The Hot Swamp - Robert Michael Ballantyne (debian ebook reader TXT) 📗

Maker of all defends you, for it is a dread--a terrible--disease that no strength can resist or youth throw off. It undermines the health and eats the flesh off the bones, renders those whom it attacks horrible to look at, and in the end it kills them. But it is possible that you may not yet have caught the infection, poor lad, so you must keep away from me now, and let not a finger touch me henceforth. Your life, I say, may depend on it."

"I will obey you as to that," replied Cormac, "now that you are beginning to recover, but I must still continue to put food and water within your reach."

"Be it so," rejoined the prince, turning away with a slight groan, for his excitement not less than the conversation had exhausted him. In a few minutes more he was asleep with an expression of profound anxiety stereotyped on his countenance.

It was not long after the fever left him that returning strength enabled Bladud to crawl out of his hut, and soon after that he was able to ramble through the woods in company with Cormac, and with Brownie--that faithful friend who had lain by his master's side during all his illness. The sparkling river gladdened the eyes, and the bracing air and sunshine strengthened the frame of the prince, so that with the cheerful conversation of Cormac and the gambols of his canine friend he was sometimes led to forget for a time the dark cloud that hung over him.

One day he was struck by something in the appearance of his dog, and, sitting down on a bank, he called it to him. After a few minutes' careful examination he turned to Cormac with a look of deep anxiety.

"My boy," he said, "I verily believe that the hound is smitten with my own complaint. In his faithful kindness he has kept by me until I have infected him."

"That cannot be," returned Cormac, "for, during my rambles alone, when you were too ill to move, I saw that a great many of the pigs were affected by a skin disease something like that on the dog, and, you know, you could not have infected the pigs, for you have never touched them."

Bladud's anxiety was not removed but deepened when he heard this, for he called to remembrance the occasion when he had rescued one of the little pigs and carried it for some distance in his arms.

"And, do you know," continued the lad, "I have observed a strange thing. I have seen that many of the pigs, affected with this complaint, have gone down to the place where the hot waters rise, and, after bathing there, have returned all covered with mud, and these pigs seem to have got better of the disease, while many of those which did not go down to the swamp have died."

"That is strange indeed," returned the prince; "I must see to this, for if these waters cure the pigs, why not the dog?"

"Ay," rejoined Cormac, "and why not the man?"

"Because my disease is well known to be incurable."

"Are you sure?"

"We can hardly be sure of anything, not even of killing our mid-day meal," rejoined the prince. "See, there goes a bird that is big enough to do for both of us. Try your hand."

"That will be but losing an opportunity, for, as you know, I am not a good marksman," returned the youth, fitting an arrow quickly to his bow nevertheless, and discharging it. Although the bird in question was large and not far off, the arrow missed the mark, but startled the bird so that it took wing. Before it had risen a yard from the ground, however, an arrow from Bladud's bow transfixed it.

That night, after the bird had been eaten, when Brownie was busy with the scraps, and Cormac had retired to his couch in the firewood booth, Bladud lay in his hut unable to sleep because of what he had heard and seen that day. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast"--not less in the olden time than now. At all events it welled up in the breast of the royal outcast with unusual power as he waited anxiously for the first dawn of day.

Up to this time, although living within a few miles of it, the prince had not paid more than one or two visits to the Hot Swamp, because birds and other game did not seem to inhabit the place, and the ground was difficult to traverse. He had, of course, speculated a good deal as to the cause of the springs, but had not come to any conclusions more satisfactory than have been arrived at by the scientific minds of modern days. That heat of some sort was the cause applied in one fashion or another to the water so as to make it almost boil he had no manner of doubt, but what caused the heat he could not imagine, and it certainly did not occur to him that the interior of the earth was a lake of fire-- the lovely world of vision being a mere crust. At least, if it did, he was never heard to say so.

But now he went down to the swamp with a renewed feeling of hope that gave fresh impulse to his heart and elasticity to his tread.

Arrived at the place, he observed that numbers of his porcine family were there before him. On seeing him they retreated with indignant grunts--their hasty retreat being accelerated by a few remarks from Brownie.

Making his way to what he believed to be the main fountain of the spring, the prince and the dog stood contemplating it for some time. Then the former dipped his hand in, but instantly withdrew it, for he found the water to be unbearably hot. Following its course, however, and testing it as he went along, he soon came to a spot where the temperature was sufficiently cool to render it agreeable. Here, finding a convenient hole big enough to hold him, he stripped and bathed. Brownie, who seemed much interested and enlivened by his master's proceedings, joined him on invitation, and appeared to enjoy himself greatly. Thereafter they returned home to breakfast and found Cormac already up and roasting venison ribs before the fire.

"I thought you were still sound asleep in your hut," he said in surprise, as they came up, "and I have been doing my best to make little noise, for fear of awaking you. Have you been bathing at the springs? I see the hound's coat is muddy."

"Thanks for your care, Cormac. Ay, we have indeed had a bath--Brownie and I. You see I have taken your advice, and am trying the pigs' cure."

"Right, Bladud. Wiser men have learned lessons from pigs."

"Are you not presumptuous, my lad, to suggest that there may be a wiser man than I?"

"Truly, no, for taking the advice of a mere stripling like me, is not a sign of wisdom in a man."

"In the present case you are perhaps right, but there are some striplings whose wisdom is sufficient to guide men. However, I will hope that even you, with all your presumption, may be right this time."

"That encourages me to offer additional advice," retorted the lad with a laugh, "namely, that you should devote your attention to these ribs, for you will find them excellent, and even a full-grown man can hardly fail to know that without food no cure can be effected."

"You are right, my boy. Sit down and set me an example, for youth, not less than age, must be supported."

Without more words they set to work, first throwing a bone to the hound, in order, as Bladud remarked, that they might all start on equal terms.

From that day the health of the prince began to mend--slowly but steadily the spot on his arm also began to diminish and to assume a more healthy aspect. Brownie also became convalescent, and much to the joy of Bladud, Cormac showed no symptoms of having caught the disease. Still, as a precaution, they kept studiously apart, and the prince observed--and twitted the boy with the fact--that the more he gained in health, and the less danger there was of infection, the more anxious did he seem to be to keep away from him!

Things were in this state when, one evening, they received a visit-- which claims a new chapter to itself.


CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.


IN WHICH VERY PERPLEXING EVENTS OCCUR.

The visitor referred to in the last chapter was a tall, broad-shouldered old man with a snowy head of hair and a flowing white beard, a long, loose black garment, and a stout staff about six feet long.

Cormac had gone to a spring for water at the time he arrived, and Bladud was lying on his back inside his hut.

"Is any one within?" demanded the stranger, lifting a corner of the curtain.

"Enter not here, whoever you are!" replied the prince quickly, springing up--"stay--I will come out to you."

"You are wonderfully inhospitable," returned the stranger, as the prince issued from the hut and stood up with an inquiring look which suddenly changed to one of astonishment.

"Beniah!" he exclaimed.

"Even so," replied the Hebrew, holding out his hand, but Bladud drew back.

"What! will you neither permit me to enter your house nor shake your hand? I was not so churlish when you visited my dwelling."

"You know well, old man, that I do not grudge hospitality, but fear to infect you."

"Yes, I know it well," rejoined the Hebrew, smiling, "and knowing that you were here, I turned aside on my journey to inquire as to your welfare."

"I have much to say about my welfare and strange things to tell you, but first let me know what has brought you to this part of the land--for if you have turned aside to see me--seeing me has not been your main object."

"You are right. Yet it pleases me well to use this opportunity, and to see by your looks and bearing, that the disease seems to have been arrested."

"Yes, thanks be to the All-seeing One, I am well, or nearly so. But proceed to explain the reason of your journey."

"The cause of it is the unaccountable disappearance of the girl named Branwen."

"What! she who is the bosom friend of my sister Hafrydda?"

"The same. She had fled, you may remember, from your father's court for fear of being compelled to wed with Gunrig, the chief whose crown you cracked so deftly on the day of your arrival. She, poor thing, took refuge at first with me. I hid her for some time--"

"Then," interrupted the prince, "she must have been hidden in your hut at the time of my visit!"

"She was. But that was no business of yours."

"Surely it was, old man, for my father's business is my business."

"Yea, but it was not my business to enlighten you, or the king either, while I had reason to know that he meant unduly to coerce the maiden. However, there she was hidden, as I tell you. Now, you are aware that Branwen's father Gadarn is a great chief, whose people live far away in the