Chapter XVII: Nature Comes Into the Fight

It was a big party that now came racing and yelling down the hill-side. Nevertheless, it effected nothing, for Big-axe and the rest had too good a start, and were too fast even for the scattered fast men who were in the advance. All got safely back to the wall, and were leisurely helped up. The pursuit had already stopped. The water was by this time safely put away, and there was general rejoicing, as indeed there well might be. Things seemed to be going better than any but the most sanguine could have dared to hope.

There were now fresh preparations for an attack, should any be ventured, which, however, was unlikely. Big-axe said that he believed there would be none. He had already gone over his muster roll--to use the modern military term,--and found that he had left just ten grown men, twelve large boys, including Sure-dart, and the small contingent of women. There had been two men killed at the barricade at this last assault, one being the man who had previously been wounded in the thigh, and one totally disabled. He thought the allies now had left under fifty serviceable men. As the boys in the garrison, other than Sure-dart, could not be considered as nearly equalling the same number of grown warriors, it was apparent that the allies still had a strong advantage in efficient fighters.

While these new preparations were going on, Sure-dart had been spoken to by Big-axe and complimented on his pluck and coolness.

“You did just what I wanted you to,” said the chief, “which was to hold on as long as possible, and tempt their party to come close. I had to let you take some risk, but it was for the good of all. I thought we had a chance to thin them out, and lose few if any ourselves, and that we must take the chance. We came out of it well, for they could not afford to lose four to one.”

To this Sure-dart answered that he was glad the matter had come out so well, for at one time he had thought the rescue would come too late, and his party be lost, with nothing to offset it; and he added that Diver ought to have a part of whatever credit there was for the stand the two had made.

“I have already told him so,” said the chief. “As for you, I like the way you are doing things, and I think if you keep on you will some day be chief. That is, if we manage to get out of this trouble.”

He passed on, leaving Sure-dart very well pleased, and inwardly a bit proud and elated.

It was now dark, and the usual preparations for the night were made, with one exception: no scouts were sent outside, as on the previous night. That was because there was something of a stir from the direction of the woods, and Big-axe guessed that the enemy was meaning to come nearer. In fact, it was not likely to be otherwise, considering what had just passed. While straight-out assaults were relied on, the condition of the defenders as to food and water was of no particular consequence, but now that a siege was to be tried, it was of great consequence. Therefore, the little fort must be invested so closely that other dashes like the recent one would be impossible. It did not take long to prove this theory true, for a few minutes later the watch on the barricade were able to make out dusky shapes flitting about in the obscurity, and shortly afterwards some drew closer, and formed a tolerably large guard.

A little later still voices were heard above, and a spiteful rock came crashing down the slope, and bounced off the path. Nobody was hurt, but the warning was regarded, and all but the guard on the wall crept under the protection of the rock penthouses. The guard, as previously explained, was placed so that large rocks could not be sent down upon them, and they curled up, with their own shields and some spare ones to cover them, and were in little danger. But this final disposition of the two bands made it pretty certain that the nature of the attack had indeed changed, and that a siege was meant.

The breeze had gone down with the sun, and though there was a slight fog or mist, it seemed merely to make the air closer and more uncomfortable. There had been no rain for several days, and of course the rocks and ground had been drying and storing warmth, and in all the open places there was nothing moist or cool, and no spot that was really comfortable. To make things vastly worse, swarms of flies and various other insect pests were a-wing, or most active on their legs, and these now began to get in their work. As the defenders could not now safely move about, they were the more plagued and tormented, and that in spite of some little tricks of protection that their experience had taught them. They had found that certain kinds of earth, rubbed on the exposed parts of their bodies, would keep off some insects, and that another earth, especially if mixed with the juice of certain acrid plants, would keep off still others. Yet other kinds of tormentors disliked earth impregnated with salt, such as the Rock-people sometimes rubbed on their meat. There was plenty of this earth on hand, and a little search brought to light a few of the other things; but in the main the supply was short, and much wriggling and twisting and complaining were heard in consequence.

The besiegers were somewhat better off. They could move about, and could get at plenty of earth, with which to make suits of mud armor. Besides, many of them were already plastered over with earth paint, and this greatly helped. After a while, too, some cut switches and then they took turns in fanning away the tormentors. The guard on the wall could hear the swishing of the branches, and could also now and then catch impatient grunts, and what probably passed in that primitive day for oaths.

But the allies had another most important thing in their favor: they had no fear of an attack from the fort, and so, with a guard posted, could sleep as well as the other conditions would permit. The little garrison, on the other hand, not sure of their foes’ real intentions, hardly dared to sleep, and were constantly listening for suspicious sounds. They were in a way to wear out pretty fast, therefore, which was doubtless one of the things that Long-spear and the squat chief had counted on.

Sure-dart, though young, was cool and sensible; he made a determined effort to ignore both flying and creeping things, and nervous fears, and to get at least a nap. He finally succeeded, but did not then sleep soundly, and often woke up. Still, the time was going, and it must sometime be light. Then foes, big and little, could at least be seen, and so be the more satisfactorily reckoned with.

The moon now rose late, but at last Sure-dart awoke from another nap, and found that it had grown light enough to see near things. He was lying on some rushes, under a shelf of the rock, and with nothing to cut off his view of a wide sweep of sky, especially to the south. He had a fair easterly range, too, and so could take in the growing light there, even down to the red edge of the moon itself. Thinking that he could sleep no more just then, he sat up and threw a general glance around.

There was nothing except the growing moon that was new. The shelf, to the cut-off of the wall, was still bare and open, though with the sticking out, here and there, of restless hands or feet, or the projection of some weapon. In the other direction, the broken-in hut was succeeded by the deserted remainder of the open part of the shelf. On the barricade he could make out the huddled-up figures of two of the three sentinels. They were sitting on one of the top stones. The third was a stone lower, and was just now leaning on his spear.

The moon rose higher, and the light grew stronger, but it was not a clear light. The haze gave it a red, sombre cast, and took from it the little illusive romance that makes other moonlights beautiful. The size of the moon itself was also exaggerated, and as it redly climbed above the wooded hills, and seemed broadening across that whole quarter of the sky, it was almost terrifying. Showing at all times greater than the moon of to-day, it was enlarged also to the eye, as our moon sometimes is, and seemed like a red-hot world drifting down through space upon this one.

The night itself, like the most of those primitive nights, could not be said to be quiet. Besides the mutterings of the restless sleepers--or those trying to sleep--and the grunting and grumbling of some who were fighting off insects, were the noises faintly coming up from the enemy’s camp below, and a little stirring about on the rocks above. And still besides these were the ordinary natural sounds,--the drumming, whistling, and croaking of reptiles,--such reptiles as this modern earth never saw,--the booming and squawking of strange night-birds, and the humming, buzzing, and knocking of small flying things against everything animate and inanimate. Most were invisible, and so there was uncertainty in their coming and going and a little vagueness about their presence, and this added to the helpless irritation of trying to fight them off. Many, however, were merely a little too curious and sociable, and did no harm, a few being great beetles that knocked into one’s face, and then fell down with a tremendous buzzing, and others turning out to be huge moths, that fluttered around, and if caught clung to one’s skin with obstinate, scratching feet.

There was of course nothing new and surprising to Sure-dart in this mere stir and swarming confusion of the night life of the place, and this alone would not have kept him awake. He swung his feet out into the path, and arranged the rushes more comfortably under him. If he decided to try for more sleep he could succeed better after a restful change of position.

The thing that he looked at the oftenest was the giant red moon. He thought he had never seen it quite so monstrous and sinister. It was clearing the horizon now, and giving more light, but not ordinary moonlight. Things under it came dimly out, and with hard, black outlines and deep shadows, where usually would have been silvery shimmerings and blue bits of duskiness. There was a sombreness and suggestion of something almost unnatural about it all, and a feeling as if new and strange things might happen, and the effect on the mind was one of uneasiness, and a longing for good wholesome daylight once more.

Nevertheless, as with a kind of fascination, Sure-dart continued to look, and watched the giant red ball push itself up, as it were, from the rim of hills and woods, and float clear into the dusky open above. He must be growing a bit nervous, for just then a whirring noise, as of a bird’s wings, made him start, and he looked around to see where the sound came from. There was nothing at the moment in sight. He waited, glancing this way and that, and listening, beginning to guess now what had made the noise.

Only another few seconds, and then he had a chance to know, and what mystery there had been was at an end. As he was looking skywards, and away from the moon, something that could be likened to an army tent dropped down from a high place, fell flapping past, a noise like a magnified squeak, and ending in a sort of sputter, coming from it.

Strange and disconcerting as such a vision would be now it was almost cheering to Sure-dart. He knew what it was, and though there might have been circumstances when he would have looked serious at the sight of the creature he was not troubled now. It was that giant, bat-like monster of the lizard family that we have named pterodactyl, but which the Rock-people called beast-bird. This one had a body as big as a fair-sized dog’s, with a bird-like head, ending in a long, toothed bill.

Had the creature caught him asleep, or disabled, or even alone, provided that he did not at once start up, and show that he was able to fight, it might have been a different story. That sharp saw of a bill, with a lean but strong neck behind it, could get in very quick and serious work, and the claws on the hind feet were adapted to back it up. The creature was bold, too, and doggedly stubborn when once it had begun to fight.

But it had some cunning, as well, or instincts that served the same purpose, and was not likely to be dangerous at this time. Sure-dart thought afterwards that it had smelt or seen the scamperer, and was looking for a chance to make one of its sudden, fierce dashes at it. If so it was disappointed, for the scamperer was cuddled down close to Hop-foot, and this was in the row of the armed men.

The creature rose from its dip into sight again, and took a short turn overhead. Then it went higher, sticking its long neck down, as Sure-dart could see, as if looking the situation finally over. Just now it was a strange and almost unearthly sight, with its monstrous cloak-like wings, cut out black against the sky, its poked-down head, with the great bill and the awkward, dangling legs. It would have given our forefathers cold shivers, for they would surely have taken it for the Evil One.

A little uneasy, notwithstanding his belief that the thing would not risk a dash, Sure-dart crept out of his nest, taking his spear with him. At sight of him, or perhaps discouraged already, the monster lifted its unsightly head, and flapped heavily off. Sure-dart watched it till it made a black dot against the blood-red moon, and finally seemed to be swallowed up in it.

Sure-dart now thought of what he was doing, and that he was in a little danger, for the light would show him to any watching enemies above. He therefore turned to crawl back into his nest. As he faced that way, he saw that Hop-foot was looking out of the next space.

“Gone, hasn’t he?” the boy said softly.

“Oh, then you were awake? Yes, he seemed to fly into the moon.”

“I am coming out, too,” the boy said again, after a little pause. “I am half roasted, and I want to stretch my legs. I guess there’s no danger.”

He did not wait for Sure-dart’s answer, but crept out.

“It seems as if the air were all used up, and nothing left to breathe,” Sure-dart sniffed and said. “It is kind of strange, too, up on this high land.”

“Maybe it means a noise-storm” (thunderstorm), Hop-foot suggested. “And say,” he went on, “if it does rain hard it will be a good thing for us. It will cool off things, and we can catch some of the water.”

“Yes,” Sure-dart began to answer, “and so I hope--What was that?”

He stopped abruptly to ask the question, and certainly he had reason.

From far--there was no saying where--came a low, dull roar, that was like, and yet not like, a tremendous wind. It deepened, died away, began to rise again--all in an instant it was lost in a mighty, deep-down thunder and crash that might well have split open the foundations of the earth!

As it died out the ground under them jarred, and they heard from far another but lower wind-like roar.

They gasped. They knew something about earthquakes, but this, with its terrible ripping up of what seemed the earth’s very foundations, was different, and they were shaken and bewildered.

Now began to be heard frightened cries, and confused questions, and out into the path rolled and scrambled men, women, and children. There was no thought of any other danger, and, in fact, little clear sense of anything, or of what had happened.

A light breeze stirred, and they smelled strange, rank odors. They turned to the west, from which the puff of wind had come, and found that the sky there was lighter. As still they gazed, they saw what was like another moon swiftly reddening the peaks of the now visible mountains.

There was no more talking. The strange light shone on pale, staring faces, and shaking limbs and bodies.

A long minute more. In that time the red had grown redder, and the mock moon had pushed up into sight. Still a little later, and up higher yet the great red ball had pushed. Now, in spite of the distance, they could make out fiery sparks flying in jets from it. They flew faster, but at the same time the mighty uplift began to lose its roundness, and grow lean and pointed.

Now it had stopped rising, and was standing still. It threw off no more sparks, and even the glow was fading. It suddenly faded out, but that was because of a quick and deep blackness that was spreading over that part of the sky.

A little boy screamed out. Something had dropped on him that was like a feather, but that seemed to have the point of a knife. His mother, forgetting her own fright for the moment, stooped to soothe him, and to find out what had hurt him. Something hard, like a small nut falling from a tree, struck her between the shoulders. At the same moment a man near the other end of the path snarled with pain.

His face was in sight one moment, but the next the man six paces from him could not see it; the darkness had reached them, and with it the cause of it. The air was full of the little falling substances, and of the black, soft particles, some as big as small feathers, and a rain of what seemed fine dust. They shouted in the blackness to one another, and families tried to feel their way together, and some snarled or shrieked, as a hot patch of the feathery stuff fell on a spot of bare flesh.

After scrambles and some falls and bumps against the rocks, all managed to get back into their stone nests. Faster still the dreadful stuff came down, and now they found that there was something besides a smother to it; they began to feel pains in the chest, and some were dizzy. One old man, crazed and muttering, staggered out, and after pawing about a moment, fell off the rock.

It was small comfort that, as this was going on, they could hear frightened roars and yells from overhead, and from the valley below. The most of them heard as with the outer senses only, and dully. Even Bull-head forgot his roar. Rage and hate were going, as life drew near to death.