Bissula. English

by Felix Dahn

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  Meanwhile the Batavians, Adalo's two companions, and the bear-leaderhad lain chattering peaceably together around the campfire.

  There was, in general, so total a lack of any feeling of unity amongthe various German tribes that the Alemanni did not think of openlyreproaching the Batavians, or even cherishing any secret resentmentbecause they were fighting under Roman standards against other Germans:Alemanni mercenaries also fought against the German, as well as againstthe other foes of Rome.

  So the Roman bronze vessel, filled with dark red Rhaetian wine, waspassed to the two Alemanni also, and the Batavians gladly drank themead which Adalo's companions had brought in long wooden vesselsfastened on their backs. For in those days the thirst of the Alemanniwas great and frequent, and the brave fellows--hospitality in theenemy's camp had not been expected--would have been reluctant to dowithout liquor during the long hours consumed on the journey there, thewaiting, and the return.

  The Sarmatian, with laudable impartiality, drank wine and mead byturns. He, too, at a sign from Rignomer, had taken his seat by thefire. The bear lay stretched at full length at his side, while he beganto throw sharp knives into the air and nimbly catch them again, to theastonishment of the Batavians, who gave him small copper coins. Hislame companion was lying under the bushes, sleeping so soundly that hesnored.

  "Ah," cried Rignomer, wiping his chin with his bare arm and returningthe little cask to the Alemanni, "may Fro reward you for the drink!Nothing has tasted so good since I turned my back on the Issala and mymother's earth-cellar. She brews it even stronger."

  "Wine tastes still better," said his countryman.

  "Better in the mouth, Brinno; but mead and ale taste better in theheart: it's home drink. And the best part is not the moist wave thatruns down the throat, but the memory of many a happy hour of formerdrinks, which hovers over it like the rustling of a heron's wings.Well, Alemanni, when will it come to fighting? And will you seek us, ormust we hunt for you?"

  "As the Duke chooses," replied the other, draining his cup--"andall-ruling Odin."

  The Batavian's face changed.

  "Don't name him to me! I fear _him_; you wearers of hair I don't. I'veseized many a man of you with the left hand by his Suabian tail, andthrust the short Roman sword into his throat with my right. But I fearthe wearer of the mantle! He is hostile to us mercenaries. It seems tome as though he were hovering in the air opposing us, wherever wefight. There, Juggler, drink again. And then show (we've seen _your_tricks) what your bear has learned. Ought not your boy in the bushesyonder, the lame fellow, to have something too? But where is he?"

  "Ho, Zizais, dog of a cripple, are you deaf as well as dumb? Where areyou hiding? Look, there he lies over by the spring, nearer to theditch: he has a fever, and went for water. Now stir yourself, my browndancing maid."

  He whispered in the ear of the animal which, growling, rose on its hindlegs; the juggler put his long staff in its fore-paws, and now theclumsy creature turned slowly in a circle, keeping time to a monotonousmelancholy tune which he first played on his huge flute and then sang,beating time on a bronze cup with a knife-blade. The Romans laughedloudly at the clumsy dancer.

  "What is the dainty damsel's name?" asked Rignomer.

  "Bruna. She can prophesy too. Take heed! Ask what you choose."

  Taking the staff from the bear's paws as he spoke, he laid his hand onher head. The animal now dropped down on her fore-paws and looked upintelligently at her master, who thrust some bread into her mouth.

  "Well, you wise Wala," laughed Rignomer, "will the Romans conquer inthe next battle?"

  The Sarmatian lightly stroked the animal's head against the hair: thebear, growling angrily, shook her head.

  The Batavian started, the laugh died on his lips. "She is Donar'sfriend," he said dejectedly. "He speaks through her. I thought so."

  He spoke as if the battle had already been fought and lost.

  "Well," said the juggler consolingly, "I'll question her for you.Bruna, clever wood spirit, look sharply at this hero: Will he come outof this war safe and go back to his mother who brews the good mead?"

  He lightly stroked the bear from the forehead down toward the tail:Bruna nodded assent.

  "I thank thee, Donar," cried Rignomer cheerily. "What do I care for theRomans' victory? I'm going home soon. Hark ye, fellow, the cleverfortune-teller pleases me. Will you sell her?"

  The Sarmatian looked thoughtful. The question was evidently unexpected."Not willingly--not cheaply--" he said hesitatingly, wishing to gaintime for reflection. "I live by her tricks even more than by my own."

  "You are right, Rignomer," Brinno observed. "It's often very dull incamp when we're not on duty. She would amuse us."

  "And I'd like to startle the Romans, the proud legionaries who lookdown scornfully upon us auxiliaries, but always send us to thebloodiest posts in battle."

  "I suppose the creature came from these forests?" asked Brinno.

  The juggler nodded.

  "Aha," cried Rignomer, laughing, "then we must have her. We'll take herto little Bissula: the brown German to the red one."

  "Who is Bissula?" drawled the juggler.

  "The most charming girl I ever saw," cried Brinno quickly.

  "Yes! Every one who sees her is fond of her," Rignomer went on.

  "Especially we Germans!"

  "So are the Romans, I think; at any rate, most of them. But she oftensits gazing so sadly toward the woods, as if longing for something. Hercountrywoman will amuse her. I'll buy the animal from you."

  "No, no! I don't want to part with her. But,"---his eyessparkled--"I'll tell you. Take me, the bear, and--" (he was going tosay my boy, but as he no longer saw him lying beside the spring, nor inhis former place, he checked himself) "into the camp for a few days,till you are tired of the toy."

  But both mercenaries shook their heads.

  "That won't do! You jugglers and animal tamers are regarded asprofessional spies."

  "The Tribune would have us flogged if we even let you pass through thegate of the camp."

  "Well," replied the bear-leader, "I won't sell her, but I'll leave thecreature with you a few days; I'll soon come back for her."

  "Without pay? That's suspicious!" said Brinno.

  "Not without pay!" the other interposed quickly. "Not on any account! Iearn my living by her. You must pay me."

  "Very well. But listen: is the beast perfectly tame?"

  "Perfectly. If she gets a little unruly, you need only buckle the broadcollar here--do you see?--a little tighter."

  "I see."

  "Don't neglect to tell everybody who has anything to do with theanimal," warned the Sarmatian.

  "Especially the little one," said Brinno. "It would be a pity to have ahair of her head harmed."

  "If only people do nothing to injure her, this clever countrywomanwon't bite them."

  Steps echoed from the camp: Adalo was being escorted back.

  "Zizais, where are you? We must go!" called the Sarmatian, turningtoward the bushes to search for the boy, who came limping slowly out ofthe thicket.

  The woollen blanket was now removed from the envoy's head; with agloomy face he swung himself upon his horse, his two companions did thesame, and all three soon vanished in the darkness of the forest.

  The clank of weapons sounded at the gate; the Thracian spearmen werecoming to relieve the Batavians. At the same moment the bear-leader andthe cripple emerged from the thicket at the left; the former gave theanimal to Rignomer, who tried to drag it with him by the leather collartoward the camp. But the bear resisted, growling and bracing herself onher hind paws, as she looked beseechingly with her intelligent eyes ather master.

  "Come, come, Bruna," urged the latter--"they are good people (hestooped and whispered in her ear) won't you go yet? Didn't youunderstand?"

  He scratched his head in perplexity. Then the cripple limped forward,took from his moleskin knapsack a narrow long blue kerchief,
--it lookedlike a girdle,--and handed it to his master. The latter, laughing, gaveit to the Batavian.

  "Yes, yes. That will help. Hold it before the animal. No! Not in frontof her eyes: her nose. There! See how she sniffs? She is getting thescent. Are you surprised? Yes, the cloth belonged to Bruna's dearestplayfellow. Go on slowly. You see, she is following like a lamb. Well,greet the Roman camp for me, Bruna: I'll soon come for you."