," said another, "and will come up all right."
"No; it was madness to grapple with a fish many times his size, and in
her own element," said a third.
Now the voice of Admiral Quench was heard ordering first all hands to
quarters, and then to tack ship. The Stygies ran to their posts, the
topmen flew aloft, and in a few moments both ships were turned about,
and under full sail from the inlet. Quench had taken advantage of the
diversion to put all the distance possible between himself and the
Natties.
[Illustration: FIG. 137.--How a Spider Captured a Fish.]
Before this movement was finished Scaly had emerged from the water. The
black form of Strangle still clung to her back! The poor fish made the
most frantic efforts to shake off her enemy, who held on as with a death
grip. Scaly plunged under the Styx and tried to scrape off the Pixie
against the keel. Strangle swung his body over upon the fish's side but
never relaxed his merciless grasp. Frantic with pain and terror, Scaly
swam round and round in circles, plunged into the water again and again,
and finally, nearly worn out, dragged herself toward the shore, and ran
her head under the grass. Strangle held on to her body with his fangs,
laid hold with his claws upon the grass stalks above him, and drawing
himself up with his utmost power, had well nigh succeeded in landing his
huge prey ere Spite and his friends reached the spot.[BK] In a few
moments more the unfortunate Scaly was drawn up upon the green bank,
where she was at once assailed by a brood of voracious Pixies in the
same manner as her unhappy ally Twist the Serpent. Strangle quietly
shook the water from his hair, and perched upon a cliff, together with
Spite and other officers, to watch the turn of events. The fate of Scaly
had made a great change in the condition of the two fleets.
The Stygians had been much scattered, but were beginning to rally. Their
boats put back to the abandoned ships, carrying with them many of the
sailors who had been picked up from the wrecks. The loss of the Stygians
was two ships, several boats and a few drowned sailors. But the victory
over Scaly, and the moral effect upon the navy, was counted a fair
offset to this loss, and on the whole the Pixies were mightily satisfied
with the night's work.
On the other hand, the Natties had at once taken in sail, and cast
anchor. Some damage had been wrought upon their enemies by the
expedition of Twist, Slymousie and Scaly; but the defeat and capture of
these mammoth adversaries, under circumstances that showed to such
advantage the Pixies' skill and power, well nigh demoralized the
Brownies. Thrice that night had their enemies wrested victory from the
jaws of defeat, and had triumphantly annihilated the Grand Alliance of
Corporal Policy. While the Pixies were highly elated, the Brownies were
dispirited, cowed, well nigh in despair. But, courage, good fairies! The
Hebrews had a proverb--"When the tale of bricks is doubled, then comes
Moses!"
"The darkest hour is just before the dawn."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote BH: Appendix, Note A.]
[Footnote BI: Appendix, Note B.]
[Footnote BJ: Appendix, Note C.]
[Footnote BK: Appendix, Note D.]
CHAPTER XXXI.
HOME AGAIN.
Sightwell, the lookout on the Emma, had observed, during the late
stirring events, a suspicious-looking craft hovering on the outer line
of the Stygian fleet. It was a yacht, apparently one of the privateers
or smugglers that infested the lake. When first sighted it was hugging
the shore, the side opposite the Pixie camp, as though planning a raid
upon the Brownies encamped on that side of the inlet. When the Stygies
had been scattered by Scaly's first onset, this yacht pushed boldly out
from shore, and headed directly for the inlet, as though she would come
to the rescue of her friends. In the excitement of the closing incidents
in Scaly's career, Sightwell had quite forgotten the stranger; but as
the Emma came to anchor, he sighted her once more. She was bearing down
upon the inlet under full sail.
"Sail ho!" cried the lookout.
"Where away?" called Ask the mate.
"Dead ahead, and bearing straight down upon us."
"What do you make her out?"
"A yacht,--a smuggler, I judge. And--yes, there are two boats pulling
along close under her sides!"
"That looks suspicious," said Ask. "Call the Commodore."
Just as Rodney arrived on deck Sightwell called from the fore topmast
cross-trees: "Our boats are about to make an attack,--I mean the boats
that first went out with Scaly and afterward turned back shoreward.
They pull up cautiously to the strangers. The two boats from the yacht
dash away to meet them. They are about to grapple. Hah! No! what can
that mean? The men in the boats rise and swing their hats. The yachtsmen
are hanging in the rigging swinging kerchiefs, scarfs, bonnets and
swords; I can see the flutter of one and the flash of the other in the
moonlight. Hark! they are cheering each other!"
It was so, indeed. Over the shimmering surface of the lake rolled a
volume of sound such as never before went up from so small a company in
all the history of Brownieland.