Nedra Part 33

Many of their evenings, delightfully cool in contrast with the intense heat of the day, were spent on the river. The largest canoe of the village was fitted out with a broad, comfortable seat in the stern, upon which it was possible to recline lazily while several strong-armed natives paddled the craft through the shimmering, moonlit waters above the rapids.

One evening, a month after the raising of the flag, they came from the river, the night having been the most perfect they had seen, dark, sombre, picturesque. The moon was hidden behind the banks of clouds, which foretold the coming of rain, yet there was a soft, exquisite glow on land and water, as if blue-black tints were being cast from aloft by some mysterious, experimenting artist among the G.o.ds. It had been a quiet, dreamy hour for both. As they walked slowly across the little plain, followed by the oarsmen, they became cognizant of an extraordinary commotion in the village. Pootoo and a dozen men came running toward them excitedly.

"What's up, I wonder?" cried Hugh.

"It is the enemy. I know they have been sighted," she exclaimed breathlessly.

And she was right. Just before sunset the guard at the top of the gatepost had sighted the canoes of the invaders, far to the north.

According to the king, to whom the flying messenger had come, there were myriads of canoes and they were headed for a part of the beach about three leagues north of the village. It was the best place for landing along the entire coast and was, besides, the point nearest the home of the coming foe. It was evident that the enemy had miscalculated. They came within eye range of the island before darkness set in. A half an hour later and it would have been impossible to discern the boats in the gloom. By merest chance their arrival was betrayed.

"Thank G.o.d, they can't surprise us," cried Hugh after he had learned all. He was mad with excitement, burning with eagerness for the fray.

The possibility of defeat, did not enter his head, so sure was he that he and his warriors could overthrow the invaders. His brain was filled with the hope that he might some day tell the story of this battle to the fellows at his club in Chicago. He could imagine himself sitting with his heels on the window seat, relating to envious listeners the details of the fight in the pa.s.s, the repulsing of the enemy, the chase to the sh.o.r.e; the annihilation and--but no time was to be lost in dreaming of the future when the imperative present demanded so much of him.

At his side hurried the distressed, trembling young Englishwoman, her heart almost paralyzed with fear. Two or three times she tried to speak to him; once she timidly, though frantically, sought to grasp his hand to stay him in his excited rush toward the temple. Up to this moment she had been brave, even confident; now a weakness a.s.sailed her and every vestige of courage was gone. But one thought filled her mind: the possibility of disaster befalling Hugh Ridgeway.

They reached the temple and he dashed inside, going direct to his room, where the sword and daggers hung. She sank weakly upon one of the big blocks in the long corridor, leaning her head against the part.i.tion, breathing heavily, hopelessly. He, unconscious of the pain she was suffering, began to whistle joyously as he bustled about.

"Tennys," he called, "do you know what has become of my shield?"

"It is out here," she answered shrilly, her voice pitched high with the tension imposed. He came forth, tossing his sword on the ground at her feet, hastily taking the shield from a peg in the wall.

"Say, we won't see a live Ooloozer for a hundred years after the fight,"

he exploded exuberantly. "Is my army out there in front?"

"Hugh," she said piteously, following him about in the hall, "it isn't necessary for you to accompany them."

"Oh, great Scott! I wouldn't miss it for a million. I'm the biggest pig in the puddle," stopping to look at her in amazement.

"But it isn't your--our war, Hugh. Why do you risk so much? They may kill you and then--then what will become of me?"

In an instant his hilarity subsided and deep solicitude came in its stead, every particle of tenderness in his heart a.s.serting itself in response to the rueful appeal. There was a queer rushing of blood to his head, a dizziness, a great thrumming against, the drums of his ears, from all of which sprung, like lightning, the remembrance of his suspicions concerning her feelings toward him.

"You are not worried, are you? Why, there's no danger, not the slightest. We've got them whipped before the fight. I didn't think you'd lose courage. You've been so brave and confident all the time." He took her hands in his own and looked tenderly down into the wavering eyes of blue.

"It is dreadful, Hugh. I never knew how dreadful until now. I cannot bear to see you go out there to-night, perhaps never to come back. I shall die if you go!"

"But I must go, Tennys," he said firmly. "I'd rather die than be a coward. Your fears are utterly ridiculous."

His rather petulant speech caused her to withdraw her hands, her wide eyes sending a glance of wounded pride up into his. That look of reproach haunted him the whole night long. Even in the next moment he sought to withdraw the unintentional sting from his words by the gentle reminder that he would come back to her a victor and that she would be proud of him. Still the hurt eyes looked into his.

"I--I did not mean to interfere, Hugh. You must pay no attention to me.

I was selfish and absurdly afraid," she said, a trace of coldness in her voice, her manner entirely altered.

"Any woman might well be afraid at such a time," he said quickly.

"I am not afraid for myself. It is not the kind of cowardice you think it is."

"You just now wondered what would become of you if I were killed," he ventured.

"I know what will become of me if the worst should come. But I must not keep you standing here. There is much for you to do and much for me to do. You shall never again say that I am not brave. Go and fight, Hugh, and when you bring home the wounded I shall have a place to care for them all." All this was spoken rapidly and in high-pitched tones. He moved slowly toward the door, not knowing what to say or how to act at parting.

"I'll be back all right, Tennys," he said at last. "Would you care very much if--if I never came back?"

"Oh, Hugh!" was her wail. "How can you ask? What would it mean to me to be left here all alone? If you would have me brave, do not ask such questions. Go, Hugh. Good-by!"

He grasped her hand, wrung it spasmodically, glanced once in her eyes and was off toward the horde of warriors congregating in the field.

Lady Tennys steadied her swaying figure against the doorpost and looked out upon the preparations for departure. The light in her eyes had died.

CHAPTER XXVI

ON THE EVE OF BATTLE

Ridgeway looked at his watch as he drew up to the torch bearers. It was then ten minutes after ten o'clock. In all probability the entire force of the enemy had landed upon the coast and was already on its way toward the village. He realized that these savages, friend and foe, knew nothing of the finer stratagems of warfare. Their style of fighting was of the cruel kind that knows no science, no quarter. A new commander had come to revolutionize the method of warfare for at least one of the armies. It was to be a case of strategy and a new intelligence against superior forces and a surprised ferocity.

He was somewhat amazed to find that none of his troopers had attempted to leave the village before he was there to lead. This, when he thought of the eagerness and bloodthirstiness of the men, was certainly a fair promise of submissiveness on the field of battle. To be sure, the restraint was almost unendurable to the fierce fellows who had caught up their shields and spears long before he came in from the river. The excitement was intense, the jabbering frightful. Here, there, everywhere danced the frantic warriors, tossing their weapons in the air and screaming with a loyalty that savored very much of impotent rage.

"Heavens, I'd give little for a man's life if he crossed these devils to-night," thought Hugh as King Pootoo detached himself from the horde and raced unmajestically over to meet him, almost, forgetting to prostrate himself in his frenzy. Grossly exaggerated by the flare of the torches, the spectacle was enough to strike terror to the strongest heart. The king subdued himself sufficiently to grasp the meaning of Hugh's signs and set about to bring order out of chaos--a difficult task for even a king. Gradually the excitement subsided and the band stood at rest, awaiting the command to move to the hills across the river. They reminded Hugh of dogs he had seen. We all have held a chunk of meat high above a dog's nose and we have seen him sit in enforced patience, hoping for the fall thereof. And we all know that after a certain time he will throw patience to the winds and leap frantically upward in the effort to secure the prize.

A force of fully one hundred young fellows was to be left in the village as a guard against disaster in case the enemy should force its way through the pa.s.s. Lady Tennys was to have a bodyguard, even though it crippled the fighting force at the front. The men comprising this reserve did not relish the plan, but their objections were relentlessly overruled by the white Izor and King Pootoo. With sulky heads they seated themselves as directed near the temple they were to protect with their lives.

It required but a few minutes of time for Ridgeway to find that his little army was ready to move. After some hesitation he went to the temple door to bid farewell to his fellow-castaway. She was still leaning against the doorpost and did not move as he approached.

"We're off now," he said as he came up. "Don't worry, little woman; we'll come home victorious as sure as fate. See these fellows? They are your guard, your own soldiers. You can command them to do as you wish."

"Mine?" she asked slowly, as if not comprehending.

"Yes; they are the Lady Tennys Reserves," he said, smiling. A glad light suddenly broke in her eyes, her face brightened and her whole mien changed from despair to delight.

"Thank you, Hugh. I shall never forget you for this. You will never know how happy I am to have these men to do my bidding. If it is necessary I will show you that a woman of England can fight as valiantly as her brothers, the bravest men in all the world." In her eyes there were tears as she uttered these words,--tears of courage and pride.

"Would that I could have you by my side all through this fight. There is an inspiration in your very gentleness that could make me do prodigious deeds of valor. But, good-by, Tennys! I'll be back for lunch to-morrow!"

he cried as he dashed away. He could look into those swimming eyes no longer and restrain a certain impulse that was trying to force him into the liberation of an entirely unnecessary bit of sentiment.

"Good-by, Hugh! Don't be careless. What will the Reserves be worth to me if you are killed? I shall pray for you, Hugh--every minute of this awful night I shall pray for you."

"G.o.d bless you," he called back from Velvet Valley, his brain whirling with the wish that he had kissed her and the fear of the result had he made the attempt.

A few minutes later he sent his jacket back to the temple. It was his most valued possession. Had he seen the look of tenderness in her eyes as she hold up the worn, blue jacket; had he seen her kiss the blue cloth impulsively, he would have been thrilled to the bone. But had he been there to observe the startled, mystified blush that rose to her brow when she found that she had really kissed his coat, he might have been as perplexed as she over the unusual act.

With heart beating violently and nerves strung to their highest tension, Ridgeway led the way to the river. He was as confident of victory as if he were returning from the pa.s.s with the result out of doubt. Reaching the river, his men plunged into the water and swam across, not waiting for the canoes. He and the king were rowed over, meeting the swimmers as they came up from the bank, dripping and puffing. Again the march was resumed, and within fifteen minutes the band was at the foot of the hills. Here Hugh called a halt.

With Pootoo and a dozen men he went forward to take a look down the long gorge. All torches were extinguished and absolute silence was enforced.

The scouting party failed to hear a sound except the cries of night birds and their own heavy breathing. All nature seemed to be resting for the struggle that was to come.