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

On beholding the huge forms of Gadarn, Konar, and Beniah coming on in front they turned and fled like autumn leaves before a gale, without waiting even to discharge a single arrow. The courageous Addedomar was overwhelmed by the panic and carried away in the rush. Gadarn, supposing that the attack would have been made earlier and in the dark, had left the bows of his force behind, intending to depend entirely on swords and clubs. But he found that the robbers were swift of foot and that terror lent wings, for they did not overtake them at once. Down the slope went the robbers, and down went the roaring northmen, until both parties swept out upon the flat below.

They did not scatter, however. Addedomar's men had been trained to keep together even in flight, and they now made for the gully between the mounds, their chief intending to face about there and show fight on the slopes of the pass. But the flying host had barely entered it, when they were assaulted and driven back by the forces under Gunrig, who went at them with a shout that told of previous severe restraint. The fugitives could not stand it. The arrows, which even during flight were being got ready for Gadarn's host, were suddenly discharged at the men in the gully; but the aim was wild, and the only shaft which took serious effect found its billet in the breast of Gunrig himself. He plucked it savagely out and continued the charge at the head of his men.

Turning sharp to the left, the robbers then made for the lower end of the flat, still followed closely by Gadarn's band, now swelled by that of Gunrig. As had been anticipated, they almost ran into the arms of Bladud's contingent, which met them with a yell of rage, and the yell was answered by a shriek of terror.

Their retreat being thus cut off in nearly all directions, the panic-stricken crew doubled to the left again, and sprang into the swamp, closely followed by their ever-increasing foes. At first and at some distance from the fountain-head the water felt warm and grateful to the lower limbs of the fugitives, but as they plunged in deeper and nearer to the springs, it became uncomfortably hot, and they began to scatter all over the place, in the hope of finding cool water. Some who knew the locality were successful. Others, who did not know it, rushed from hot to hotter, while some, who were blindly struggling toward the source of the evil, at last began to yell with pain, and no wonder, for the temperature of the springs then--as it has been ever since, and is at the present day--was 120 degrees of Fahrenheit--a degree of heat, in water, which man is not fitted to bear with equanimity.

"Now, Konar, give them a tune from _your_ pipe," said Gadarn, whose eyes were blazing with excitement.

The hunter of the Swamp obeyed, and it seemed as though a mammoth bull of Bashan had been suddenly let loose on the fugitives.

To add to the turmoil a large herd of Bladud's pigs, disturbed from their lair, were driven into the hot water, where they swam about in a frantic state, filling the whole region with horrid yells, which, mingling with those of the human sufferers, and the incessant barking of Brownie, rendered confusion worse confounded, and caused the wild animals far and near to flee from the region as if it had become Pandemonium!

The pigs, however, unlike the men, knew how to find the cooler parts of the swamp.

Perceiving his error when he stood knee-deep in the swamp, Gadarn now sought to rectify it by sending a detachment of swift runners back for his bows and arrows. But this manoeuvre took time, and before it could be carried out the half-boiled host had gained the other side of the Swamp, and were massing themselves together preparatory to a retreat into the thick woods.

"Now is _our_ time," said Arkal, rising up and drawing his sword. Then, with a nautical shout, and almost in the words of a late warrior of note, he cried, "Up, men, and at them!"

And the men obeyed with such alacrity and such inconceivable violence, that the stricken enemy did not await the onset. They incontinently sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees with mother earth, and scooted towards the river, into which they all plunged without a moment's consideration.

Arkal and his men paused on the brink to watch the result; but the seaman was wrong about the probable fate of the vanquished, for every man of the robber band could swim like an otter, besides being in a fit condition to enjoy the cooler stream. They all reached the opposite bank in safety. Scrambling out, they took to the woods without once looking back, and finally disappeared.

During the remainder of that day Gadarn could do little else than chuckle or laugh.

Bladud's comment was that it had been "most successful."

"A bloodless victory!" remarked Beniah.

"And didn't they yell?" said Arkal.

"And splutter?" added Maikar.

"And the pigs! oh! the pigs!" cried Gadarn, going off into another explosion which brought the tears to his eyes, "it would have been nothing without the pigs!"

The gentle reader must make allowance for the feelings of men fresh from the excitement of such a scene, existing as they did in times so very remote. But, after all, when we take into consideration the circumstances; the nature of the weapons used; the cause of the war, and the objects gained, and compare it all with the circumstances, weapons, causes, and objects of modern warfare, we are constrained to admit that it was a "most glorious victory"--this Battle of the Springs.


CHAPTER THIRTY.


SMALL BEGINNINGS OF FUTURE GREAT THINGS.

There was one thing, however, which threw a cloud over the rejoicing with which the conquerors hailed this memorable victory.

Gunrig's wound turned out to be a very severe one--much more so than had been at first supposed--for the arrow had penetrated one of his lungs, and, breaking off, had left the head in it.

As Bladud was the only one of the host who possessed any knowledge of how to treat complicated wounds, he was "called in," much against the wish of the wounded man; but when the prince had seen and spoken to him, in his peculiarly soft voice, and with his gentle manner, besides affording him considerable relief, the chief became reconciled to his new doctor.

"I thought you a savage monster," said the invalid, on the occasion of the amateur doctor's third visit; "but I find you to be almost as tender as a woman. Yet your hand was heavy enough when it felled me at the games!"

"Let not your mind dwell on that, Gunrig; and, truth to tell, if it had not been for that lucky--or, if you choose, unlucky--blow, I might have found you more than my match."

The chief held out his hand, which the doctor grasped.

"I thought to kill you, Bladud; but when I get well, we shall be friends."

Poor Gunrig, however, did not from that day show much evidence of getting well. His case was far beyond the skill of his amateur doctor. It was, therefore, resolved, a day or two later, to send him home under an escort led by Beniah.

"I will follow you ere long," said Gadarn, as he grasped the hand of the invalid at parting, "for I have business at the court of King Hudibras."

Gunrig raised himself in the litter in which he was borne by four men, and looked the northern chief earnestly in the face.

"You have not yet found your daughter?" he asked.

"Well--no. At least not exactly."

"Not exactly!" repeated Gunrig in surprise.

"No; not exactly. That's all I can say at present. All ready in front there? Move on! My greetings to the king, and say I shall see him soon. What, ho! Konar, come hither! Know you where I can find Prince Bladud?"

"In his booth," replied the hunter.

"Send him to me. I would have speech with him."

When the prince entered the booth of the commander-in-chief, he found that worthy with his hands on his sides, a tear or two in his eyes, and very red in the face. He frowned suddenly, however, and became very grave on observing Bladud.

"I sent for you," he said, "to let you know my intended movements, and to ask what you mean to do. To-morrow I shall start for your father's town with all my men."

"What! and leave your daughter undiscovered?"

"Ay. Of what use is it to search any longer? There is not a hole or corner of the land that we have not ransacked. I am certain that she is not here, wherever she may be; so I must go and seek elsewhere. Wilt go with me?"

"That will not I," returned Bladud decisively.

"Wherefore? The Hebrew tells me you are cured; and your father will be glad to have you back."

"It matters not. I leave not this region until I have made a more thorough search for and found the lad Cormac, or at least ascertained his fate."

"Why so anxious about the boy? is he of kin to you?" said Gadarn in a tone that seemed to convey the slightest possible evidence of contempt.

"Ay, he is of kin," returned Bladud, warmly; "for it seems to me sometimes that friendship is a closer tie than blood. At all events, I owe my life to him. Moreover, if he has been captured by robbers, I feel assured that he will escape before long and return to me."

"Indeed! Are you, then, so sure of his affection? Has he ever dared to say that he--he is fond of you?"

"Truly, he never has; for we men of the southern parts of Albion are not prone to speak of our feelings, whatever you of the north may be. But surely you must know, chief, that the eyes, the tones, and the actions, have a language of their own which one can well understand though the tongue be silent. Besides, I do not see it to be a very daring act for one man to tell another that he is fond of him. And you would not wonder at my regard, if you only knew what a pure-minded, noble fellow this Cormac is,--so thoughtful, so self-sacrificing, for, you know, it must have cost him--it would cost any one--a terrible effort of self-denial to dwell in such a solitude as this for the sole purpose of nursing a stranger, and that stranger a doomed leper, as I thought at first, though God has seen fit to restore me."

"Nevertheless, I counsel you to come with me, prince, for I have no intention of giving up the search for my child, though I mean to carry it on in a more likely region; and who knows but we may find Cormac-- ha!" (here there was a peculiar catch in Gadarn's throat which he sought to conceal with a violent sneeze)--"ha! find Cormac in the same region!"

"That is not likely. I see no reason why two people who were lost at different times, and not, as far