POLARIS HUNTS THE BEAR
Neither Polaris nor the girl was contented to rest all the hours
away on the grassy terraces of the gateway, but wandered together
through the valley, learning more of its wonders. Everywhere they
found industry. Men and women worked in their little farm plots and
vineyards, tending the fruits and grains in which the valley was rich;
many of them akin to those known in the outside world, and others which
would have made a life study for a botanist.
In all Sardanes the work was so apportioned that the products of the
soil and of the craftsman supplied evenly the demands of the valley
dwellers. In one section lived and labored the weavers and the dyers
of cloths; in another the makers of sandals and articles of leather;
and in a roomy stone smithy they found Kard the Smith and his men, the
workers in metal, beating out buckles and jewelry, daggers, spears, and
implements of many other uses.
Not many of the smiths were necessary, for the metal in which they
worked was of incredible hardness and durability, and was tempered by
the smiths to a fineness beyond any steel. It was that which had first
attracted the attention of Polaris in the Hunters' Road, when he found
the dagger of Kard gleaming in the snow-path. Ilium it was named, and
it was mined from the volcanic rock far up in the mountainside.
Other metals were found in the rocks, but none of a quality to compare
with ilium, or none that had its iridescent beauty.
Gems they also knew, and many an ornament worn by the Sardanian men and
maids flashed with bright stones. One variety, of a wonderful rich, red
luster, Rose Emer thought were rubies, but she was not enough versed
in gem learning to be sure. If they were rubies, they were of immense
value, for they were of large sizes, and most of them were flawless to
their depths.
On the wall in the library of Kalin the priest hung a necklace of such,
containing a full score of magnificent stones, each of many carats
weight, fairly well cut into facets by the Sardanian lapidaries who had
fashioned them. Each stone was set in a ring of the glittering ilium,
attached one to another with links of the metal.
One innovation the strangers took into the valley that was hailed with
acclaim. Until the advent of Polaris and Rose Emer not a button was
known in the length of the land. Everything sartorial was fastened with
buckles.
Sardanian craftsmen and housewives were quick to note the uses of the
perforated disks, and buttons were straightaway the new fashion, and
were sewn on all garments. When enough were placed to answer their
purpose of holding things together still more were added for ornament,
until some of the Sardanian robes bore no distant likeness to the
creations of a Parisian modiste, with their rows of holeless buttons.
* * * * *
On the fifth day after their interview with the Prince Helicon, Kard
the Smith came to the gateway to repay their visit, and to bring an
invitation to Polaris to go out with a party of the hunters along the
Hunters' Road to the edge of the wilderness to hunt the white bear.
Six Sardanians made up the hunting-party, of whom two were Kard the
Smith and Morolas, one of the tall brothers of Helicon. All were armed
with spears tipped with ilium blades, axes, and daggers, and they drove
with them a four-pony sledge, with which to take home their game.
Much as Polaris would have liked to take with him the seven dogs, he
did not, for he dared not risk the lives of the animals in the fierce
sport. With the death of his dogs would die also his last chances of
winning back on the way to the North.
Some hours along the snow-path they discovered the first signs of the
game which they sought, the white bear. The sledge was halted and the
ponies outspanned. One of the Sardanian hunters was left to keep the
camp, and the rest of the party set out on the fresh trail.
Less than a mile away across the snow hummocks they came in sight of
their quarry, a magnificent specimen of the king of the pole lands,
sleek and fat and powerful from the good feeding he had found in the
temperate vicinity of the smoky hills.
"There is the bear. Now, stranger of the snows, how dost thou take
him?" said Morolas. "I understand that thou hast taken many of his
kind single-handed--unless indeed that necklace of thine was plucked
from dead bones."
Paying no attention whatever to the open sneer in the words of the
prince, Polaris made his preparation. He was too much pleased with the
prospect of the action before him to be nettled by the peevishness of
the Sardanian prince. Smilingly he loosened the long knife in his belt,
took a firm grip of his spear, one of his own steel-bladed shafts, and
crept forward across the snows where the monster awaited the coming of
the foe.
For the bear had seen them, and paused, grumbling and sniffing, to
discover if these new animals might not be worth his trouble as a meal.
* * * * *
Plenty of temper had that bear. Before the man was within thirty feet
of him he stopped the slow swaying of his massive head, emitted a
snarling roar, and charged. Polaris stood at the dip of a slope in the
snow, alert and watchful for his chance to leap and thrust.
As the avalanche of angry bear dashed down the incline its claws
slipped on an icy crusting, and it rolled, folding its head in almost
to its belly, like a huge snowball, scratching furiously at the snow
crust to stop itself and regain its footing.
Straight at the man it shot, and as it reached him he sprang aside.
The same mischance that had upset the animal now proved the undoing of
the man's well-aimed thrust. As he drew back his arm to strike, Polaris
felt his feet flying from under him.
By exercising all of his tigerish agility he prevented himself from
rolling right under the ponderous body of his antagonist. Backward he
threw himself, struck a softer spot in the snow crust, and disappeared
in it up to his shoulders.
Had Bruin stopped to consider his predicament, that would have been a
tight situation for Polaris; but the enraged mountain of flesh paid
no further attention to him. Instead he scrambled to his feet at the
foot of the slope, snarling more viciously than ever because of his
downfall, and charged on into the group of Sardanians.
Before they could realize what was happening, and that Polaris had
failed to wound or turn the animal, he was upon them. They scattered,
thrusting their spears as they leaped from the path of the monster.
One of them, Kard the Smith, was not so fortunate as the rest. He stood
directly in the path of the charge. As he leaped to one side a huge paw
whirled in the air and one of the curved talons caught in the slack of
his rough tunic, hurling him down as a mouse is spun from the claw of a
cat. Before his companions could return to his aid the bear was tearing
at the prostrate body of the smith.
As soon as he fell through the snow crust Polaris threw himself forward
on his face along the surface, seeking a spot that would allow him to
stand upright. In an instant he was on his feet and forward in the wake
of the furious bear. His spear had fallen from his hand when he broke
into the soft snow, and had glided away over the glary crust for many
feet. There was no time to regain it if he was to aid Kard. Plucking
the knife from his belt, he rushed in.
Seeming to sense the new danger, the bear whirled on its haunches, and,
holding the body of the Sardanian beneath it with one forepaw, struck
out madly at Polaris with the other.
Polaris evaded the sweep of the blow by the smallest margin. He had
thrown off his gloves, and he caught the long hair on the flail-like
paw with his left hand. As the bear drew in his paw to deliver another
buffet, the man came with it.
Never in all his bear fights had he come to grips with one of the
antarctic monarchs from the front in this wise; but there was no help
for it if he would save the smith. He was swept in against the wide
chest of the animal, and its terrible front paws were closed to crush
him as it raised one armed hind leg to rip him with its down-stroke,
and at the same time strove to bend its head down and tear with its
jaws.
Menaced by the triple attack, Polaris threw his left arm over his head
and jammed his elbow into the throat of the bear below the angle of
its jaw, thrusting upward with all the power of his body. At the same
instant, quick as a wrestler, he passed one leg over the rising hind
leg of the bear.
For the space of an eye flicker the two stood, statuesque, in the snow.
Then the man jerked back his shoulders, raised his right arm, and
buried the long knife in the white throat.
Twice he stabbed home, and, feeling the clutching forepaws slacken, let
himself go limp, slid from the embrace of the bear, and sprawled in
the snow alongside the smith. He seized Kard, and with him rolled from
under the toppling, roaring mass of the enemy, which floundered in the
snow.
It was the end for the bear, however. Tearing in agony at its wounded
throat, it reared again and fell backward, struggling terribly in the
release of life.
All had happened in a matter of seconds. Kard, snatched from the very
jaws of death, stood gaping at the dying bear, unhurt aside from a bad
scare. Beside him, Polaris, his white surcoat streaked with blood,
stooped and cleaned his knife in the snow. The other Sardanians trooped
back somewhat sheepishly, all of them eyeing Polaris with manifest
admiration--all save Morolas, whose face was flushed, and in whose eye
was an ugly glint of anger or annoyance.
"Methinks thou wert somewhat late, stranger," he growled, "and nearly
was Kard gathered to his fathers because of thy clumsiness."
In the face of the facts, the futility of his remark caused Polaris
to laugh aloud. "In second thought I left him to thee, prince," he
said, "and did but take up the matter again when I saw thee otherwise
occupied."
Morolas framed a hot retort, but thought better of it and swallowed
it unsaid. "Methinks thy laughter ill-timed," he muttered grimly to
himself. But Kard without a word seized the hand of Polaris, and bent
and kissed it. Morolas frowned the more.
Polaris recovered his spear. With thongs the five men dragged the huge
carcass of the bear back to where they had left the pony sledge, and
loaded it on the sledge.
* * * * *
One more bear they met that day, much smaller than the first. It was
dispatched easily by the party, who bore it down with their spears. In
that conflict the honors fell more to the share of Morolas, and that
seemed partially to restore his temper.
In Morolas dwelt a wild and unpleasant spirit, unbridled by the
discipline with which Helicon, the prince, controlled himself, and in
direct contrast to the sunny soul of his twin brother, Minos, known in
Sardanes as the "open-handed."
Presently they returned to the sledge, packed on it the carcass of the
second bear, and made ready for their return to the city.
Polaris laid aside his long spear and bent himself to the task of
making fast the bulky corpses of their quarry. Where there was work
afoot he was never backward. Indeed, in the long, weary years of their
lonely life, work and study were all that had kept wholesome the minds
and bodies of himself and his father.
While he bent to make fast the last knot the other Sardanians drew away
from the sledge. He heard a scuffling in the snow and a sharp cry from
Kard the Smith--"It shall not be, Morolas!" followed by a snap like a
breaking stick.
Between his left arm and his body a flash of light darted as the sun's
rays glittered on the ilium tip of a hurled spear, and the weapon was
buried in the side of the carcass which he had been making fast.
He whirled on his heel. Morolas stood with his body still bowed and
outstretched arm as he had cast the spear. Kard had sprung in between,
and it was his weapon with which he had struck that of the prince that
had sounded like a breaking shaft. He had spoiled the aim of Morolas,
and surely saved the life of Polaris.
Back of the prince stood the other four hunters with weapons poised.