Then the mystery was explained.
The Faytan warriors, fully armed, formed in two long lines just behind us, Joe being placed in front of one line and I before another. It was easy to guess their plan then. They intended to use us for living shields, believing our friends would not dare to fire upon us, and so advance near enough to the ship to board it with a rush and slay the pale-skins by sheer force of numbers.
It was a desperate attempt, cleverly conceived, and based upon my assertion to the Crooked One that our friends would sacrifice themselves for our sakes.
But nature took a hand in the game just then. The sky had been overcast since daybreak, and just as the two lines were advancing into the open, pushing Joe and me before them, the clouds opened and immense drops of rain came pattering down. It grew dark, too, so that we could scarcely see the ship, and the Faytans hesitated and looked inquiringly at their chieftain.
The Crooked One eyed the sky, listened to the low growl of thunder, and ordered his men back to the forest. Next moment the rain came down in floods, and a bolt of lightning crashed overhead and sent a tall tree toppling down upon us. No one was hurt, but it was now so dark we could not see one another, and the great battle of the elements seemed to render our puny human war insignificant.
I realized this would be a good time to make a break for liberty, but our hands were tied and the cords held by stalwart Faytans, so that we were unable to take advantage of the opportunity.
Crash after crash succeeded, and the thunder was deafening, while around us the lightning darted like angry serpents. They have terrible storms in these tropics, at times, and it is no unusual thing for an island to suddenly disappear and never be heard of again. The tempest we now experienced was so extraordinary that I believe it awed even the natives.
I could hear the sea pounding against the rocks and wondered if the boats patrolling the reefs could survive. An hour, perhaps, the storm lasted; but it broke almost as suddenly as it began, and while the trees still dripped rivulets upon us, who were drenched to the skin already, the sun came out brilliantly, shining for the first time that day. The clouds tumbled away hurriedly, as if they had business elsewhere; the wind hushed and was still and only the fierce boom of the breakers remained to remind us of our late fearful experience.
The Faytans also recovered quickly. A few moments sufficed to turn the hundreds of dusky dripping statues into eager, alert warriors, and again the Crooked One ordered the advance — in the same manner previously attempted.
Neither Joe nor I was big enough to fully cover the lines of gigantic warriors crowding behind us; but the idea was that our friends would not dare fire for fear of hitting us. If the natives could in this manner advance close enough to stampede up the rocks to the ship, they hoped to get enough men aboard to conquer our small party very quickly. For at close range the savages had no doubt of their own superiority.
For a time it seemed their plot would be successful. Joe and I held back as much as we could, with that pushing crowd behind us, but steadily we approached the ship and no sign came from those on board. I began to be worried. Surely Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton were too clever to allow a lot of half naked islanders to outwit them; yet not a head appeared above the bulwarks, not a puff of smoke or rifle ball proved that our tried and trusty seamen were prepared to sell their lives dearly and defend the women to the last.
We had reached the first of the rocks that clustered above the shore and had begun to stumble over them when, with an abruptness that fairly made me jump, a near by crack of firearms saluted us and a straggling volley was poured upon the devoted natives. Not from the ship, however; the shots came from a ridge of rocks directly to the left of us, and the Faytans began falling by the dozens.
“Drop, Joe!” I cried, and at the same time fell flat upon my face between two protecting rocks and lay there while the slaughter continued.
I was exulting in the strategy that had outflanked the Faytans and reflecting that our boys had made a dash for those rocks during the darkness of the storm, when their movements could not be observed, when two stout arms seized me and raised me bodily from the ground. I thought at first some of our own people had rescued me, but being turned face down over a broad shoulder I saw the dusky skin of a savage below me and knew that I had been taken by a Faytan.
Instantly I began to struggle and cry out, but bound as I was I could offer no serious resistance and my howls were almost drowned by the crack of rifles, which continued unabated. I know now that my friends saw my plight and Ned and Senor de Jiminez, who were both splendid shots, made one or two attempts to bring down my captor; but my sprawling body so covered him that only his head and legs were free, and to fire at him at all was to put me in imminent danger.
He was a powerful fellow, and fairly ran with me — no light burden, if I am small — back to the forest. There were few of his band as successful and he doubtless owed his own safety to the fact that he bore me upon his back.
The “stinging weapons” had played fearful havoc with the attacking party, and even as the few stragglers who survived — most of them wounded — crept back to the protecting forest, our men sallied from the rocks, hastily stripped the pearl ornaments from the fallen, and regained the ship without a single casualty.
I stood among the trees watching them, with the king at one side of me and the Crooked One on the other side. My joy was equaled by the chagrin of my enemies when we saw Joe was safe with his comrades and being complimented on all sides, while the ladies waved their handkerchiefs to him from the deck of the ship.
We were a silent party. I, because I was so disappointed and disgusted at my hard luck that I could almost have cried, and the others because their prettily conceived plan of attack had been thwarted and their warriors mowed down by scores.
“It is useless, your Majesty,” announced the Crooked One, regretfully; “the weapons of the pale-skins are too bitter for us to face. The other plan is best. It will require time and patience; but it is best.”
“Come, then,” replied the King, briefly. “We will return to the city.”
“What is the other plan?” I inquired, as we were conducted to our litters.
“We shall let thirst and hunger fight for us,” answered Attero, readily. “Your people will soon need fresh water; but they cannot get it without entering the forest, where my warriors will patiently await them.”
I got into my litter, where my bonds were removed and I was borne along by my bearers beside the king.
“Did the boats escape the storm?” I asked presently.
He nodded.
“Of course. There was less danger to them on the water than to us in the forest.”
“But the reefs — ”
“My men are fishes first, and warriors afterward. They are used to storms and do not dread them.”
I did not see how any living thing could withstand the breakers on the reefs, but said nothing more on that subject.
The king was unusually quiet and seemed not to wish to converse with me. I could not well blame him, seeing he had just witnessed the destruction of many of his choicest fighting men.
Dismally enough we made our way back to the Pearl City, where to my satisfaction I was taken to my old room at the back of the temple. I missed Joe, but was glad he was safe with his friends. It was not the room that I cared especially for, but the evidence that I still retained the young king’s good will. Had he ordered me to some other place in close confinement, I might know my end was not very far off.
CHAPTER 14
A DESPERATE ATTEMPT
Attero sent for me the following day and asked me to continue my descriptions of American life. In view of the fact that he was determined upon the destruction of our entire band I thought best to impress upon him our national importance and to assure him that, as our ships sailed every sea, it was only a question of time when others would discover Faytan and come in such numbers that they could not be successfully opposed. Also I expla
ined many of the luxuries and conveniences we enjoyed, of which the Faytans were wholly ignorant, and informed the king that he and his people could readily secure them all in exchange for a portion of their pearls.
“At present the pearls are of no value to you,” said I, “as you can use them only as ornaments. But by disposing of even your smallest ones you can secure practical inventions and manufactured goods that would have the effect of civilizing your people and render their lives far more pleasant and useful.”
Attero thought deeply upon this matter, and I could see my arguments tempted him; but neither during this interview nor others could I overthrow the prejudices inherited from a long line of exclusive ancestors, who believed Faytan was the important portion of the world and none but Faytans must ever be permitted to live upon the island.
“I would like the good things the pale-skins have,” he admitted, “but not at the price we would have to pay. Our riches lie in our pearls; not because they could be exchanged for so many other things, but because they bring us good luck, and the vast collection we have keeps the Pearl God here among us, and thus insures his protection. We are now prosperous and do not miss your great inventions because we have never had them. But if we allowed you to go away and return with more of your people, think what would happen! Our happy life would become one of turmoil and eagerness to gain worldly goods. Some of my people would want more than their share, and that would lead to envy and quarrels. At present all property belongs to the King, and each of his subjects is given what he requires. My people are content with this condition and it would be foolish for me to change it.”
“Then,” said I, “I have another proposition. Allow us to leave this island, and do you come with us as our guest. We will take you to America and show you our cities and our great civilization. You will acquire much wisdom, much learning and experience. And afterward, if you still desire it, we will bring you back here, land you upon your island, and go away without telling anyone of Faytan or its king. We will faithfully keep your secret, your Majesty, and you will be no worse off than before we came, but far richer in knowledge of the world.”
I thought this would win him, for a time; but finally he rejected the plan, as he did all others I suggested. We talked together on several days, but my stories of our life and the wonders of our civilization seemed to content him. One evening he said to me:
“You have given me much to think of, Steele; and after you are dead I shall remember you as a good teacher. I am even sorry the law compels me to put you to death; but it does, and my chiefs and medicine men are beginning to reproach me for the delay.”
“The King is supreme,” I said rather uneasily.
“Because he obeys the same laws his subjects do,” was the answer. “Were I to disobey the laws of my great ancestors there would soon be rebels and traitors in Faytan.”
I remembered the suggestion of the Crooked One.
“The King who makes the laws has power to change them,” I asserted. “If you proclaim a new law, saying that I, your friend, must be permitted to live, your subjects will accept it willingly.”
He smiled and looked at me rather pityingly.
“It would please me to do that,” said he; “but it would be wrong. I must not, for my own pleasure, disobey my forefathers, who in their wisdom said that all strangers must be put to death. Is my own judgment so perfect that I dare oppose that of twenty noble rulers of Faytan? No. I have the power to save you in that way; but I will not do so.”
“Never mind,” said I; “we will speak of this matter again, some other time.”
He gave me a steady look.
“There will be no opportunity,” was his reply. “I like you, Steele. I am glad you have been my friend. But to-morrow you will be put to death.”
“To-morrow!”
“I have waited too long already. My people are unhappy to see a pale-skin alive when the law condemns him to death. It will be to-morrow.”
He turned away.
“Wait, your Majesty — hear me!” I pleaded.
He waved me aside with a haughty gesture and left the room. The Faytans are philosophers and accept death without a murmur. The king, my friend, could not understand my protest.
Friend? Well, it was a queer sort of friendship that made no effort to save me; that had no sympathy for my unhappy fate.
I am a good deal of a coward at times. That night I could not sleep. Thinking over my predicament with sober care I could see no possible way of escape. My prison was well guarded. If I managed to leave it there was no chance of my being able to pass through the native city and gain the ship unchallenged. Still, desperate conditions require desperate remedies, and I had my two revolvers in my pocket, both fully loaded. About midnight it occurred to me to make a bold dash for liberty. If I failed I could be no worse off than now, since I was condemned to die the next morning.
The windows of my room were not glazed or barred. They were big square openings placed about five feet above the floor. By standing on the stone bench that ran around the room I could look out upon the square at the rear of the temple. I had no light; neither was there any light burned outside; but the stars were bright enough for me to observe all surrounding objects distinctly. I found the square deserted save by a solitary form standing almost directly beneath my window, his back toward me. A blanket covered his head and shoulders, for the natives dread the chill night air and usually wear a blanket in this manner when abroad at night.
I waited for the man to move away, but when a half hour passed and he did not stir I decided he was a sentry placed there to prevent my escape. It was the first time a guard of any sort had been set to watch over me.
The sight of his blanket gave me an idea. I gathered up one of the heaviest of those with which my bench was provided and creeping into the thick embrasure of the window I spread the blanket, dropped it swiftly over the head of the sentry, and then leaped down and caught him firmly around the arms, bearing him to the ground with my weight.
Although muffled in the blanket, which obstructed free action, the fellow struggled desperately, and I soon realized I could not subdue him. I dared not fire a revolver, as the sound would bring a horde upon me; so I managed to draw my pocket knife and open the blade. With this I stabbed repeatedly at the blanket, trying to reach the man’s heart, but the cloth was so thick and closely woven that the rather blunt end of my knife would not penetrate it, and all the while I was having greater difficulty in holding him down.
Rendered desperate by this condition I suddenly sprang away and made for the nearest alley that led out of the square, leaving the sentry to fumble with the blanket until he could free his head.
Before he could do this I had entered a narrow street, up which I ran at my best speed. By good luck it led westward, and I had visions of making a successful run across the island when suddenly in the darkness a pair of strong arms were flung around me and I was pinioned in a viselike grip.
“Pardon me,” said a low, sneering voice, in the native tongue. “It is not wise to walk out at night. The dews of Faytan are dangerous.”
It was the Crooked One.
Panting and breathless I stood an unresisting prisoner, for I knew the game was up. But I did not reply, understanding that any remark would only call forth more triumphant sneers. As we stood there footsteps hastily approached and another joined us.
“Have you got him?” asked the newcomer.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Good,” said Attero. “He nearly smothered me.”
“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” said I. “I had no idea it was you.”
“And had you known — what then?” he asked.
“I believe I should have acted in the same way.”
The Crooked One laughed and said:
“While I hold him, your Majesty will do well to search him. He may carry dangerous weapons.”
Attero had no hesitation in obeying this request. He took away my revolvers. My knif
e I had dropped in the square. Then I was led back to my prison.
“I suspected,” said the Crooked One as he thrust me into my old room, “that on this night you would attempt to escape, knowing you are to die to-morrow.”
“It was but natural,” added the king, calmly. “So we watched, my chieftain and I, that we might prevent it. Good night, Steele. Myself, I cannot sleep because of your impending doom. It makes me very unhappy. But die you must.”
With these words he left me, but the Crooked One remained to say: “Every street is well guarded. Escape is impossible. Be patient, therefore, for no man can evade his fate.”
He shuffled after the king, and left alone I threw myself upon the bench and waited for daylight.
CHAPTER 15
MY EXECUTION
I have several times been in danger of a violent death, and yet I still survive. “No man can evade his fate,” said the Crooked One; yet it is equally true that no man knows or can foresee his fate. One who frequently escapes death learns to fall back upon philosophy and ceases to worry overmuch.
I must have fallen asleep after a time, for when I opened my eyes the sun was flooding the room and my usual breakfast of milk and fruits stood upon the bench near me. I had scarcely finished the meal when in came a dozen Faytan warriors, headed by the Crooked One himself.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“What if I am not?” I retorted. “You intend I shall go with you, of course.”
He inclined his head gravely — not mockingly. Even he, standing in the presence of death, respected my feelings.
They did not bind me, but led me out between close files of the warriors. In the square was a vast crowd, silent and attentive. With my guard I passed to the east and took the broadest thoroughfare — that leading to the bay.
I had never been in this direction before, but I remembered seeing the water front from the airship when Joe and I first entered the city. The crowd swayed back to let us pass and then closed up behind us, following after in a long procession.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 726