Preparations for my first voyage. The elder Baron selects the port
from which I am to sail. Description of port No Man’s Port. How I
escaped its quicksands, Whirlpool and Thor’s Hammer. Becalmed on the
Southern Seas, I rescue my ship in a wonderful way. Land ho!
Something about a beautiful Island. I leave my ship and start for
the interior. How I fell in with some most extraordinary beings.
Description of them. They leave me to go and request permission of
their chief to present me at his court. How I thought myself
attacked by a band of gigantic beings. My strange mistake. They
prove to be the same beings I had met the day before. What had
caused the transformation. The land of the Wind Eaters. I am
conducted to the court of Ztwish-Ztwish. More about the curious
people. The Chief’s affection for me. The bursting of the babies.
Go-Whizz becomes my enemy. I grow thin. Queen Phew-yoo wants me to
marry Princess Pouf-fâh. To regain my flesh I teach the Wind Eaters
to catch fish. Terrible accident resulting from a fire I had
kindled. Go-Whizz demands my death. Ztwish-Ztwish refuses. The
furious brawler tries to slay the Chief and is himself slain, by
Ztwish-Ztwish. To avoid the marriage with Pouf-fâh, I send Bulger
back to the ship, and then escape in the night. Too weak to bear the
fatigue, I am overtaken. Enmeshed in the nets of the Wind Eaters and
nearly beaten to death. Bulger rescues me. The relief party from my
ship come up with me. I reach the coast, and after a short rest,
sail for home.
[Illustration: BULGER HELPS ME WITH MY PACKING.]
I threw myself now heart and soul into the task of making ready for my
first voyage.
Bulger was not slow to understand what all the hurry-skurry meant.
He was delighted at the prospect of a trip to distant lands where life
had less monotony about it. By the hour he would sit and watch me at my
labors and, from time to time, to please him, I pointed out articles
lying here and there about the room and bade him fetch them, which he
invariably did, with many manifestations of pleasure at being permitted
to help his little master.
In fact, everybody lent a hand most kindly, so that, to my great
satisfaction, I was left more time for the study of navigation.
My poor mother, the gracious baroness, would not permit anyone else to
mark my clothing. With her own slender, white fingers she worked the
crest and initials of my wardrobe.
There was a matter which I turned over in my thoughts for several days,
to wit: What national garb I should adopt.
After long and mature deliberation I resolved to attire myself in
Oriental dress. I did so for several reasons. It had been a favorite
garb of mine.
Its picturesque grace appealed to my love of the beautiful, while on the
other hand, its ease and lightness made it very agreeable to one of
extreme suppleness of limb and elasticity of step. While the old manor
house was being literally turned topsy-turvy and everybody, from cook to
chambermaid, set by the ears, the elder baron was by no means idle. He
took good care, among other things, that I was well provided with
wholesome reading matter, and brought me several books of maxims,
precepts, reflections, thoughts and studies, which he requested me to
thrust into the empty corners of my chests, “for,” said he, and that,
too, with a great show of reason, “thou wilt have many idle hours on thy
hands in calm weather. It behooves thee to feed thy mind lest its
wonderful development be checked and thou become as an ordinary child,
with no thoughts above games and picture books.” My poor mother, the
gracious baroness, added to this stock of good literature by presenting
me with a small volume entitled: “The Straight Road to Good Health; or,
Everybody His Own Doctor.” As to my medicine chest, I gave that my
personal supervision, for I was always skilled in the art of reading all
kinds of symptoms and was gifted with the rare faculty of knowing almost
instinctively what remedy to give for a certain ailment, without first
experimenting upon the patient by trying one thing after another, as is
the custom with most people who pretend to heal sickness.
[Illustration: TRUE PORTRAITS OF BULGER AND ME; I AS I APPEARED IN MY
ORIENTAL DRESS.]
Everything was going well now, and I was in the best of spirits, when
the elder baron came to me with a proposal which, for some reason, I can
hardly tell why, displeased me, although it would seem that it ought to
have had the opposite effect. He proposed to precede me, by a week or
ten days, to the North Sea, in some port of which I intended to purchase
and fit out a swift, staunch vessel, purchase the vessel himself, give
his personal attention to fitting her out and shipping a crew of picked
men.
What could I do?
If I refused his offer, it would have been tantamount to a confession of
distrust on my part.
Can he have in mind any project to thwart my scheme?
O, perish the thought!
But I must confess that I did not accept his proffered services without
serious misgivings.
This sudden anxiety on the part of the elder baron to hurry my
departure, after having opposed it so long and so vigorously, made me a
little uneasy in my mind.
Before setting out for the North Sea to purchase a ship for me, the
elder baron entered my apartment, and spoke as follows:
“Pardon me, little baron, for interrupting thy labors, for I perceive
that thou art deep in the study of navigation.”
“Speak, Baron,” said I, looking up, with a mischievous smile, “that
right belongs to thee.”
“I have a last request to make,” he continued, in his usual calm manner,
“nor is it a matter of very great importance. Rather is it a whim, more
than aught else. Thou knowest from my lips, and from the perusal of our
family chronicles, that we were in ancient time very large land owners
on the coast of the North Sea. We controlled several ports, were
extensively engaged in trade, sending out at least a score of ships in a
twelvemonth. One of the ports of our domain was a famous one, famous for
the extraordinary character of its inlet and outlet currents, channel,
etc. It was said of this port that it was more dangerous than the open
sea, that vessels were really safer out of it than in it. I know not how
much of truth may be in all this, but I do know that one man, an
ancestor of ours, not only sailed into it, but safely out again, for
thou must know that the channel by which a vessel gained admission to
this port could not be used to leave it again, as the irresistible
current always flowed the one way, namely, from the sea into this
mysterious basin. To leave it, the bold mariner must trust his bark to
another channel, and therein lurked the danger.
“It would gratify me greatly, little baron, if thou couldst prove to the
world that, no matter how difficult, other captains once found, and now
find it, to sail out of this port, yet to thee it offered no
insurmountable obstacles, and therefore, am I come to ask thee to set
sail from this port!”
“It is called?” I asked carelessly, as I turned to a chart of the North
Sea.
“Port No Man’s Port,” replied the baron.
“I like its name,” said I. “Order my ship to await me there!”
The elder baron arose, and bending his body with stately grace,
withdrew. I accompanied him to the door and dismissed him with most
respectful obeisance.
“Port No Man’s Port,” I answered. “Ah, here is the chart!” The
descriptive text reads as follows:
“Abandoned for many years; ingress easy; egress so dangerous as to mean
fatal injury, if not destruction, to sailing craft; outer channel
blocked by a fearful whirlpool and swinging rock called “Thor’s Hammer;”
inner basin extremely dangerous from constantly shifting sands; closed
by order of the Royal Ministry of Commerce and Marine.” Upon finishing
the reading of these words I sprang up and began to pace the floor,
wildly and half unconsciously.
The blood rushed in upon my brain. I was obliged to halt and cling to
the back of a tall oak chair, or I should have staggered and fallen to
the ground.
Bulger was greatly alarmed and sent up a suppressed howl of grief. I
spoke to him as calmly as I could to comfort him.
After a few moments the vertigo passed off and my mind cleared up
completely.
“Nay, it is impossible,” I whispered, “the elder baron could not be
guilty of bad faith to me! Away with such a thought! He errs through
thoughtlessness and lack of experience. He little knows the terribly
dangerous character of the task he is setting me. To him, the talks of
shipwreck and death within Port No Man’s Port are but the legends of
old-time sailor-life. He has not the faintest suspicion that his
request, so lightly made, exposes his only child, son and heir to a
princely fortune and honored name, either to be engulfed by these
shifting sands, sucked down to destruction by this fearful whirlpool, or
crushed by a blow from Thor’s Hammer.
“And yet why murmur?
“It is too late to protest. Already the elder baron has proclaimed to
the world the, to him proud piece of news, that his son was about to
renew the old-time glories of his family! I must do one of two things:
Face these dangers like a man of cool, calm courage, or condemn myself
to a life of dull and listless activity, the magnate of a province and
not the hero of two worlds!
“No! the die is cast!
“I have said it and it is as good as done!
“My ship sails from Port No Man’s Port, or this little body feeds its
fish that day!”
Doubtless my eyes brightened, and my cheeks took on a glow of crimson
hue, for Bulger, who had been listening to my soliloquy with a most
pained expression on his face, as he vainly tried to get at the meaning
of my words, now broke out into a very lively succession of barks,
bounding and springing about the room in the wildest merriment. He knew
only too well that some terrible struggle had been going on in my mind.
Now he realized that all was well. Faithful creature, if he could only
tell his love, how he would put all human lovers to blush!
As the hour drew near for me to bid adieu to the baronial hall, that
good lady, the gracious baroness, my mother, suddenly thought of a
thousand and one things which she deemed of the very greatest importance
to me. She warned me that I was not to sleep in a draught; not to
partake of freshly-baked bread; not to drink cold water while
overheated; not to cut my finger nails too short; not to sleep with my
mouth open; not to wear my underclothing longer than one week; not to
neglect to brush my teeth; not to fail to have my hair cut with the new
moon; not to strain my eyes reading by a poor light not to swallow my
food without thoroughly chewing it; not to laugh while I had food in my
mouth; not to attempt to stop a sneeze; not to neglect to pare my corns;
not to pick my teeth with a metal point; not to examine the end of my
nose without a looking-glass; not to eat meat without pepper, or
vegetables without salt; not to exert myself after a hearty meal; not to
stand upon my leg while it was asleep; not to walk so fast as to get a
pain in my side; not to go to sleep until I had first rested on my right
side; not to fail to take a pill if I saw flashes in the dark; not to
neglect to tie a stocking around my neck in case my throat felt sore,
etc., etc., etc. When the moment came to take leave of the gracious
baroness, my good mother, I was deeply moved. All the servants and
retainers, from indoors and out, filed in front of me, kissed my hand
and showered blessings on me.
I may safely say that the only being present not moved to tears was
Bulger. He was so anxious to get under way that he passed an hour or so
racing from the manor house to the carriage and back again in a piteous
endeavor to get the procession started.
Start we did, at last.
A hundred hands waved us a fond farewell.
The stately trees that shut in the baronial hall swayed solemnly. I was
glad when we rolled out of the court yard for I needed rest and quiet.
My nerves had been on such a stretch for the past month that a change of
scene brought me balm and relaxation.
My journey to the North Sea was quiet and uneventful.
I found my ship safely anchored in Port No Man’s Port, and the elder
baron there in charge of her. He introduced me to the sailing-master,
pressed me in his own loving arms, and with a gracious smile and stately
wave of the hand, seated himself in the family coach. His only adieu
was:
“My son, thy wisdom comes to thee by inheritance. Thou couldst not have
acquired it. Therefore, make a noble use of so noble a gift. Farewell!”
I bent my head in silence. The carriage rolled away. I stood alone. Nay,
a true and loving friend was there. He looked up with his large,
lustrous eyes, as if to say:
“Don’t be sad, little master. No matter who goes, I’ll stay by thee
forever!”
Turning to my sailing-master, I ordered the ship’s launch to be manned,
and began at once a survey of the mysterious port in which my ship lay
anchored.
I found it to be a roomy basin, shut in by a rock-bound shore. In places
the waters slept beneath black and glassy surfaces; in others, all was
movement and commotion. Its waves came boiling and bubbling against the
launch with swirling masses of white sand, shifting hither and thither,
as if condemned to perpetual unrest.
The fact that my men, while fishing in different parts of the bay, often
caught deep-sea fish, proved to me that Port No Man’s Port was traversed
by a channel from four to six fathoms in depth.
The only difficulty would be to fix the boundaries of this constantly
shifting path long enough to sail across the basin.
I next turned my attention to the whirlpool. It marked the junction of
the outer channel with the basin of Port No Man’s Port.
Having purchased a number of condemned hulks for the purpose of testing
the strength and fury of the whirlpool, I caused a strong hawser to be
rigged to a capstan on shore, and was in this way enabled to let the
launch approach within a ship’s length of the whirlpool with perfect
safety. In truth, it was, when roused to the full measure of its fury by
the intrusion of any large floating body, a sight to strike terror to
the stoutest heart!
With a deep booming and rumble, its waters rose in tumultuous commotion,
boiling, bubbling, seething, till snow-white foam covered the pool like
a mantle of bleached linen, then lifting the intruder, which in this
case was one of the hulks that I had ordered to be launched upon them,
these angered waters whirled it completely around. In an instant, as if
exhausted by this tremendous effort, a mysterious calm sank upon the
pool. The foam-sheet, broken in shreds, danced gently on the rippling
bosom of the waters. All was peace, save that the hulk still lay
trembling like an affrighted being in the lap of this resting monster!
For, look! It is aroused again. Faster and faster it whirls its prey.
Deeper and deeper its now wide-opened jaws draw down the ill-fated hulk!
A terrible roar tells that the end is near!
’Tis gone!
Ay, but wait! It will give up its prey again!
Even now bits of plank float seaward, dancing on the rushing waters.
Soon the crumpled, broken, crushed remnants of that strong hulk will
follow.
This watery monster doth not feed upon what he swallows! He destroys for
the mere love of destruction. Night had come now. I returned to my ship.
The shifting sands and the whirlpool had uncovered their horrors. But I
feared them no more! Like the horse-tamer when he has at last succeeded
in thrusting the steel bit between the champing and gnashing teeth of
the wild young steed, I now felt that they were conquered.
“And now for Thor’s Hammer!” was my cry, as I sat down beside Bulger for
a brief moment’s reflection.
The first streak of gray light in the east found me on deck.
“Thor’s Hammer” was a huge shaft of black, flinty rock, projecting about
twenty feet out of the water and ending in a hammer-shaped head. It
guarded the channel where it reached the sea, standing exactly in the
middle, thus forcing a vessel to pass on one side or the other of it.
Beneath the waters, this dread sentinel must have ended in a gigantic
ball, which, in the flight of time had worn a socket for itself in the
bed rock of the channel; for it swung loose and free, moved by every
powerful billow from side to side, threatening swift destruction to any
passing craft.
To speak frankly, the sight of this terrible engine of destruction
appalled me! How shall I escape the vigilance of this gigantic sentinel,
who knows no sleep, no rest, whose blows fall with like fury on friend
or foe? How shall I lull him to repose for a few brief moments?
Determined to study closely the strength, the rapidity, and the
character of the blows struck by “Thor’s Hammer,” I caused several huge
structures of plank and timber to be erected near the position of this
mighty sentinel of rock. One after the other I ordered them to be thrown
into the channel.
At first, I was fairly paralyzed upon discovering that even the slight
vortex caused by the drifting by of one of these wooden structures set
the swinging rock in violent vibration and always towards the passing
object.
Judging from the effect of Thor’s Hammer upon these floating masses of
plank and timber, a single blow would suffice to crush the very life out
of my ship in spite of her unusual staunchness.
I stood transfixed with dread forebodings. I could feel the beads of
perspiration break from my forehead and trickle down my cheeks. Must I
give up and return home, broken in spirits, humiliated, the butt of
ridicule, the target of village wit, the subject of mirth and laughter
in every peasant’s cottage?
Oh, no! It can not, it must not be!
Like a flash of lightning, a thought flamed across the dark horizon of
my mind.
Am I not dreaming? Was it really so?
One of the wooden structures still remained. Controlling my emotion with
great difficulty, I ordered it thrown into the channel and took up a
favorable position to watch once again the wrath of the towering
sentinel! In a few moments “Thor’s Hammer” felt the coming of the craft
and bent itself in impotent rage beating the air with blows which fell
faster and faster! Ay, I was right! When once Thor’s Hammer had begun
its labor of death and ruin, it turned not from its task, so long as
there remained any object for it to spend its fury upon!
Nor was there any escape for the ill-fated craft until it had been
pounded into flinders! Hanging over it, blow followed blow with fearful
clash and clamor. Not until the poor remnant had drifted seaward, did
that black and flinty shaft cease its furious swinging.
Turning to my sailing-master, who stood with his wondering eyes fixed
full upon me, I called out in a calm and careless tone: “In three days,
skipper, if the weather is clear, we leave Port No Man’s Port!”
A lump rose up in his throat, but he gulped it down, and cried out
merrily:
“Ay, ay, sir.”
And what three busy days they were, too! My men were not long in
catching something of the indomitable spirit of their new commander. I
worked them hard, but I fed them well, served out grog with a liberal,
but wise hand, and saw that all their wants were satisfied. In turn,
their wonderment became admiration, and their admiration affection.
The first day all the hands that could be spared were set to work making
fishing lines, with a good, stout hook at one end and a cork float at
the other. The lines were cut about three fathoms in length, and the
floats were painted a bright crimson. I then gave orders to rig three
jury-masts, one midships, and one fore and aft.
My men set to work with a will, but I caught them several times in the
act of tapping their foreheads and exchanging significant glances. But
if this last order threw them into a brown study, my next had the effect
of a bombshell exploding in their midst.
Sailing-master and all, they stood staring at me as if they were only
waiting for me to annihilate them.
My order was to rig a steering gear under the figure-head. A coasting
vessel, which I had sent for, now came sailing leisurely into Port No
Man’s Port. I directed the skipper to pay her crew three months’ extra
wages, and discharge them.
This done, my men were ordered to lash the coaster on our starboard
side.
I verily believe that my whole plan, so carefully studied out, was at
this point only saved from utter failure by the wisdom of my faithful
Bulger.
The coaster had no sooner been lashed to our side than he sprang lightly
over the railing, and began to amuse himself by gamboling up and down
the clear deck. Suddenly he paused near one of the hatches and broke out
into a most furious barking. I called to one of my officers to look
sharp and see what the matter was. He reported in a few moments that one
of the discharged seamen had been found concealed in the hold. When I
threatened to put him in irons, he confessed that his design had been to
cut the coaster loose as soon as our ship had drawn near to the
whirlpool.
It was a narrow escape.
Dear, faithful Bulger, how much we owe thee for that discovery!
The third day dawned bright and fair.
The wind was most favorable, blowing strong off shore.
At the first glimmer of light, my men were astir and on the lookout for
my appearance.
They greeted Bulger and me with three hearty cheers.
They had made up their minds that what I didn’t know, Bulger did! At
last all was ready!
I nodded to the sailing-master, and in a moment or so the capstan began
to revolve, and the merry “Yo, heave O!” of the men told me that the
anchor had been started. Hundreds of the lines and floats, well-baited,
were now cast overboard. Standing on the taffrail, glass in hand, I
watched them closely and anxiously.
Imagine my joy at seeing several of these crimson floats disappear like
a flash, rise again, and again vanish for an instant.
“The first point is gained,” I cried out. “I have found the channel!”
Passing word quickly to the sailing-master who was in charge of the
steering gear, my good vessel moved slowly out of Port No Man’s Port,
stern first. Again and again the baited lines with their crimson floats
were thrown overboard. The deep water fish that swarmed the
ever-shifting channel kept steadily at work. As our ship advanced, they
tugged at the lines and thus kept the tortuous course plainly marked
out. Glass in hand, I watched the successful working of this part of my
plan, with tingling veins and a bounding heart. A loud huzza from my men
tell me that we have cleared the shifting sands. Ay, true it is! We have
crossed the basin of Port No Man’s Port! Its dreaded quicksands swirl
and roll in vain. It was not fated that they should engulf the Little
Baron’s ship!
But see! The channel narrows! The waters grow black, and troubled. And
hark!
Didn’t you hear that dull roar? I spring down from the taffrail! I pass
among my men and drop here and there a word of encouragement. My perfect
calmness impresses them. No merry “ay, ay, Sir!” goes up, but I see a
response in their faces. It is: “We trust you little captain, speak!”
The dull roar grows louder and louder.
The rapids catch us up and bear us along like chips on the foaming tide
of a mountain stream. Our staunch vessel rocks like a toy boat. The
coaster lashed to one side creaks and groans in its wild efforts to
break away.
Calling Bulger to me I pass the line around him and lash him firmly to
the main-mast, for I was fearful lest a sudden lurch might hurl him
overboard. On, on, we speed through the frightened waters. The roar is
deafening. I glance at my seamen. Their bronzed faces are blanched. They
cling to the shrouds and stays. Their eyes are riveted upon me.
Look! the fearful whirlpool is dead ahead of us. It opens its
foam-flecked jaws like some terrible monster. We leap into its very
mouth. Are we lost? How can it be otherwise? As if our staunch vessel
were a nutshell, the swirling, raging, whirling, battling, boiling
waiters catch her up in their encircling arms, lift her high above the
sea level, turn her completely around and drop her with such terrific
force that great walls of water rise on all sides and threaten to engulf
the frail wooden thing. But most wondrous change; mark how she floats
upon a glassy pool! The foam dances in the sunlight on the rippling
waves. All is peace where but a moment before nature raged with demoniac
fury. Quick as thought I leap into the mizzen shrouds: “Cut away the
jury-masts!” They fall overboard with a crash. My men work with a mad
earnestness. They know too well that every instant may be their last.
Our mainsail already hoisted is sheeted home without a word or a cry. We
are too near death to sing! See! See! The wind fills the great sail! We
move. The waters seem to scent our escape. They are awaking to new fury.
A deep rumble from the very bowels of the earth calls upon them to
arouse from their lethargy.
They reach out for us.
Too late! too late!
We sweep out of their reach. We are saved! We are saved! A shout goes up
from two score throats, from which Fear now takes her hand!
Look back! As if robbed of its prey, the whirlpool awakes with redoubled
fury.
A hundred arm-like streams of water gush forth and pour around our good
ship in vain effort to draw her back into that terrible vortex.
We are drenched with clouds of spray and mist, as we slowly but steadily
keep on our course. Would that we were safe upon the swelling tide of
the open sea, for there is still another danger to be met.
Our channel suddenly narrows. I could toss a biscuit to the rocky wall,
which shuts us in on both sides.
Again a deep silence falls upon ship and crew, broken only by a strange
sound of rushing waters, bursting out and dying away as regularly as the
swing of a pendulum. ’Tis Thor’s Hammer, beating the frightened waters
into foam, as it sways from side to side.
In spite of my effort to appear calm, I can feel my heart beat faster.
A cold chill benumbs my hands. A glance ahead startles me like a blow
from an unseen hand. There, with the morning sun resting on its
hammer-shaped crest, swings that dreaded shaft of flinty rock,
threatening instant destruction to any ship bold enough to attempt to
pass it.
In accordance with my orders, every sail on the coaster had been set,
and her helm lashed, so as to pass to the right of Thor’s Hammer.
“Courage, men!” I cried. “Stand by, all! Cut away the lashings! Cast off
the tender!”
Then waving my hand to the skipper, our mainsail came down with a run.
Everything worked like a charm. Our ship slowed up, while the coaster
shot ahead to her destruction. See, how gallantly the doomed craft
speeds on her way; for the breeze had freshened, and several gay
streamers and flags, which my men had run up to the topmast, fluttered
in the crisp morning air.
There! Did you not hear that crash?
Thor’s Hammer has struck her!
Blow follows blow!
Crash! Crash! Crash!
Now is our time, or never!
I was not caught napping. The moment we were clear of the coaster, I had
ordered sails enough to be set to hold our ship steady on her course.
Already we drew near to Thor’s Hammer, which is fast battering the
coaster to a shapeless mass. The sea is filled with bits of plank and
broken timber. Thor’s Hammer bends to its dread work of destruction,
unmindful of our presence.
What could withstand its terrible fury?
Those sturdy timbers yield like twigs.
Another minute, and we have the monster and his victim in our wake!
Now, now, we’re passing him! Our sails tremble from the very force of
his breath! Our deck is strewn with splinters! The roar and crash are
deafening. Thor’s Hammer bends for one last blow at the ribs and keel of
its broken and disjointed victim!
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Our good ship dips to the deep roll of the ocean’s breast! We are on the
open sea! Port No Man’s Port, farewell!
As my men looked back at the rocky gateway and the grim sentinel of Port
No Man’s Port, they tossed their caps into the air and sent up cheer
after cheer.
Bulger bounded about the deck, doing his best by most vigorous barking,
to testify his admiration for his little master.
The sailing-master drew near; and, touching his cap and scratching the
deck with the toe of his shoe, cried out gayly:
“Bravo! little Baron. That was splendidly done! I was sure we should
never get through the shifting sands. And when they were passed, I was
ready to swear the whirlpool would make short work of us. But when we
sailed safely out of that, I drew near the tail rail ready to jump
overboard, for I felt that nothing could save us from a blow from Thor’s
Hammer. I’ve grown wrinkled and gray facing the storms of Neptune’s
domain, but I never felt I had a master until now.”
I nodded and smiled, and quickly turned the conversation to some other
topic.
“By the way, skipper,” said I, “remember, the very moment we clear the
English Channel, turn her head southward!”
“Ay! ay! little Baron!” was the reply. Calling Bulger to me I now went
below. I wanted to be alone. The fact of the matter is, I needed rest.
The terrible strain on my nerves caused by the hopes and fears of the
past few days, began to tell upon me.
Throwing myself upon a canopy, I fell into a deep sleep from which I was
awakened by Bulger’s whining and crying.
The sailing-master was anxiously feeling my pulse.
I had slept three days and three nights. All this time Bulger had
absolutely refused to leave my side or partake of food, although the
skipper had tempted him with the daintiest morsels.
His joys knew no bounds as I sprang up and shook myself into shape.
“Where are we, master?” I cried.
“On the broad Atlantic, headed dead south, little Baron!” was the
answer.
“Good! send me a rasher of bacon and some hard-tack. The Atlantic breeze
has given me an appetite and, skipper,” I added, “a little broiled fowl
for Bulger.”
“And now, for the land of warmth and sunshine!” I murmured, “now for the
home of the orange and the palm! Cold winds like me not, I am a child of
the tropics, born in a land where nature works and man plays. No chill
blast ever whistled its sad tune over my cradle! Let those who will,
spend one-half their lives waiting for mother Earth to wake from her
Winter sleep! Freeze the body and you freeze the brain. I am of those
who love flowers better than snowflakes. Glorious South land! I greet
thee, thy child comes again to thy arms, oh, take him up kindly and
lovingly!”
* * * * *
Southward, ever southward my good ship sped along. By day I paced the
deck to watch the dolphins at play or to observe Bulger’s amazement when
a stray flying fish fell fluttering on deck; by night, with my eyes
fixed upon the blazing Southern Cross, I longed for the time to come
when I should set foot upon some beautiful strand decked out with coral
branch and shells of pearl, in whose limpid waters golden fish nestle
mid sea plants of not less brilliant hue.
It was now three weeks since the last murmur of Thor’s Hammer had fallen
on our ears.
My chronometer marked high noon. Every sail was set and our good ship
careened as gracefully as a swallow that bent in its flight to touch the
cool waters of some glassy lake. All of a sudden the wind fell, our ship
stood still on the motionless sea, my pennant hung like a string. There
was not air enough to lift the smoke from our galley fire. A strange
mysterious stillness weighed upon the ship and sea. I knew too well what
it betokened. One of those dreaded calms, more feared by the seamen that
the buffeting gale, had overtaken us.
Our ship stood like one moored to a marble wharf!
And as the thought flashed across my mind that days, ay even weeks might
pass ere the winds would lift themselves again to bear us on our way, a
feeling of utter listlessness came over me. It required a great exertion
for me to throw it off.
I dared not let my men see aught of discouragement in my face.
And yet, it was a hard task. Had I not been made of stern stuff, I would
have wept to see my progress stayed at the very moment victory was
almost within my grasp.
Again, as was the case, when the terrors of Port No Man’s Port rose,
like demons of malignant might, to shut me forever in that
rock-encircled basin, did my thoughts revert to home—to the elder baron
and his gracious consort, my dear mother; to the servants and retainers
of the baronial hall; to the villagers and tenantry. How, oh how should
I be able to face them all, if I were forced to return home with the
humiliating confession that my voyage had been a failure?
Bulger was the first to catch a glimpse of the shadow on my brow. He
turned his dark lustrous eyes full upon me so pleadingly as if to say:
“Oh, little master, what aileth thee? May I not do aught to drive the
dark melancholy from thy face? Thou knowest how I love thee. Teach me to
help thee. My life is thine. Thy grief weighs like lead on my heart.
Speak to me little master!” Tenderly and lovingly I stroked his head,
and spoke in softest tones to him. He was rejoiced, but still he sat and
watched me, for it was impossible to deceive him by feigning to be
lighthearted and unconcerned.
The second week found us lying like a log in a millpond, our sails
unvisited by the faintest breath of air; the sea sunken into a sleep
that seemed like death. Despair sat on the faces of my men. “Rouse thee,
little baron!” I murmured to myself as I paced my cabin floor, “where is
thy boasted cunning? Where is thy vaunted wisdom? Nevermore say that
thou art a man of projects, quick to devise, and quick to perform! Thou
hast lost thy hold on the spoke of fortune’s wheel!”
“Thinkest thou so?” cried I in answer to my own thoughts.
“Follow me, we shall see!” With a bound I cleared the gang way. The
sailing-master lay asleep on the deck. The men in groups, here and
there, looked the very picture of despair. Rousing the skipper with a
vigorous tug at his belt, aided by Bulger’s frantic outburst of barking,
I called out:
“Avast! there, skipper. Asleep from overwork? Pipe all hands on deck!”
The men came up in lively fashion, greatly amused by my cut at the
sailing-master, who stood rubbing his eyes, half dazed by my sudden
outburst. “Send me the ships carpenter!” I continued; and catching up a
piece of chalk I drew the plan of a large box or chest, nearly as long
as our ship’s breadth of beam, and gave the carpenter directions to
build it of the strongest planks to be had on board. He and his
assistants were soon at work.
Turning then to the cook I ordered him to kill the pigs and fowls we had
shipped for our own supply of fresh meat, bidding him to be careful and
not lose a drop of the blood.
These orders fairly drove my men wild with curiosity.
The sailing-master drew near and attempted to get some explanation from
me but in vain. I was too deep in thought to speak.
The long box was ready in a few hours. Word now went up that I was about
to abandon the ship and strive to reach land by rowing, and that this
long box was to hold the provisions.
The sailing-master again fixed his gaze inquiringly upon me. I pretended
not to notice his beseeching looks. The cook by this time had the fresh
meat in readiness. Under my directions it was all transferred to the
long chest, the blood poured over it, and the box securely closed with a
heavy plate-glass lid, made up of several pieces shipped for the purpose
of restoring broken lights. By this time the men had grown so excited
over this mysterious box and its still more mysterious contents, that I
was obliged to order them to fall back so that the carpenter and his
assistants might go on with their work without interruption.
The next step was to weight the long chest with lead and to attach
hoisting tackle to each end by strong iron rings. When all was ready I
called out to my men to stand by and lower it over the stern rail.
Stationed so that I could watch the lowering of the long box, I was
careful to sink it about three feet under water and then lash it firmly
to the ship’s stern. I had scarcely given the word to lower away on all
the sails when the ship began to move! The effect on my men was
indescribable. Some turned pale and stood as if transfixed with fear.
Others laughed in a wild maniac-like way. Others, who had their wits
about them, rushed to the stern taffrail to fathom the mystery.
A glance was enough!
It was a simple thing after all.
Gradually the others recovered their reason, and hastened to join their
companions and gaze down into the waters where I had lashed the long
box, with its glass lid and strange contents. Meanwhile our good ship
moved faster and faster through the sluggish, listless waters. A ringing
cheer, three times repeated, went up when the mystery was fully solved.
Mystery?
Hear then what this mystery consisted of!
In the first days of this dead calm, which settled like a terrible
blanket spread over us by the hands of some unseen monster, to check our
advance, I had noticed that the waters swarmed with sharks of
extraordinary length; that these fierce demons of the deep hung about
our vessel in shoals of countless numbers, attracted by the garbage
thrown overboard, and, doubtless, too, by the odor of the many living
beings on board the ship.
When, at times, a particularly large supply of garbage fell into the
water, so fierce was the onslaught of these ravenous monsters, that they
actually jarred the ship as they struck against its sides or stern,
locked together like advancing cohorts of trained soldiery.
Upon this hint I acted. If, as I reasoned, I can only control this now
wild force, why may I not make use of it to rescue my ship from a worse
danger than raging storm? For far better would it be to face the howling
blast and foam-crested wave than to perish from thirst, chained to the
open sea by this breathless calm.
Now, however, all was changed.
On, on, our good ship went, with ever-increasing speed, gliding
noiselessly and swiftly through the mirror-like waters. My device worked
far better than I had dared to dream, for, as the fresh blood began to
trickle through the crevices of the long box, the ravenous sea monsters
were almost maddened by its smell and taste. The largest and fiercest
pressed forward in serried ranks, tossing their smaller companions high
in the air, as they took up their places with wild and eager search for
prey which lured them on, ever so near them, and still ever beyond their
reach.
No sooner did the foremost ranks of this army of myrmidons of the deep
show signs of fatigue than long lines of fresh and eager recruits darted
forward, hurling their exhausted fellows right and left, like bits of
cork, and took up the task of following the ever-retreating prey, which,
although giving out its life blood, and plainly visible to them, yet
seemed to know no tiring, and sped onward, and ever onward before the
wild, tumultuous attack of their pushing, plunging cohorts!
The moon now shone like a plate of burnished silver on the blue walls of
heaven, and the deep silence of the sleeping waters was broken by the
splash of those mighty bodies, glistening in her light, as they toiled
and struggled to urge our vessel on its way.
I could not sleep.
Wrapped in a woolen cloak, to shield me from the insidious dews of the
tropics, I threw myself on deck, with Bulger’s head pillowed on my lap.
Something whispered to me that if those hunger-stricken marauders of the
deep would only keep to their task till the morning sun streaked the
east, my cheek would feel the breath of coming winds.
And so it turned out. With the first glimmer of daylight I caught sight
of a ripple on the lake-like bosom of the ocean. At that very moment,
too, I noticed that our ship was slowing up. I sprang up on the
taffrail. Lo! our allies had abandoned us. Not a single follower of that
riotous camp was in sight! Ah, little did they dream how they had saved
ship and crew! How limitless is man’s selfishness! The beasts of the
field, the monsters of the deep must minister to his pleasure, obey his
commands. I had pointed out the ripple in the water and when the first
sturdy breath of wind reached us we were in readiness to receive it.
Every sail was set.
My heart leaped with joy as our ship drew up to the wind, obeying her
helm like a thing of life!
And that was the way I saved my ship and crew from a worse danger than
storm-lashed billows. From this time on, all went well. Scarcely a week
had gone by when I was startled by a cry which sounded sweeter to my
ears than voice of monarch to courtier.
“Land ho! Dead ahead!”
Seizing my glass I sprang up into the main-shrouds, and turned my gaze
in the direction indicated. Ay, true it was! There it lay before us,
rising from the ocean with gentle slope, its heights crowned with trees
of many-colored foliage, its shores ending in long stretches of
snow-white beach.
Above the unknown land hung a purple mist of a deep rich tint, like the
cheek of a ripe plum. As we drew near a landlocked harbor seemed to
welcome us. Not a sound or sign of life, however, came to break the deep
repose which enveloped the bay and shore.
Slowly and in stately bearing our good ship sailed into the harbor and
cast anchor. The radiant beauty of the land now burst upon me. Ten
thousand shells of pearly tints and hues glistened on the white sands,
while in the limpid waters, sea-flowers and foliage of deepest crimson
swayed gently with the tide. Up the sloping banks nature seemed to be
holding high carnival. No shrub or bush or tree was content to wear
simple green. Each waved some blossom of richest radiance in the soft
and balmy air. Here and there, a brooklet came tumbling down the
hillside, rippling, purling and splashing over the moss-grown rocks in
its bed. The air was heavy with the fragrance of this vast garden so
beautiful and yet so silent and deserted.
The next day, leaving my sailing-master in command, I set out on a
tramp, accompanied solely by my faithful Bulger. My idea was to see if
this island, for such I thought it to be, contained anything quaint and
curious. The further I advanced into the interior of this fair land of
bright flowers, purling brooks, clear skies and perfumed air, the more
was I astonished to find that neither vine, shrub, brush, nor tree bore
any berry or fruit to feed upon; and though it was just such a land of
brooks, flowers and balmy air as some dweller of the far-away North
might dream about; yet was it untrodden by the foot of man, for, rare
indeed is it that the people of the tropics are willing to prepare any
other food for themselves than that which nature spreads before them.
I now began to be thankful that I had supplied myself plentifully with
dried fruits before leaving my ship to set out for a tour of the island,
for such it seemed to me to be.
At this moment Bulger halted, and raising his nose in the air, sniffed
hard and long, and then fixed his dark eyes on me as much as to say:
“Take care, little master, some sort of living creatures are
approaching!” I had hardly time to draw one of my pistols and give a
hasty glance at its priming when with strange cries and stranger
movements a dozen or more beings of the human species sprang out of the
thicket with noiseless steps, and surrounded us. I raised the fire-arm,
which I held grasped in my right hand, ready to stop the advance of this
band of most curious creatures, by slaying their leader; for, judging by
the forbidding aspect of their faces and the terrible condition of their
bodies, apparently reduced by the dread pangs of hunger, to mere sacks
of skin hung on frames of bone, which methought rattled at every step
they took, I anticipated an instant attempt on their part to strike us
down and eat us.
[Illustration: THE LITTLE BARON MAKES FRIENDS WITH GO-WHIZZ AND HIS BAND
OF WIND EATERS.]
But I was very quickly reassured. First, by the fact that they bore no
weapons of any kind; and second, by the softness of their voices and the
walkingbeam-like motions of their bodies, which I interpreted to mean a
sort of welcome mingled with a desire to make friends with a human being
so different from themselves. Although I gave them to understand, or
tried to do so, by imitating the ducking motion of their heads, followed
by an attempt to equal their performance in making a large number of
very low bows, so graceful and easy that they would have done credit to
a French dancing master, that they had nothing to fear, yet they
continued to back away from me as fast as I advanced. Bulger was
somewhat surprised at my eagerness to make friends with such a
starved-out looking set of creatures and kept up a furious growling,
eying them suspiciously as they continued the walkingbeam motion of
their bodies all the while backing away from me.
I now found myself in front of a group of umbrella shaped bamboo huts
into which most of them had retreated. With no little difficulty was it
that I finally succeeded in coaxing them forth and convincing them that
my intentions were perfectly peaceful. For a quarter of an hour or more,
they circled about me in silent wonder, while I, on my part, gazed in
speechless astonishment at these extraordinary looking specimens of our
race. What they thought of me, you will learn as my story goes on, but
how shall I ever describe them to you so as to give you even a faint
idea of their wonderful appearance.
Imagine skeletons of rather small stature walking about, with collapsed
meal bags hung upon them, skin hanging down in folds everywhere,
flapping about at every step and you’ll have some faint conception of
the utterly ridiculous and grotesque look of these beings.
Almost every bone in their bodies was visible beneath this thin
covering. Their cheeks hung like two empty pouches on each side of their
faces, their noses stuck out like knife-blades. Deep wrinkles and
creases crossed and criss-crossed their faces, giving them a look of
terrible melancholy and utter wretchedness.
With their skeleton fingers ever and anon they grasped a fold of skin
and smoothed it out or pushed it elsewhere as one might a loosely
fitting garment. And yet, utterly wretched and melancholy as these
creatures seemed to be to the eye of the looker-on, their voices were
light and gay, and soft as flute notes. They chatted and laughed among
themselves, were full of mischief and pointed their pencil fingers at
different parts of Bulger’s and my body with evident enjoyment at the
sight of things so new and strange to them. Several times while gazing
upon these mournful and woebegone looking faces and at the same time
listening to their happy and childlike chatter, I broke out into a peal
of laughter which was not only very ill-bred, but which invariably had
the effect of causing them to fall back in disorder.
Gradually, however, they grew bolder, and by means of a kind of sign
language, gave me to understand that they desired to touch me. By
recourse to the same common language of mankind, I informed them that I
should be only too happy to gratify their requests and proceeded to lay
bare my breast and roll up the sleeves of my coat. They half repented of
their foolhardiness, and crowding together, interlocked their arms and
legs in such a manner that, to save my life, I couldn’t tell where one
commenced and the other ended.
But after a few moment’s coaxing, I succeeded in persuading them to
advance and lay their hands upon me.
Loud outcries followed exclamations of wonder and astonishment. As I
afterwards learned the words they uttered meant: “Lump!” “Chunk!”
“Stone!” “Hard!” “Solid!” At this moment, feeling a little bit hungry, I
opened my sack of dried fruit and thrust several pieces into my mouth.
And now came a still more furious outburst of wonder, mingled with cries
of horror and disgust. Again they retreated and tied themselves into a
knot.
Can it be, I asked myself, that these creatures never touch solid food?
Observing now that they were consulting among themselves as to what
course to pursue in regard to me, and being afraid that they might take
it into their heads to escape into the thicket, for they were as quick
in their movements as sprites and phantoms, I lost no time in making
them understand that I desired to be led into the presence of their King
or ruler.
This seemed to please them. But with many duckings of their heads, they
withdrew a short distance, and held a sort of pow-wow. After which, one
of their number, who seemed to be a sort of leader among them, and whose
name, as I afterwards learned, was Go-Whizz, advanced toward me with
numerous low-bendings of his body, and succeeded in informing me that
their chief lived at a great distance from where we were, and that it
would be necessary for me to remain here while they returned to their
ruler to ask his permission to conduct me to him.
I readily consented to such an arrangement.
Go-Whizz then led me to one of their dwellings, pointed out a bed of
nice dry rushes, and invited me to make myself comfortable until he
should come again to conduct me into the presence of their chief,
Ztwish-Ztwish, as was the name he bore.
Bulger and I didn’t wait for a second bidding, for we were tired to the
bone after our long tramp. With half a dozen or more bows, quite as low
as those made by Go-Whizz and his companions, I began to make ready for
a night’s rest.
For a moment or so, I stood watching the retreating figures of these
extraordinary people who, in single file, swiftly and noiselessly, like
so many phantoms, had flitted away from the spot. Then throwing myself
down on the bed of rushes, called out to Bulger to lie down by me. But
he was not so trustful as I, and after caressing my hands, took up his
position at the door of the dwelling, so as to save his little master
from any treachery on the part of the phantom people.
Day now went out suddenly, like a lamp quenched by the wind.
Bulger refused to sleep.
But I, sheltered from the night dews by this thickly-thatched roof, soon
fell into a deep and refreshing sleep, out of which Bulger found it
difficult to arouse me, for I have a faint recollection of having felt
him scratching at my arm for several moments, ere I could shake off the
fetters of sleep, which held me bound so tightly.
Sitting up hastily, I discovered that Bulger was patrolling the floor in
a state of great excitement, pausing ever and anon to sniff the morning
air, which, it was plain to be seen, brought him a warning of some kind.
Instantly it occurred to me that wild beasts were prowling about in the
neighborhood. I examined the priming of my fire-arms. Bulger looked well
pleased to see that I was thoroughly aroused as to the threatening
danger.
He now grew bolder, and springing out into the open air, made a circuit
of the dwelling, only to return with bristling hair, and growling out
his suspicion that all was not right.
His ever-increasing anxiety now began to cause me genuine alarm. I was
upon the very point of making a hasty retreat to my vessel, when the
thought flashed through my mind: “What! escape these swift-footed
phantoms? It were idle to attempt it!” So I determined to take my
chances, come what might.
The hut was strongly built and its roof would at least protect us from a
flight of poisoned arrow’s.
While I was occupied in making a hasty survey of the place, a loud
outcry from Bulger startled me. I gave one look and a shiver of fear
zigzagged through my body.
An armed band was full in sight.
With fierce shouts, deep and rumbling, they came nearer and nearer.
Their massive forms swayed from side to side. Their huge limbs, moved
like walking oaks. Their arms seemed the sturdy branches ending in hands
which, in the dim morning light, took the shape of gnarled and knotted
knobs; terrific strength was shadowed forth by their broad and heavy
shoulders. One blow from a hand of such sledge hammer weight would lay a
frail creature like me helpless in the dust!
Bulger, brave as he was, quailed at the sight. In an instant I collected
my thoughts and breathed a last goodbye to the elder baron and to the
gentle baroness, my mother, in their far-away home beneath the northern
skies.
Now they had reached the very doorway, and stood beating their huge
chests and giving forth deep rumbling sounds.
Instinctively I unsheathed my poniard and brandished it in the air.
The effect was astounding!
With terrific cries, groans and shouts they fell back in the wildest
terror, rolling over each other, bounding asunder like gigantic
footballs, striking the earth and bounding into an erect position.
When at last these human air-bags settled down into something like rest,
one of their number broke out into the most plaintive and beseeching
speech which, I afterwards learned, had about the following meaning: “O,
Master: O, Magician! O, Mysterious Lump! O, Impenetrable Chunk! put away
that dread instrument! Prick us not with its awful point, pierce not our
delicate skins. The slightest touch from that frightful blade would
cause our bodies to burst like pricked balloons! Fear us not. We are thy
friends. We come to conduct thee to our great chief, Ztwish-Ztwish. I am
Go-Whizz, thy slave.”
Suddenly the truth broke in upon my wondering mind. There was no
falsehood in the speaker’s words. It was Go-Whizz! The others were his
companions—the wretched woebegone bags of bones who had parted with me
only the day before.
With a smile and gentle wave of the hand, I hastily returned my dagger
to its sheath and gave Go-Whizz to understand that he had nothing to
fear from me. Half crazed with curiosity I now advanced to take a closer
look at Go-Whizz and his companions. Sober fact is it when I tell you
that they were, man for man, the self same beings I first fell in with
on my starting out to explore the island.
But this wonderful change you ask? How had they in one short night grown
to such herculean build—arms and limbs as massive as those of Japanese
wrestlers.
I reply it was all air! When I first met these gentlemen they had not
dined. Now they had just come from a hearty meal. For, you must know
that I was now in the land of the wonderful Wind Eaters! When the air is
calm and the winds asleep, these curious people are obliged to fast,
and, their skins hang in wrinkled bags as I have described; but when the
wind starts up for a mad frolic or even a gentle puff and blow, these
strange creatures at once begin to increase in size, and not long is it
before every wrinkle and crease disappear like magic.
As Go-Whizz and his companion stood before me, I was struck by the
ridiculous contrast between their voices and the expression of their
faces. Yesterday, with their fierce and forbidding faces their voices
were soft and flute-like; to-day, their voices were terrible, deep and
rumbling, while their faces now puffed out smooth and round seemed
wreathed in smiles and good humor.
As I stood lost in wonder at the sight of these strangely-transformed
beings, Go-Whizz rumbled out something which I easily understood to be a
request that I should permit him to conduct me to the residence of his
great chief, Ztwish-Ztwish.
I smiled assent and set about gathering up my traps.
Bulger was completely nonplussed and fixed his lustrous eyes upon me as
much as to say:
“Dear little master, how canst thou trust thyself to these huge
mountains of flesh, a single one of whom could crush thy frail body as
easily as I would a mouse?”
I gave him a few caresses and stroked his silken coat, to let him know I
was sure that I was right. Go-Whizz and his band, clumsy as they seemed,
were by no means slow of pace. They moved forward at a brisk rate for
the air was calm and they had little to carry. Now and then, upon
bumping together, they bounded apart like rubber balls. It was a
difficult thing for me to keep from laughing, especially when I saw
Bulger’s look of utter perplexity. He rolled his eyes up at me in the
most comical manner. However, at last we entered the village of the Wind
Eaters, where the great chief, Ztwish-Ztwish held his court.
He too was puffed out pretty round, although, as I afterwards learned,
the laws of the land did not allow him to eat as heartily as his
subjects. Here and there a wrinkle was visible. His face and arms didn’t
have that look of puffy tightness common to his people after a hearty
meal. He had already been fully informed of my arrival on his island,
and of my extraordinary weight and hardness for my size.
It took about fifteen of the Wind Eaters to balance me in the scales.
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish received Bulger and me with the greatest kindness. I
was at once presented to his ministers of state and to the members of
his family. Queen Phew-yoo was a very stately dame, dignified and
reserved in her manners; but the little princess Pouf-fâh charmed me
with her childlike curiosity.
Their excellencies, the ministers of state, stood behind their master
and seemed intent upon giving him far more advice than he was willing to
listen to. Their names were Hiss-sah, Whirr-Whirr and Sh-Boom.
You may well imagine the excitement created in the home of chief
Ztwish-Ztwish by my arrival. From the highest to the lowest, from chief
to serving-man, everyone begged and implored to be allowed to feel of
me.
Anxious to make a favorable impression upon the strange people so that I
might have a good opportunity to study them at my ease, I submitted
good-naturedly for an hour or more, to being patted, pinched, prodded,
rubbed, and stroked.
It were vain for me to attempt to give you any idea of the thousand and
one outcries of surprise, delight, wonder, fear, anxiety, and dread
which went up from this multitude of strange beings, who were, although
they didn’t seem to think so, quite as great curiosities to me as I to
them.
My stock of dried fruit was now quite exhausted and I began to feel the
gnawings of hunger.
I was always blest with a splendid appetite and the pure bracing air of
this island only added to it. Bulger, too, I could see, was casting
inquiring glances about in search of some signs of kitchen arrangements.
I made known to chief Ztwish-Ztwish, as well as I could, the state of
affairs, and he at once summoned Hiss-sah, Whirr-Whirr and Sh-Boom to
his side for a consultation.
They held a most animated discussion and one too, which ran from quarter
hour to quarter hour without any sign of coming to an end.
All this time my poor stomach was wondering what had cut off the
customary supplies.
Like rulers the world over, chief Ztwish-Ztwish was impatient and
self-willed. Finally he lost his temper completely and moved about so
vigorously that his three ministers were kept continually on the bounce,
so to speak.
If you can only wait long enough every thing comes to an end. I was
finally bidden to approach the chief, who asked me whether I had, since
my arrival on his island, seen anything which I could eat?
I was obliged to confess that I had not. Whereupon there was another
consultation, which ended in Ztwish-Ztwish seizing his corkwood club and
sending each one of his ministers in a different direction, with three
quick smart blows. The sight was so ludicrous that I would willingly
have let my dinner go for a chance at the bat myself.
Suddenly an idea came to me. I could see that this settlement of the
Wind Eaters was not far from the seashore. So, as best I could, I made
chief Ztwish-Ztwish comprehend that I could eat the oysters and other
shell fish, of which I had noticed vast quantities lying on the white
sands of the ocean.
When the thing was made thoroughly plain to them that I proposed to
satisfy my hunger by devouring such horrid and disgusting creatures as
lived between these shells, I was really alarmed at the consternation it
caused.
Queen Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh were taken ill and withdrew to
their apartments in great haste, while one and all, even including the
fierce Go-Whizz, were seized with symptoms of nausea. By degrees,
however, they recovered and orders were issued to half a dozen
serving-men who, not being gorged, were in good marching condition to
set out for the shore, and bring a supply of the shell-fish to appease
my hunger, which, by this time had really set its teeth in my vitals.
Meanwhile Bulger and I were conducted to a neat bamboo dwelling with an
umbrella-shaped roof, and left to ourselves until the supply of food
should arrive.
I was too hungry to sleep. And, Bulger, too, was in the same condition.
But he was patience itself, as he always is, when he knows that his
little master is suffering.
I threw myself down on a heap of dried rushes and my loving companion
came and pillowed his head on my arm.
After a tedious wait of an hour or so a great outcry told me that
something unusual had happened in the village of the Wind Eaters.
It was the arrival of the serving-men bringing the supply of oysters.
I could hardly restrain myself until chief Ztwish-Ztwish should summon
me to break my long fast.
When I reached the chief’s quarters I found a vast crowd of people
assembled to see the “Lump Man” put solid things down his throat.
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish and his court occupied front seats.
As you know by this time the voice of a Wind Eater depends upon the
condition he is in. If he has just eaten and his body is rounded out
like a well-filled balloon, his voice is deep and rumbling; if, on the
other hand, he has not taken food for a day or so and his skin hangs in
folds and wrinkles on his framework of bones, he speaks with a soft,
flute-like tone.
As I stepped to the front, followed by Bulger, and took my place beside
the heap of oysters, a deafening outcry went up, in which the deep roars
of the inflated Wind Eaters were mingled with the soft flute-like tones
of the fasting ones. Not noticing any instrument at hand with which to
pry the shells open I thoughtlessly drew my poniard from its sheath. In
an instant a terrible panic seized upon the assembled multitude. Queen
Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh fell into a swoon. Chief Ztwish-Ztwish
being in a fasting condition darted away to his apartments like a
phantom. The ministers of state, Iliss-sah, Whirr-Whirr and Sh-Boom,
being puffed up to their fullest capacity, struck the ground with their
feet and rolled out of the way like huge footballs.
Quick as thought I sheathed my dagger, the sight of whose glittering
point had brought about all this consternation; and, profiting by the
lessons given me at our first meeting by Go-Whizz and his companions, I
began a series of head-duckings and walkingbeam motions of my body,
which soon restored confidence in my peaceful intentions and brought my
scattered audience back to their seats. Go-Whizz, who had run the
farthest, was now loudest in his boasts that he had not been the least
frightened. Chief Ztwish-Ztwish resumed his seat with considerable
nerve, but I noticed that he kept his eyes fastened on the place where I
had hidden my dagger in my belt. Although the sight of the toothsome
oysters only served to whet my appetite, yet was I now terribly
perplexed to know how I should pry the shells open, for the laws of the
land of the Wind Eaters visited the death penalty upon any one found
with a sharp-pointed instrument in his possession.
In earliest childhood the finger-nails are kept pared down to the flesh,
until they lose their power to grow hard, and their place is taken by a
piece of tough skin.
Teeth—the Wind Eaters have none; or, more correctly speaking, their
teeth do not grow above their gums. Nature seemed to have gradually
ceased taking the trouble to supply these people with something for
which they had absolutely no use.
You must bear in mind that these curious people had not always been
satisfied with such thin diet. In ancient times—so chief Ztwish-Ztwish
informed me, their ancestors had been fruit-eaters; the fruits, however,
failing, they had been forced to have recourse to the gums which flowed
from the trees, and as these gradually dried up, they made discovery
that the various winds which blew across the island were filled with
some invisible germs or particles, which had the power of sustaining
life.
To resume: Observing a flint hatchet lying on the ground, I laid hold of
it and set to work opening one of the largest oysters. A deep silence
settled upon the assemblage. With a skilful twist, I wrenched the upper
shell off, and, raising the lower one, upon which the fat and luscious
creature lay unmindful of his impending fate, I opened my mouth and
gracefully let the dainty morsel slip out of sight! A hundred cries of
half horror, half wonder broke like a great chorus from the surrounding
crowds of Wind Eaters. Again and again this outburst died away, only to
break forth once more with redoubled vigor.
Many of the lookers-on were made so seriously ill by this—to them—most
extraordinary spectacle, that they hastily left the place before I was
able to take a second mouthful.
You may fancy how they felt. About as you would were I to begin gulping
down bits of stone and iron.
Queen Phew-yoo clung timorously to her husband’s arm; but the princess
Pouf-fâh stepped boldly nearer to me, so that she might have a better
view of the “little man solid all through.” Again I raised one of the
largest shells and let its occupant slip noiselessly down my throat, not
forgetting each time to loosen the white muscle which held the shells
together for Bulger’s share of the feast.
Gradually the qualms of the Wind Eaters, at sight of a human being
swallowing food in lumps, gave place to a devouring curiosity on their
part to draw nearer and get a better view of my manner of satisfying
hunger.
I could understand enough to know that many of the Wind Eaters had
serious doubts that I really swallowed the oysters.
To them, I was little less than some sort of a sleight-of-hand man or
doer of tricks.
The little princess Pouf-fâh mounted upon one of the benches, and the
instant the oyster disappeared down my throat insisted upon my opening
my mouth to its greatest width, in order that she might take a look for
herself and see if the oyster were not hidden away under my tongue or in
my cheek somewhere.
A sudden scream of terror startled the lookers-on as much as it did me.
The little princess was carried away in a swoon.
It was my teeth! They had frightened the gentle Pouf-fâh half to death.
For a moment all was confusion. Encouraged by Go-Whizz, many of the Wind
Eaters seized their clubs and pressed forward with murderous intent. The
reappearance of princess Pouf-fâh, bright and smiling, set everything
right again.
Now the crowd was seized with unconquerable curiosity to draw near and
take a look for themselves at the terrible thing which had thrown
Pouf-fâh into a swoon.
My jaws soon began to ache from stretching my mouth wide enough open to
give each one of them a glance at my double row of ivory cutters and
grinders, and if I do say it myself, I had in those days one of the
finest sets of teeth that ever cut their way through a slice of Nienburg
biscuit, or ground up a piece of German roast goose.
From now on, these childlike and simple-minded people became pretty
thoroughly convinced that the “Little Man Thick All Through” was a kind
and peaceful creature and every way perfectly harmless.
The children flocked about me, and encouraged by my smiles and
head-duckings soon made friends with me.
I was glad of this, for I was anxious to make a close study of the Wind
Eaters young and old.
You may judge of my surprise when I saw a bevy of these
children—animated puff-balls that they were—engaged in the to them,
novel sport of rushing full tilt at me and bouncing off like rubber
balls from a board fence.
Well, I suppose you are bursting with curiosity to hear something more
definite about these strange people.
To me they were not entirely unknown. I had read here and there ancient
books of travel by Arabian authors, of some such a race; whose bodies
were so frail that they were unable to partake of any stronger and
heavier food than the sweet gums which flowed from the trees and whose
skins were so transparent that they were called “glass-bodied,” the
beating of their little hearts being plainly visible to the eye of the
beholder. I have no doubt that these authors referred to the dwellers of
this wonderful island, on which no fruits, berries or edible roots were
to be found, and whose ancestors, as I was informed by chief
Ztwish-Ztwish, did, in former ages, thus sustain their lives. But I must
confess that the fact that there were in existence human beings who
literally lived upon air; or, more correctly speaking, upon winds laden
with some invisible particles of life-sustaining matter, was a little
more than I had ever dared to dream out, even in the most active
workings of my imagination. You may judge then of my delight upon
finding myself among these extraordinary people, and upon discovering
them to be such true children of nature, mild-mannered and
peacefully-inclined.
And yet I was not long in making a discovery which proved to be quite an
important one to me.
It was this. I learned that although the truth was as I have stated it,
that the Wind Eaters are as a rule, a race of peace-loving creatures,
gentle in their dispositions and averse to wrong-doing, yet there were
exceptions to this general rule. Strange to say, it depended on what
wind they fed upon.
All the women, for instance, were gentleness itself. They fed upon the
soft zephyrs of the south. But the great majority of these people
contented themselves with satisfying their hunger by resorting to the
strong and wholesome west wind; while a goodly number, from some idea
that it had a sweeter and more delicate flavor, a sort of heavy,
nut-like taste, preferred the fitful, irregular east wind. It was
however not considered wholesome diet by the best physicians of the
nation and they contended that those who made a habit of feeding upon
this wind were never as hale and hearty as those who restricted
themselves entirely to the nutritious and bracing west wind.
A few there were—as in every land there are those who delight in strong,
rich food, who insisted upon feeding on the rugged, gusty north-west
wind, claiming that it was best suited to their wants, and that nature
had intended man to partake of a wind powerful and strong-bodied, in
order to fit them for the battle of life. There were even some—a very
few, be it said to the honor of these mild-mannered and peace-loving
people, who, contrary to the laws of the land and the express commands
of chief Ztwish-Ztwish, welcomed the blowing of the angry whistling,
boisterous north-wind, and drank in the dangerous fluid until their
better natures were completely changed; and from being gentle, timorous
and peace-loving, they became rough, and quarrelsome.
To this ilk belonged Captain Go-Whizz. In fact, as I was told by
Whirr-Whirr, chief Ztwish-Ztwish himself showed signs of fear when he
saw Go-Whizz come swaggering into the village, his eyes inflamed, his
steps unsteady, his speech indistinct after a heavy meal upon the rude
and buffeting wind of the north. While in this condition Go-Whizz lost
the slight control he had over himself and had, upon one occasion, so
far forgotten himself as to breathe out threats and defiance against
chief Ztwish-Ztwish, driving that ruler out of his own apartments, by
advancing upon him with a bit of flint which he had ground to a
dangerously sharp point.
Such were the curious people among whom I now found myself sojourning
and on terms of pleasant intimacy with their ruler.
A few days after my arrival at the village of the Wind Eaters, I was,
unfortunately the innocent cause of rather a grave accident, which, for
a while had the effect of making me somewhat unpopular at the court of
chief Ztwish-Ztwish.
It all came about in this way:
I’ve already told you how quick the children were to discover the
solidity of my body and what delight they took in throwing themselves
against me full tilt, in order to have the sport of bouncing off again
like so many rubber balls.
Now you must keep in mind the fact that even after a hearty meal, a
whole dozen of these babies weighed about one good pound.
I used to encourage them to play about me, in order the better to
observe their curious tricks and ways, one of which was to lock arms and
legs and thus form a chain of human links, one of which being fastened
to a peak of the roof and the other possibly to some high staff or pole,
at times even extending across the street and ending on the roof of the
opposite dwelling. Thus festooned they spent hours swaying to and fro in
the cool of the day, often swinging themselves to sleep. And it was not
at all an unusual thing to see one of the mothers in search of her child
come bustling along, halt, take down the line of living links, unhook
her baby, replace the line and hurry away home.
While seated, one day, on the balcony of one of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s
cottages, a dozen or more of the children set to work to form such a
chain, one end of it being fastened to one of my earrings which, like a
good sailor, I took pleasure in wearing at times, and the other reaching
nearly to the ground, passing over the high rail of the balcony.
Scrambling, pushing and squirming, uttering the queerest cries, shouts
and squeals, these tiny Wind Eaters were half wild with joy, when
suddenly one of those nearest me swung against the point of a needle
which I had, doubtlessly, thrust into the lapel of my coat the last time
I had been doing some mending, for, like a true sailor, I was skilled in
the use of needle and thread.
I was aroused from my dreamy contemplation of these fantastic beings by
a sharp crack like that made by the bursting of a toy balloon.
Again and again the same sharp noise rang in my ear.
A glance was sufficient to explain it all. I could feel my hair
bristling up with horror as I saw the living links of this chain snap
asunder, one after the other, and disappear into thin air. Exploded by
coming into contact with the needle point, the force of the explosion of
the first of these tiny puff-balls of humanity had been sufficient to
burst the baby next in the line and so on to the end of the chain!
A dozen of them gone in less than as many seconds and not so much as a
lock of hair to carry home to the heart broken mothers!
In a few moments, the news of the accident had spread to every quarter
of the village. The weeping, shrieking mothers, howling for vengeance,
gathered quickly about the dwelling into the interior of which Bulger
and I had retreated.
Now you may believe me when I say, that I would not have stood in the
least dread of an army of the Wind Eaters, when they were fully inflated
after a hearty meal, but it so happened that the air had been calm for a
day or so, and that many of them were now shrunken to the living
skeleton size in which I had first met them. In this condition they were
foes not to be despised, for, moving as they did, with almost lightning
rapidity, their mode of fighting was to entangle their enemy in fine
nets, woven of bamboo fibre and then beat them to death with their
clubs.
True, these clubs were made of corkwood, and a score of them weighed
less than a pound; yet, this fact would only make death slower and more
painful; for, while a few blows might suffice to put one of their own
kind out of his misery, it would, most surely, have required a whole day
for them to beat the life out of such a solid enemy as I was.
Before I had chance to collect my thoughts, Go-Whizz was at the door
with his band, their nets coiled to throw over me, while behind the
net-throwers stood a row of club-bearers, anxiously awaiting their turn
to begin proceedings. Thought I to myself: “This is serious business. If
chief Ztwish-Ztwish is not at hand, they will entangle me in their nets
and try to beat the life out of me before he returns, for they well know
his affection for me.” But, worse than all, was the fact that Go-Whizz
had just returned from a distant part of the island, whither he and a
few of his chums had made a secret journey, in order to gorge themselves
on the rude and boisterous north-west wind. He was full of swagger and
ire! I had never seen him swollen to such a size. His voice sounded like
the deep bellowing of some fierce animal.
He whirled his net in the air, and called out in thundering tones for
his men to follow him.
I felt now that the moment had arrived for me to make a desperate effort
to save my life and Bulger’s, too, for, with his four feet twisted up in
one of their nets, he would fall an easy prey to Go-Whizz and his band.
I felt, too, that it would be worse than useless to appeal to Go-Whizz
for mercy, influenced, as he was, by long and deep draughts of the
fierce and raging north-west gale.
There he stood, puffing, blowing, blustering, swaggering, as round and
round his head he swung the fatal web, which, the moment I should
attempt to take my back from the wall, he intended to cast over me as a
fowler would entrap a bird.
Suddenly I bethought myself of the little instrument which had brought
me to this dangerous strait.
Before drawing it, however, from its hiding-place, I determined to play
the bully and swagger a little myself.
Now, the heaviest Wind Eater weighs about six pounds; and, as you may
imagine, my weight, nearly a hundred pounds, was a source of great dread
to them. They stood in constant fear that I might accidentally tread
upon one of the toes of a Wind Eater and explode him.
Before they would allow me to venture out upon one of their balconies,
or to inhabit an upper story of one of their dwellings, they proceeded
to strengthen it with the stoutest bamboo poles they could find. So, I
now began to give the valiant Go-Whizz a few gentle reminders of my
weight and solidity.
Leaping high into the air, I landed upon the bamboo flooring with such a
thump that everything creaked and trembled.
At first there was a general stampede of Go-Whizz’s followers, and that
blustering leader was the only one left to face Bulger and me.
He stood his ground pretty bravely, although I could see that he was
half inclined to heed the cries of his men and make his way out of the
dwelling before I succeeded in wrecking it. But, after a few more of my
jumps, seeing that the flooring withstood all my efforts to break it
down, Go-Whizz succeeded in rallying his band.
Again, and now more furious than ever, they surrounded us, shrieking and
howling like mad, their uplifted right hands bearing the dangerous nets,
with which they hoped to entangle Bulger and me, and then dispatch us.
Now, it was high time for me to fall back on my reserves.
I did so. The effect was simply astounding. The needle proved to be one
of the kind used for darning; very long and bright, and exceedingly
sharp-pointed. My dagger point was bad enough. It had thrown them into a
wild and panicky fear. But, this little instrument, as I brandished it
in front of them, threw them into fits of rigid terror.
They stood rooted to the ground, their bulging eyes riveted upon the
needle-point as if they, one and all, expected it to prick them to death
if they stirred an inch.
At last, making a mighty effort, Go-Whizz broke away from the spot,
uttering a deep and rumbling cry of horror, his men rolling after him,
in the wildest terror. When they saw the tumultuous manner in which the
valiant Go-Whizz and his followers retreated from my presence, the
assembled men and women, with frightful cries, took to their heels as if
a legion of demons were pursuing them.
In a few moments Bulger and I stood alone on the battle field. He had
not budged from my side during the time that death threatened me.
“Come!” said I, as I stooped and stroked his head. “Come, thou faithful
friend and companion, let us go to chief Ztwish-Ztwish and lay the
matter before him!”
The chief had just awoke from a noonday nap. He had calmly slept through
the whole conflict, and so it was necessary for me to give him a full
account of the unfortunate accident which resulted in exploding an
entire string of babies, and of Go-Whizz’s attempt to slay me. He
listened with great calmness and most patiently too. He then begged to
be excused for a few moments as an attendant had just informed him that
a very soft and sweet south wind had begun to blow.
He stepped out on the balcony; and after he had taken about a dozen
mouthfuls of the pure, refreshing breeze, returned looking a little
plumper and, like all men after enjoying a meal of favorite food, was
still more amiable and kindly in his manner than before.
The news that a dozen of the smallest subjects had been so
unceremoniously popped out of existence didn’t seem to worry him very
much. What moved him most of all, was the fact which, apparently, up to
that hour had never entered into his mind, namely, that a point so fine,
so delicate, so deadly, so nearly invisible, could be created by the
hand of man!
I assured him that it was that very moment hidden in the stuff of my
garb, right in front of his eyes.
He trembled.
I strove to reassure him, by explaining to him that I would as soon
think of plunging my poniard into my own heart as of turning this almost
invisible and yet deadly point against his life.
He tried to smile, but it ended in a shudder.
“Thinkest thou, little man thick-all-through,” asked chief Ztwish-Ztwish
with a trembling tongue, “that I may look upon it and not fall into a
swoon?”
“O, most assuredly, great chief:” was my reply. “In fact, most light and
buoyant Ztwish-Ztwish,” I continued, “I can rob this dreaded instrument
of all its power to injure thee and place it in thy hand like any
harmless bit of wood. Is it thy will that I should thus deliver to thee
this dreaded point?”
With a slight shiver, chief Ztwish-Ztwish made answer:
“Ay, great and learned little master, I think I can bear the sight of it
now. I am, indeed, very brave, but thou knowest a single prick of that
deadly point would instantly end the life of the sturdiest Wind Eater.”
I again assured him that there was really nothing to dread so long as he
followed my directions. So saying I drew the darning needle from its
hiding place.
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish closed his eyes at first, but gradually grew bold
enough to gaze upon the glittering point.
Stooping down I picked up one of the cork clubs and breaking off a bit
of the smaller end thrust the needle point into it.
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish watched my movements with a sort of painful
curiosity.
“There, great chief of the Wind Eaters,” I exclaimed, “now thou mayest
toy with it, hide it in the rushes of thy bed, it cannot injure thee! It
is as harmless as a pebble rounded by the sportive, sparkling waters of
one of thy mountain brooks. Take it! it may serve thee some day, in case
of a sudden attack upon thy illustrious person.”
“At such a moment, fear naught! seize it firmly, draw its dreaded point
from its hiding place in this bit of cork. So small is it that it will
be invisible in thy hand, and while thine enemy stands before thee in
fancied safety, pierce him to death; for, thou are ruler and it is
fitting that death should strike him who attempts to rob thy people of
their chief!”
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish took the needle with trembling hand, and hid the bit
of cork which held it under the thatch of the roof. Then, calling out,
he summoned one of his serving-men and bade him bring from a neighboring
apartment a certain small bamboo chest, from which he drew a string of
rare jewels somewhat of the nature of amber, only a thousand times more
brilliant. With this beautiful gift he dismissed me, issuing orders to
his ministers that no harm should be allowed to come to me for the
accident which exploded the string of little Wind Eaters.
Go-Whizz could with difficulty hide his anger at seeing me once more an
honored guest at the court of chief Ztwish-Ztwish.
I did not relax my vigilance in the least, however. Every night I barred
the windows with my own hands, and placed Bulger’s mat of rushes in
front of the door, so that it would be impossible for the wrathful
leader to surprise me.
Now that the explosion of the babies was quite forgotten, my sojourn
among the Wind Eaters would have continued to be extremely pleasant, had
not a new difficulty arisen to cause me anxiety.
The rather thin diet upon which I had been existing, since my arrival
among these curious people, while it appeased my hunger, robbed me of
that plump and well-fed look which I had always had, I found myself
losing flesh at an alarming rate. Chief Ztwish-Ztwish and queen Phew-yoo
were delighted, for as they expressed it, “the little man
thick-all-through was rapidly becoming in appearance at least, a genuine
Wind Eater.”
Bulger, too, fell away dreadfully.
Now and then I surprised him with his dark, lustrous eyes fixed upon me
with as much as to say: “O, little master, what is the matter with us?
We eat, and yet we grow thin. Are we really turning to Wind Eaters?”
And another bad phase of the matter was, that while my ever-increasing
leanness was causing me so much anxiety, it was carrying joy to the
heart of queen Phew-yoo who, it seems, had formed the plan of keeping me
for the rest of my life in the service of her lord and master by
bestowing upon me the hand of the fair princess Pouf-fâh.
Queen Phew-yoo’s explanation of my ever-increasing thinness was, that it
was the effect of the wonderful atmosphere of their island; that it
mattered very little how thick and solid a man might be, if he lived
long enough among them, he would gradually lose it and become, if not a
genuine Wind Eater, at least almost as light and airy a being as they
were.
As I learned of these views from others before hearing them from the
queen’s own lips, it was not at all a surprise for me, one day to
receive a message from the stately Phew-yoo summoning me to present
myself before her.
She accorded me a very gracious reception, and princess Pouf-fâh too,
showed great delight at seeing me under her mother’s roof. She bounced
hither and thither like a toy balloon, now shaking perfume from dried
flowers, now holding up strings of the curious gems, which I have
already mentioned, and making them glisten in front of my face.
I amused her by holding her out on the palm of my hand and tossing her
up and catching her, as I would a rubber ball.
Queen Phew-yoo looked on in mute satisfaction.
When Princess Pouf-fâh had grown weary of play, the queen spoke as
follows:
“O, little man thick-all-through, I have to say to thee that which will
gladden thy heart. The great chief, my husband, and I have noticed with
joy that day by day thou art growing thinner and thinner. Know then,
that this is the magical effect of the air thou breathest. When our
forefathers landed on this island, they, like thee were solid all
through. Therefore, be not alarmed when, a few months hence, thou
findest thyself completely changed. Thou wilt, ere long, lose this heavy
load of useless flesh, which thou hast been for so long a time condemned
to carry about with thee, and become light and buoyant, like us. And, O
beloved Lump, that thou mayest hasten the change from thy present solid
form and become a graceful and hollow being like one of us, I do, with
the chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s counsel and consent, accord thee permission to
eat with us each day. This very hour shalt thou make thy first meal upon
the sweet and wholesome wind of the South. The very moment, little
Chunk, that thou hast become thin enough to suit the great chief, he
will give thee the fair princess Pouf-fâh for thy wife.”
At these words, the princess, who really seemed to be very fond of me,
clapped her hands joyfully, and bounced between her mother and me like a
toy football.
“But, little Man-Lump,” continued queen Phew-yoo, “before we set out to
dine on the sweet wind which blows over Banquet Hill, there are two
things which the great chief Ztwish-Ztwish said I must be very
particular to mention to you, the two conditions upon which he is
willing to honor you above all men, by bestowing the hand of the
beautiful princess Pouf-fâh upon thee.”
“Name them, gracious queen!” I cried, for I was too wise to raise any
objections at this point. I knew only too well that a single word from
chief Ztwish-Ztwish would hand me over to the tender mercies of the
fierce Go-Whizz.
“They are,” resumed queen Phew-yoo, puffing out her cheeks and tapping
them playfully with the backs of her thumbs, “they are, little man
thick-all-through, that thou shalt file thy teeth down even with thy
gums and keep thy nails always pared down to the flesh.”
“It shall be, gracious queen, as thou desirest,” I replied, with several
low bendings of my body.
“Then,” answered queen Phew-yoo gayly, “there remains nothing for thee
to do but to begin at once to accustom thyself to our food; so let us
set out for Banquet Hill without delay, for the sweet south wind is
blowing fresh and strong!”
I accompanied queen Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh to the place
indicated. It was a beautiful knoll, from which I could look far away to
southward over a valley, enchantingly fair.
She and the princess at once began to inhale the soft, sweet air, and
encouraged me to do the same.
They were delighted with my efforts. In fact, the motherly Phew-yoo
seemed a little bit anxious lest I should overeat myself.
After the princess had taken a few deep draughts, I was surprised to see
an attendant approach her and place about her throat a necklace of
beads, strung upon an elastic cord. This was a precaution to prevent the
princess from eating too heartily, were she so inclined. Well, as you
may imagine, I returned to my apartments from dining with queen Phew-yoo
and princess Pouf-fâh on Banquet Hill a very hungry man; if that were
possible, hungrier than I was before, for the pure, fresh air and many
deep breaths had fairly made me ravenous.
Once more alone with Bulger, I set to work thinking out some scheme to
get hold of more food; and, by checking my alarming loss of flesh, put
an end to queen Phew-yoo’s plan of transforming me into a genuine Wind
Eater and giving me the princess Pouf-fâh for a wife.
It occurred to me that possibly I might catch some fish in one of the
arms of the sea nearest to the village and broil it on live embers, for
I had my tinder box in my pocket.
This plan worked to a charm. I soon succeeded in teaching several of the
serving-men to rig up a number of their war-nets as a sort of seine, and
was overjoyed the first time I cast it to make a haul of a dozen or more
fine sea-bass.
Bulger entered into the sport with great zeal, seizing a rope in his
mouth and tugging away for dear life, as we began to haul in.
The next thing was to gather some dry leaves and wood, and start a
suitable fire to make a bed of embers. Crowds of the Wind Eaters
gathered about me and watched my movements with a sort of mixture of
wonder, fear and pleasure.
When at last the smoke began to curl up, and the flame showed itself,
cries of consternation broke forth, and a wild stampede ensued.
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish was hastily summoned; but, I had no difficulty in
convincing him that I intended no injury to anyone, that the red tongues
which he saw darting forth were perfectly harmless if they did not come
in contact with one’s flesh; that it would only be necessary for him to
issue a command forbidding the people to approach too near to the
tongues of crimson which darted from the black clouds of smoke.
By the time the live embers had formed I was ready with a dressed
sea-bass of about two pounds’ weight, and the cooking began.
It is needless for me to assure you that Bulger and I sat down to a
delightful meal, really the first satisfactory one since my arrival
among the Wind Eaters.
From this time on all went well. Every day my oyster gatherers and my
fishermen made their visit to the shore to keep my larder supplied. Upon
their return, I was always in readiness with a fine bed of embers. So
things went on for a week or so. I was delighted to find Bulger and
myself gaining flesh in splendid style. And still, every now and then I
was obliged to accept queen Phew-yoo’s invitation to dine with her and
the princess Pouf-fâh at Banquet Hill, where I pretended to enjoy a meal
on the soft and perfumed south wind quite as much as they did
themselves. Queen Phew-yoo insisted that my complexion was growing
clearer and more transparent every day, and that, beyond all doubt, in a
few months I would be able entirely to give up a “swallowing stones” as
she called it.
While I was quietly pursuing my studies of these curious people, another
unfortunate occurrence took place, and this time it turned out to be a
very grave and serious matter.
The Wind Eaters were not long in getting accustomed to the, to them, at
first, startling sight of “crimson tongues darting from the mouths of
black clouds.” In fact, they soon learned to like the odor of the
delicate morsels as they lay broiling on the embers, and when the air
was chilly, didn’t hesitate to form a circle around Bulger and me as we
sat eating our dinner and enjoy the warmth, and to them, curious
spectacle at the same time. It so happened that one evening, I had left
a deeper bed of embers than I had imagined. The ashes collected over
them and they continued to glow till nightfall. A band of roysterers
belonging to the Go-Whizz faction, by the merest chance, returned
homeward that night from a trip to the north shore of the island, where
they had gorged themselves upon the boisterous wind of that quarter.
Attracted by the glow of the remaining embers, they made haste to gather
a lot of wood, threw it upon the smoldering fire, and, as the flames
began to thrust out their red tongues here and there, ranged themselves
in a circle to enjoy the warmth, for the night was damp and chilly.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN GO-WHIZZ AND HIS LIEUTENANT THREATEN THE LITTLE
BARON]
So pleasant did they find the effects of the warmth that they resolved
to pass the night there and threw themselves down on the ground as close
to the fire as they deemed it prudent to go.
About midnight a gentle scratching on my arm from Bulger’s paw, told me
that something unusual had happened, for he never awakened me unless he
was quite sure that the matter was serious enough to warrant him in
disturbing me.
I found the village in the wildest state of alarm. Ear-piercing screams
from the women mingled with the deep rumbling outcries of the men.
You have no doubt, already guessed what had happened. The facts were
simply these: In the night, the cold had increased, and several of the
Wind Eaters, half asleep, and half stupefied by the deep draughts of the
boisterous north-west wind, had approached closer and closer to the
fire, when suddenly the vast quantity of cold air which they had
swallowed began to expand and four of them exploded with a terrific
noise.
In quicker time than it takes to tell it, my dwelling was surrounded by
a screaming, shrieking, howling mob of Wind Eaters, demanding my instant
death.
It required all of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s influence with his people to
save me from being entangled in their fatal nets and beaten to death on
the spot.
To make matters a thousand times worse, the bully and swaggerer,
Go-Whizz, entered the village at this very moment, with a pack of his
quarrelsome hangers-on at his heels. He had been away on a secret trip
to the farthest northern point of the island, where the north wind howls
and roars its maddest. I had never seen him puffed up so to the very
bursting point with his favorite food.
When he heard of the fate which had overtaken his four comrades, his
fury knew no bounds. He and his followers pounded their chests until the
air quivered with deep and rumbling sounds, while ever and anon they
broke out into the wildest lamentations for their dead companions. He
openly and boldly charged chief Ztwish-Ztwish with having betrayed his
people and given over their once happy island to certain ruin at the
hands of the “little monster thick-all-through,” who, by his dread magic
and foul mysteries, would soon bring their people to feed upon stones
like himself.
Day now began to break; and with the coming light, the confusion in the
village seemed to take on new strength. So sure was I that death was
about to strike me that I wrote out several messages to the elder baron
and to the gentle baroness, my mother, on the leaves of my note-book,
and left directions with one of the chief’s serving-men that, in case of
my death, it was my wish that he should send them to my people, whom he
would find on my ship in the beautiful bay on the distant shore of the
island.
I said nothing about Bulger, for I knew only too well that he would die
by my side.
I prepared for the worst. I examined the primings of my pocket-pistols,
and concealed my dagger under my coat at the back of my neck, where I
would be better able to reach it, if it came to close quarters.
This done, I proceeded to cut my finger-nails to as sharp points as I
could, for I was determined to sell my life as dearly as possible.
While I felt confident of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s affection for me, yet I
couldn’t tell at what moment he might lose courage and turn me over to
the mob, in order to save himself.
Bulger watched all my preparations with wide-opened and intelligent
eyes, occasionally giving utterance to a low, nervous whine, as the
howling, shrieking, roaring mob surged back and forth in front of chief
Ztwish-Ztwish’s dwelling.
By the law of the land, the common people were prohibited from entering
the inner enclosure of the chief’s abode, but Go-Whizz, being one of the
nobles or minor chiefs, was entitled to advance into the chief’s
presence and state his wrongs or make his requests.
So now, the raging Go-Whizz, parting from his followers, who never
ceased crying out for vengeance upon the “little demon Lump,” who, on
two different occasions, had spread death and destruction among their
people, strode into the presence of chief Ztwish-Ztwish.
The chief was calm. He had not partaken of food for four and twenty
hours, and stood up, wrinkled, creased and seamed, as the Wind Eaters
always look when fasting. Near him sat queen Phew-yoo and princess
Pouf-fâh, while directly behind him were ranged his three councillors,
Hiss-sah, Whirr-Whirr, and Sh-Boom. They were well-rounded out by recent
draughts of the strong and wholesome west wind, and hence, looked as
contented and smiling as Ztwish-Ztwish looked sad and solemn. I stood in
an adjoining apartment, concealed behind a bamboo screen, with my
faithful Bulger by my side. I was so placed that I could see all,
without being seen myself. Chief Ztwish-Ztwish knew of my presence
there.
As Bulger caught a glimpse of the raging and bellowing Go-Whizz, he grew
so nervous that I was obliged to stoop and stroke his head to let him
know I feared nothing. But the fact of the matter is, great dangers
always exert a subduing influence upon me.
I face them cooly, but sadly, for my thoughts in such moments go back to
the elder baron and to the gentle baroness, my mother, in the far-away
home ’neath the skies of the beloved fatherland.
Like a huge football impelled by the kick of some gigantic foot,
Go-Whizz landed in the audience chamber of chief Ztwish-Ztwish. He shook
his arms violently, and bounded up and down with inward fury, for he was
still too much beside himself with rage to utter any other sound than a
deep rumbling growl or mutter.
From my place behind the bamboo screen I followed, with all the keenness
of sight for which I am so justly famous, every movement of the furious
Go-Whizz, as well as the actions and demeanor of chief Ztwish-Ztwish and
of his councillors, for I was determined not to be caught napping in
case any signs of treachery should be visible. At the very first glance
I saw that the rebellious Go-Whizz had something hidden in his girdle,
and from the shape and length I knew at once that it was a flint knife.
Quick as thought, I beckoned a serving man to my side and sent a message
to the chief, telling the attendant to appear to be engaged in waving
the branches of perfumed leaves as was his duty while he whispered it in
the chief’s ear.
It was as follows:
“Be on thy guard! O, Chief. The brawler hath a flint knife hidden in his
girdle. He will attempt to slay thee. Be careful! Be calm!”
Go-Whizz had now quieted down a little; but, with a voice of thunder, he
began his tirade. He pictured the long years of peace and happiness on
their island, the blessings they had enjoyed under the long and glorious
line of rulers of which Ztwish-Ztwish was the worthy descendant. He
thundered out defiance against all the enemies of the Wind Eaters and as
softly as possible roared his own praises telling of the many deeds of
valor he had performed in Ztwish-Ztwish’s service and ended by declaring
himself ready and willing to die for his beloved chief.
When Go-Whizz had spoken, the chief bowed his head for a few moments in
silence and then made answer: “Thou hast spoken truly and wisely, O
Go-Whizz! Thou art brave. Thou hast the right to demand favor at my
hands! Speak, Go-Whizz, what may Ztwish-Ztwish do for thee?”
At these words of Ztwish-Ztwish, all the former fury of Go-Whizz broke
forth once more. Pounding his chest and striding up and down the
audience chamber, he roared out:
“That thou givest into my hands this very hour, the ‘Solid Demon,’ the
dreaded ‘Man-Lump,’ the monster ‘Thick-All-Through’ who hath brought all
this death and ruin into our peaceful land!”
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish was silent for a few moments.
Need I tell you that my very heart listened for the reply?
I could hear nothing but the deep, coarse, grating sound of Go-Whizz’s
breath as I leaned forward to catch the first word which should fall
from the chief’s lips.
It seemed a lifetime. At length Ztwish-Ztwish spoke:
“My brother, thou art inflamed with the deep draughts of the fierce and
raging north wind! Thou art beside thyself. Thou seest not clearly! I
must not adjudge death except when the decree will rest on the laws of
our fathers. True, the ‘Little Man-Thick-All-Through’ hath been the
cause of great misfortune to our people, but the innocent cause. He hath
not striven or desired to harm us. He is a lover of peace, a friend of
his kind. My followers were warned of the danger of the crimson tongues.
The ‘Man Lump’ did not seek their death. And full well too, thou knowest
that the laws of our fathers bid us to hold the lives of our guests as
sacred as the texture of our skin. Go thy way, therefore, Go-Whizz, I
cannot doom the ‘Man Lump’ to death.
“Is this,” roared the disappointed leader, “the kind of justice which
thou givest to my people?”
“Ay, is it, thou brawler!” replied chief Ztwish-Ztwish, now fast losing
control over himself. “Hold thy peace and depart, lest in my wrath at
thy frequent wrong doing I give thee over to merited punishment!”
“Have a care, Ztwish-Ztwish!” roared Go-Whizz, boiling over with rage,
“have a care lest thy people rise in their might and cast thee out, thou
unjust ruler!”
“Begone, I say!” was Ztwish-Ztwish’s calm but stern reply.
“Go thou first, then, traitor to thy people!” thundered out Go-Whizz,
springing forward with the flint knife raised high in the air.
Cries of terror burst from those gathered in the audience chamber. But
chief Ztwish-Ztwish calmly put forth his hand and touched the would-be
assassin.
With a deafening crack the body of the raging Go-Whizz flew into a
thousand pieces, like a huge balloon seized by the hands of the tempest
and whirled against the spear-like branches of some shattered oaken
monarch of the plain.
Queen Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh, bewildered and terror-stricken,
clung to each other, while silent fear sat on the faces of those around
the chief. But he was calm, and spoke a few words in a mild and steady
voice to the queen and the princess.
When the people learned of Go-Whizz’s attempt to slay their ruler and
how the brawler, at the very instant he lifted the flint knife to
strike, had been mysteriously stricken dead at Ztwish-Ztwish’s feet,
they sent up loud huzzas, for the fierce Go-Whizz was more feared than
loved, even by his followers.
It required several days for the village of the Wind Eaters to quiet
down and take on its every-day look, after the mysterious death of
Go-Whizz; but, with his disappearance vanished all opposition to chief
Ztwish-Ztwish’s rule.
The people firmly believed that it was the avenging spirits of the air
who had touched the brawler with their sword points when he raised his
hand against their ruler.
I need hardly tell you that the chief’s gratitude to me knew no bounds.
No gifts were too beautiful or too costly to be offered me. And the fact
that I declined them all, only seemed to strengthen his affection for
me.
But how could I, how dared I reject the gift of the hand of the fair
princess Pouf-fâh?
To do this would be to undo all that I have done, to make Ztwish-Ztwish
my enemy, to transform his love into hate, his confidence into
suspicion—possibly to write my own death warrant.
There was but one course left for me to pursue. And that was escape!
And escape, too, it must be at once, before I had lost the chief’s
confidence. One of Ztwish-Ztwish’s first acts after his rescue from the
flint knife of the murderous Go-Whizz, was to restore to me the tiny
instrument with the invisible point.
This done, a terrible load seemed to be lifted from his mind. He became
himself again. And with his returning happiness and content, came a
still stronger desire to hasten my marriage with the princess Pouf-fâh.
With the greatest caution, I made this and that excuse, in order to gain
time to collect my thoughts and settle upon some sure plan of escape,
for recapture I knew meant death, or worse than death—imprisonment until
I should consent to give up all desire to leave the island of the Wind
Eaters, and pledge myself to become, so far as nature would permit, one
of their people.
Cautious as I was, my excuses awakened suspicion.
The first proof of this was to find that orders had been given to cut
off my supply of fish.
Queen Phew-yoo was afraid that so long as I was permitted to have all
the solid food I wanted, I would not grow thin enough to be content with
air diet, and, therefore, not satisfied to make my home among them for
the rest of my life.
The next thing to happen to me was to find my supply of oysters and
mussels reduced one-half by orders of Phew-yoo. This meant yield or
starve!
It struck me like a bolt out of a clear sky!
But it has always been just such blows as this which have, throughout my
life, aroused me to calm, quick, intelligent action.
I hesitated no longer. My plan reached perfection in a single moment.
When nightfall came I hastily scrawled a few lines addressed to my
sailing-master, telling him of the fate which threatened to overtake me
and bidding him arm a few trusty men and hasten to my rescue. This I
tied to the collar of my loved and faithful Bulger. He covered my hand
with caresses and I held him clasped in my arms for an instant while the
tears fell hot and fast. Then I softly opened the door of my bamboo
lodge.
The night was bright and glorious. “Away, my beloved Bulger!” I
whispered, stooping and pressing my lips for the last time on his silken
ears and shapely head. “To the ship! Away!” He paused, looked into my
face, gave a low whine as if to say: “Ay, ay, little master, I
understand!” And away he sprang like the wind. For an instant I could
follow him as with a long and sturdy bound he sped along! And then he
was gone!
The next morning, to my utter astonishment, I was informed that all the
preparations for the marriage of the princess Pouf-fâh and the “little
man thick-all-through,” were completed and that the feasting and
merrymaking would begin the day following.
This piece of news, startling as it was, I received with perfect
calmness. I completely disarmed all suspicion by my apparent
satisfaction with the bright prospect of becoming the son-in-law of the
great chief Ztwish-Ztwish. I searched my pockets for trinkets to bestow
upon the light and airy Pouf-fâh.
Queen Phew-yoo was not visible. So great had been the joy of her
mother’s heart that in a moment of weakness she had partaken too
greedily of the rich, but unwholesome east wind and was now suffering
from a fearful attack of dyspepsia.
This was a most fortunate thing for me, for I am quite certain that
queen Phew-yoo would never have consented to allow me to return to my
own apartments that night. There was now but one thing left for me to do
and that was to make for the distant sea-coast, where I had left my ship
and crew.
And start, too, that very night. As ill luck would have it, chief
Ztwish-Ztwish, noticing that a delightfully strong west wind had begun
to blow insisted upon having a sort of preliminary feast about sundown.
I was invited to join the party.
Not daring to refuse, I set out with the merry-makers and not only tired
myself out by making frantic efforts to fill myself with their invisible
food but it was nearly midnight before the village grew perfectly quiet
and everybody seemed to have closed the doors and windows of his
dwelling. But, after all, the rioting of the Wind Eaters was a fortunate
thing for me. They went to bed so gorged with many and deep draughts of
the hearty and filling west wind, that they slept like logs, if you will
allow me to compare puff-balls to solid wood.
I waited until the rumbling of the voices had died away as the last
group of roysterers broke up and the solitary Wind Eaters, scattered
along the streets, disappeared one by one into their bamboo dwellings.
Leaving my door fastened on the inside, I sprang lightly through the
window, and under cover of the deep shadows made my way unnoticed to the
outskirts of the town. Here I broke into a sharp run, for at very most I
would have but six hours’ start of the Wind Eaters and that was far too
little; for, as I have already told you, they flit along like phantoms
when in a fasting condition, and even when pretty well filled, are very
swift of foot—more especially if the air be quiet so as not to impede
their advance.
On, on, I sped with a desperate resolve to make such a good use of my
start as to make it impossible for them to overtake me.
To my horror, after about an hour’s run I noticed that my legs were
beginning to tire.
This was a terrible blow to me. For a few moments I staggered along half
unconscious of where I was, whither I was hastening and of the awful
danger threatening me. All at once the truth of the matter broke upon
me.
I was but the wreck of my former self. The long months of fish diet had
robbed my muscles of that wonderful strength and elasticity which was
once my pride and my chief dependence in moments of peril.
Frail as I had grown, my legs now bent beneath me.
Slower and slower grew my pace. My heart seemed to swell and shut out
the very breath of life.
On, ever onward, I toiled with a desperate effort to escape my pursuers,
whose rumbling voices it half seemed to me were faintly booming in the
distance.
But Nature would do no more!
I reeled, I staggered, I stopped, I fell!
How long I lay there I know not. But when I came to myself, I could
plainly feel that change in the air which tells of the coming day. The
rippling of a brook fell on my ear. I dragged my aching body in the
direction the sound came from. A deep pull at the cool, clear water of
the brook refreshed me somewhat. I attempted to rise; but, O, new loss
of hope—to discover that my joints had stiffened while sleeping on the
ground, uncovered, yes, even ill-clad, for I had left one piece of my
clothing hanging on the window-sill of my lodge in the village, to quiet
any suspicion which might arise in the minds of the serving-men.
Thoughts of home, however, of the elder baron, of the gentle baroness,
my mother, of my loved Bulger, flitted through my fevered brain, and
prompted me to make one more effort to regain my feet and escape death
at the hands of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s enraged people, who would soon be
bounding along, up hill and down dale, like spirits of the wind, as they
were.
A groan escaped my lips as I rose to my feet, so like knife-points in my
joints were the pains which shot through my frame.
But I must try to be up and away, even though the effort cost me a
thousand agonizing twinges.
I owe it to the loved ones at home to push on till I fall utterly
broken, till, like a stricken beast, robbed of the power to stand, I
should topple and fall at the feet and at the mercy of my pursuers.
Such were the thoughts which oppressed my poor, reeling brain.
A terrible mystery, a torturing dream weighed me down.
I still had my mind. I could see. I could feel. I could hear. And why
should I not rise and move onward, and away from the certain death which
hovered over me?
Crazed by such thoughts, I struggled to my feet and staggered along,
sending forth a groan with every step!
But I had steeled myself to the task, and dragged myself along, still
oppressed by some strange and mysterious power, which gave to every
pebble the rock’s size, and widened every gully to a yawning chasm, on
the brink of which I paused in sickening fear of plunging into some
black abyss. And yet, oh joy! gradually the films faded from my eyes,
the mysterious power lifted its spell from my brain. I felt more like
myself.
I saw clearer. My step grew firmer. Now, at last, thought I, all is
going well!
When, suddenly, a long, blue-gray streak of light flashed along over the
heads of the hills in the far distant eastern sky. It was the signal of
morning!
Again, with a groan I sank on my knees, caught myself, rose half-dazed,
pressed on again, slowly, slowly, every step jarring on my heated brain
like a hammer’s blow; but still onward, onward!
A terrible grip as of some giant hand—palm of iron and fingers of
steel—set itself on my very vitals. The thought that even now my escape
was known to my enemies, that the phantom Wind Eaters, armed with their
nets and clubs, were flitting out of the streets of chief
Ztwish-Ztwish’s village, charged to carry me back alive to a worse death
than death itself, or slay me for having broken faith and set the face
of honesty over my fraud and deceit, seemed to paralyze my limbs and rob
me of the little strength I had left.
Still on and ever onward I struggled, like one in the dull stupor of the
wine cup. Fast! ah, too fast that streak of gray dawn lengthened and
widened and the orb of day shot up through the morning shadows a
messenger of light here and there, now weak and fitful, now stronger and
farther reaching.
I saw them, ay, I felt them, for in my dread of them they seemed to
flash toward me and strike my half closed eyes, as if knocking at the
windows of my soul and rousing me to move out of death’s harm.
For a brief moment I halted as if expecting some fond, familiar voice to
ring in my ears.
It came.
It was the gentle baroness, my mother! Gently, softly, sweetly, that
well-known voice came floating on the morning air bidding me take heart,
calling me by name just as in childhood’s days, and saying: “My baby! my
boy! my son! my darling! Rouse thee! Press on! Press on quickly!” And
then I took heart.
The fearful clamp set on my breast relaxed its hold.
I could feel my strength returning. But oh, so slowly, so slowly! Still,
it was on its way back at last! I could feel my feet grow lighter. With
some effort I quickened my pace almost to a run.
On, on, I sped, now every instant giving me new strength, every motion
sending the warm blood tingling to my fingers’ ends.
The spell had been lifted! I was myself again!
Swifter, and swifter my pace quickened until I flew along as in days of
old, when with ease I left all comers far behind me!
Methought I could almost hear the plash of the waves on the snow-white
sands of that beautiful harbor where my good ship lay.
On, and ever onward, I sped with a new and mysterious strength. I was
astounded at my own deeds. I was almost afraid, so fast I was bounding
along, lest again some demon of the air should touch my limbs and stay
my course.
But hark! Didn’t you hear that deep rumble?
The sky is clear. It cannot have been the voice of the storm fiend.
Ha! again, deeper and clearer than before, that hoarse, low, muttering
rumble, half-roar, half-growl comes borne along on the wings of the
awakened breeze.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
It is the cry of the pursuers, it is the voice of the enemy!
Those children of the air are on my track. They follow me with leap and
jump. What madness to think to outrun them. Let me halt and die like a
man! Look how they bound along over the plain!
Swift and noiseless are their steps, phantoms that they are!
I halt. I turn. I grasp my fire-arm! Too late! A score of entangling
nets envelope me! I struggle only to entwine myself the more, arms,
hands, legs, feet, are twisted in wretched confusion.
I sway, fall, roll over, wrapped ’round and ’round in that dreadful
tangle!
And now down upon my defenceless body comes a rain of sharp, stinging
blows. Deep rumbling cries fill the air and keep time in a wild way with
the showers of blows rained on my face and head and hands.
As they continue they seem to increase in strength.
The pain, bearable at first, now becomes excruciating.
The light goes out of my eyes, swollen shut as they are beneath this
cruel pelting.
A thousand ringing sounds assail my ears.
My brain reels—I am going—going—dying—
When, hark again!
You can not hear it! Your ears would not know it! But mine do! Mine do!
’Tis Bulger’s bark and I am saved! Faster and faster the Wind Eaters ply
their clubs.
I do not heed them. I do not feel them now, for nearer and nearer comes
that joyous music.
’Tis here!
I’m strong again. I rise half up—my lips move—I speak—I cry out: “Quick,
good Bulger, or all is lost!” A single glance at the terrible plight of
his little master tells him all. With a howl of rage, his dark eyes
shooting flame, he throws himself upon the heels of the Wind Eaters. His
sharp teeth pierce like needles!
Crack!
Again and again he sends his fangs through the skin of a Wind Eater.
Crack! Crack!
Their clubs cease swinging. A cry of horror goes up, as for the fourth
time good Bulger’s teeth pierces the heel of a Wind Eater and sends his
body with a loud report to vanish into thin air.
They turn; they break away in wild dismay; they fly for their lives,
casting away their clubs and abandoning their victim. I could see no
more.
It grew black, a vertigo seized me. I tried to free my hands to touch my
loved Bulger, for death, I thought, had come!
* * * * *
When life came back Bulger was licking my hands and face and whining
piteously. He had gnawed the netting free from the limbs of his little
master.
With a cry of joy and a brust of tears, I caught that faithful, loving
creature to my breast.
At that instant, distant shouts came floating over the hills. They came
from my sailing-master and his relief party.
I could not answer. But Bulger raised his head and sent forth a few
sharp barks to tell them where we were.
In a short half hour they were at my side.
[Illustration: AS I APPEARED THE DAY AFTER MY RESCUE BY BULGER.]
After my bruised face and hands had been bathed in cool water and I had
swallowed a few mouthfuls of wine, I felt strong enough to get on my
feet and move slowly forward.
Bulger walked proudly by my side, pausing ever and anon to look me in
the face, meaning to ask:
“How goes it with thee, little master?” Once on shipboard, strengthened
by good food and cheered by the comforts of my cabin, I was not long in
getting my health back again. After a week’s rest, I gave orders to
weigh anchor and turn our good ship’s head northward, for I was anxious,
very anxious to see the elder baron and the gentle baroness, my mother,
and tell them all about the wonderful things I had seen.