Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 34

"But it's horribly dark still," said Marcus, rather wearily, "and the snow seems as deep."

"Not it," cried Serge. "And see how it's trampled down. Then it isn't so cold."

"Not so cold!" cried Marcus. "Why, it's terrible!"

"Not it! Why, since we have been coming down a bit we have got more into shelter, and that cutting wind that came up the pa.s.s isn't whistling about one's ears."

"Well, no," said Marcus. "That is better."

"Better, yes; and so's everything else. It won't be long now before the pa.s.s widens ever so much, and we shall begin to leave the snow behind; and then as soon as we get on to level ground the captain will get his horse to work to drive the barbarians back towards the plains below, and then--you'll see that our turn will come."

"To fight, Serge?"

"Yes, boy. He'll be letting loose his chariots then, and when he does, the fighting will be over for to-day."

"For to-day!" said Marcus, with a faint laugh.

"Well, yes, it must be getting towards morning, and before many hours we shall be seeing the sun again, and if we are lucky have made a jump out of winter into spring. But there, keep up your spirits, boy. I can see a good breakfast ahead, and a long sleep in the sunshine waiting for us down below when we have cleared these flies out of our path. They are a worry now, but you'll see before long."

Marcus was destined to see more than his old companion antic.i.p.ated during the next few hours, and events began to crowd rapidly one upon another's heels.

Their advance was no sooner strengthened by the foot-men who had been so long inactive while crossing the pa.s.s, than changes began to occur, foremost among which was the progress forward, the little force now pressing steadily on downward.

It was wintry and dark and the fighting was still going on with the enemy, who were slowly giving way, while to balance this the attack on the rear was still kept up. But the pa.s.s was opening more and more, and during the next few hours the progress of the little force had been slow but steady, the first rays of the sun shining upon the jaded men and horses halted in a sterile amphitheatre surrounded by rocks which afforded a fair amount of protection, Nature having formed the hollow with but one entrance and one exit, her instrument for carving out the depression having probably been a huge river of ice descending from the heights behind towards the plains below, of which glimpses now began to appear.

Rest was imperative, and evidently feeling that his position was far from safe, their leader had set a portion of his men to strengthen the opening front and rear by means of the ample supply of scattered rocks, many of which only needed a few well-directed thrusts to partly block up the rugged track and form an adequate defence.

This done and his foot-men disposed to the best advantage for the protection of the still crippled mounted force, it was expected by all that a few hours' rest might be obtained.

The position was bad, and their leader had intended to have pressed on downward to the plains; but the enemy in the rear had advanced so swiftly, their allies given way so stubbornly, that he was forced to seize upon the hollow which offered itself as being a natural stronghold, here to breathe his men and recruit for a few hours before making a final dash.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE CHIEF.

Marcus woke up that same evening to find himself lying back in the chariot with Lupe sitting watching him intently.

"Hallo, Lupe," said the boy, thickly; "what's the matter?"

The dog's answer was given with his tail--just one sharp rap on the floor of the vehicle, nothing more. So Marcus looked round him, feeling confused, and wondering what it all meant, for after so much exertion and excitement his brain had taken a thorough rest from which the boy's body was now awakened, but not his thinking powers.

"I don't quite understand it," he said to himself, as he caught sight of cl.u.s.ters of armed men, whose spears glittered in the evening sunshine, gathered together upon the mountain slopes around, and he soon satisfied himself that they were not Romans or any of the mercenaries whose appearance he knew.

It was easy to see, for nearer to him were his own people, one here and there perched upon some eminence, evidently on the look-out, and by running his eye along the edge of the rough amphitheatre he could trace nearly all the sentries, and at the same time note that beyond them in every ravine running downward there were hundreds of those who he at once concluded were the enemy.

"There are a great many of them," said Marcus to himself coolly, for he was not yet fully awake to his position, "and they seem to be very near; but our men appear to be ready for them, and the cavalry are standing with their horses waiting, I suppose, for orders, while--yes, the chariots! The horses are harnessed in. Are mine? Yes, and the driver ready."

Marcus had raised himself to look over the front of his chariot--a movement which excited the dog, who began to whine, and then watched his master eagerly as if to see what he would do next.

"It looks as if we are going to make a fresh start," thought Marcus; "and a good thing too, for it is chilly and cheerless; but we can't get away from here without fighting."

This last thought came with a look of excitement, for the boy's brain was growing clearer and he was rapidly grasping the fact that they were surrounded by a vast number of the enemy.

"What has become of Serge?" he said, half aloud.

The old soldier came into sight almost as he asked the question, carrying a vessel of water in one hand and something that looked like a cake of bread in the other.

"Awake, boy?" he said, as he came out. "I thought you'd be hungry when you did open your eyes, and so I managed to get this, but I've nigh had it s.n.a.t.c.hed away three times as I came back, for our fellows are getting savage for want of food. Not that it matters much, for they'll fight all the better to get down to the plains and plunder."

"Then we're going to fight, Serge?" cried Marcus, eagerly.

"Not much doubt about that, boy."

"And start downward for the plains?"

"Ah, there's a deal of doubt about that, my lad. I dare say the chief would like to, but we're regularly shut up in this rocky hole."

"But he ought not to have let the enemy shut us up, ought he?"

"It was a case of can't help it, my boy," growled Serge. "From the time we halted this morning the barbarians have been gathering round and streaming down from the mountains, till there they are, thousands upon thousands of them, hanging on the hills and running down the hollows till they look like human rivers. We were obliged to have a rest and refresh, for a man can't go on fighting and marching for ever, even if he be a Roman; and ever since we've been resting the enemy has been collecting, till they are like you see. Well, why don't you look round?"

"I did," cried Marcus, "and saw all this before you came. Then we're in a sore strait, Serge?"

"Yes, a very sore one, boy; but eat your bread."

"Not now," said Marcus, quickly. "Let me have a drink of water."

He took hold of the vessel and had a long, deep draught, one which seemed to clear away the last mental cobweb from his brain.

"Now eat a bit," said Serge, offering the cake; but the boy shook his head and swept the surroundings with anxious eyes.

"Very well," said the old soldier. "You'll be hungry by-and-by." And slipping the cake into his wallet, he looked sternly at the boy, who turned to him directly.

"Then you think that we shall not be able to cut our way out, Serge?" he said.

"Sure of it, boy. They're too many for us."

"Then what is to be done?"

"What the chief likes, boy; but if I were he I should stand fast and let the enemy hammer at us till he grows tired of losing men."

"Then you think we can beat them off?"

"Yes, boy, for a time; but we've got no stores to speak of, and even Romans can't, as I said before, or something like it, go on fighting for ever. But we shall do our best."

"Yes," said Marcus, with a sigh, as he looked thoughtfully round, unconsciously playing with the dog's ears the while, to that animal's great satisfaction. "But I don't like it, Serge."