Helgvor of the Blue River

by J. -H. Rosny aîné

  Zouhr, always more in favor of temporizing than the Oulhamr, hesitated.

  “The light of the fire shows us up,” continued Aoun.

  He had picked up his club. The Wah once more tried to pierce the darkness; he could discern nothing, and thinking that the unknown enemies might attack them unexpectedly, he approved the action.

  The son of Urus went forward, and Zouhr followed him in silence. They bent down and carefully examined every detail of the ground as they passed, stopping at intervals. Aoun swept their surroundings minutely with his eyes, his ears, and above all with his delicate sense of smell. He held his club in one hand, and his bow with the arrow ready strung in the other. He advanced, observing the odors all the time, and was gradually convinced that there were only two beings…

  There was a rustling sound. A bush moved, then a light step was heard upon the mould. Aoun and Zouhr could discern an indistinct shape in the low underwood, but it was so dim that they could not tell whether it was standing upright or on all fours. The sound of footsteps, however, was that of only two paws; neither the rhesus, the long-tailed monkeys nor even the gibbons would have fled in this manner.

  Aoun said in a low voice, “They are men.”

  They stopped as if transfixed. The shadowy form took on a terrible significance. In face of this new peril Aoun suddenly and almost involuntarily shouted his war-cry. Then a second set of footsteps was heard parallel to the first; after that the sound and the smell diminished. The Oulhamr started in pursuit. He was stopped first by some creepers, then by a marsh; Zouhr asked, “Why did Aoun shout his war-cry? Perhaps those men do not wish to fight us.”

  “They smelt like the Kzamms!”

  “The smell of the Blue-Haired Men is also like that of the Kzamms.”

  The Oulhamr was struck by this reflection. An instinct of prudence kept him motionless for a moment; he sniffed for a long time in the half darkness and said, “They are gone!”

  “They know the forest and we do not!” said Zouhr. “We shall not see them tonight. We must wait for morning.”

  Aoun did not reply. He made a few steps to the left and lay down with his ear to the ground. He became aware of all sorts of faint noises, and among them the son of Urus could only just distinguish the footsteps of the unknown beings. They grew fainter and became indistinguishable, while the sound of a small pack of prowling Dholes came nearer.

  “The Men-of-the-Forest did not dare fight!” he said rising to his feet, “or else they have gone to warn their brothers.”

  They came back to the fire and threw on more branches: their hearts were ill at ease. Then silence settled down on the world of trees; the danger seemed very far away; the Oulhamr slept, while Zouhr watched by the crimson flames.

  Morning found them irresolute. Should they continue their journey or turn back? Zouhr, always less ready for adventure, wished to return once more to the bank of the river, by the chain of rocks, where the alliance with the great feline rendered them invincible. Aoun however, elated by what he had already accomplished, was averse to retreat.

  He said, “Will not the Men-of-the-Forest know how to follow us if we go back? Why should there not be others in the country through which we have passed?”

  Zouhr was all the more ready to agree to these ideas be-cause they had occurred to him before Aoun had given expression to them. He knew well that men wandered further than jackals, wolves, or Dholes. Only birds roamed over greater distances. That they had met no hordes on their way, did not prove that there had been none on their right hand or their left, and that they would not find them in the path of their return.

  Zouhr agreed to take the risk. He was more foreseeing than Aoun, less ready to fight; his courage was equal to that of his companion, but he was more willing to accept the inevitable. The fatality of his race lived in him; all his own people having perished, he sometimes wondered at finding himself still alive. He would have been quite alone without Aoun; all his happiness was bound up in his alliance with the young Oulhamr, and there was no danger he might encounter which could compare with the loneliness of living without his companion.

  The day passed without any alarms: when they had chosen their resting place no peculiar presence was revealed.

  It was in the depths of the forest, but the lightning had set many of the trees on fire and burnt up the grass. Three blocks of schist supplied a refuge which could be sufficiently strengthened with thorns. Aoun and Zouhr roasted a leg of antelope, the flavor of which was pleasant to them; then they laid themselves down beneath the stars. Dawn was near when Aoun awoke. He saw that the Wah was standing up, listening intently, his head inclined towards the south.

  “Has Zouhr heard the lion or the tiger pass?” he asked.

  Zouhr did not know; he thought he had smelt a suspicious odor… Aoun sniffed the air and affirmed, “The Men-of-the-Forest have returned.”

  He pushed aside the thorn barricade, and went slowly towards the south. The smell had vanished; it was only the trail left by the mysterious beings. It was impossible to pursue them in the dusk. The two men went back into the refuge and waited for daylight. A gray light began to spread among the clouds in the east. A bird filled its little chest and twittered. Shifting lights appeared among the clouds. Then day dawned. Amber-colored lakes, emerald rivers, and purple mountains were born and died in the land of trees. Then a scarlet shape appeared, glinting through the forest roves…

  The Wah and the Oulhamr had already started. They were going towards the south, attracted by the unknown. The danger of being taken by surprise appeared to them greater than that of going in pursuit of those who were spying upon them. Their instinct told them that they must know the nature and strength of those beings, so that they might organize their defense, and Zouhr’s prudence agreed with Aoun’s ardor.

  They walked quickly. There was little to impede their progress. It seemed as if paths had been made by the frequent passage of individuals or hordes. Aoun continued to wind the trail. For a long time the scent remained weak, then in the middle of the day, it strengthened. Aoun pursued his course impatiently. The forest began to grow lighter. A moor appeared, studded with trees, bushes and ferns at rare intervals, and with a few stagnant pools…

  Aoun hesitated for one moment, then suddenly he gave a cry: he had discovered quite fresh footprints in the soft earth. Traces of broad feet with five toes were there, which more resembled men’s feet than the feet of the dryopithecus.

  The son of Urus stooped down and examined these footprints for a long time: then he announced, “The Men-of-the-Forest are near, they have not yet regained their covert.”

  The companions started once more. Their hearts beat fast, they did not go near any bush without having first made the circuit of it. When they had gone 3000 or 4000 ells, Aoun pointed out a thicket of mastic-trees, and said in a low voice, “They are there!”

  A shudder ran through them; the sympathy which united them after so many days spent together was now blended with profound anxiety. They had no means of gauging the enemy’s strength. All that Aoun knew was that there were only two of them. He considered himself as strong as Naoh, the strongest of all the Oulhamrs, but Zouhr was feeble; nearly all the warriors of the tribe could wield heavier clubs, and move more rapidly. They must try to carry on the fight from a distance; and if the others had no bows, the advantage would be on the side of the Oulhamr and the Wah.

  “Is Zouhr ready to fight?” asked Aoun with gentle anxiety.

  “Zouhr is ready…but we must try first to make an alliance with the Men-of-the-Forest, like the Wahs did in old days with the Oulhamrs.”

  “Both hordes were enemies of the Red Dwarfs.”

  Aoun advanced first, as he had the keenest sense of smell and he wanted to stand the first shock. His fighting instinct, and the wish to preserve his companion’s life, made him desire this.

  When they were about 100 ells distant, they began to make a circuit around the mastic-trees, stopping from time to time so as to get a
good view of the clear spaces in the thicket. No animal form became visible among the trunks or branches.

  At last the Oulhamr lifted up his loud voice, “The Men-of-the-Forest think they are hidden from us, but we know their retreat. Aoun and Zouhr are strong—they have killed the red beast and the tiger!”

  The thicket kept its secret. Not a sound excepting the light sough of the breeze, the droning of the flies and the far off song of a bird broke the silence. Aoun grew impatient.

  “The Oulhamrs have the noses of jackals and the hearing of wolves! Two Men-of-the-Forest are hidden among the mastic-trees.”

  Yellow-headed cranes fluttered down close to a lotus-covered pool, a hawk hovered above the crests of the trees and the glaring sunlight, which burnt up the grass, revealed a herd of graceful antelopes passing in the distance. Fear, prudence or cunning counseled the unknown beings to keep silence.

  Aoun had fitted an arrow to his bow. Thinking better of it, he gathered some thin branches and trimmed them. Zouhr did the same.

  When they had finished their work they did not at once make up their minds as to further action. Zouhr would have preferred to wait. Even Aoun was full of indecision… The idea of latent danger became unbearable to him, he fitted one of the sticks to the bow and shot it off. It produced no effect. Three times they renewed their efforts without any more success. A dull cry was heard after the flight of the fifth missile; the branches were pushed aside, and a hairy being came into view in front of the mastic-trees.

  Like Aoun and Zouhr he stood on his hind legs, his back forming a convex arch; his shoulders, which inclined forwards, were nearly as narrow as those of the Wahs; his chest projected outwards like that of a dog; his thick head had an enormous mouth, and a retreating forehead, and his pointed ears were reminiscent of those of the jackal and also of those of men; a tuft of hair formed a crest on his skull, while a short bristly growth covered his sides; his arms were shorter than those of a monkey. The newcomer held a pointed stone in his hand.

  Shorter than the Oulhamrs, taller than the Red Dwarfs, he was muscular and wiry. For a moment his round eyes were fixed upon the warriors; the skin of his forehead swelled with fury; they heard the grinding of his teeth.

  Aoun and Zouhr measured his height and watched his movements. Their last doubts vanished, the creature that stood before them was evidently a man. The stone which he held in his hand had obviously been cut; he stood more firmly on his hind legs than the Men-with-Blue-Hair; there was some indefinable quality in his gestures which is not to be found in the entellus, the rhesus, or even in the gibbons or the dryopithecus…

  Zouhr remained anxious, but the great Oulhamr, comparing the weapon of his adversary to his own club, spears and harpoons, and measuring his own tall straight figure against that crouching form, decided that he was the superior. He made a few steps towards the mastic bushes shouting, “The son of Urus, and the son of Earth, do not wish to kill the Man-of-the-Forest!”

  A hoarse voice answered him, which was like the growl of a bear, but it had some attempt at articulation. Another softer voice was heard, and at the same time a second form emerged from the covert. It was more lanky, the chest was narrower, the belly was swollen, the legs were knock-kneed, the round eyes were shifty, and an aggressive fear distended the jaws.

  Aoun began to laugh. He displayed his weapons, and held up his muscular arms.

  “How do the long-haired man and woman expect to fight against Aoun?”

  His laugh astonished the others and lessened their fear. Curiosity appeared on their heavy faces, and Zouhr spoke gently, “Why should not the hairy men make an alliance with the Oulhamr and the Wah? The forest is vast, and there is abundance of prey.”

  He expected that they would not be able to understand, but he trusted like Aoun to the power of articulate speech. He was not mistaken; the hairy man and woman listened with great curiosity, which presently grew into confidence.

  When Aoun was silent, they remained in a stooping posture, still listening intently; then the woman made some sounds which, though they were nearly akin to those of an animal, had a human rhythm about them. Aoun began to laugh again in a friendly manner, and throwing down his weapons, he made peaceful signs to the pair. The woman laughed in return, a stiff, broken, embryonic laugh, heavily imitated by the man.

  Then the Oulhamr and the Wah approached the mastic-trees. They went slowly halting at intervals, taking only their clubs with them. The others watched them approach with occasional starts of fear and preparation for flight; then the Oulhamr’s laugh would reassure them. Finally they were within two paces of each other.

  That was the dangerous and decisive moment. The flat faces of the aborigines once more displayed great mistrust; their eyes rolled, their foreheads swelled. The man involuntarily lifted his stone, but Aoun stretched out his enormous club towards him and began to laugh again.

  “What harm can the little pointed stone do to the big club?” he asked.

  The Wah added in a low musical tone, “Aoun and Zouhr are neither lions nor wolves.”

  The anxiety of the others was already abating. The woman made the first advance. She touched Aoun’s arm murmuring semi-articulate words. Then, as the danger had not materialized, it seemed impossible that it should do so. Animal confidence, which follows all harmless contact, began slowly to grow. Zouhr held out a slice of dried meat which the man devoured, while Aoun gave the woman a cooked root.

  Long before the day was ended, it was as if they had lived months together.

  The fire did not alarm their new companions. They watched it catch one stick after another, and soon became accustomed to warming their limbs at it. The cool wind had subsided. The heat of the soil rose rapidly through the pure light air towards the stars. The wanderers were pleased to see the strange beings sitting near the fire. It reminded them of evenings with their horde, and they felt the sense of security engendered by numbers.

  Zouhr tried to understand the strange sounds and gestures of their new companions. He had already made out that the man was known by an appellation which sounded like Rah, and that the woman answered to the cry of Wao, and he tried to learn whether there were other men in the forest and whether they formed a horde. Several times the newcomers’ gestures seemed to coincide with their own, but it was only a glimpse of real understanding and soon disappeared or became uncertain.

  During the following days the friendship grew closer. The hairy man and woman did not distrust them. A habit had established itself in their brains, which were more embryonic than those of Aoun and Zouhr. There was in them a native gentleness, and a tendency towards submissiveness which was only changed to brutality by fear or anger. They gave way before the big Oulhamr’s ascendancy and Zouhr’s subtle patience. Their sense of smell was equal to that of the son of Urus. In addition to this they were nyctalopes and could see as distinctly as a panther in the dark. The rhesus and entellus monkeys hardly surpassed their agility in climbing trees. They ate meat readily, but they were able to keep themselves alive on leaves, young stalks, grasses, uncooked roots, and mushrooms. They could not run as fast as Aoun, but about equaled Zouhr. Their muscular strength surpassed that of the Wah, but was far inferior to the big Oulhamr’s. They had no weapons except their pointed stones, which they used also to cut stalks and bark, and they did not know how to make a fire or keep it up.

  In old days, in the tertiary forests, their Lemurian ancestors had invented speech and cut the first stones. They had spread themselves over the world. While some were learning to make use of fire, and others discovered the art of extracting it from stones and dry wood; while tools and weapons were being perfected by cleverer hands than theirs, they themselves, having led an easier and more abundant life, remained always the Lemurian men of ancient days. In the course of ages their speech had hardly changed, though it had perhaps lost a few of its articulate sounds; their gestures remained stationary, and though they could adapt them partially to new conditions they lost in doing so some of the
qualities they had possessed in the past.

  As it was they could hold their own against the leopard, the panther, the wolves and the Dholes, who rarely attacked them. Their agility in climbing put them out of the power of the lion or the tiger, whose presence they smelt far off. Their aptitude for nourishing themselves with various kinds of food made them almost ignorant of hunger. Even in winter they discovered many useful roots and mushrooms without much difficulty. They were not called upon to endure the terrible cold to which the Oulhamrs, the Wahs, the Red Dwarfs and the Kzamms were subjected on the other side of the mountains, in the lands of the north and of the setting Sun.

  Notwithstanding this their race was becoming extinct, after having inhabited many different forests and jungles.

  Mysterious causes had destroyed it in the east and the south.

  Other and stronger men, who could make better use of articulate speech, fashion more formidable weapons and employ fire, had pushed back the Lemurian men to the plateau. For 1000 years the conquerors of the plain had only attacked it two or three times in each generation, and had not remained there. The primitive men fled to the recesses of the forest at their approach. These were periods of horror, the recollection of which was deeply engraved on the instinct rather than the brains of the race, and they were the only times when the life of the Lemurians became sad…

  Rah and Wao knew nothing of these vicissitudes. They were young and had not suffered from an invasion. They had seen the fires of a camp two or three times at the extreme end of the plateau. It was a vague picture which revived in their minds when they saw Aoun and Zouhr’s fire.

  Zouhr and Wao began to understand each other better and better. The Wah now knew that there were other Lemurian men in the forest and he had warned Aoun of it. The son of Urus received the news unconcernedly. He thought that as he had made an alliance with Rah, there would not be war between him and the others, and he also imagined they would not dare to fight him. Zouhr did not share his unconcern. He did not imagine that the Lemurians would be inclined to fight—Rah and Wao did not hunt any dangerous beasts—but he feared they might think they were attacked.