Robert Michael Ballantyne
The Hot Swamp
Chapter Nine
Homecoming
It is beyond the scope of this tale to describe minutely all that befell our adventurers on their long, fatiguing, and dangerous march through ancient Gaul, which land at that time had neither name nor history.
Suffice it to say that, after numerous adventures with savage beasts, and scarcely less savage men, and many hair-breadth escapes and thrilling incidents by flood and field, they at last found themselves on the shores of that narrow channel which separated the northern coast of Gaul from the white cliffs of Old Albion. They were guided thereto, as we have said, by the Pole-star, which shone in our sky in those days with its wonted brilliancy, though, probably, astronomers had not yet given to it a local habitation in their systems or a distinctive name.
Of course their passage through the land had been attended with great variety of fortune, good and bad. In some parts they met with natives who received them hospitably and sent them on their way rejoicing. Elsewhere they found banditti, fortunately in small bands, with whom they had to fight, and once they were seized and imprisoned by a tribe of inhospitable savages, from whom they escaped, as it were, by the skin of their teeth.
In all these vicissitudes the gigantic frame and the mild, kindly looks of Bladud went far to conciliate the uncertain, attract the friendly, and alarm the savage, for it is a curious fact, explain it how we may, that the union of immense physical power with childlike sweetness of countenance, has a wonderful influence in cowing angry spirits. It may be that strong, angry, blustering men are capable only of understanding each other. When they meet with strong men with womanlike tenderness they are puzzled, and puzzlement, we think, goes a long way to shake the nerves even of the brave. At all events it is well known that a sudden burst of wrath from one whose state of temper is usually serene, exerts a surprising and powerful effect on average mankind.
Whatever be the truth as to these things, it is certain that nearly every one who looked up at the face of Bladud liked him, and more than once when his ponderous sword sprang from its sheath, and his blue eyes flashed, and his fair face flushed, and his magnificent teeth went together with a snap, he has been known to cause a dozen men to turn and flee rather than encounter the shock of his onset.
Little Maikar, who was himself as brave as a lion, nearly lost his life on one occasion, because he was so taken up and charmed with the sight of one of Bladud’s rushes, that he utterly forgot what he was about, and would have been crushed by the smite of a savage club, if the captain had not promptly turned aside the blow and struck the club-man down.
“At last!” exclaimed the prince, with a gaze of enthusiasm at the opposite cliffs, “my native land! Well do I love it and well do I know it, for I have stood on this shore and seen it from this very spot when I was quite a boy.”
“Indeed! How was that?” asked Arkal.
“I used to be fond of the sea, and was wont to travel far from my father’s home to reach it. I made friends with the fishermen, and used to go off with them in their little skiffs. One day a storm arose suddenly, blew us off shore, and, when we were yet a long distance from this coast, overturned our skiff. What became of my companions I know not. Probably they were drowned, for I never more saw them; but I swam ashore, where I think I should have died of exhaustion if I had not been picked up by an old fisherman of this land, who carried me to his hut and took care of me. With the old man I remained several months, for the fishermen on the two sides of the channel had been quarrelling at the time, and the old man did not dare to venture across. I did not care much, for I enjoyed playing with his grandson, and soon learned their language. After a time the quarrelling ceased, and the old man landed me on my own side.”
“That is interesting. I only wish the old fisherman was here now with his skiff, for there is no village in sight and no skiff to be seen, so how we are to get over I cannot tell,—swimming being impossible and wings out of the question.”
“Ay, except in the case of fish and birds,” observed Maikar.
“True, and as we are neither fish nor birds,” rejoined the captain, “what is to be done?”
“We must find a skiff,” said the prince.
“Good, but where?”
“On the other side of yon bluff cape,” replied Bladud. “It was there that my friend the old fisherman lived. Mayhap he may live there still.”
Pushing on along shore they passed the bold cape referred to, and there, sure enough, they found the old man’s hut, and the old man himself was seated on a boulder outside enjoying the sunshine.
Great was his surprise on seeing the three strangers approach, but greater was his joy on learning that the biggest of the three was the boy whom he had succoured many years before.
After the first greetings were over, Bladud asked if he and his friends could be taken across in a skiff.
The old man shook his head.
“All that I possess,” he said, “you are welcome to, but my skiff is not here, and if it was I am too old to manage it now. My son, your old companion, has had it away these two days, and I don’t expect him home till to-morrow. But you can rest in my poor hut till he comes.”
As there seemed nothing better to be done, the travellers agreed to this. Next day the son arrived, but was so changed in appearance, that Bladud would not have recognised his old playmate had not his father called him by name.
The skiff, although primitive and rude in its construction, was comparatively large, and a considerable advance on the dug-outs, or wooden canoes, and the skin coracles of the period. It had a square or lug-sail, and was steered by a rudder.
“My son is a strange man,” remarked the old fisherman, as the party sauntered down to the shore, up which the skiff had been dragged. “He invented that skiff as well as made it, and the curious little thing behind that steers it.”
“Able and strange men seem to work their minds in the same way,” returned Bladud; “for the thing is not altogether new. I have seen something very like it in the East; and, to my mind, it is a great improvement on the long oar when the boat is driven through the water, but it is of no use at all when there is no motion.”
“No; neither is it of use when one wishes to sweep round in a hurry,” observed the captain, when this was translated to him. “If it had not been for my steering-oar bringing you sharp round when we were attacking the pirate, you would hardly have managed to spit the chief as you did, strong though you be.”
It was found that the new style of skiff was a good sailer, for, although the wind was light, her lug-sail carried her over to the coast of Albion in about four hours.
“There has been some bad feeling of late between the men from the islands and the men of our side—there often is,” said the young fisherman, who steered. “I am not sure that it will be safe to land here.”
“If that be so, hold on close along the shore in the direction of the setting sun,” returned Bladud, “and land us after nightfall. I know the whole country well, and can easily guide my comrades through the woods to my father’s town on the great river.”
The young fisherman did not reply for a few seconds. He seemed in doubt as to this proposal.
“There has been war lately,” he said, “between your father and the southern tribes, and it may be dangerous for so small a party to traverse the lands of the enemy. I would gladly go and help you, but what could one arm more do to aid you against a host? Besides, my father is dependent on me now for food. I may not forsake the old one who has fed and guarded me since I was a little boy.”
“Concern yourself not about that, friend,” replied the prince. “We need no help. During many days we have travelled safely enough through the great woods of the interior, and have held our own against all foes.”
“Without doubt we are well able to take care of ourselves,” remarked the captain, “though it is but fair to admit that we have had some trouble in doing so.”
“Ay, and some starvation, too,” added Maikar; “but having come safe over the mainland, we are not afraid to face the dangers of the isles, young man.”
“I said not that you were afraid,” rejoined the fisherman, with something of dignified reproof in his manner; “but it is not disgraceful for brave men to act with caution.”
“Well said, my old comrade!” exclaimed Bladud; “and so we shall be pleased if you will land us here. But your speech leads me to understand that you have had news of my father’s doings lately. Is the old man well?”
“Ay, King Hudibras is well, and as fond of fighting as ever, besides being well able for it. I am not sure that he would be pleased if he heard you call him the ‘old man.’”
“Indeed? Yet nearly fifty winters have passed over his head, and that is somewhat old for a warrior. And my mother and sister—have you heard of them?”
“Excellently well, I believe. At least, so I have been told by the Hebrew merchant who came over sea with one of the Phoenician ships, and wanders over the whole land with his pack of golden ornaments—which so take the fancy of the women, indeed of the men also. How the fellow escapes being robbed on his journeys is more than I can tell. It is said that he travels by night and sleeps in caves during the day. Some people even think that he is in league with evil spirits. I doubt that; but he told me the other day, when I met him on our side of the channel, that your sister is about to be married to a neighbouring chief—I forget his name—Gunrig, I think—with whom your father wishes to be on friendly terms.”
“Married!” exclaimed Bladud, with a troubled look.
“Ay, and it is said she does not like the match.”
“Does my mother approve of it?”
“I think not, though the Hebrew did not seem to feel quite sure on that point. But your father seems resolved on it, and you know he is not easily turned from his purpose when determined to have his way. He is more difficult to move than a woman in that matter.”
“Come, friend,” said Bladud gravely, “don’t be too free in your remarks on my father.”
“And don’t be too hard on the women-folk,” added the captain, with a grim smile, “they are not all alike. At least there is one that I know of in the East, whose spirit is like that of the lamb, and her voice like the notes of the songbird.”
Maikar looked as if he were on the point of adding something to the conversation, but his thoughts seemed too deep for utterance, for he only sighed.
“Land us in yon creek,” said Bladud promptly. “It seems that I have not returned home a moment too soon. There, under the cliff—so.”
The skiff ran alongside of a ledge of rock as he spoke, and next moment the prince leaped upon the shores of his native land.
With a brief farewell to his old playmate, he turned, led his companions up the neighbouring cliff, and, plunging into the forest, set off at a pace which betrayed the urgency of his desire to reach home.
Although they travelled almost night and day, it took them the better part of two weeks to reach the river, on the banks of which King Hudibras’ chief town was built. They arrived at the eastern bank without mishap, and found that people were crowding over from the western side to attend some display or fête which was obviously going on there. Mingling with the crowd they went to the river’s edge, where numerous wooden canoes and coracles were busily engaged in ferrying the people over.
Approaching a man, whose apparel betokened him one of the poorer class, Bladud addressed him—
“Can you tell me, friend, what is going on here to-day?”
“Truly you must be a stranger if you know not, for every one—far and near—has heard of the wedding of our king’s pretty daughter.”
“Is she, then, married?” asked the prince, scarcely able to conceal his anxiety.
“Not yet, but she is to be married to-morrow—if no champion comes to claim her.”
“How? What mean you?”
“I mean what I say. Gunrig, the great chief whom she is to wed, is a proud and a stout man. Many chiefs have been courting the fair princess, and, in his pride of heart and strength, Gunrig has challenged any one to fight him in single combat, promising that the bride shall be given to the conqueror.”
“And does my—does the king agree to such a base proposal?”
“Well, he objected to it at first, but Gunrig is such a dangerous enemy, and his tribe so powerful, that the king has given in at last. Besides, he knows that the chief is so strong and big, and so well able to use his weapons, that none of the other chiefs are likely to venture a trial with him, or, if they do, they are sure to get the worst of it.”
“You don’t seem to like this Gunrig, I think.”
“No. I hate him. Everybody hates him; he is such a proud brute, but what can we do? when the king commands, all must obey. If I was as big and stout as you are,” added the man with a steady gaze at the prince, “I’d go at this fellow and win the fair princess myself.”
“Perchance I may have a try,” returned Bladud with a light laugh. “Does the princess hate him? and the queen?”
“Ay, worse than poison.”
“Come, let us go and see the sport,” said the prince to his companions, as he hurried away from the river. “You know our language well enough, I think, captain, to understand what has been said?”
“Ay, the most of it; and there is no doubt you are much wanted at this feast.”
In a few minutes our travellers arrived at the suburbs of the little town, which was embosomed among trees and green fields.
As hundreds of people had come in from all the country round, and some of them were Phoenician mariners from ships then in port, our three adventurers might not have attracted much attention, had it not been for the towering height, stalwart frame, and noble bearing of Bladud. As it was, people commented on them, bestowing looks of admiration particularly on the prince, but they did not address or molest them in any way—supposing, of course, that they had come from a distance to see the show; though many wondered that such a strapping fellow as the tall one could have come to the land without having been heard of.
“Perhaps he has only just arrived in one of the ships,” was the sagacious remark of one.
“But the ships have been here a long time, and we have seen all their crews,” was the comment of another.
On arriving at the scene of festivities, they found that an immense assemblage encircled the arena, in which a number of young men were competing in athletic sports. The captain and Maikar gently elbowed their way to the front, where they could see what was going on.
“I will remain in the back row where I can see well enough,” said Bladud. “Keep a look-out for me when you feel lost. I don’t mean to make myself known just yet.”
Chapter Ten
The Sports
At the further end of the ground enclosed for the sports, a slightly raised platform had been prepared for the king and his household. The royal party ascended it soon after the travellers arrived, but the distance was too great to permit of faces being distinguished. Bladud could easily perceive, however, the tall form of his father, and the graceful figure of his mother, as they took their places, closely followed by the chief warriors. These, however, did not bring their women—that privilege being reserved for the household of the king only. Close behind the king and queen walked the young Princess Hafrydda. She was not only graceful, but beautiful, being very fair like her mother, with light-blue eyes like those of her brother Bladud; she had peach-bloom cheeks, and a brow of snow, save where her cap failed to protect it from the sun.
After the princess, and shrinking behind her as if to escape the gaze of the courtiers, or rather warriors, who crowded the platform, came a girl of about nineteen summers, the companion of Hafrydda. Branwen was a complete contrast to her friend in complexion. She was the daughter of a famous northern chief, and was quite as beautiful as the princess, while her jet-black eyes and curly brown hair gave more of force and character to features which were delicately moulded.
There was reason for poor Branwen’s desire to escape observation, for the proud Gunrig was paying her attentions which were far too pointed and familiar in one who was about to marry the king’s daughter. Indeed, it was whispered that he had changed his mind since he had seen Branwen, and would have even resigned the princess in her favour, if he had dared to offer such an affront to the king.
Hudibras himself was the last to ascend the platform. He was a fine-looking, portly man, with a great shock of black hair, a long beard, and limbs so well proportioned that he did not seem taller than other men until he stood beside them. He was a worthy sire of such a son as Bladud, though three inches shorter.
There was a sort of barbaric splendour in the costumes of both men and women, combined with some degree of graceful simplicity. The king was clothed in a softly-dressed deer-skin jacket, over which he wore a wolf-skin with the hair outside. A tunic of purple cotton, brought by Phoenician ships from the far East, covered him as far down as the knees, which were bare, while his lower limbs were swathed in strips of scarlet cloth. Leather sandals, resembling those made by Bladud while in Gaul, protected his feet. No crown or other token of royalty rested on his brow, but over his dark and grizzled locks he wore a species of leather skull-cap which, being exceeding tough, served the purpose of a helmet. On his breast was a profusion of ornaments in the form of beads and bosses of gold and tin, the former of which had been brought from the East, the latter from the mines of his native land. A bronze sword with an ivory sheath, inlaid with gold, hung at his left side, and a knife of the same material at his right. Altogether King Hudibras, being broad and strong in proportion to his height, presented a very regal appearance indeed, and bore himself with becoming dignity. He had married the daughter of a Norse Jarl; and his two children, Bladud and Hafrydda, had taken after their gentle mother in complexion and disposition, though they were not altogether destitute of a sub-current of their father’s passionate nature.
The nobles, or rather warriors—for ability to fight constituted nobility in those days—were clothed in garments which, with sundry modifications, resembled those of the king. As for the women of the court, their costumes were what may be styled flowing, and therefore graceful, though difficult to describe. Like their lords, they were profusely ornamented with precious metals and bands and loops of coloured cloth. Hafrydda and her companion Branwen allowed their hair to fall, after the manner of the times, in unrestrained freedom over their shoulders—that of the former resembling a cataract of rippling gold, while that of the latter was a wavy mass of auburn. Both girls wore wild flowers among their tresses. Of course the queen had rolled up her slightly grey hair in the simple knot at the back of the head, which is more becoming to age, and she wore no ornament of any kind on her head.
Public games are pretty much the same in all lands, and have probably been similar in all times. We shall not weary the reader by describing minutely all that went on. There was racing, of course, and jumping both with and without a run, as well as over a willow-wand held high. There was also throwing the heavy stone, but the method pursued in this feat was not in accordance with modern practice, inasmuch as the competitor turned his back to the direction in which the stone was to be thrown, heeled instead of toed the line, seized the stone with both hands and hurled it backwards over his head.
As the games proceeded it was evident that the concourse became much excited and deeply interested in the efforts of the various competitors—the king and his court not less so than the people.
After the conclusion of one of the races, Captain Arkal left the front row, and pushing his way towards Bladud, whispered—
“It seems to me that you could easily beat the winner of that race, smart though he be. What say you? Will you try?”
“I fear being discovered by my father if I go so prominently before him, and I wish to announce myself in private.”
“Pooh! discovery is impossible! Have you not told me that you were a smooth-chinned boy, and not grown to near your present height when you left home? How can they ever recognise one who returns a sunburnt giant, with a beard that covers half his face?”
“Perhaps you are right,” returned the prince, looking as if uncertain how to act; but the advice of little Maikar corresponding with that of the captain decided him.
In those primitive times the rules and ceremonies connected with games were few and simple. “Entries” were not arranged beforehand; men came and went, and competed or refrained, as they pleased, though, of course, there were a few well-known greyhound-like men and athletes who competed more or less in all games of the various districts around, and whose superlative powers prevented other ambitious men from becoming too numerous. These were, we may say, the “professionals” of the time.
No special costumes were worn. Each man, as he stepped to the front, divested himself of wolf-skin, deer-skin, boar-skin, or cat-skin mantle, and, perchance, also of his upper coat, and stood forth in attire sufficiently light and simple to leave his limbs unhampered.
A long race—ten times round the course—was about to come off, and the men were being placed by the judges, when Bladud pushed through the crowd and made his way to the starting-point. There was a murmur of admiration as his tall and graceful figure was seen to join the group of competitors in front of the royal stand. He gave the Greek letter Omicron as his name, and no further questions were asked him. Divesting himself of the rug or mantle, which he wore thrown over one shoulder after the manner of a plaid, he stood forth in the thin loose tunic which formed his only garment, and tightened his belt as he toed the line.
It was with a feeling of satisfaction that he observed several of the king’s warriors among the runners, and one of these was Gunrig. Being an agile as well as a stout man, he did not consider it beneath his dignity to join in the sports.
The king himself gave the signal to start. He descended from his stand for the purpose, and Bladud was greatly pleased to find that though he looked at him he evidently failed to recognise him.
At the signal, about twenty powerful fellows—mostly young, though some were in the prime of life—started out at full speed for a short distance, as if to test each other; then they began to slow, so as not to break their wind by over-exertion at the beginning. Bladud felt at once that he was more than a match for the best of them, unless any one should turn out to have been concealing his powers. He therefore placed himself alongside of Gunrig, and kept at his elbow about half a foot behind him the first two rounds of the course.
At first Gunrig took no notice of this, but when he perceived that the tall stranger continued to keep the same position, he held back a little, intending to reverse the position for a time. But Bladud also held back and frustrated his intention. Exasperated by this, Gunrig put on what we in these times call a “spurt,” and went ahead at a pace which, in a few seconds, left most of the runners a good way behind. This was received by the spectators with a cheer, in which surprise was fully as prominent as satisfaction, for although they knew that the chief was celebrated for his speed of foot, few of them had actually seen him run before that day, and it at once became evident that if his endurance was equal to his speed, it would go hard with his competitors.
Bladud was left behind a few yards, but, without making a spurt, he lengthened his stride a little, and in a moment or two had resumed his former position at his rival’s elbow.
A wild cheer of delight ensued, for now it was recognised that in all probability the race would lie between these two. As, however, all this occurred in the third round of the course, and all the other runners seemed to be doing their work with steady resolution, there was still the possibility of one or more of them proving themselves, by endurance perhaps, more than a match for the swift-footed. The excitement, therefore, became intense, and, as round after round of the course was completed the relative position of the various men changed considerably.
At the seventh round some, who had been husbanding their strength, let out, and, passing others with great ease, came close upon the heels of Gunrig and Bladud. This was, of course, a signal for enthusiastic cheering. Others of the runners, feeling that their chance of taking a respectable place was hopeless, dropped out of the race altogether and were cheered vociferously as they retired.
At last, in the eighth round, it became practically, as had been anticipated, a race between the leading two, for they were far ahead of all the others by that time, but occupied exactly the same relative position as before. Gunrig became so exasperated at this, that on commencing the ninth round, he made a sudden effort which carried him five or six yards ahead of his rival.
The spectators could not avoid cheering him at this, but the cheer was feeble.
“The tall man is losing wind,” cried one in a disappointed tone.
“I feared his legs were too long,” observed another. Most of the people, however, looked on in anxious silence.
“I did not think he would give in so easily,” murmured little Maikar regretfully.
“He has not given in yet,” returned the captain, with a satisfied nod. “See—he pulls up!”
This was true. To the unbounded surprise of the spectators, Bladud had actually stopped a moment to tighten his belt at the beginning of the tenth round. Then, to their still greater amazement, he put on what we may call an Olympic spurt, so that he overtook his rival in less than a quarter of a minute; passed him easily, ran over the rest of the course at a rate which had not been equalled since Old Albion was created, and passed the winning-post full five hundred yards in advance of Gunrig, amid yells of delight and roars of laughter, which continued for some time—bursting forth again and again as the novelty and surprise of the thing became more and more forced home to the spectators’ minds.
“You have met more than your match to-day, Gunrig,” remarked the king, with a laugh, as the defeated man strode angrily up to the platform.
“I have met foul play,” replied the chief angrily. “He pretended that he could not run, else would I have put on more force. But it matters not. I will have another opportunity of trying him. Meanwhile, there is yet the heavy stone to throw. How now, wench?” he added, turning fiercely on Branwen, who had nearly hidden her face in her shawl, “do you try to hide that you are laughing at me?”
Poor Branwen was in anything but a laughing mood. She was too much afraid of the fiery chief for that, and had merely covered her face, as a modern beauty might drop her veil, to avoid his gaze.
The fair-haired Hafrydda, however, was not so timid, her smile was evidently one of amusement at his defeat, which angered him all the more.
“Gunrig,” said the king, drawing himself up, and speaking impressively, “remember that you are my guest, and that it ill becomes you to insult my women before my face.”
“Pardon me,” replied the chief, with an effort to recover himself. “You must remember that I am not accustomed to defeat.”
“True,” returned the king blandly, “so now you had better take to the heavy stone and come off the victor.”
Gunrig at once went down into the arena and sent a challenge to Bladud.
The latter had returned to his place among the spectators, but his height rendered him easy to find. He accepted the challenge at once, and, as no other competitor for the heavy stone offered, the two had it all to themselves. This was no matter of wonder, for the heaviest stone among those laid out for trial was of a weight that many of the young men or warriors could barely lift, while the stoutest of them could not have thrown it more than a few feet.
Boiling over as he was with indignation, Gunrig felt as if he was endued with more than usual strength. He lifted the stone with ease, faced the platform, heeled the line, and hurled the stone violently over his head, so that it fell with a heavy thud far behind him. Then Bladud took it up.
“Oh! what a stout man he is!” whispered Branwen to Hafrydda, “and what a handsome face!”
“That is true; and I hope he will win,” replied the princess.
“Hush! child, the king will be displeased if he hears you,” said her mother earnestly. “What ever you think, keep silence.”
The queen spoke with such unwonted energy that Hafrydda was surprised, but her thoughts were instantly diverted to Bladud, who made a magnificent cast and sent the stone a yard further than his opponent. But Gunrig seized it again and hurled it a foot beyond that.
“Well done,” said the king. “Go on. It is the best in three heaves that wins.”
Bladud grasped the stone and hurled it back over his head with all his force. Up and up it went as if it had resolved to become an aerolite and visit the moon! Then down it came with a mighty thud ten yards beyond Gunrig’s mark.
Once more the air rang with the enthusiastic plaudits of the multitude, while the king ordered the victor to approach the stand.
Bladud did so with some trepidation, for now he knew that he would have to speak, and feared that though his appearance had not betrayed him, his voice would probably do so.
