by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER LV.
Even the reenforcements of Saturninus's troops could not have changedthe result of the battle around the ships and the camp on thelake-shore: the die had fallen long before, nay, almost at the momentthe conflict began; for the surprise here had been almost more completethan in the assault upon the Idisenhang.
In spite of the chill of the September night, the brave Commander,Nannienus, had had his couch prepared on the high quarter-deck, abovethe second bank of oars of his bireme; a very simple bed, consisting ofa woolen blanket spread over the planks, a coil of rope under his neckand his Breton cloak for a coverlet. In reply to the warning of thecolonist from Arbor, who now relieved the helmsman, against thenocturnal coolness of the lake, he had said, smiling:
"Oh, how often I have crossed at night, no more warmly wrapped, betweenBritain and Gaul! Is the German ocean to be shamed by this fresh waterpond? There is no better sleeping potion than the rocking ship beneathme and the stars above! Unfortunately, tonight there is no moon andthere are few stars. Strange, this constant calling of the swans. Inever supposed there could be so many!"
While thinking of the swan notes, he fell asleep, but they haunted hisdreams. He saw countless white, brown, and black swans coming from bothsides of the marshy forest against his squadron, raising their wingsthreateningly as if to strike.
After a long sleep he awoke: gradually, as is natural after healthyslumber, not all at once, his thoughts began to clear. Was he stilldreaming? It seemed as if the calling and singing of the swans on bothsides actually came nearer, accompanied by a peculiar low whistling,humming, rippling, with now and then a louder splash in the water.Still half asleep he asked the man at the helm: "What is that hummingamong the rushes?"
"The swans, my lord, the wild swans," replied the helmsman, the oldRoman colonist from Arbor. He was a retired member of the Twenty-secondLegion, faithful to the Caesar. "I know it well! I have often seen themat sunset going by thousands to the marshy forests of this lake. Theyare preparing to migrate."
"No," cried the Breton starting up. "Those are no water birds, thesplashing is too loud." Lifting the helmet from his head, he gazed outkeenly.
"The night is black as pitch, but look, something is swimming outfrom the rushes yonder: Swans? No, no!" He tore his sword from itssheath.--"Those are boats! To arms! Raise the anchor! The foe!"
At the same moment a bright light flamed on the Idisenhang, red torchesblazed in the camp on the shore; a bundle of burning straw flew overNannienus's helmet into the half-reefed sail, remained there caught bythe folds, while tongues of fire, fanned by the north wind, crept upthe sail, the rigging, the mast. Already dark forms were climbing upthe sides of the galley from all directions, and wild cries from men,attacked and mortally wounded while sleeping, rang from all the shipsand the camp on the lake shore.
Nannienus sprang with flashing sword toward the first man who boardedthe galley. But the desperate fellow did not seem to care for his ownlife. Without heeding or attempting to parry the blow, which camewithin a hair's breadth of his unprotected head, he thrust a sort ofharpoon (that is, a spear eight feet long with a sharp point and a hookcurving backward, such as the men threw through holes in the ice on thelake in winter to catch the largest sheatfish) into the Roman's bronzebelt, jerked him forward with tremendous force and hurled himoverboard.
Nannienus fell into one of the boats of the Alemanni, at the starboardside of his bireme, and striking his head against a thwart, lay stunnedfor a considerable time. The skiff was empty, all its occupants hadboarded the galley. When he regained consciousness, he saw his own shipand most of the other vessels in flames; while his camp on the shore,and even that of Saturninus, high up on the Idisenhang, were burning.Then he perceived that all was lost. Everywhere the remnant of hisarmada which had escaped the flames was in full flight, pursued by theBarbarians.
He resolved to make his escape to Arbor, and hastily unbuckled theRoman armor that would have betrayed him; his helmet he had lost in hisfall. Then, seeing a German mantle lying among the rubbish in the boat,he threw it on, placed himself at the helm (these boats were rowed andsteered standing), trimmed the coarse square sail to catch the wind,and was soon flying, unnoticed by the Germans, who recognized the boatas one of their own, across the lake toward Arbor.
Once only, the utmost peril threatened him. He had overtaken a loftyRoman ship whose sails were partly burned, but the fire was evidentlybeing extinguished by the crew. He was on the point of hailing it andordering the men to take him on board when, to his horror, he perceivedthat the galley was filled with Alemanni. As he had taken possession ofthe German boat, they were pursuing on the captured bireme other Romanships that were flying to Arbor.
He hastily rowed the skiff away from the great vessel, and nowperceived that in Arbor, too, a terrible conflagration was risingtoward heaven. It was the funeral pyre of Roman rule in the fortress onthe lake. Nannienus saw it with terror, turned his boat west southwest,and tried to gain, instead of the lost Arbor, the distant but safeharbor citadel of Constantia.