CHAPTER XXVII
THE LADY TENNYS RESERVES
The night passed. One, two, three o'clock went by on the trip tosunrise. Hugh dozed at times despite the strain on his nerves. When atlast he arose to stretch himself, he saw the faint gray meeting andmingling with the black in the skies, and knew that the crisis wasalmost at hand.
Swiftly, silently through the darkness came six forms, hurrying from thedistant end of the pass with the alarm. They sped into the presence ofthe king and Hugh just as the first gleam of light began to make itselfvisible in the east. The messengers had seen the enemy, by that timeentering the pass from the north. In an instant Hugh's little army wasin a state of wild perturbation. One could have heard the gnashing ofteeth had he walked among the groups receiving final orders from KingPootoo. Silence reigned again--the silence of death.
Something that sounded like the heavy breathing of a man came to theears of the waiters. It was the sweep of naked feet over the pebbly,sandy bottom of the pass, the cautious movement of bodies through theair, sounds growing plainer until they resembled the rustling of grassthrough which a snake is gliding. To Hugh the intense moments seemedlike hours. Would they never come to view? Would the ambush succeed? Whywere they so slow? He could have gone ten miles while they were coveringthe scant mile, he swore in his fever of anxiety.
At last the king pointed excitedly down the dark gulch, and, for thefirst time, Ridgeway realized that he was facing an enemy in battle. Hiseyes did not blink, so intently were they glued upon the dim, uncertainobjects that moved in the distance. The sword at his side was gripped ina fierce but unconscious grasp. He placed his hand over his throbbingheart; a damp chill seemed to break through every pore in his body.
"In five minutes this place will be hell!" he muttered, and the kinglooked at him inquiringly.
Slowly the moving mass resolved itself into a thousand entities,swarming towards the opening at the end of the pass. It required all ofhis coolness and self-possession to control the wild impulse to beginthe fight long before the proper moment. To his surprise, not one of hismen moved from his position.
In advance of the main body of invaders was a small detachment ofscouts. Hugh saw that they would reach the trenches ahead of the armyand that the trap would be revealed. His heart almost failed him as helooked down upon that now distinguishable mass crowding up through thegorge. There seemed to be thousands of them, strapping, fierce,well-armed savages. Their spears looked not unlike a field of dancingcornstalks.
It was necessary to check the little advance guard before the planscould go amiss. Ridgeway, suddenly calm and deliberate, despatched theking with instructions to have his men spear the scouts as they came up,driving them back. Pootoo wriggled stealthily to the breastworks below,reaching the position a few moments ahead of the Oolooz squad. Perhapsone hundred yards behind this detail came the swarm of battle men. Therewas something in the advance that suggested a cat stealing upon anunsuspecting bird.
By this time it was quite light, although sunrise was half an hour away.In the gray, phantom-producing gloom Hugh could see his own men behindthe boulders, awaiting his command. A sudden shriek broke on thestillness, causing him to leap as if some one had struck him violently.Then there was a succession of yells and the rushing of feet. He glancednervously toward the trenches. A dozen Oolooz men were flying backtoward the main body, while not a sign of Pootoo or his men was visible.They had delivered a few spears and had dropped back into the trench.
The main body in the pass swayed and jammed in the effort to halt, butthe rear pushed forward so clamorously that the whole mass rolled up theravine fairly into the death trap before it began to understand themeaning of the yells and the sudden retreat of the scouts.
"Now is the time," thought the American. His tall form sprang frombehind the tree at the edge of the little cliff. His white face waswhiter than ever, his eyes flashed, his long frame quivered. Up wenthis sword arm and loud came the cry from his lips:
"Fire!"
As if by magic two long rows of immutable boulders wabbled for a secondand then thundered down the hillside, while ten score of wild, nakedhuman beings sent up yells of horrid glee to the unveiling dome above.
No pen can describe the flight of those death-dealing rocks as theybounded over the sharp declivities, gaining speed with each revolution,scattering earth, gravel and underbrush with the force of a cyclone,leaping at last with a crushing roar into the very midst of thestupefied army. There was a sickening, grinding crash, an instant ofsilence, then the piteous wails and groans and the spectacle of awrithing, rolling, leaping, struggling mixture of human forms. Almost asthe first volley of rocks left its position to roll upon the vanguard ofthe ambushed horde, the howling devils on the hill tops were scurryingtoward the second row, farther to the right. Down poured this secondstorm of rocks, increasing the panic below, literally slaughtering thehelpless wretches by the score.
Ridgeway looked upon this scene of destruction as if fascinated. He waspowerless to move. He had not dreamed that his trap could produce such ahavoc. The bottom of the pass was strewn with grovelling, shriekingbodies, trampled beneath the feet of their uninjured but insanecompanions. Dead and wounded, crushed and maimed, made up the surginghumanity in the fatal pass. The rocks had mowed them down. Devastationhad come like lightning from the skies. It was horrible!
Closing his eyes, he turned away, utterly sick. A moment later heglanced about, hearing the victorious, eager savages on the heightsscreeching like madmen. From all sides they were swarming toward him,concentrating for the swoop down the hillside at his command. He wasawakened to action, his mind grasped the importance of immediatedecision and he was entirely recovered from his momentary palsy. Oneparticular feature of the horrid scene lingered in his memory till hisdying day. The surprised Oolooz men, not knowing whence came the foe orthe nature of the charge down the hills, had quietly turned their spearsto receive the onslaught, expecting men instead of rocks. He neverforgot the brief stand they made.
At first he believed that all had been killed--that the battle was overbefore it began. But even as he turned for another pitying glance below,the recovered foemen started up the hillside, shouting and screamingwith rage. The ground was covered with prostrate or crawling forms, yet,to his amazement, there still seemed to be thousands of vigorous,uninjured warriors.
"Good Lord! There are a million!" he shouted. Leaping forward, he swunghis sword on high and with every nerve aquiver he cried:
"Fire!"
It was the only command he had taught them. It meant fight, pure andsimple. Across the gulch the command could not be heard, but the menover there were only too glad to follow the example set by theircomrades, and from both sides a perfect storm of spears hissedthrough the air.
Up from the rear rushed scores of Oolooz warriors. Despite the viciousattack they crowded steadily up the hillside toward the crest on whichstood Hugh and his practically unbroken front. Through some sort ofnatural generalship they confined their charge to the hills on one sideof the pass. Ridgeway saw this with alarm. He knew that they wouldeventually force their way to the top. Yet the spears from above moweddown the climbing savages like tenpins, while their weapons did littleor no damage. With each distinct volley from above the advancing foefell back, but rallied like heroes. By this time hundreds of them weredown; broad daylight made the pass look like a slaughter pen.
Ridgeway ran among his men, urging them to stand firm, to beat back thefoe, and they responded with an ardor that was nothing less thanfiendishness itself. Their spears were unerringly thrown, but the supplywas diminishing; it was the question of a very few minutes before theywould be without ammunition. Hugh's hope lay in the possibility that thefoe would soon retreat, believing itself unable to cope with anadversary whose numbers were unknown and who held such anadvantageous position.
He soon saw that he would have to quickly withdraw his men from thehill after one of the temporary repulses, taking them to the trench atthe mouth of the p
ass. Almost as he was forming this plan, he realizedthat it would be necessary to carry it out at once.
Far down the pass, beyond his line, the enemy came swarming up theundefended slope, steep as it was, and some of the foremost were alreadyscrambling over the last few feet intervening. He yelled to the men,pointing to the danger spot and then toward the trenches, making a signimmediately thereafter to deliver a telling volley into thestruggling ranks.
The savages seemed to understand, and he devoutly thanked God, for theysent a shower of spears into the horde and then dashed helter-skelter inthe direction of the trenches where lay the king and two hundred men.Wild yells of triumph came from behind, and long before the descent tothe valley was reached by the fleeing white man and his dusky army, theOoloozers were pouring into the tree-covered summit like so many sheep.
Down the hill sped Hugh and his men. Pootoo saw them coming and wavedhis spear frantically. As the retreating army rolled headlong into thetrenches and behind the breastworks, the enemy arrived at the crest ofthe hill. Breathlessly Hugh motioned for Pootoo to call the men from theopposite hill into action at once.
A volley of spears shot into and over the trenches, followed by awhirlwind of the long, slender messengers of death, several of themtaking effect. Pootoo's men returned the volley from behind thebreastworks, but the rampant chargers were not to be checked. Up to thevery edge of the trench they rushed, and from that moment it does notlie within the power of the writer to depict the horrors of the conflictin detail. Hugh's men, well protected and well armed, hurled death intothe ranks, of the fearless enemy as it crowded to the high breastworks.And out from the mouth of the pass poured the mass of Ooloozers who hadnot ascended the hill.
Ridgeway, cutting viciously away at the black bodies as they plungedagainst the wall behind which they stood, felt the spears crash againsthis shield, heard them hiss past, saw them penetrate the earthworks allabout him. At another time he would have wondered how he and his mencould hope to withstand such an onslaught. One thing he did have time toobserve, and that was the surprise, consternation, even fear that cameinto the enraged faces of the assaulting savages when they saw himplainly. They were looking for the first time on the face of a whiteman--the new god of their enemies.
A sudden change in the tide of battle, though brief, transferred thebrunt of conflict to another quarter. A withering rain of spears struckthe enemy on the flank and rear, and down from the opposite hilltoprushed the mob that had formed the other boulder squad at the beginningof the fight, but who had done nothing after the first charge of theOolooz men up the hill. They threw themselves upon the enemy and weresoon lost in the boiling mass. Gaining fresh courage and a renewedviciousness, the men in the trenches forsook the shelter and poured intothe open, Hugh being powerless to check them.
"It is all over," groaned he, when he saw his crazy forces jump into thevery centre of the seething mass. With a white man's shrewdness heremained behind the friendly breastworks, a dozen of his warriorsfighting by his side. Repeated rushes against his position were brokenby the desperate resistance of this small company. Hugh's heavy swordwas dripping with blood; it had beaten in the skull of many a foe, hadbeen driven beneath the shields and through the bodies of others. To himit seemed hours instead of minutes since the battle began; his arm wasgrowing tired, his brain was whirling, his body was dripping withperspiration. Still his blood boiled and surged with savage enjoyment;he was now yelling with the same frenzy that filled the wild men; puredelight grew out of the fall of every opponent that went down underhis sword.
At last the Oolooz leader, a blood-covered savage as large as Pootoo,led his men up to the breastworks, driving the defenders into thetrenches and down the gentle slope. Triumph was theirs apparently, andtheir yelling was full of it. But inch by inch Pootoo fought them back.Once the king looked helplessly at Hugh, as if praying for him as a godto exert his influence in the unequal struggle. That glance was one ofentreaty, surprise, but Hugh could also see disgust in it. It stung himstrangely.
Although he had fought and killed more men than any one on either side,perhaps, he had not gone forth from behind the breastworks; he was notout in the thick of it. With a yell of encouragement to the men, heflung himself over the little wall, alighting on the soft body of acorpse. With his supporters at his heels he dashed to the king's side.Inside of two minutes he was struck in the leg by a spear, his hand wascut by a glancing blow from a club and his shield arm was battered sofearfully that it required an effort to hold it in front of his body.Blood streamed into his eyes and down his breast, his arms grew weak,his blows were feeble, his knees trembled, and he was ready to drop.Twice he went to his knees only to stagger to his feet again. Threetimes Pootoo's mighty club beat down warriors who were about tobrain him.
His mind was chaotic, filled with the now certain defeat and theheart-breaking thought that Lady Tennys would be left to the mercies ofthe victors. Tears were mingling with the blood; his very soul wascrying for strength, for hope, for salvation. In his din-stricken earsran that wail: "What will become of me if you are killed?" Her faceseemed to float in front of his eyes, her voice came trembling andlulling and soft through the hellish sounds, piercing the savagery withgentle trustfulness, urging him to be brave, strong and true. Then GraceVernon's dear face, dim and indistinct, lured him forward into thestrife, her clear voice, mingling with the plaintive tones of theother, commanding him to come to her. He must win! He must win!
But the great horde of Oolooz warriors were at last breaking down thesmaller force and all seemed lost.
Suddenly new life sprang up among the battered defenders. Joyous yellsbespoke a favorable turn of the tide. The enemy fell slowly back,relinquishing the vantage gained. Far behind Ridgeway's fainting formthere arose the shouts of fresh factors in the fight.
He fell against the embankment and slowly turned his eyes toward theriver. Once more Pootoo's gigantic weapon saved his defenceless headfrom the blow of an eager antagonist, but the white man knew naught ofhis escape. His dazed eyes saw only the band of warriors flying over theplain toward the field of battle. Far in their rear came a flutteringwhite form.
Hardly was he able to realize that help was at hand before the released,ferocious young fellows who had been left behind to guard her Ladyshipwere plunging over the breastworks all about him.
The Reserves to the rescue!
Exaltation, glorious and strength-giving, flushed through him and heleaped again into the fray. The new hope had come. He was once morebattling with a mighty vigor. Fury reigned for a moment and then camethe stampede. Down the little valley fled the foe, the conquerors inmad pursuit.
"'THEY HAVE KILLED YOU! LET THEM KILL ME!'"]
He was unable to follow, but his heart glowed with joy as hestaggered blindly toward the earthworks. As he fell, half fainting,against the bloody bank, the agonized figure in white flew up to theopposite side.
"Hugh, Hugh," she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "They havekilled you! Let them kill me!"
"Oh, it's--nothing--" he gasped, trying to smile. "I'm all right,little woman, but--you--got--here--just--in--time! Didn't Isay--get--home--for--lunch--or something--like--that?"
And he knew no more.
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