A SHAMAN RAID
That afternoon I rode out with Milos to look at some of his men, and
as we rode he talked to me about his people and about their wonderful
cliff-girt land, for Nature, not content with setting the great desert
around Sakaeland, had girdled it further with a precipitous wall of
cliff, that now higher, now lower, circles the whole country. There
being no incentive to make a way down to the desert, none has ever been
made, as doubtless would have happened had the surrounding country been
fertile instead of being hundreds of miles of trackless sand-dunes.
The Sakae impressed me more and more. They were not unlike Pathans in
their free independence, but it was tempered with a certain respect
for authority which I have never seen out of England or the countries
sprung from her, since it was by no means the servile respect of
subject races. As we rode back to the city there was a good deal of
traffic coming in--horsemen, bullock-waggons, droves of cattle, and
sheep. Between the in and out gates stood a tall, yellow-haired archer
on duty directing the stream. He did not shout or gesticulate or beat
folk ineffectively after the manner of the East. He just spoke quietly
to all, but, whether they were coarse-clad bullock-drivers, or chiefs
in mail with mounted retinues, they did exactly as he told them.
Watching him as we halted for a moment to let an outcoming drove of
sheep pass, I could not help thinking that, in spite of the great grey
gates, with the mail-clad bowmen sliding to and fro on top, their arms
glittering in the sun, the quaint, heavily laden bullock-waggons, the
loose-smocked men and the full-skirted, bareheaded women, the droves
of cattle along the sunlit poplar-lined road, there was hardly any
difference between the mail-clad archer’s and the crowd’s common
atmosphere and that to be observed around any blue-coated policeman at
any busy plate-glass-fronted corner in London.
Just as we reached the cross-roads near the place there was a stir and
a bustle on the far side, and out through the crowd rode Stephnos,
Wrexham, and their men. The people seemed excited, and as we drew
nearer I saw that the party looked weary, their horses tucked up, and
mud splashed more than a simple road journey justified. But when we
met, I understood, for some of the men had blood on their mail; one,
with his arm swathed in a blood-clotted bandage, was being supported
in the saddle by a comrade, while two mounted men were leading horses
whose empty saddles were hung with mail and gear.
Evidently they had found the enemy.
“Hulloa, John,” said I as Milos greeted Stephnos, the crowd surging
about us seeking news from the men. “You seem to have bumped them all
right. What’s happened?”
“Hulloa, Harry; didn’t recognize you in that get-up. Raid. D----d
swine! However, we caught ’em in the end, eight miles over the border,
and dusted the floor with them pretty usefully. Firoz is chucking a
hell of a chest because he laid out six to his own gun, all stiffs,
too. That mail shirt is off one of them.”
I remarked Firoz then--in a mail shirt--riding with an N.C.O., who
was talking rapidly to a tall, red-haired, brown-skirted girl holding
his stirrup leather. By the flat silver bangle above her right elbow
I judged she was his wife, a conjecture which proved correct. The
unmarried women among the Sakae wear no bangles above the right elbow,
while the engaged girls have a little thin one of silver wire.
The crowd pressed about them listening, and I could see them looking at
Firoz, his rifle slung across his saddle bow, with admiring eyes; and,
as the speaker stopped and pointed to Firoz’s rifle, the red-haired
girl and the women near clapped their hands softly.
Milos and Stephnos rode on, and we followed them, many of the crowd,
especially the women and above all the small urchins, moving with us.
“D----d glad we’re going to have a biff at the Shaman blokes,” said
Wrexham. “After what I’ve seen to-day, I’m all for wiping them out.
Tell you about it as soon as I’ve washed the dust out of my throat.”
We clattered into the great courtyard and dismounted, the men riding
on to their quarters with Firoz among them, the red-haired girl still
walking by the big N.C.O. Wrexham and Stephnos went off to wash,
demanding instant food and drink, especially drink. Milos and I joined
them later in the big dining-hall, where they were taking the edge off
their appetite with bread and cold meat; and while Stephnos, between
mouthfuls, recounted the story to Milos, Wrexham gave me his version.
“After we’d had breakfast at Aornos yesterday,” said Wrexham, refilling
his glass, “we rode on ten miles or so to a frontier fort--place called
Takos, very much like the one we went to the first day.
“Stephnos asked me if I’d care to come, and I went, as I wanted to
see a bit more of the country. Also he said that there were enemy
reported in the vicinity, and I’d not seen any live Shamans so far. He
took twenty men with him, and I took Firoz along in case we ran into
anything, when a second rifle would be handy.
“When we got to Takos, the fellow commanding there said that there was
nothing doing as yet, but that some friendly Green Sakae had come in
and reported having seen Shaman horsemen moving about in their country.
“The afternoon was getting on by that time, for we’d not gone very
fast, and so Stephnos decided to stop there, and the bloke in charge
fixed us all up for the night.
“It was a regular mediæval sort of a show--rather like what you’ve told
me about the Punjab frontier. They shut the place up at dusk, and after
the evening meal we went up on top of the keep and talked a bit. There
was a big beacon in an iron cage stacked ready for lighting, and a
small pot of burning charcoal and torches all handy.
“The sentries were along the parapet, four of ’em with their bows and
half a dozen arrows laid out ready on the coping. Seemed a businesslike
crowd with good discipline.
“Stephnos told me if nothing occurred we’d ride straight here in
the morning, after he’d looked around a bit. I fancy he was hoping
something would happen. He’s a bit of a thruster, Master Stephnos, and
I could see he was itching to push a sword into some one. Good lad
that.”
He looked across at Stephnos, who was talking to his uncle, the last
rays of the sinking sun sweeping through the window on to his young
keen face, with the dancing blue eyes--very steady now, though, as he
talked--and the bobbed yellow locks. Save for the different colouring
and the masculine features, he was amazingly like Aryenis.
“Well, we went down and turned in, for it gets pretty parky now after
dark. I talked a little to Stephnos, but it’s not too easy as yet. I
wish I could patter Greek like you birds. However, we were both pretty
sleepy, and it didn’t take us long to get off.
“Somewhere about four we woke up, hearing a lot of noise upstairs.
Then down came one of the men with a lantern and jabbered something to
Stephnos, who jumped out of bed and started pulling on his kit.
“I asked him what was up, and he said that the sentries reported fire
in the distance. We hurried on our clothes and ran upstairs. There
we found the officer man and several N.C.O.’s all looking out to the
north, where some miles away--we were on a bit of hill--there was a big
flare in the sky.
“They bucked a bit--which, of course, I couldn’t understand--and then
Stephnos told me they thought it was a raid.
“About ten minutes later we heard horses’ hoofs on the stones below,
and then the sentries at the lower gate challenged. Then we heard the
gate being opened, and after that men coming up the stone stairs.
“They came up into the light of the torches on the platform below
us, a couple of soldiers and another chap--a local by the look of
him--splashed with mud and covered with dust, and still breathing hard.
“He talked to the officer for about half a minute, and then an N.C.O.,
who was listening, ran to the beacon with a torch and lit it. Soaked in
oil, I fancy, for it went up in a blaze straight off.
“The officer turned and said something to Stephnos, and they talked for
a few seconds and then the officer shouted out some orders, an N.C.O.
blew a whistle, down below from the lower gate some one sounded a horn,
and then I heard the men below turning out. Pretty slick they were, for
five minutes later, looking down from the parapet, I saw them leading
out the horses. The whole place was red light now from the blazing
beacon.
“I asked Stephnos what was up, and he said an enemy party had got
through the line of posts and raided a village about six miles
away--the one we could see blazing. The man who had just galloped in
was a watchman from the next village. They seemed to have a regular
system of alarm-posts, for five minutes after our beacon went up there
were two more twinkling away to the south of us.
“Stephnos said he was taking his men and twenty more from the fort
and going off at once to the village. Firoz had come up by this time,
anxious to know what it was all about, so I told him to come along, too.
“Ten minutes later we were in the saddle and away down the track. It
was too dark to canter; there was only just the last bit of the moon.
“The dawn was breaking when we got close to the village, and Stephnos
checked a minute while his scouts nosed round. Then one of them came
galloping back and said something to him, and we pushed on again.
“He told me the enemy had gone, and the scouts were out on the far side
of the village. It was just light enough to see as we rode in, but the
glare of the burning ricks, and the light from such of the thatched
roofs as had not fallen in, gave us enough to see without the daylight.
“Stephnos’s horse shied at a dead man lying across the path, and then
we pulled up in the middle of the village.
“Quite a small place--a few houses, most of ’em of mud bricks with
thatched roofs, the usual crowd of cattle-shelter and some wooden
barns, now well alight.
“The enemy had wrecked it pretty usefully. About everything that could
burn was burning. The men were looking around for some one alive, but
it was a long time before they found anything but stiff ’uns. The
Shaman seem to be pretty fair devils. I counted a dozen dead bodies
lying near me, including three women, and I expect there were more in
the houses. One of them had a kid, too--quite dead.
“Then two of the men came up leading an old dame with white hair, whom
they’d found hiding somewhere. The poor old soul was in a frightful
state, of course. But she recovered a bit after Stephnos spoke to her,
and told him that the raiders had not been gone long. I noticed one of
the fellows with her was pretty agitated, and I discovered afterwards
that he was one of the men from the fort and his girl was in the
village--poor devil. He was pretty near off his head when we’d done
searching the place and found no more people alive.
“Then Stephnos started us off again. The lad was breathing hard through
his teeth. I don’t think he’d seen much of this sort of thing, and he
was white hot to catch up with the swine.
“We pushed on over the border, and just after the sun rose ran into a
little group of Green Sakae, rather harried-looking, hiding in some
undergrowth. They told us that a party of Shaman raiders, about a
hundred, with some women, had passed some time before--going toward the
Shaman country, they thought.
“We went on, and before we’d gone another mile we saw one of the scouts
off his horse standing by the roadside. When we reached him the fellow
I’d noticed before with the old woman, who was riding just behind
Stephnos and me, gave a great cry, leapt off his pony, and went down on
his knees by the scout, who I then saw was standing by a woman’s body
under a little bank. As we pulled up I saw she’d had a spear or a knife
driven in under her ribs.
“We all stood back a bit, then, when we understood. The scout got on
his horse and cantered off after the others. The men were all pretty
mad when we left the village, but this stopped them talking altogether.
I could see them fiddling with their sword-hilts.
“It was full daylight now, and the hills stood out clear ahead in the
rising sun, and there in front of us the man on his knees _talking_ to
the girl. Then Stephnos, who was off his horse, stepped up to him and
said something, signalling to the rest of us to ride on.
“A minute later he came up--his face rather white--and halted us.
“‘There is only one path they can take here through the hills. There
is a forest ahead, and I’m going to try and get in front. They cannot
move very fast with the women. They’re stronger than we probably, from
what we heard, and may hold us off and get away. But if we can get to
the pass first we can shoot them down in an ambush, and then they won’t
have time to hurt the women.’
“Then he turned off the track and struck across country at a canter. As
we went off, the man whose girl had been killed came up and joined us,
and I saw that he had a thick lock of her hair knotted about his wrist.
He rode without speaking, looking straight ahead. We went hard about
six miles through some woods, and came out at the foot of the hills
with one of the fort men guiding us.
“There was nothing much moving in the country, and we passed near no
villages. We went on up into the hills; they were low ones, covered
with scrubby bushes and small thorn-trees, dotted about with bigger
trees above.
“At last we came back on to the road, where it ran into a steepish
sort of place rather like a cutting with high banks, only natural. The
guide ran down on to the road, and I saw he was looking for tracks, but
as he found none we knew we were ahead of the enemy.
“Then Stephnos started laying an ambush for them. The horses were led
away beyond us into some thick stuff, and tethered to the trees in a
dip below us. Then he put out twenty men, some on either side of the
road up to where it dipped down again, all of them hidden among the
trees and bushes.
“‘Will you and your man stop here? You can kill with your weapons as
they come up. But let them get well into the trap. I with the rest will
be hidden a little way down the hill, so as to get in behind them.’
“Then he disappeared.
“We waited about half an hour, and then the lookout fellow reported
that the raiders were approaching. From where I was I could get a good
view of the road below us for about five hundred yards. Firoz was just
beside me, and on either hand were the men, each with his bow ready,
very quiet.
“We heard the noise of horses in front, and then the party came round
the turn at a walk, some riding, some on foot. There were mounted men
in mail shirts in front with a couple of scouts ahead, but not far
enough. I suppose they thought they were safe now in the Green Sakae
country. Anyway, they walked slap into it as we lay doggo.
“They were pretty close when I heard Stephnos’s horn sound, and there
was sudden confusion among the packed men in the road. Then, as the
fellows on either side leapt up and opened with their bows, Firoz and I
let drive at the two scouts, who were a bare fifty yards from us.
“That part lasted a very few minutes. I suppose the first twenty men
went down. They were all in a heap bristling with arrows, the horses
kicking and plunging. A few tried to gallop up to the top of the rise,
and Firoz and I had a pretty minute’s rapid into them. None of them got
within fifty yards of us except two loose horses, and another dragging
its rider, who got through us and disappeared. Then we heard the fun
beginning on Stephnos’s side, and the N.C.O. shouted something. The
next minute we were down the slope and going for them.
“These Blue Sakae are real peaches. I’ve never seen fellows go in so
quick. The Shamans tried to collect, but what with wounded horses
careering round and arrows still coming down from the men on the
flanks, we were into them before they could form. Just as we got to the
bottom I caught sight of Stephnos’s fellows coming down beyond them,
and saw some women at the back.
“There were really only fifty-odd enemy--we counted fifty-two after,
and I don’t think any got away, and we knocked over nearly thirty
before we started down, while Stephnos’s fellows were shooting after
that. When we got in there was a pretty little scurry.
“A big hook-nosed fellow came for me--I’d taken to my pistol now--and
I pushed him over. Just to my right was the N.C.O. hard at it sword to
sword with a man in a leather coat. Then the N.C.O. got home, and the
chap sort of fell over him in a heap. While he was trying to clear his
sword another raider rushed him with a knife.
“I couldn’t lend a hand at the moment, as I was busy with a
black-bearded fellow, who materialized on my left with a sword, and I
thought the N.C.O. was a goner.
“I blew my gentleman’s face in at about three feet, and his sword
ripped my sleeve up and scratched my arm as he caught it and crumpled.
Next time I go to one of these beanos I’m borrowing a mail shirt.”
He held up his arm, and I saw then that his coat-sleeve was ripped up
and the shirt below all mottled with blood.
“I didn’t notice that. Is it deep?”
“No; nothing. Tied it up with a handkerchief afterwards, and it stopped
at once. However, to get back to the N.C.O. As my bloke toppled
over, I saw Firoz’s rifle-barrel come over the N.C.O.’s shoulder as
he struggled to get his sword clear. The new man was just lunging
when Firoz sort of blew him away from the muzzle. He spun round and
collapsed with most of the back of his head missing.
“The next thing that happened was my running into Stephnos, with a
white set face, blood all over his sword and arm, looking round for
something more to kill, so I gathered the show was about over.
“There was a worry going on under the bank, where two of the enemy had
got their backs to a big rock, and four of our fellows were finishing
them. Beyond us some of the men were freeing the women, who were tied
to the horses. Luckily none of them had got hit, and the enemy had been
too rushed to hurt them. Others were tying up wounded men, and some
more were holding prisoners. The whole place was littered with bodies
of men and horses, many with arrows sticking in ’em.
“I looked round for the soldier whose girl had been killed, and
presently I found him. He was on top of a big fellow in a mail shirt,
and he had his teeth in the man’s throat. By his side was his sword,
broken off below the hilt. A couple of men were pulling him clear as I
came up.
“They lifted him off--the Shaman was dead as mutton--and looked him
over, and he came to as they did. He had taken something in the body,
I think the Shaman’s sword, and he was pretty near gone, but we tried
to fix him up. I think he had gone right off his head, for he lay
there taking no notice of us, and talking to some one we couldn’t see,
stroking the lock of hair round his wrist and smiling. Stephnos, who
came up in the middle, said he was still talking to the girl. I hope he
was really. He looked as if he could see her until his eyes shut, and
then in another minute he was gone.
“The men had seven live prisoners, five of them wounded. The rest
were all dead, and if Stephnos hadn’t stopped his men they would have
finished these fellows, too. Personally, after what I’d seen, _I_
wouldn’t have stopped them, and I wondered why he did. I understood
afterwards.
“There were six women and a certain amount of gear on the pack-horses.
We gathered up the enemy’s mail and weapons and such ponies as were
worth keeping. Then we mounted the women on the quietest ones and
started back.
“We reached the village again about midday, for Stephnos was in a hurry
to get back. We had lost four fellows killed and four more pretty badly
wounded, as well as lighter cases; but we got off cheap, considering
we’d killed forty-five of them. Of course, the arrows and the rifles
laid out the majority of them straight off.
“We brought the dead and wounded back on the horses; had to strap ’em
on. When we got to the village, we found it full of troops from the
fort clearing up the mess, and men from the surrounding villages, as
well as some of the villagers, who’d managed to get away in the dark
when the raid happened. They had got the fires pretty well under, and
had found some burnt bodies in the burnt-out houses.
“As I said, the Shamans are fair swine.
“We found an elderly white-haired gent in charge, who greeted us as
we rode in. Stephnos introduced me, and told me he was the chief of
those parts. We halted a bit there, and Stephnos handed him over the
prisoners, since the raid was in his district.
“The old gent had them marched up to where the bodies were laid out.
Then he got hold of six of the oldest men present--sort of jury, I
fancy--and they stood in a row behind him. He talked to the prisoners a
little--the soldiers had their work cut out keeping the villagers off
them--and I think he was questioning them, but they didn’t seem to have
much to say.
“When he’d finished, the crowd round were listening very quietly. He
turned round after that, and spoke to his six old men, asking them
something, and they all nodded in turn.
“Then he turned his hand over--so--and the guard, who’d been standing
handy with ropes, ran the prisoners up to the nearest trees without
any talkee, talkee. Good quick work. As we rode away, I saw all seven
dangling limp against the background of burnt-out houses, with the
kites wheeling round them already. I understood then why Stephnos had
brought them back. He told me that in this country justice is always
carried out on the scene of the crime, if possible, or somewhere near
it.
“I asked him if they killed all prisoners. He said no; but this was
murder, not war, since they had killed the women and the children. I
quite agreed with him. After finding that wretched girl on the road,
I’d have stood by and watched even if he’d wanted to boil ’em alive in
oil.
“We dropped the fort detachment and one of our men, who was rather bad,
at the village--the rest of the badly wounded belonged to the fort
people--and came on here as fast as we could go. The horses were a bit
done by that time, and we had an hour’s halt on the way.
“It was quite a bright little show one way and another, and young
Stephnos has the makings of a very useful soldier. He handled the
ambush business a treat, and brought his men in pretty nippy when we
rushed them. And that’s our story. What have you been doing? You’ve got
no end of a rig-out. And where’s Alec?”
I told him of our adventures, the little matter of the Shaman envoy,
and the various things I heard since we parted the previous morning.
“By the way,” I finished, “I’ve met Ziné--the lady of the picture.
She’s here now.”
“Is she as nice-looking as the picture?” asked Wrexham.
“Yes, quite, I should say, although I’ve not seen it of late.”
Milos turned to us, speaking slowly in Greek:
“Your friend was fortunate this morning, it seems, getting off with
only a scratch. It was good work catching the whole party of raiders.
In one way the raid is fortunate, since, if there be any of our people
doubtful about the wisdom of making war, this will show them its
necessity. It is the first time the Shamans have entered our borders on
such a scale.”
“When is the council to be held?” I asked.
“To-morrow before midday in the great hall. Perhaps you and your
friends would like to come, although you will not be able to understand
the talk, since it will be in our own language. But Stephnos will be
able to tell you what we are saying.”
“We should like to come very much if we may,” I said.
Just at that moment horses clattered up in the dusk outside, and we
heard shouting and trample of feet. Then horses being led away and
voices, and Kyrlos and Forsyth came in. The former, who had heard
something of the raid on his way in, was anxious for details, and
Stephnos had to tell the story all over again as Kyrlos sat warming his
feet at the fire. He was very pleased at the account, and congratulated
Stephnos, and also Wrexham for his share in the day’s work.
Then the others went away to change their travel and battle-stained
clothes, and Kyrlos and I were left by the fire. He looked at my mail,
and smiled in his slow way.
“I called on Paulos for a few minutes as I rode by this morning,” he
said, “and he told me he had fitted you out in his old mail. It suits
you well, and if you bear it as bravely as he did, you will have much
honour. I have ordered gear for your friends and your men, which will
be ready to-morrow. If you ride in our wars, it is but fitting that we
should arm you after our fashion.”
“They will be very pleased, Kyrlos, I am sure. Wrexham told me just now
that he would like mail in the next fight, and his man already wears
some that he took from a Shaman he killed.”
“Yes. We picked up two of Stephnos’s men on the road, who told us
something of what happened. They were very full of talk of your friend
and his man. The latter apparently saved the life of Stephnos’s head
N.C.O., and it was seen by several. My people set great store by such
matters, considering them greater passports to consideration than birth
or wealth.”
“Our people are also of the same mind. Indeed, Kyrlos, the more I see
of the Sakae, the more I think of my own folk. When there is more time
I must ride over and talk with Paulos, who, it seems, has many old
books. I think there must be some kinship between your folk and mine
from the old, old days.”
“He will be pleased to have one with whom he can talk of the past, for
he is a great student. But ’tis time we changed, I think. Certain of
our chiefs will eat with us to-night.”
When I went up to our rooms I found Forsyth listening enviously to
Wrexham’s story. Also Firoz--still in his captured mail--outside the
door chatting to Payindah, and the latter lamenting that he had not
taken the trouble to collect a mail shirt in the gate. Both, however,
were rejoicing at the opportunity of striking another blow at the
Shamans, to whom they had taken the most violent dislike. They cheered
up still further when I told them that they would get new clothes next
day, for in their faded frayed khaki and worn _poshtins_ they were not
able to swagger nearly as much as their hearts desired.