Chapter XXIV: The Crisis

As the chief spoke he raised his own bow, first getting such a balance that the unsteady little craft would not balk his aim, and the next moment he let drive.

He could shoot farther than any other man in the tribe, though he was not among the very best marksmen, but this time he had taken pains, and the target was near. The boat swung of itself a little, taking the chief out of the line of Sure-dart’s vision, and the boy saw that the powerfully sent shaft had hit the mark. The tall, tufted fellow wallowing along in advance, dropped his raised spear, and broke out in a yell of surprise and pain. There was light enough to show the outforking shaft of the arrow, which stood obliquely up from the man’s right breast. The stricken fellow stopped, took a side-step, turned, and began to wade feebly back to the shore.

The chief grunted with satisfaction, coolly took up his spear, and pushed the head of the boat farther around.

Sure-dart did not need to be told what this meant, and lifted his bow. The whole long row of splashers and waders, like so many people at one of our fashionable beaches, had now opened up.

Some of those nearest the wounded man had stopped, amazed and startled, but the others did not seem to know that anything particular had happened, and still came on. It was now that Sure-dart let fly.

There was no one man that could be said to be “next” to the fellow that the chief had hit, so Sure-dart took for his target a broad-chested warrior, who was almost directly before him. As the bow relaxed, the man lowered his arms, his spear and shield dropped, and he sank gently down and out of sight.

There was a little flurry immediately about where the man had been, but again those farther off did not seem to notice, and continued to wade and wallow along.

But this could not continue, for there were other places in the line now where there were gaps, and, moreover, those in the other boats were beginning to yell and fling taunts. The waders must quickly see that something unusual was the matter.

“We must work fast,” said Big-axe, hurriedly. He clapped another arrow to the string, and with an off-hand aim, fired. Then, without looking after the shot, he caught several arrows from the quiver, laid them down before him, and started in again. He now began regular battery work, pulling and twanging away at his bow as fast as he could lay the arrows to the string. The time for fine and deliberate work had passed.

But Sure-dart did not need advice or warning. Even before the chief had discharged his second arrow, he was turning his own work into battery form. He had begun to shoot, and reach for more arrows at a rate distinctly beating the chief’s. Now he was working with a sort of weaving motion, shooting, catching up another arrow, clapping it to the string, giving a sharp jerk, and then recoiling, as it were, and swaying down for still another shaft. Like Big-axe, he was no longer stopping to watch results.

It was wonderful how long it seemed to take to get it into the heads of the swimmers and waders that something was wrong. Men yelled, staggered back out of the line, here and there plumped suddenly down, and now and then howled and came to a halt. Yet still the others, seeming hardly to look around, raging at the loss of the boats, and furious at what they doubtless thought was the impudence of the whole affair,--continued to come on. Now those nearest the boats began to let go darts and spears.

“We must fall back,” exclaimed Big-axe, dropping his bow and seizing his spear. “Push out!” he roared at the top of his voice to the others.

But strong as his voice was, it was almost lost in what had now become an uproar. The boats’ people were excitedly yelling and flinging taunts, and the assailants were screeching and howling in their unearthly way. There was groaning, too, and snarling noises of pain, and splashing and wallowing. Only those in the very nearest boats seemed to hear the chief, and show by their motions that they would try to obey. Setting his lips, the chief gave a powerful shove, and sent the dugout several feet farther into the lake.

Up to this point it was impossible to say how the day was going. The poor light, the general rush and confusion, and the way the fighting lines were spread out, had quickened things out of the first plain and rather slow work to a headlong swirl and tangle that no man could make meaning or end out of! Sure-dart, catching the expression on the chief’s face, saw that it was a business now of taking care of themselves till the bloody human knot could be untangled.

The strong shove of the spear had taken their own boat so far away from the few who still ranged toward it that this company stopped, and after a moment scattered and began to move toward some of the other boats. A few of them were already swimming, and the taller ones seemed to be moving almost on tiptoes. In this position they were of course unable to use darts or spears. Some of the other canoes, however, were nearer the shore, and some that were about as far out appeared to be over a shoaly bottom. For an instant the dugout was left to itself.

Big-axe, giving up his poling for a moment, straightened up and looked around. Sure-dart, from the stern, did the same.

They were a little more than in season to make out the beginning of a change. At last even the thick-headed waders and swimmers had found out that something was terribly wrong. They had noticed their falling companions, and had seen, before the final slump into the water, that strange looking darts were forking out of the faces, or bodies. Headlong as the rush had been, and near as it had brought them to some of the boats, it was still clear that it did not and could not account for all those strange and fatal hits. No dart could cover such distances. A few at a time halted, those in advance saw that they were not supported, and even as the chief and the boy looked, the whole irregular line began to fall slowly back. Half a minute later the spatter of out-bound black heads and uplifted arms, had changed to the whole of dusky bodies, and legs showing below the hips, and the raised, or pawing arms had sunk to the sides. There was not a man left that stood in four feet of water.

The noise had died down with the retreat, but now, from the right of the line, broke out a bull-like roar. There was no mistaking it, at least, by the boat people, and on the instant a great answering yell went up.

Big-axe laughed, and with his spear anchored the boat. The breeze, though still light, had strengthened, and the dugout was beginning to feel it.

A look up and then down the line showed two coracles half swamped and deserted; outside of the general line, and drifting slowly off before the wind, was a dugout. Just what this meant in losses, of course there was no way at the moment to tell. There were, very likely, also, some wounded or perhaps dead men in the boats.

As for the work done the other way, it was almost equally hard, in this little lull, to tell. Some had no doubt got back to the shore, but among the dusky figures that now lined a considerable part of the bank, there was no picking out, or identifying. The greater number of those killed or seriously hurt were undoubtedly on the lake bottom.

The only way to make even a wild guess was to note the party that still remained, and to compare it with what had seemed to be the whole original force. On this broad basis there was some shrinkage, and it might amount to a fourth or a fifth. To try to get nearer was out of the question, and there were many reasons why even this guess might be far out of the way.

Big-axe and Sure-dart noted these things, but not many more, for now the little breathing-spell was over. The clamor on shore, hardly noticed while the fight was going on, and drooping to lower notes as the assailants drew off, here broke out again, and in the midst of it the line at one point was jostled, and through it broke a bunch of dark figures that fanned out, and rushed almost headlong into the water.

There was time to see some of them more plainly, as they waded toward the fighting party and the moonlight fell on them, and this settled anything that could not have been guessed at. The reinforcement was not great in numbers, for it could hardly have exceeded twenty persons, and the majority of these were women and half-grown boys, but nevertheless, it was a reinforcement of a sort that sometimes effects what mere physical strength and fighting experience cannot. Some of these women were the wives, or sisters, or sweethearts of the hesitating warriors, and some of the boys were the warriors’ sons. They could cheer, and encourage, and remind their protectors what defeat meant (death, perhaps with torture, they could not doubt), and at the last could strike with them, and die with them. The reinforcement meant something, then, even when the moon brought out its physical shortcomings, and it was not despised by any of the Rock-warriors.

But Big-axe also was thinking of those other women and children that he and the rest of his little band had left behind, and what would become of them if victory went the other way; and he thought of the harm these two tribes had done his people, and all without just reason. This steeled his nerves and closed the door to tender and merciful thoughts.

The rest of the pause was short. There was some loud and rapid talk; the newcomers pushed out farther among the sullen and hesitating warriors; spears and shields were seen to be brandished--in another moment the whole company, new recruits and all, were heading out, and splashing swiftly through the shallows.

For some reason the canoe of Big-axe and Sure-dart had again slipped a little out of the irregular fighting line. They both dug their spears into the sand, and began to push it back, but in the meanwhile the assault was on. The canoe that was manned by Bull-head happened to be the nearest to the coming human wave, and on that, accordingly, its crest broke. Bull-head, erect, had thrown aside his bow, and was gripping his great club. With it he met the shock. No doubt his arrows were all spent. Big-axe began to pole that way, and Sure-dart, seeing what was in the chief’s mind, dug in his own spear.

Bull-head, as Sure-dart saw, smashed the uplifted face of the first man that reached the canoe, but another swam up behind it, and with a sharp twist all but upset Bull-head, and made him drop his club and clutch at the gunwales. While he was still in this position a tall warrior, his head and shoulders out of water, came over a shoal place just on the other bow, and made a swift jab with his spear.

It must have gone home. Bull-head cried out, started to his feet, and then slumped forward to his knees. The man’s head was now hidden by the canoe, but something flashed into sight, and doubtless he had driven in the spear again. But now Bull-head, staggering to his feet, threw one arm defiantly aloft, and once more sent out his deep-throated roar. As the sound died out he sagged at the knees, his body swayed, and he fell like a blown-down tree, over the gunwale.

Both Big-axe and Sure-dart paused as this end came. The boat began to drift outward again. The chief drew a sharp breath, bent down, and drove his spear-point again into the bottom, and with a tremendous push sent the boat bodily toward the floating canoe.

But meantime the tall man had climbed into the canoe, and was using the paddle that it seemed it contained. He was heading it toward a coracle, manned by one Rock-warrior, that was next in the general line. As he started, the nearest wader caught it by the stern, and deftly slipped up and into it. Both of the fellows were Fishers, for neither had a topknot, and both carried the distinctive Fisher shield.

Another twist of the paddle brought the canoe a little more fairly toward Big-axe and the boy, and let the moonlight in upon the two men’s faces and wet, shining bodies.

“Long-spear!” broke out Sure-dart.

Big-axe did not speak, but slipped his hand behind him, and made sure that his axe was there.

The man who had killed Bull-head, and who was in the bow of the coming canoe, was in truth the wily Fisher chief. He was at the moment intent on the man in the coracle, and did not seem to heed the dugout and its crew.

Big-axe, thinking of his son, and seeing before him the man who had killed him, was in turn heading for Long-spear. He had not uttered a word since Bull-head went over the rail.

Sure-dart drove his own spear in harder, and the boat slipped out of the background obscurity and in front of this part of the line. Long-spear must see the two men now.

Big-axe had evidently marked the Fisher chief for his own, but the other warrior was a proper target, and Sure-dart was about to put down his spear and take up his bow. But something prevented, and that was a snap as of yielding wood, a jolt, a jerk, that made balance out of the question, and then a headlong tumble of the boy into the water.