Helgvor of the Blue River

Home > Other > Helgvor of the Blue River > Page 14
Helgvor of the Blue River Page 14

by J. -H. Rosny aîné


  His sleepy eye, closely resembling the eye of a reptile, fixed itself upon Aoun’s sparkling orbs. It was Zouhr who had interpreted the desire of the Oulhamr. A prey to the dreamy intelligence of the Men-without-Shoulders, which had caused the downfall of his race, he knew that streams and rivers have a source.

  The blue shadow changed to black. Zouhr lit one of the branches which he had brought with him. He could have walked easily without light, for he knew the country very well. They continued their way for a long time, traversing passages, surmounting crevasses, and towards evening they slept, after eating some roasted crayfish.

  They were awakened by a shock, as if the very ground at their feet were rocking. They heard a sound as of stones rolling, then all was silent again. The anxiety this had aroused was soon lulled, however, and they went to sleep again. But when they resumed their march they found their way impeded by masses of rock which had not been there before.

  Then recollection surged up in Zouhr’s mind, “The Earth trembled,” he said.

  Aoun did not understand and did not try to do so. His thought was alert, intrepid and short, it concerned itself only with immediate difficulties or with living creatures. His impatience grew and caused him to hasten his pace so that before the end of the second day they had reached the wall of rock where the subterranean country ended.

  Zouhr lit a fresh turpentine torch so that he might see better; its light traveled along the gneiss and mingled the life of its flame with the mysterious life of the mineral.

  The companions broke into loud exclamations, a large fissure had appeared in the wall.

  “It is the Earth,” cried Zouhr.

  Aoun advanced and leant over the opening. It was wider than a man’s body. Although he knew the danger that lurked in newly-riven rocks, his impatience urged him on towards the crevasse. Walking was difficult, at every moment it was necessary either to climb or leap over the blocks. Zouhr followed the son of Urus; there was in him a kind of latent tenderness which caused him to share the other’s perils, and changed his prudence to audacity.

  The passage grew so narrow that they had to walk slant-wise, and a heavy air seemed to emanate from the rock. Then a sharp projection made the passage narrower still, and as they could not stoop the adventure appeared to be at an end.

  Drawing out his axe of jade, Aoun struck out angrily as he would have struck at an enemy—the projection tottered. The two warriors understood that it would be possible to detach it from the rock. Zouhr fixed his torch into a fissure and united his efforts to those of Aoun. The projection tottered still more; they pushed against it with all their strength. The gneiss cracked, stones rolled down, they heard a dull thud, and the passage was clear.

  It grew larger, they were able to walk without difficulty, the air became pure, and they found themselves in a cavern. Much excited Aoun began to run, until he was stopped by the darkness, for Zouhr remained behind with the torch. The halt was a short one. The Oulhamr’s impatience had infected the Man-without-Shoulders, and he advanced with long strides.

  Soon a light as of dawn filtered through and grew clearer as by degrees the entrance to the cavern became visible and revealed a defile hollowed out between two walls of granite.

  High up a band of sapphire blue sky appeared. “Aoun and Zouhr have scaled the mountain,” cried the son of Urus joyously.

  He drew himself up to the full extent of his great height. An unconscious but profound pride vibrated through all his being; his nomad instincts carried him away with ungovernable ardor. Zouhr, whose nature was more secretive and dreamy, subordinated his emotions to those of his companion.

  But that narrow defile, lost in the recesses of the mountains, bore too great a resemblance to the land of caverns; Aoun wanted to see the free earth again and would hardly take any repose. The defile appeared interminable. When they reached its extreme end the day was already dying, but their dream was accomplished.

  Before them stretched vast pasture lands which seemed to blend with the distant firmament. The mountains rose sheer above it on either side, a formidable world made up of stones, silence and tempests. They appeared immovable, yet drops of water were forever undermining them, carrying them away and dissolving their substance. Aoun and Zouhr could hear the beating of their own hearts. Life with boundless possibilities lay before their eyes. It teemed in the fertile earth, and man’s whole destiny was bound up with those black basalt cliffs, with the granite peaks, with the veins of porphyry, with the gorges where the torrents raged and with the gentle valleys where the stream murmured in tender tones: it hung also on the armies of fir-trees, the legions of beeches, on the pasture lands which had appeared amongst the rocky indentations, on the glaciers lost among the summits, on the deserted moraines…

  The Sun was setting over a panorama of turret-like summits, cupolas and peaks; the forms of a few mouflon sheep appeared mysteriously silhouetted on the edge of an abyss, an old wolf was spying out the solitude from his vantage ground on a rock of gneiss, whilst a bald-headed eagle hovered slowly upon the edge of an amber-bordered cloud.

  A new land called to Aoun’s adventurous soul, and to the dreamy spirit of Zouhr, the last remaining Man-without-Shoulders.

  II. The Saber-Tooth

  Aoun and Zouhr walked for 14 days. A powerful force forbade their returning to the Horde until they had discovered savannahs and forests in which the Oulhamrs would find such meat and plants in abundance as were necessary for the nourishment of human beings.

  It is impossible to live permanently in the mountains. The climate there forces men to abandon them at the end of summer; the earth becomes green again there much later, when the plains are already covered with fresh grass or new leaves.

  More than once evening was upon them before they had killed enough game or discovered sufficient roots to appease their hunger. They were going towards the east and the lands of the south. On the ninth day the beech-trees became more numerous than the fir, then oaks and chestnut-trees increased in their path. Aoun and Zouhr knew that they were nearing the plains. Beasts roamed about them in greater numbers; every evening flesh and roots were roasting at their fire, and the nomads slept under warmer stars.

  On the 14th day they reached the end of the mountains. The plain stretched out interminably along the banks of a giant river. Standing on a declivity of a basaltic promontory, which rose out of the savannah, the two companions gazed on the new country, which had never before been trodden by any of the race of the Oulhamrs or the Wahs. At their feet grew unknown trees: banyans, each of which seemed to form an arbor, palms with leaves like immense feathers; green oak-trees crowned the hillsides, and bamboos reared their giant grasses beneath. Innumerable flowers studded the expanse with hidden joys; all expressed the fertile love and patient voluptuousness of the vegetable world, on which all life depends.

  But it was the animal life which Aoun and Zouhr were especially watching. The beasts appeared and disappeared ac-cording to the nature of the soil, the height of the grasses, the rushes or the tree ferns, and the lie of the hills, the trees and bamboos. They could see troops of lithe antelopes racing away, horses and onagers advancing towards them and zebus feeding peacefully. Deer and gaurs were landing at a turn of the river; a horde of Dholes surrounded an antelope; snakes were crawling cunningly among the grasses; the humped bodies of three camels stood out on an eminence; peacocks, pheasants and parrots appeared at the edge of the palm wood, while monkeys hid themselves among the branches and the hippopotami plunged into the river, where the crocodiles floated like logs. There would never be lack of meat each evening at the fires of the Oulhamr! The promise of a life full of abundance set the hearts of the nomads beating faster, and as by degrees they descended the promontory, the atmosphere became so warm that the stones seemed to burn under their feet.

  They thought that they had only to cover a short distance to reach the plain, when suddenly a rocky peak arrested their progress.

  The Oulhamr gave vent to a cry of rage, but
the Wah said, “This land is full of pitfalls! Aoun and Zouhr have not enough spears. Here no man-devouring beast can touch us.”

  The silhouette of a lion appeared in the distance in the hollow of a hill.

  Aoun replied, “Zouhr has said the right thing! We will fashion many spears and clubs and javelins to bring down our game, and to conquer the man-eaters.”

  The shadows grew long upon the promontory; the light became like the pale hue of honey. Aoun and Zouhr bent their steps towards a young oak, from which they could obtain suitable material for their arms. They knew how to make javelins and clubs, how to work in horn and how to sharpen stones and harden wood by fire. Their hatchets had become dull, and they had not been able to renew their tools since they left the caverns. They had an impression that it would be wise to arm themselves powerfully, before they entered that alarming country.

  They hewed off branches until the Sun set over the distant landscape, like a vast red fire. Then they gathered together the horns, the bones and the stones, which they had brought from the mountains.

  “Night is coming upon us,” said Aoun. “We will work on when the light returns.”

  They had gathered some dry wood, and Zouhr began to make a fire with the aid of a marcasite stone and a flint, whilst his companion stuck a pointed stick into a leg of wild goat.

  They sprang to their feet as a noise like something between a roar and the laugh of a hyena fell upon their ears. They saw a strange animal about 500 cubits from the promontory. It had the shape of a leopard, its fur was red striped with black, and its eyes were large and more brilliant than those of the tiger. Four teeth, very long and sharp, crossed each other outside its jaw. Its whole form indicated swiftness.

  Aoun and Zouhr realized that it belonged to the carnivorous race, but it was unlike any of the wild beasts that were found on the other side of the mountains. It did not appear dangerous to them. Aoun could overcome a beast of that size with a harpoon, a club or a spear. He was as strong and swift as Naoh the conqueror of the Hairy Men, the gray wolf and the tiger.

  “Aoun does not fear the red beast,” he cried.

  A roar sharper and more strident than the first surprised the warriors.

  “Its voice is greater than its body,” said Zouhr, “its teeth are sharper than those of any other flesh eater.”

  “Aoun will fell it with a blow of his club.”

  The animal made a bound measuring 20 cubits, and stooping down, Aoun perceived another monster, a giant, which was trotting along at the base of the promontory. Its skin was naked, its legs were like young willow trunks, and its muzzle was enormous and stupid looking. It was a male hippopotamus in full strength. It tried to regain the river. But the saber-tooth barred its way at every turn, and the hippopotamus came to a standstill, its gaping jaws uttering a growl.

  “The animal is too small to overcome the hippopotamus,” said Aoun. “The hippopotamus does not fear the lion.”

  Zouhr looked on without saying anything. An intense curiosity possessed the two men—all the passion for strife which lies dormant in man.

  Suddenly the saber-tooth made its spring. It alighted on the neck of the hippopotamus and held onto it with its sharp claws. The pachyderm, howling with pain, galloped towards the river. But the sharp teeth penetrated the leather-like skin, and lodged in the thick flesh beneath. An ever-widening wound appeared in the colossal neck and the saber-tooth drank the red flood which flowed from it with sounds of joy and triumph.

  At first the hippopotamus hastened his pace, he no longer howled, his energy was concentrated on regaining the river. There he would plunge into his native pastures and heal his wound, there he would find the joy of renewed life. His massive paws beat down the savannah, and despite the swaying body on his back, he still progressed as fast as a wild boar or an onager. The river was near, its damp smell raised the monster’s courage. But the savage teeth were plunged in once more, a new wound began to open, the hippopotamus reeled. The short legs trembled, the rattle of death came from his monstrous muzzle, and the relentless teeth of his assailant struck ever-deeper.

  Just as he had reached the margin of the rushes, the victim turned slowly around, he was seized with giddiness… He drew one more hoarse breath and then the immense mass subsided.

  The saber-tooth reared himself on his lithe paws, gave forth a roar which caused the buffaloes to flee in the distance and settled himself to devour his yet living prey.

  Aoun and Zouhr remained silent. They felt the approach of carnivorous night, an uncomfortable feeling shivered down their spines, they vaguely understood that this new world was a land belonging to another age, older than that in which the Oulhamr habitually roamed, a land where animals still existed which had lived in the time of the earliest men. The deep shadow of the past settled down with the twilight, and the age-old river flowed all red through the savannah.

  III. The Fire in the Night

  It took them two days to fashion their arms. The spears were tipped with pointed flints or sharp teeth; they had each a harpoon whose point was of horn, two bows which could shoot arrows to a distance, and finally the oak had provided clubs, of which the heaviest, wielded by Aoun, was calculated to be dangerous for even the largest wild animals.

  They climbed down from the point of the promontory into the plain, helping themselves with thongs cut from the skin of a deer. When they were once on the savannah the horde of the Oulhamr seemed immeasurably distant. Aoun was carried away by the strength of his youth and the spirit of conquest which is innate in human animals. He only needed to hide himself in the grass to surprise the wild goat or the spotted deer or the antelope. But he did not kill herb-cropping animals wastefully, for flesh is slow in growing and man must eat every day. When the horde had abundance of provisions, Naoh, the chief of the Oulhamr, forbade hunting.

  Moreover the newness of it all astonished the companions. They watched the gavial, which was 12 ells long, with its long slender snout. They could see it floating in the river or lying in ambush on an islet or among the rushes by the bank. The dryopithecus1 showed his black hands and human body in the branches of the trees. Troops of wild cattle, strong as the Urus and armed with horns which were capable of goring the chest of the tiger or crushing the lion, roamed at will. Black gayals displayed their massive stature and prominent withers.

  A cheetah disappeared suddenly at the turn of a thicket; a pack of wolves, in pursuit of a nylghau, slunk along in a furtive and sinister manner, and the Dholes, with their noses close to the ground, followed closely on a trail or raising their fine heads in the air howled in chorus. Sometimes a tapir rose up terrified from its lair, or fled into the mazes of the banyan-trees.

  Aoun and Zouhr, on the alert and with dilated nostrils, were on their guard against cobras, and in terror of the beasts of prey. These creatures, however, were sleeping in their dens or among the bamboos; only a red panther showed himself in the hollow of a rock towards the middle of the day, and fixed his green eyes on the two men.

  Aoun lifted his club and straightened his muscular form, but Zouhr, remembering the saber-tooth, held back the arm of his companion.

  “The son of Urus must not fight yet.”

  Aoun understood Zouhr’s thought: he argued that as the saber-tooth had shown itself to be more powerful than the lion, even so this red panther might prove to have the strength of a tiger. Naoh, Faouhm and Goun of the Dry Bones, teach prudence as much as courage: one must know one’s enemies. All the same the Oulhamr did not at once lower his cudgel: he cried, “Aoun does not fear the panther!”

  As the wild beast did not stir from the cavern, the men resumed their way. They sought a place of retreat. In that torrid country, the night must teem with carnivorous animals; even near the fire, too many perils threatened the nomads. The Oulhamr had the custom and the art of homemaking. They knew how to protect the mouths of caverns by the aid of boulders, boughs and trunks of trees; they could make shelters for themselves either in open ground or under overhangi
ng rocks.

  All day the companions found nothing, and towards evening they left the river bank. The first stars came out as they halted on a rising ground where only some sparse brushwood and thin grass grew. Protected on one side by a wall of slate they arranged their fire in a semicircle. They were to take turns to watch. Aoun was to be on guard first, because his hearing was sharpest and his sense of smell most subtle; for the early part of the night is the most dangerous.

  A gentle breeze wafted the disagreeable odors of the beasts and the pleasant smell of the vegetable world towards him. The young Oulhamr’s senses were aware of the lightest shades of sound, phosphorescence or effluvia.

  First the jackals showed themselves, furtive, uncertain and graceful. The fire at once attracted and alarmed them. They remained immovable for a time, then, gently pawing the ground, they drew near to the mystery. Their shadows lengthened behind them, their brilliant eyes became alive with red light, their pointed ears were stretched in all directions. They recoiled altogether at the slightest movement that Aoun made. The moment he moved his arm they fled, giving vent to faint yelps. Aoun was not afraid of them even when they came in great numbers, but their strong smell incommoded him, by rendering the emanations from the other wild beasts less distinct.

  Not to waste his weapons he picked up some stones. At his first throw they dispersed. Then the Dholes appeared, their numbers and their hunger making them audacious. They prowled in clusters or darted forward with growls, which passed from one to another as if they were talking among themselves. The fire brought them up short. They were as curious as the jackals and sniffed the smell of the roast meat and of the two men. A confused supplication seemed to be blended with their covetousness.

  When Aoun threw stones at them the advance guard drew back and heaped themselves together in a corner, while threatening howls proceeded from the semi-darkness. They rallied when they were out of reach and sent out scouts, who searched cunningly for openings. The spaces which separated the sides of the fire from the ridge seemed to them too narrow; they returned to them, however, sniffing all the time in an irritating manner. Sometimes they feigned an attack, or a group would gather behind a rock and howl there, in the hope that a sudden panic would yield up the meat to them.

 

‹ Prev