CHAPTER SIX.
After Zeppa had remained a short time in his new quarters, he began totake an interest in the children of his savage friends. At first themothers of the village were alarmed when they saw their little ones inhis strong arms, playing with his beard, which had by that time grownlong and shaggy, as well as grey like his curly locks; but soonperceiving that the children had nothing to fear from the strange whiteman, they gave themselves no further concern on the subject.
If Zeppa had been in his right mind when the savages first found him, itis probable that they would have hunted him down and slain him withoutremorse--for it is well known that many of the South Sea Islandersregard shipwrecked persons as victims who have no claim on theirhospitality, but are a sort of windfall to be killed and devoured.Their treatment of Zeppa, therefore, must have been owing to somefeeling of respect or awe, inspired by his obvious insanity, coupled, nodoubt, with his commanding size and presence as well as his singularconduct on the occasion of their first meeting.
Whatever the reason, it is certain that the natives amongst whom thepoor madman's lot had thus been cast, treated him in an exceptionalmanner, and with an amount of respect that almost amounted to reverence.At first Ongoloo made a slight attempt to ascertain where his guest hadcome from, and what was his previous history, but as Zeppa always metsuch inquiries with one of his sweetest smiles, and with no verbal replywhatever, the chief felt unusually perplexed, dropped the subject, andbegan to regard the madman as a species of demigod. Of course no oneelse dared to question him, so that ever afterwards he remained in theeyes of his entertainers as a "Great Mystery."
By degrees Zeppa became intimately acquainted with the little boys andgirls of the village, and took much pleasure in watching them at play.They soon found out that he was fond of them, and might have becomerather troublesome in their attentions to him, if he had been a busyman, but as he had nothing whatever to do except follow his owninclinations, and as his inclinations led him to sympathise withchildhood, he was never ruffled by their familiarities or by their wilddoings around his tent. He even suffered a few of the very smallest ofthe brown troop to take liberties with him, and pull his beard.
One brown mite in particular--a female baby of the smallest conceivabledimensions, and the wildest possible spirit--became an immense favouritewith him. Her name was Lippy, or some sound which that combination ofletters produces.
Lippy's mother, a large-eyed, good-looking young woman, withinsufficient clothing--at least in the estimate of a Ratingaite--wastransfixed the first time she saw her little one practise herfamiliarities on their demigod.
Zeppa was lying on his back at the time, in front of his hut, when Lippyprowled cautiously towards him, like a very small and sly kitten aboutto pounce on a very huge dog. She sprang, just as her mother caughtsight of her, and was on his broad chest in a moment. The mother was,as we have said, transfixed with alarm. The human kitten seized Zeppaby the beard and laughed immoderately. Zeppa replied with a gentlesmile--he never laughed out now--and remained quite still.
Having finished her laugh, Lippy drew herself forward until she wasclose to her human dog's chin. At this point her mother would haverushed to the rescue, but she was still paralysed! Having reached thechin Lippy became more audacious, stretched forth one of her littlehands, and seized Zeppa's nose. Still he did not move, but when thelittle brown kitten proceeded to thrust a thumb into one of his eyes, heroused himself, seized the child in his powerful hands, and raised herhigh above his head; then, lowering her until her little mouth waswithin reach, he kissed her.
This sufficed to relieve the mother's fears, so she retired quietly fromthe scene.
She was not so easily quieted, however, some weeks later, when shebeheld Zeppa, after amusing himself one day with Lippy for half an hour,start up, place her on his shoulder, and stalk off towards themountains. He absented himself for three days on that occasion.Lippy's mother at first became anxious, then terrified, then desperate.She roused Ongoloo to such a pitch that he at last called a council ofwar. Some of the head men were for immediate pursuit of the madman;others were of opinion that the little brat was not worth so muchtrouble; a few wretches even expressed the opinion that they were wellrid of her--there being already too many female babies in the community!
While the conflict of opinions was at its fiercest, Zeppa stalked intothe midst of them with Lippy on his shoulder, looked round with abenignant expression of countenance, delivered the child to her mother,and went off to his hut without uttering a word. The councilimmediately dissolved itself and retired humiliated.
It was during one of Zeppa's occasional absences that the Ratura tribeof natives, as before mentioned, decided to have another brush with theMountain-men, as they styled their foes.
We are not sure that the word used in the Ratura language was the exactcounterpart of the words "brush" and "scrimmage" in ours, but it meantthe same thing, namely, the cutting of a number of throats, or thebattering in of a number of human skulls unnecessarily.
Of course there was a _casus belli_. There always is among savage aswell as civilised nations, and it is a curious coincidence that thereasons given for the necessity for war are about as comprehensibleamong the civilised as the savage. Of course among civilised nationsthese reasons for war are said to be always good. Christians, you know,could not kill each other without _good_ reasons; but is it not strangethat among educated people, the reasons given for going to war are oftenvery much the reverse of clear?
The origin of the war which was about to be revived, besides beinginvolved in the mists of antiquity, was somewhat shrouded in the cloudsof confusion. Cleared of these clouds, and delivered from those mists,it would have been obviously a just--nay, even a holy war--so bothparties said, for they both wanted to fight. Unfortunately no livingman could clear away the clouds or mists; nevertheless, as they all sawplainly the exceeding righteousness of the war, they could not inhonour, in justice, or in common sense, do otherwise than go at it.
At some remote period of antiquity--probably soon after the dispersionat Babel--it was said that the Mountain-men had said to the Raturans,that it had been reported to them that a rumour had gone abroad thatthey, the men of Ratura, were casting covetous eyes on the summit oftheir mountain. The Raturans replied that it had never entered intotheir heads either to covet or to look at the summit of their mountain,but that, if they had any doubts on the subject, they might send over adeputation to meet a Ratura deputation, and hold a palaver to clear thematter up.
The deputations were sent. They met. They palavered for abouthalf-an-hour with an air of sententious sincerity, then the leadingchief of the mountaineer deputation cracked the crown of the leadingchief of the Raturan deputation, and the two deputations spent theremainder of that day in fighting. Reinforcements came up on bothsides. The skirmish became a pitched battle. Blood was shed lavishly,heads were broken beyond repair, and women, coming to the help of themen with the baskets of stones, were slain in considerable numbers, aswell as little children who had an inconvenient but not uncommon habitof getting in the way of the combatants. At last the Raturans weredriven into the impregnable swamps that bordered part of their country;their villages and crops were burned, and those of their women andchildren who had not escaped to the swamps were carried into slavery,while the aged of both sexes were slaughtered in cold blood.
It was a complete victory. We are inclined to think that theMountain-men called it a "glorious" victory. Judging from the world'shistory they probably did, and the mountain women ever afterwards werewont to tell their little ones of the prowess of their forefathers--ofthe skulls battered in and other deeds of heroism done--in that just andreasonable war!
As centuries rolled on, the old story came to be repeated again, andover again, with slight variations to suit the varying ages. Inparticular it came to be well understood, and asserted, that thatunconquerable desire of the Raturans to take possession of themountain-top was growing apace
and had to be jealously watched andcurbed.
In one of the centuries--we are not sure which--the Raturan savages madesome advances into their swampy grounds and began to improve them. Thisregion lay very remote from the Mountain-men's villages, but, as itapproached the mountain base in a round-about manner, and as themountain-tops could be distinctly seen from the region, althoughwell-nigh impassable swamps still lay between the reclaimed lands andthe mountain base, these advances were regarded as another _casusbelli_, and another war was waged, with practically the same results--damage to everybody concerned, and good to no one.
Thus was the game kept up until the chief Ongoloo began to strut hislittle hour upon the stage of time.
There are always men, savage as well as civilised, in every region andage, who march in advance of their fellows, either because ofintellectual capacity or moral rectitude or both. Ongoloo was one ofthese. He did not believe in "war at any price." He thought itprobable that God lived in a state of peace, and argued that what wasbest for the Creator must naturally be best for the creature.
He therefore tried to introduce a peace-policy into Sugar-loaf Island.His efforts were not successful. The war-party was too strong for him.At last he felt constrained to give in to the force of public opinionand agreed to hold an unarmed palaver with the men of Ratura. Thewar-at-any-price party would have preferred an armed palaver, but theywere overruled.
The Raturans chanced at this time to be in somewhat depressedcircumstances, owing to a sickness which had carried off many of theirbest warriors and left their lands partly waste, so that their finances,if we may so express it were in a bad condition.
"Now is our chance--now or never," thought the war-party, and pushedmatters to extremity.
On the day appointed for the palaver, one of the most pugnacious of theMountain-men got leave to open the deliberations.
"You're a low-minded, sneaking son of an ignorant father," he said tothe spokesman of the Raturans.
"You're another," retorted his foe.
Having disposed of these preliminary compliments, the speakers paused,glared, and breathed hard.
Of course we give the nearest equivalent in English that we can find forthe vernacular used.
"You and your greedy forefathers," resumed the Mountain-man, "havealways kept your false eyes on our mountain-top, and you are looking atit still."
"That's a lie," returned the man of Ratura with savage simplicity.
Had they been armed, it is probable that the palaver would have closedabruptly at this point.
Seeing that the relations between the parties were "strained" almost tothe breaking-point, one of the less warlike among the Ratura chiefscaught his own spokesman by the nape of the neck, and hurled him backamong his comrades.
"We have _not_, O valiant men of the Mountain," he said, in a gentletone, "looked upon your hill-tops with desire. We only wish to improveour swamps, increase our sweet-potato grounds, and live at peace."
"That is not true," retorted the fiery Mountain-man, "and we must have apromise from you that you will let the swamps alone, and not advance onestep nearer to the top of our mountain."
"But the swamps are not yours," objected the other.
"No matter--they are not yours. They are neutral ground, and must notbe touched."
"Well, we will not touch them," said the peaceful Raturan.
This reply disconcerted the fiery mountaineer, for he was anxious tofight.
"But that is not enough," he resumed, as a bright idea struck him, "youmust promise not even to _look_ at our mountain."
The man of Ratura reflecting how ill able his tribe was to go to warjust then, agreed not even to _look_ at the mountain!
"More than that" resumed the mountaineer, "you must not even wink atit."
"We will not even wink at it," replied his foe. "Still further,"continued the warlike mountaineer in sheer desperation, "you must noteven _think_ of it."
"We will not _think_ of it" answered the accommodating man of Ratura.
"Bah! you may go--you peace-loving cowards," said the disappointedmountaineer, turning on his heel in bitter disappointment.
"Yes, you may go--in peace!" said Ongoloo with sententious gravity,waving his band grandly to the retiring men of Ratura, and walking offwith an air of profound solemnity, though he could not help laughing--inhis arm, somewhere, as he had not a sleeve to do it in.
But the Raturans did not go in peace. They went away with bitteranimosity in their hearts, and some of them resolved to have a brushwith their old foes, come what might.
Savages do not, as a rule, go through the formality of declaring war bywithdrawing ambassadors. They are much more prone to begin war withthat deceptive act styled "a surprise."
Smarting under the taunts of their foes, the Raturans resolved to makean attack on the enemy's village that very night, but Ongoloo was morethan a match for them. Suspecting their intentions, he stalked themwhen the shades of evening fell, heard all their plans while concealedamong the long grass, and then, hastening home, collected his warriors.
It chanced that Zeppa had returned from one of his rambles at the timeand was lying in his hut.
"Will you come out with us and fight?" demanded Ongoloo, enteringabruptly.
The mention of fighting seemed to stir some chord which jarred inZeppa's mind, for he shook his head and frowned. It is possible that,if the savage had explained how matters stood, the poor madman mighthave consented, but the chief had not the time, perhaps not the will,for that. Turning quickly round, therefore, he went off as abruptly ashe had entered.
Zeppa cared nothing for that. Indeed he soon forgot the circumstance,and, feeling tired, lay down to sleep.
Meanwhile Ongoloo marched away with a body of picked men to stationhimself in a narrow pass through which he knew that the invading foewould have to enter. He was hugely disgusted to be thus compelled tofight, after he had congratulated himself on having brought the recentpalaver to so peaceful an issue. He resolved, however, only to give hisenemies a serious fright, for he knew full well that if blood shouldflow, the old war-spirit would return, and the ancient suspicion andhatred be revived and intensified. Arranging his plans therefore, withthis end in view, he resolved to take that peaceful, though thieving,humorist Wapoota, into his secret councils.
Summoning him, after the ambush had been properly arranged and the menplaced, he said,--"Come here, you villain."
Wapoota knew that Ongoloo was not displeased with him by the nature ofhis address. He therefore followed, without anxiety, to a retired spotamong the bush-covered rocks.
"You can screech, Wapoota?"
"Yes, chief," answered the ex-thief in some surprise, "I can screechlike a parrot the size of a whale."
"That will do. And you love peace, like me, Wapoota, and hatebloodshed, though you love thieving."
"True, chief," returned the other, modestly.
"Well then, listen--and if you tell any one what I say to you, I willsqueeze the eyes out of your head, punch the teeth from your jaws, andextract the oil from your backbone."
Wapoota thought that this was pretty strong for a man who had justdeclared his hatred of bloodshed, but he said nothing.
"You know the rock, something in shape like your own nose, at the footof this pass?" said Ongoloo.
"I know it, chief."
"Well, go there; hide yourself, and get ready for a screech. When yousee the Ratura dogs come in sight, give it out--once--only once,--and ifyou don't screech well, I'll teach you how to do it better afterwards.Wait then till you hear and see me and my men come rushing down thetrack, and _then_ screech a second time. Only once, mind! but let it belong and strong. You understand? Now--away!"
Like a bolt from a crossbow Wapoota sped. He had not been in hiding twominutes when the Ratura party came stealthily towards the rock beforementioned. Wapoota gathered himself up for a supreme effort. The headof the enemy's column appeared in view--then there burst, as if from thebosom of
silent night, a yell such as no earthly parrot ever uttered orwhale conceived. The very blood in the veins of all stood still. Theirlimbs refused to move. Away over the rolling plain went the horridsound till it gained the mountain where, after being buffeted from cliffto crag, it finally died out far up among the rocky heights.
"A device of the Ratura dogs to frighten us," growled Ongoloo to thosenearest him. "Come, follow me, and remember, not a sound till I shout."
The whole party sprang up and followed their chief at full gallop downthe pass. The still petrified Raturans heard the sound of rushing feet.When Wapoota saw the dark forms of his comrades appear, he filled hischest and opened his mouth, and the awful skirl arose once again, as ifto pollute the night-air. Then Ongoloo roared. With mingled surpriseand ferocity his men took up the strain, as they rushed towards the nowdimly visible foe.
Savage nerves could stand no more. The Raturans turned and fled as oneman. They descended the pass as they had never before descended it;they coursed over the plains like grey-hounds; they passed through theirown villages like a whirlwind; drew most of the inhabitants after themlike the living tail of a mad comet, and only stopped when they fellexhausted on the damp ground in the remotest depths of their own dismalswamps.
The Madman and the Pirate Page 6