Chapter IX: The Great Double Duel, and Things Later

The two death-beasts exchanged a sputtering hiss or two, as they came on, and as soon as they were together they ranged up side and side, as if they had been a yoke of giant oxen. The next instant they made headlong into the opening.

Ranged side by side, too, the three-horns received them. The death-beasts rose on their hind legs as they came to close quarters, but the three-horns kept on all fours, and lowered their spiked heads. For an instant the two rearing giants shot up almost as high as the branch where Sure-dart rode, and he drew up his feet in alarm; but the next moment the monsters were down again, and were completely covering the two defenders. The smaller creatures seemed to give way in the legs, as if they could not stand the weight, and the death-beasts sank a little with them, all the while digging with their fore claws, and crooking their serpent necks, as they tried to fasten with their teeth.

This seemed to be pretty near the end, close as it was to the beginning, for the three-horns looked to be as good as blotted out. It would be strange, indeed, if they could stand such a crushing and tearing. Sure-dart did not see how they could, as he stood up and looked over an obstructing branch, and tried to get a clearer view of the tilting and heaving flesh-mountains.

But the first charge is not always the whole of a battle. The three-horns now proved this. As Sure-dart was craning his neck so as to see over the obstructing branch, he noticed that one of the death-beasts was pushing or crowding down with her fore feet, and had flung up, with a snake-like contortion, her long neck. She seemed to be recoiling from what was under her, as if something had suddenly gone wrong. In a moment, as Sure-dart wonderingly stared, she gave a stronger push, dug her great hind claws into the ground, and floundered and tumbled off the body of the creature below.

Sure-dart peered eagerly down to see what had happened, and was surprised to find that the three-horned beast, though seemingly bruised and showing dark in places, which were doubtless blood-stained, was able to hold up her head, and was even making motions to rise. She did come up the next moment, though only after a lurch and a scramble, and backed away a few paces, then again defensively lowering her horned snout.

The death-beast that had just been engaged with her, on the contrary, lay flattened out, but raised her head languidly; Sure-dart then saw that there was a great dusky patch on the side of her neck, and on bending down, and looking still more closely, he could see that the patch extended down to the shoulder; he was sure then that it was bloody. This looked like the work of the three-horns’s great, turtle-like bill, or perhaps came from a fall upon the terrible spiked frill back of the creature’s head. There had been a turning and twisting at the last, and it was impossible to say which supposition was correct.

But as this round, as it might be called, ended, the fight elsewhere grew, if anything, hotter.

The other death-beast had got his great hind feet into action, and it seemed that they were working at the head of the three-horns, which lay flat on its stomach. At the same time, the death-beast was biting furiously at the other extremity, tearing away at the hips and flanks.

Sure-dart had no doubt of the end of this duel, but he watched it closely, both from curiosity, and because he thought the conclusion would be a step toward his own release. It did not take long to work out.

The conquering death-beast rose a little, let the dying three-horns half stagger up, and then fastened again with his teeth, and fore claws, and gave a simultaneous dig with both hind feet. The force would be hard to measure, but it would have ripped an elephant half in two, and it tore the three-horns from his fore shoulders clear through the length of his head. The creature instantly collapsed and came down in a heap, and the death-beast, holding his fearful grip, sank with him. As he reached the ground, the serpent neck twisted, and the head reached back, stopping high up the side, near some of the large blood-vessels. Here it made a dart, and the sharp teeth once more went to work. This time, however, the aim was not to kill, but to feast.

Meanwhile, the other death-beast, thus left to “hoe her own row,” began to revive and seem more active. Just then she raised her head, and with a gathering under of her legs, dived forward, and dropped crashingly upon her waiting antagonist.

But the three-horns had backed a little, and that with great quickness, so that only her fore parts were borne down under the gigantic assailant. Wrenching, twisting, and digging with her sturdy fore legs she was quickly up again, immediately drove forward, and gave a fierce dig upward into the broad, crowding breast. At least one of the horns drove into the flesh, and when it was there the desperate beast wormed and bored, and did not cease till the hole was big enough--as Sure-dart believed--to let in a man’s head. At least, that wound did the business for the death-beast. She hissed and sputtered furiously, and seemed, reptile-like, very little troubled by the pain, but in not more than half a minute she began to relax her scrambling and clawing, and gradually grew inert and still.

The three-horns tried to clear her head and shoulders, but what with the weight, and the previous wounds, and exhaustion, she could not, and after a few more struggles she too sank down. The two bodies lay in a quiet heap for a moment, but just as Sure-dart concluded that they were both dead, the death-beast lifted her mighty tail and struck out, broke the trunk of a small tree, and with a great heave rose up and drove her teeth into the flank of the pinned-down foe. Then she dropped back and stretched her long neck, which took on a coil, as if it had been a snake. The three-horns did not move,--not even after she had but the weight of the body to deal with, and Sure-dart could not doubt that she also was dead.

The tremendous battle being over, the boy drew a long breath and got into a more comfortable position. It was time to be thinking again about his own affairs and what he should do.

The first thing, as it seemed evident, was to find out how far the conquering death-beast was taken up with his eating. This might not be easy, for though the creature was not very quick to see or to hear, and though Sure-dart believed its sense of smell was also rather dull, yet there was another difficulty, and that of a most important kind. The creature was not relatively slow in its motions, and it was so huge, and had such a reach, that, if the boy went down to scout and did happen to catch its notice, it would be a hard piece of work to get back to safety. In fact, only the difficulty that the monster would have in working its great body quickly about amongst the trees and undergrowth promised any mentionable chance at all. But something must be done, and Sure-dart thought that it should be done soon, for there was no telling what the monster would do when it was done with its feast. It might go nosing about, and discover the watcher, and then it was very likely to camp down for a siege.

Reasoning in this way, the boy worked cautiously along the branch to the trunk of the tree, and from there, still going slowly and as noiselessly as possible, he slipped into the next, and farther-off tree. The monster’s back was all the while toward him, and was now completely hidden by the tree-tops, and Sure-dart thought he would risk the descent.

He made practically no noise in doing this, and at the bottom of the tree stepped off in a tangle of parasite vines and outreaching creepers. Soft-footed, like a cat after mice, the boy crept step by step away, and at last reached the border of trees next the open marsh-line. With one more pause, till he heard the death-beast chewing and craunching into the carcass, he slipped boldly out, and when clear shot away on the run.

It seemed to him, as his speed prevented him from following the noises behind him clearly, that he heard a cracking through the border of small trees and bushes, which would probably mean the rush of the death-beast, but as he slacked a little, turning his head to catch the sound, he could make out nothing. It was very likely his imagination, or else it was the noise of a harmless small creature, or of the wind.

When he was fairly on the ridge he halted and looked back. There was no creature of any kind in sight, and the only noises were the usual ones of the concealed animal life, such as there had been before.

With the strain considerably relieved now, he kept on, and without any sort of hindrance came to the place where he had been keeping guard. Now, in the dusk of the small trees that bordered the ridge beyond, he heard a new kind of noise, and abruptly stopped. It sounded like the careful movement of some large animal.

But as he instinctively crouched, staring in the direction, another and very different sound followed, for a human voice called out:

“It is you, is it, Sure-dart? We couldn’t tell at first.”

And Big-axe and three or four more of the warriors stepped out into sight.

For a moment Sure-dart was so delighted that he could not speak. His legs grew weak with the reaction. But as they came toward him, and Big-axe asked where he had been, and why he had left his post, he made a strong effort, and outwardly was as steady and self-possessed as usual.

“I was forced to leave it,” he answered. “I will tell you about it.”

He did, and they heard the story with lively, though not demonstrative interest. The experience, nevertheless, was uncommon, even for those hazardous days. While they were listening, some others of the men joined them, and, in fact, the whole camp, which was by this time aroused, was pretty soon gathered around. Sure-dart learned that he had not been at once missed, but that after a while the chief, who was still sleeping with one eye open, awoke fully, and started out to see how things were going. At first he thought that Sure-dart had merely extended his picket work a little, but on pushing along for some distance to see, he found that he was mistaken, and discovered that the boy had disappeared altogether. Shortly afterwards he, in turn, was missed from the camp, and then some others of the fighting men came to look him up. This led to a discussion; and while all were puzzled, it was rather thought that some wild creature had killed and carried off the boy. It was evidently not human beings, or they would have followed up their advantage by attacking the camp. As for any other theory, they could not conceive of a sufficient motive to draw the boy voluntarily from his post, and even if so, to keep him away. They finally decided to station two sentinels in his place, and to send a small scouting party as far as the end of the ridge. They were about to do this when he appeared.

“Well,” said Big-axe, when it was at last all clear, “you have been lucky, and so have we as well. A great many bad things had a chance to happen. But now turn in, and get a good rest. We shall not go from here for a while, or till we are sure that the Fishers have really gone back; so you can sleep as long as you like. I will say further, though I do not believe in much open praise, that you have done very well, and that you have earned your place among the fighting men.”

Sure-dart had some trouble in hiding his pride and gratification at this praise, but he knew what was expected of a full-ranked warrior, and managed to keep it pretty well hidden. Such a glimmer of it as he could not quite smother did not seem to displease the chief.

Sure-dart, with all present care off his mind, and his body, strong and enduring as it was, thoroughly tired, finished out the night with a sound sleep. Not only that, but he did not awake at once in the morning when the others began to stir. The plan of staying where they were till they felt sure that the Fishers had turned back was still thought the only wise and prudent one; accordingly, they continued in their camp that day and the following night. Even then Big-axe believed that they should leave a rear guard, so as to check any crafty late attack, and also to give the others time to prepare. This was done, and the rear guard was told off, and left in the little fort. In case they were attacked by a small body of the enemy they were to resist, and afterwards were to push on and join the main force; but if they saw they were to be attacked in force, they were to hasten on, send word to the chief, and check the pursuers as much as they could. By using a little cunning they could pick out places for a stand that would give them an advantage.

The rear guard was made up of ten strong fighters, including the chief’s son and Sure-dart. The boy was chosen partly for his fleetness as a runner--for it might be necessary to send a speedy messenger to the main body--and partly because of his coolness and resourcefulness. Big-axe saw and fully appreciated these excellent qualities, little as he had said about them. But at the last moment Hop-foot put in a plea to join the company. He wanted to be with his friend Sure-dart, and also (remember, he was but a boy) he secretly wanted to get rid of helping along the small children and carrying a pack. True, this pack was light, but to carry it was irksome, and then with it he could not run about at will, and make inquisitive dashes after small wild creatures.

At first Big-axe was inclined to refuse the request, but when Hop-foot, with the cunning of some boys of the present day, looked hurt, and said that he didn’t want to be treated always as a child, when he was more than half-grown, the chief hesitated, and finally gave in. It was time, he thought, that the boy were having a little helpful experience, and this would be a light breaking in. Only one thing slightly troubled him when he was otherwise ready to consent, and that was lest the child should happen to offend Bull-head. The young man was to command the party, and his father knew that he did not like his half-brother,--perhaps in part from jealousy,--and that he was surly and quick-tempered. Moreover, he had, in the past year or so, been impatient of the authority of the chief, and seemed to want a greater measure of independence. Under the simple and primitive rule of the tribe, which made the head of a family the absolute ruler of it,--subject only to the exigencies of great general matters, such as war,--Bull-head was bound to obey his father. The only change would come when the father died, or should happen to lose his reason, or when Bull-head should marry and himself have children. Even then the father would retain a certain amount of authority.

This kind of rule, or law, we call the patriarchal, and it has generally been in force among primitive peoples, and was even, to a certain degree, adopted by the enlightened Romans. But this objection, which the chief kept entirely to himself, he finally concluded to disregard; so he put it aside and told Hop-foot to run along.

The boy did not linger after he heard this, but dashed back to join Sure-dart, who had followed along for a short distance--knowing what Hop-foot was about--and was now waiting for him.

They joined the others of the command in the little islet fort, and Hop-foot, as grave as any warrior, reported to Bull-head.

For a moment the harsh face of the young man darkened to a look more forbidding still; but as Hop-foot bobbed his head, meaning, according to the custom of the tribe, that he was putting himself fully under the leader’s authority and would so continue till the purposes of the present undertaking were accomplished--as he did this, the harsh look of Bull-head slightly softened. At least, here was submission to his rule, and evidently with the consent of the chief himself, and the boy really looked obedient. The foolish and unreasonable pride of the fellow was tickled, and as he had time to think about it, he thawed a little more, till finally he told Hop-foot he would accept him, and to consider himself a part of the command. This was a little more than the orders of Big-axe seemed absolutely to require, and so was something of a concession.

As soon as he was dismissed, Hop-foot went skipping off, and again joined Sure-dart.

“Now it seems like old times,” he gleefully broke out. “We’ll have a little fun, if there’s any to be had. Bull-head doesn’t seem very cross, and I guess he won’t bother us. Father says that we are coming to the part of the country where the scamperers are, and if we don’t have to join the others right away, we may bag one. I don’t mean, you know, to kill him, but catch him. Some of the men will help. Father saw one caught just by heading him into a pool, where men could wade and catch him as he swam. What do you think? I’d mightily like one for a pet.”

“If we could catch one,” Sure-dart answered rather sceptically, “he would be all right for a pet; but--well, we can’t tell. I never saw but one alive, and that was a little fellow that father brought home. He was hurt, and didn’t live long. A terror-bird had got a clip at him. That is, just a touch, but it was enough.”

“Oh, I should suppose it would have been. Excuse me from having anything to do with the terror-bird. Hearing about him is enough.”

“I never saw one alive,” said Sure-dart, “but from what I have heard, a dead one would suit me better. When you think of a bird an axe-length taller than a man, with a bill half as long as the axe-handle and twice as sharp as the edge, and with clawed feet that together spread the bigness of a man’s body--when you talk about him--well, the talking is enough.”

“But still,” said Hop-foot, with a sturdy shake of the head, “I should like to be one of a party to make a try at him. I know you would do your share, too, if you had the chance. Only you always talk about such things as if you were kind of scared.”

“I think I am learning wisdom,” said Sure-dart, with a smile.

He was beginning to feel that the responsibilities of his new position--his place among the men--were belittling his former boyish thoughts and feelings, and that thus he was growing away from Hop-foot. Yet this was merely in that one thing. He liked the boy as much as ever.

They went on talking till Bull-head called Sure-dart and ordered him to join one of the men in trying to kill or snare something for dinner.