The Marvellous Land of Snergs

by Edward Wyke Smith

  It really seemed that there was nothing else to do. Sylvia took off her slinkers and then looked round to see if there was anything in the shape of a nightie; but there wasn’t, and the old woman let out such a snarl at the delay that both children bolted into bed, all standing, as sailors say. Gorbo tucked them up with a patchwork quilt and kissed them both very sorrowfully and put the puppy at the foot of the bed; then he went out after the others.

  “There’s your bed,” said Mother Meldrum to Baldry, pointing to a large box with straw in it in the corner of the kitchen.” Curl up and go to sleep. Dream of some funny things for tomorrow.”

  “It’s full of cats,” said Baldry discontentedly, as he looked into the box.

  “Heave them out then, you helpless loon!” shouted Mother Meldrum.

  Baldry sighed deeply and began removing cats. They all growled and spat at him, and one bit him finely in the fleshy part of the thumb. Gorbo whispered to him to keep a good look out for the children, and then picked up his bow and basket and so forth and went out after the old woman.

  What Happened in the Night

  Strange to say, the children dropped off to sleep almost at once. They were tired with the long walk and the bed was fairly comfortable, and Joe, who, as I have said, was always the true optimist, had comforted Sylvia by cheering remarks about everything coming out all right even if it was a beast of a house.

  Joe woke out of a sound sleep with a start. It seemed to him that he had heard a loud crack somewhere. He sat up and looked about him, wondering where he was. Then he remembered the shape of the little window, through which the moonlight was now streaming brightly, just touching Sylvia’s curls as she slept peacefully beside him with the puppy curled up in a ball behind her neck. He lay down again, and was just dropping off again into a delicious sleep when he heard another crack, and this time he was out of bed with a jump, for there was a dark shadow at the window and the lattice was wide open.

  “Joe! “called a whisper, “it’s me, poor old Baldry. Don’t make a sound.”

  “What’s wrong,” whispered Joe, creeping to the window.

  “Everything. Wake up Sylvia and tell her to come quietly.”Baldry was climbing carefully through the window.” We’ve got to get away quickly.”

  Joe was a sensible boy (in some ways) and he wasted no time in questions but shook Sylvia carefully and then put his hand over her mouth and whispered to her not to speak. She rubbed her eyes and stared at Baldry. Then she became fully awake.

  “Yes, Joe,” she said, not trembling very much, “I’ll be a sport.” She jumped out of bed and put on her sIinkers (there were the elements of greatness as well of flirtatiousness in that child). Baldry put his arms about them so that he could whisper what he had to say.

  “There’s a man that’s come in with Mother Meldrum—a giant—and they’re down below talking. And I’m pretty sure it’s Golithos.”

  “Oo—er!”said Joe with a jump.

  “Yes, it’s a great big man with lots of hair and. whiskers and a great silly face, just as you told me. They came in through a back door somewhere, so that they wouldn’t wake me I suppose, and they sat talking arid talking in a back room. So I crept up and looked through a little chink and I saw him quite plain, Joe. Horrid sight. And she got furious with him and called him a cowardly lubber and said if he didn’t do it he shouldn’t have a single bite at them.”

  “What did she mean? “asked Joe.

  “Well, I don’t know what she wanted him to do. But about the biting, Joe, I think she meant you and Sylvia.”

  “Let’s scoot!” said Joe.

  In a minute or. two they had the sheets torn into long strips and knotted together, and Sylvia was tied with this handy rope under the arms and lowered gently out of the window, holding Tiger tightly to her. Joe in the meantime was going down by way of a big creeper that grew against the wall, and by which Baldry had climbed up to them. As soon as he was on the ground Baldry’s red and yellow legs shot out of the window, and in another minute he was down beside them.

  “Come along,” he said, grabbing a hand of each one, and running with them into the trees, there’s enough moonlight to find the path, I think. But in any case we’ve got to get somewhere else quick.”

  “But what about Gorbo? “asked Joe, stopping suddenly.

  “What’ll he say when he finds we’re gone? “

  “Yes, we can’t leave Gorbo behind,” cried Sylvia.” Oh, what are we to do?”

  “We’ve got to go,” said Baldry.” Golithos has come after you, that’s plain. And I’m afraid I’m not much use in a fight; I’ve only got my little bladder stick. But Gorbo’s a hard little man with lots of fight in him, and he’s got his bow and arrows. He’ll be able to look after himself all right, and when he finds we’re gone he’ll chase after us, you can be sure of that. We’ll go on and hide just outside these beastly woods and wait for him to come.”

  This seemed reasonable enough, and they started off again at a run. But though the moonlight was bright enough when it shone on the path there were long stretches where it was quite dark, and Baldry had often to walk ahead of the children and feel the way. They moved on slowly, sometimes running a bit but more often crawling along, always with the thought that they might at any moment hear that dreadful couple coming after them and shouting to them to stop; and it shows what a plucky girl Sylvia was that she could keep up without a murmur, even though her little heart was heavy with fear.

  At last they found the moonlight giving place to the grey light of dawn, and they were filled with joy and thankfulness; for things that are terrible in the night seem almost harmless when the day comes. And, feeble though the light was yet, it enabled them to pick the path much more easily: however bright the moon shines it casts black shadows, but the light of day gets behind things.

  “Do you think they will come after us? “asked Joe. With the little bit of light and the extra speed they were making he felt that the subject was at least bearable.

  “No,” replied Baldry, “not yet awhile I think. Old Mother Meldrum’s too busy jawing and Golithos is too busy eating.”

  “What is he eating?” asked Joe, struck with a sudden idea.” Salad?”

  “No, Joe, he’d got a lot of big beef bones in his bag and he was biting hard at them while he listened to that old beast.”

  “Oh, he’s killed that nice cow! “cried Sylvia. And though she had borne all the terrors so bravely she burst out crying at the fate of the patient animal that had been so friendly to them and given them milk in their sore need.

  The Green Ride

  When at last they came to the end of the dark woods the sun was over the tree-tops and everything looked delightfully bright and cheering. They raced across the wide stretch of turf that separated them from the nice friendly-looking forest on the other side, and they were soon resting in a warm spot just at the outskirts of some spreading oaks, far from the horrible house and the haunted woods.

  Baldry said it was best to stay exactly where they were and keep a good look out for Gorbo, who would certainly chase after them as soon as he came back and found they were gone. Of course if Golithos or the old hag came out first it would be necessary to hide closer, and he looked round and found a nice place, peep in a thicket of bracken, where fifty people could be safely hidden, and to which they could do a bolt at a moment’s notice.

  But now that they had their minds at rest to some degree, the conversation turned on things to eat and drink; there is nothing like exercise and fright to give one an appetite. Sylvia said how nice it would be to have a hot cup of tea with plenty of milk, and Baldry, who belonged to medieval times and therefore did not know of tea, asked if it was anything like hot spiced ale. This led the talk to hot ham, to eggs cooked in various ways, and buttered toast. And the result was they got ravenous.

  Baldry was knitting his brow ove
r the question of how to get breakfast when suddenly they heard clanging sounds and the clump of horses’ feet. And looking about them they saw a cavalcade of some ten or twelve men-at-arms, coming along the green ride with much pomp and glittering of steel and high stepping of fine horses. Baldry stared earnestly at them and then he gave a satisfied chortle.

  “These blokes,” he said (blokes is not the word he used of course, but it is the nearest I can get to it in translation), “are the same ones who rode up to the castle yesterday and frightened dear Percy away. But they didn’t see us, because we got away so quickly, so I think we had better see if they can spare us a trifle. Men-at-arms generally have some bits of food about their persons—cold fried fish and sausage and the like—and they’re generally good-natured on a fine morning. And if they give us some little pieces of money instead we can buy some breakfast somewhere—if there’s a house anywhere in these wild parts.”

  “All right,” said Joe, starting up.” Come along, Sylvia.”

  “No, wait a bit,” said Baldry, “this wants thinking out. To make this thing a success we have to appeal to them in some quaint way. I’ve got it! You go first, Joe, turning somersaults; that will make them stop and wonder. Then you go next, Sylvia, and drop a nice little curtsey and smile at them; that will put them in a good humour. Then I’ll come along walking on my hands, and that will make it a sure thing and they should un-belt at once. First of all let’s make ourselves look nice.”

  The children were highly interested and Sylvia asked him if he had a comb. But he had not, so she fluffed out her curls with her fingers and then knelt over a little forest pool close by to make sure that she looked rather fetching. (She was her mother’s daughter all right enough.) Joe tucked his shirt in neatly and tightened his belt, and Baldry practised an expression of attractive mirth.

  The horsemen approached at an easy walk and they could see the face of the leader, an able-looking person whose well-fitting and polished mail and golden spurs proclaimed him a knight in a prosperous line of business. He rode with his visor raised, talking to one whose plain steel spurs and armour devoid of fancy trimmings showed that he was as yet but a squire. In the still morning air their voices came clearly to the little waiting group.

  “In sooth, good Baldwin,” he was saying, “there is now little chance of honourable adventure in the land. But yester morn I had hope of running a course with the scurril Sir Percival, who has dared to raise his lobster eyes to my mistress and to brag forsooth that she has sent him forth seeking advancement to grace her name nut the pestilent: knave fled and my hope was dashed to the ground—which is a pity, because that’s what I meant to do to him.”

  “Good, my lord,” said the squire, “’tis likely that the Lady Gwendoline did but tell him to chase himself. So at least went the gossip at the buttery hatch.”

  “My lady has a pretty wit, and perchance she put her answer in such wise that the moth-eaten rascal has construed it to his own undoing—or at least to his grievous waste of time. But what mummery have we here, good Baldwin? “

  It was Joe, turning brisk somersaults, and the leader halted his horse and stared down at him. Joe sprang at him and clasped his mailed leg with his arms, as Baldry had told him to, and loudly asked for charity.

  “Unhand my left leg, thou wanton!” cried the leader.” Who told you to behave like this?—But whom else have we here? “

  This was Sylvia, who came tripping up and dropped a dainty curtsey, smiling very prettily at him.

  “By my hilt, a right winsome little lass! Is she not, Baldwin?”

  “Ay, my lord, she has hair like ripe corn and merry blue eyes, and her cheeks are like rose leaves in the morn. A pretty maid—and a saucy, I warrant me.”

  “You silly thing! “said Sylvia, pretending to be coy; “I don’t believe you.”(This sort of behaviour came quite naturally to her.)

  “Nay, little lass,” said the leader, smiling good humouredly, “for the sake of your pretty looks I have here a silver groat “—he pulled off’ his mailed glove and fished about in a little steel pocket in his cuisses, or thigh armour—a quaint little pocket that shut with a spring.” I know I had a groat somewhere—Ah, here we have it!” He bent down and placed the coin in Sylvia’s little palm and patted her cheek.” And if you are hungered my good squire has half a fat capon which he borrowed—But whom else have we here? “

  Whom else they had was of course Baldry, who came along, walking upside-down and singing” When woods are green and foules sing,” a truly difficult feat before breakfast you will say. When opposite the knight he sprang right side up and cut a dexterous caper—and then stared in horror.

  “Scurril rogue! “roared the knight, catching him by the collar with a grip of iron.” At last we have thee who dared to put so scandalous a jest upon His Majesty! Ho, there, seize me this knave and loose him not till he be safe in the royal dungeon.”

  Captives

  Words cannot describe the dismay and mental confusion of Joe and Sylvia at this unhappy change of fortune, or I should certainly try for it. Their pleadings that Baldry be allowed to remain with them met with no satisfactory response from the leader, and when they exclaimed against his conduct in taking away their companion and protector and leaving them alone in the forest, he merely stated that all this talk was unnecessary for they were coming along too. I will pass briefly over their indignation at this new tyranny; of how Joe in the first flush of his wrath called the knight “Blighter!” or how Sylvia stroked his mail-clad hand and implored him not to be a beast. Suffice it to say that all was of no avail and that they were lifted up and placed each in front of a stalwart man-at-arms, while Baldry was ordered to mount a spare horse they had with them.

  Strange to say, now that Baldry was captured and there was no way out of it, he took the matter, with more philosophy than might be expected. He, climbed up on the horse as he was told, loudly calling all to witness that he was doing so under protest, and seated himself facing the tail; and when the squire, Baldwin, sternly reproved him for his folly he apologized in such ironical terms that the men-at-arms were forced to turn away their heads to hide a smile. Encouraged by this he broke loudly into song, but here the knight took a hand in the matter and ordered them to tie his mouth up with a kerchief. Then he placed himself at the head of his men, gave an order, and the troop turned round and went back over the green ride.

  Truly a bitter result of the children’s folly and disobedience to find themselves borne far from their faithful friend Gorbo, to become the captives of a king of ruthless fame.

  And as the troop rode on, two and two, old Mother Meldrum was standing, out of breath, at the edge of the dark wood, glaring at them from under her hand and muttering deep curses.

  PART III

  The Doings at Home

  It will be well at this point of the narrative to return to the land of the Snergs and consider the doings of King Merse II and his friend Vanderdecken.

  During their conference they had come to the decision that the children and Gorbo must have got by some strange chance to the other side of the river and were wandering about in the unknown country beyond, where not even a Snerg had penetrated, or, for the matter of that, ever wished to penetrate. There was nothing for it, therefore, but to devise some means of following them there in force and rescuing them; though from what dangers they were to be rescued no man could say.

  Vanderdecken had considered carefully and asked whether, as the river must reach the sea at some point, they could go along the coast and cross it at its mouth. But King Merse told him that not only was it very far to where the river came to the sea, but the country between was all chasms and inaccessible cliffs, or else wild, matted jungle coming down, to the shore (which was full of quicksand) and that it would take a week’s hard travel to get half-way there—that is to say, to the part where it began to be really difficult—which put the lid on that suggesti
on.

  Then Vanderdecken asked if there was any narrow part of the river, and he was told there was one point, some league or so from the town, where the cliffs were not so very wide apart. But to make up for that they were very high, and more than steep because they leaned over the river, which rushed fiercely below almost in darkness, so fat down was it. Short of flying over, said the King, there was no way to pass there.

  But Vanderdecken asked him to step out on the ground what he thought would be about the distance across, and when this was done he nodded in a satisfied way. Then he asked if there were trees on the farther side, and being told there were many trees on both sides, growing close to the edge of the cliffs he said, “This will be like drinking Schnapps,” and (his own words reminding him) took the King in to have some. After a little more conference, he arranged to meet him at the town on the following morning as I have already related.