Darkness and Dawn

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE COMING OF THE HORDE

  Now that, for an hour or two at least, he felt himself free andmaster of the situation, Allan devoted himself with energy to theimmediate situation in Cliff Villa.

  Though still weak and dazed, old Gesafam had now recovered strengthand wit enough to soothe and care for the child.

  Allan heard from her, in a few disjointed words, all she knew of thekidnapping. H'yemba, she said, had suddenly appeared to her, from theremote end of the cave, and had tried to snatch the child.

  She had fought, but one blow of his ax had stunned her. Beyond this,she remembered nothing.

  Allan sought and quickly found the aperture made by the smith throughthe limestone.

  "Evidently he'd been planning this coup for a long time," thought he."The great catastrophe of the land-slide broke the last bonds of orderand restraint, and gave him his opportunity. Well, it's his lastvillainy! I'll have this passageway cemented up. That's all themonument he'll ever get. It's more than he deserves!"

  He returned to Beatrice. The girl still lay there, moaning a little inher fevered sleep. Allan watched her in anguish.

  "Oh, if she should die--if she should die!" thought he, and felt thesweat start on his forehead. "She must not! She can't! I won't lether!"

  A touch on his arm aroused him from his vigil. Turning, he sawGesafam.

  "The child, O Kromno, hungers. It is crying for food!" Allan thought.He saw at once the impossibility of letting the boy come near itsmother. Some other arrangement must be made.

  "Ah!" thought he. "I have it!"

  He gestured toward the door.

  "Go," he commanded. "Go up the path, to the palisaded place. Take thisrope. Bring back, with you a she-goat. Thus shall the child be fed!"

  The old woman obeyed. In a quarter-hour she had returned, dragging awild goat that bleated in terror.

  Then, while she watched with amazement, Allan succeeded in milking thecreature; though he had to lash securely all four feet and throw it tothe cave-floor before it would submit.

  He modified the milk with water and bade the old woman administer itby means of a bit of soft cloth. Allan, Junior, protested with yells,but had to make the best of hard necessity; and, after a long andpainful process, was surfeited and dozed off. Gesafam put him to bedon the divan by the fire.

  "A poor substitute," thought Allan, "but it will sustain life. He'shealthy; he can stand it--he's _got_ to. Thank God for that goat!Without it he might easily have starved."

  He tied the animal at the rear of the cave, and had Gesafam fetch agood supply of grass. Thus for the present one problem at least wassolved.

  Beatrice's condition remained unchanged. Now and then she called forwater, which he gave her plentifully. Once he thought she recognizedhim, but he could not be certain.

  And day wore on; and now the hour of noon was at hand. Allan knew thatother duties called him. He must go down among the Folk and save them,too, if possible.

  Eating a little at random and making sure as always that his pistolswere well loaded, he consigned Beatrice and the child into the oldwoman's keeping and left the cave.

  On the terrace he stopped a moment, gazing triumphantly at thebloodmarks now thickly coagulated down the rocks.

  Then, out over the canyon and the forest to northward he peered. Hiseyes caught the signal-fires he knew must be there now, not ten milesaway; and with a nod he smiled.

  "They've certainly trailed me close, the devils!" sneered he. "Sincethe minute they first attacked my two men and me, trying to repair thedisabled Pauillac in that infernal valley so far to northward, theyhaven't given me an hour's respite! Before night there'll be war!Well, let them come. The quicker now the better!"

  Then he turned, and with a determined step, still clad in hisgrotesque rags, descended toward the caves of the Folk, such as stillwere left.

  Where all had been resistance and defiant surliness before, now allhad become obedience and worship. He understood enough of thebarbarian psychology to know that power, strength and dominance--andthese alone--commanded respect with the Folk.

  And among them all, those who had not seen as well as those that had,the sudden, dramatic, annihilating downfall of H'yemba had againcemented the bonds of solidarity more closely than ever.

  The sight of that arch-rebel's body hurled from the parapet hadeffectually tamed them, every one. No longer was there any murmur intheir caves, no thought save of obedience and worship.

  "It's not what I want," reflected Allan. "I want intelligentcooperation, not adulation. I want democracy! But, damn it! if theycan't understand, then I must rule a while. And rule I will--and theyshall obey or die!"

  Quickly he got in touch with the situation. From cave to cave he went,estimating the damage. At the great gap in the terrace he stood andcarefully observed the wreckage in the river-bed below.

  He visited the hospital-cave, administered medicines, changeddressings and labored for his Folk as though no shadow of rebellionever had come 'twixt them and him. The news of Bremilu's death movedhim profoundly. Bremilu had been one of his two most competent andtrusted followers, and Allan, too, felt a strong personal affectionfor the man who had saved his life that first night at the cliffs.

  Beside the body he stood, in the morgue-cave whither it had beenborne. With bowed head the master looked upon the man; and from hiseyes fell tears; and in his heart he felt a vacant place not soon tobe made whole.

  With profound emotion he took Bremilu's cold hand in his--the handthat had so deftly and so powerfully stricken down the gorilla--andfor a while held it, gazing on the dead man's face.

  "Good-by," said he at length. "You were a brave heart and a true.Never shall you be forgotten. Good-by!"

  He summoned a huge fellow named Frumuos, now the most intelligent ofthe Folk remaining, and together they directed the work of carryingthe bodies up to the cliff-top and there burying them.

  By the middle of the afternoon some semblance of order and control hadbecome organized in the colony. He returned to Cliff Villa, leavingstrict orders for Frumuos to call him in case of need.

  Very beautiful the world was that afternoon. In the soft south windthe fronded palms across the river were bowing and nodding gracefully.Overhead, dazzling clouds drifted northward.

  It seemed to him he could almost hear the rustle of the dryundergrowth, parched by the past fortnight of exceptionally hotweather; but, above all, rose the eternal babble of the rapids. Highin air, a vulture wheeled its untiring spirals. At sight of it hefrowned. It reminded him of the Pauillac, now wrecked far beyond thehorizon, where the Horde had trapped him. He shuddered, for thememories of the past week were infinitely horrible, and he longed onlyto forget.

  With a last glance at the scene, over which the ominous threads ofsmoke now drifted in considerable numbers, he frowned. He reenteredthe villa.

  "No matter _what_ happens now," he muttered, "I've got to snatch a fewminutes rest. Otherwise, I'm liable to drop in my tracks. And, aboveall, I must try to pull through. For on me, and me alone, noweverything depends!"

  He sat down by the bed again, too stupefied by the toxins of fatigueand exhaustion to do more than note that Beatrice was, at any rate, noworse.

  Human effort and emotion had, in fact, reached their extreme climax inhim. He felt numb all over, in body, mind and soul. A weaker man wouldhave succumbed long ago to but half the hardships he had struggledthrough. Now he must rest a bit.

  "Bring water, Gesafam!" he commanded. When she had obeyed, he let herwash his wounds and dress them with leaves and ointment. Then hehimself bandaged them, his head nodding, eyes already drooping shutfrom moment to moment.

  His head sank on the bed, and one hand sought the girl's. Despite hiswonderful vitality and strength, Allan was on the verge of collapse.

  Vague and confused thoughts wandered through his unsettled brain.

  What was the destiny of the colony to be, now that the Pauillac waslost and so many of the Folk wiped out
? Were there any hopes ofultimate success? And the Horde, what of that? How long a respitemight be counted on before the inevitable, decisive battle?

  A score, a hundred questions, more and more illusory, blent and fadedand reformed in his overtaxed mind.

  Then, blessed as a balm, sleep took him.

  A violent shaking roused him from dead slumber.Old Gesafam stood there beside him. She had him by the arm.

  "Waken, O master!" she was crying. "O Kromno, rouse! For now there isgreat need!"

  Dazed, he started up.

  "What--what is it now? More trouble?"

  She pointed toward the door.

  "Beyond there, master! Beyond the river there be many movingcreatures! Darts and arrows have begun to fall against the cliff. See,one has even come into the cave! What shall be done, master?"

  Broad awake now, Allan ran to the door and peered out.

  Daylight was fading. He must have slept an hour or two; it had seemedbut a second. In the west the sun was burning its way toward thehorizon, through a thick set of haze that cloaked the rim of theearth.

  "Here, master! See!"

  Stooping, she picked up a long, slight object and handed it to him.

  "One of their poisoned darts, so help me!" he exclaimed. "Cast thatinto the fire, Gesafam. And have a care lest it wound you, for theslightest scratch is death!"

  While she, wondering, obeyed, he hastily reconnoitered the situation.

  He had felt positive the Horde, after his escape from it by deviousand terrible ways, would track him down.

  He had known the army of the hideous little beast-folk, that for ayear now had been slowly gathering from north and east for one finalassault, would eventually find Settlement Cliffs and there make stillanother attempt to crush him and his.

  But, knowing all this, knowing even that the whole region beyond theriver now swarmed with these ghastly monstrosities, the actualityappalled him.

  Now that the attack was really at hand, he felt a strange and suddensense of helplessness.

  And with a bitter curse he shook his fist at the dark forest acrossthe canyon where--even as he looked--he saw a movement of crouching,furtive things; he heard a dull thump-thump as of clubs beating hollowlogs.

  "You devils!" he execrated. "Oh, for a ton of Pulverite to drop amongyou!"

  "Look, master, look! The bridge! The bridge!"

  He turned quickly as old Gesafam pointed up-stream.

  There, clearly outlined against the sky, he saw a dozen--a score oflittle, crouching figures emerge from the forest on the north bank,and at a clumsy run defile along the swaying footpath high above therapids.