The Madman and the Pirate

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  Strange to say, the anger of the Raturans was not assuaged by the rebuffwhich they received at that time. They took counsel again, and resolvedto wait till the suspicions of the Mountain-men had been allayed, andthen attack them when off their guard.

  Meanwhile Zeppa, who did not at all concern himself with these matters,took it into his head one day that he would teach his little favourite,Lippy, to sing. Being a religious man he naturally selected hymns asthe foundation of his teaching. At first he found it rather up-hillwork, for Lippy happened to be gifted with a strong sense of theludicrous, so that when he took her on his knee--the day on which theidea occurred to him--opened his mouth, and gave forth the first notesof a hymn in a fine sonorous bass voice, the child gazed at him for afew moments in open-eyed wonder, and then burst into an uncontrollablefit of open-mouthed laughter.

  Poor Zeppa! till that day, since his mental break-down, the idea ofsinging had never once occurred to him, and this reception of his firstattempt to teach disconcerted him. He stopped abruptly and gazed at thechild with a perplexed expression. This gaze was evidently regarded byLippy as an additional touch of humour, for she went off into renewedexplosions of delight and the lesson had to be given up for that time.Zeppa was gifted, however, with patient perseverance in a remarkabledegree. He renewed his efforts, but changed his plan. From that timeforward he took to humming hymns in a low, sweet voice, as if for hisown amusement. In a short time he had the satisfaction of hearing Lippyattempt, of her own accord, to sing one of the hymns that had taken herfancy. She went wrong in one or two notes, however, which gave Zeppathe opportunity of putting her right. He took her on his knee, and toldher, in her own tongue, to try it again.

  "Listen, this is the way," he said, opening his mouth to give anexample; but the first note had scarcely begun to sound when Lippythrust her brown fist into his mouth, and told him to stop. She wouldsing it herself!

  Accordingly, she began in a sweet, tiny little voice, and her teachergazed at her with intense pleasure depicted on his handsome face untilshe reached the note where she had formerly gone wrong.

  "No--not so; sing thus," he said, giving the right notes.

  The pupil took it up at once, and thus the singing lessons were fairlybegun.

  But the matter did not rest here, for Lippy, proud of her newacquirement soon began to exhibit her powers to her little companions,and ere long a few of the smallest of these ventured to creep intoZeppa's hut while the daily lesson was going on. Gradually they grewbolder, and joined in the exercise. Zeppa took pleasure in helpingthem, and at last permitted as many as could crowd into his hut to doso. Those who could not get inside sat on the ground outside, and, asthe hut was open in front, the gathering soon increased. Thus,insensibly, without a well-defined intention or effort on the part ofany one, the praise of God and the sweet name of Jesus ascended toheaven from that heathen village.

  The assembling of these children for their lesson brought powerfully toZeppa's mind, one day, the meetings of the Ratinga people for worship,and the appropriateness of beginning with prayer occurred to him.Accordingly, that morning, just as he was about to commence the hymns,he clasped his hands, raised his eyes, and briefly asked God's blessingon the work.

  Profound astonishment kept the little ones quiet, and before they hadtime to recover the prayer was over.

  Zeppa's mode of terminating the assembly was characteristic. He did notlike to order the children away, much less to put them out of his hut,and the little creatures, being fond of the teacher, were prone toremain too long. When, therefore, he thought it time to close, hesimply rose up and took himself off, leaving his congregation todisperse when and how it pleased! Sometimes on these occasions he wouldremain away for, perhaps, two or three days, having totally forgottenthe singing class, to the great disappointment of the children.

  One night, while he was thus absent, the men of Ratura delivered theattack which they had long meditated.

  It was an unusually dark and still night; such a night as tends almostirresistibly to quiet and subdue wayward spirits, and induces man tothink of his Creator. Such a night as is apt to fill the guiltyconscience with unresting fears, as though it felt the near approach ofthat avenging sword which sooner or later it must meet.

  Nevertheless, unmoved by its influences--except in so far as it suitedtheir dark designs--the Raturans chose it for the fell purpose ofinvading their neighbours' lands, and exterminating their ancient foes;for, driven to desperation by the taunts and scorn of the Mountain-men,they felt that nothing short of extermination would suffice. And theywere right. Extermination of the sinners, or the sins, was indeed theironly chance of peace! Not knowing the Gospel method of blotting out thelatter, their one resource lay in obliterating the former.

  In the dead of night--that darkest hour when deeds of villainy andviolence are usually done--the Raturan chief once more assembled his menfrom all quarters of the rolling plains and the dismal swamps, until theentire force of the tribe was under his command.

  Leaving the aged men and boys to protect the women and children, thosedark-skinned warriors marched away to battle--not with the flauntingbanners and martial music of civilised man, but with the profoundsilence and the stealthy tread of the savage. Though the work in handwas the same, the means to the end were different; we will thereforedescribe them.

  Had it been a daylight battle to which they went forth, their women andboys would have followed with reserve ammunition in the shape of basketsfull of stones, and spare javelins; but, being a night attack, thefighting men went alone--each armed with a heavy club, a light spear,and a stone knife or hatchet.

  Arrived at the pass where they had met with such a singular repulse on aformer occasion, the main body was halted, and scouts were sent out inadvance to see that all was clear. Then the plan of attack was formed.One detachment was to approach the enemy's village on the right; anotherwas to go round to the left; while the main body was to advance infront.

  There is a proverb relating to the plans of men as well as mice, whichreceives verification in every land and time. Its truth receivedcorroboration at this time on Sugar-loaf Island. On that same night itchanced that the chief Ongoloo was unable to sleep. He sent for hisprime-ministerial-jester and one of his chiefs, to whom he proposed aramble. The chief and jester professed themselves charmed with theproposal, although each had been roused from a pleasant slumber.

  In the course of the ramble they came unexpectedly on one of the Raturanscouts, whom they temporarily extinguished with a club. Ongoloo becameat once alive to the situation, and took instant action.

  "Wapoota!" he said in an excited whisper, "run to the rear of the foe.Go swiftly, like the sea bird. When you get there, yell, shriek--like--like--you know how! As you did last time! Change your ground at eachyell--so they will think you a host. Fear not to be captured. Yourdeath is nothing. Away!"

  A kick facilitated Wapoota's flight, and the two chiefs returned atspeed to rouse the sleeping camp.

  Wapoota performed his part nobly--and without being captured, for he didnot agree with Ongoloo as to the unimportance of his own death! At theunexpected outcry in the rear the Raturans halted, and held a hastycouncil of war.

  "Let us go back and fight them," said one.

  "No use, they are evil spirits--not men," said another.

  Some agreed with the former--some with the latter.

  "While we waste time here," said the leading chief, "the mountain dogswill get ready for us. Come! Forward!"

  The chief was right. Ongoloo's ruse caused delay, so that when theRaturans reached the village they found armed men ready to receive them.These they attacked with great courage, and waged a somewhat scramblingfight until daylight enabled each party to concentrate its forces.

  Meanwhile, at the first alarm, the women and children of the village hadbeen sent off to the mountains for safety. Among the fugitives wereLippy and her mother. These happened to meet w
ith the enemy'sdetachment which had been sent to assault the village on the left. Thewomen scattered and fled. The savage warriors pursued, and several weretaken, among them Lippy and her mother, who were promptly despatched tothe rear. Those of the broken band that escaped continued their flightto the hills.

  They had not gone far when they met Zeppa returning from one of hisrambles. His surprise on hearing that the village had been attacked wasgreat and his anxiety considerable. Although he had refused to go outto war with his entertainers, he felt no disposition to stand idly bywhen they were attacked. Disordered though his mind was, he could makea clear distinction between aggressive war and self-defence.

  "And where is Lippy?" he asked, glancing round on the terrified faces.

  "She is caught and carried away--with her mother."

  "What!" exclaimed Zeppa, with a flash of his bright eyes that told ofnatural rage mingling with the fires of insanity.

  The women did not wait for more. They ran away from him in terror.

  But Zeppa had heard enough. Turning his face towards the village hesped over the ground at a pace that soon brought him in sight of thecombatants, who seemed to be swaying to and fro--now here, now there--asthe tide of battle flowed and victory leaned sometimes to one sidesometimes to the other.

  Zeppa was unarmed. As he drew near he was observed by both parties tostop abruptly in his career, and wrench out of the ground a stake thathad been meant for the corner-post of a newly-begun hut. It resembledthe great club of Hercules rather than a weapon of modern man.

  Whirling it like a feather round his head, the maniac rushed on. He wasthoroughly roused. A feeling of desperate anxiety coupled with a senseof horrible injustice had set his spirit in a blaze. His great size,which became more apparent as he advanced, his flashing eyes, compressedlips, and the wild flowing of his uncut hair and beard, gave himaltogether an aspect so terrible that his foes trembled, while hisfriends rejoiced, and when at last he uttered a roar like a mad bull,and launched himself into the thickest of the fight the Raturans couldnot stand it, but turned and fled in a body under the impression that hewas more than human. He was too fleet for them, however. Overtaking aflying knot, he brought the the corner-post down on the mass, and threewarriors were levelled with the ground. Then, hurling the mighty clubaway as if it were a mere hindrance to him, he ran straight at theleader of the Raturans, who, being head and shoulders above his fellows,seemed a suitable foe to single out.

  Before reaching him, however, his attention was arrested by a cry fromsome one in the midst of the enemy in front. It was the voice ofWapoota, who was trying to break his way through the flying foe to hisown people.

  Fortunately Zeppa recognised the voice, and darted towards his friend,who was hard pressed at the time by a crowd of opponents.

  One roar from the maniac sent these flying like chaff before the wind.It must be added, however, for the credit of the men of Ratura, thatOngoloo and his warriors had backed up their new leader gallantly.

  When Wapoota saw his deliverer, he ran to him, panting, and said--

  "Come with me--this way--Lippy is here!"

  That was sufficient. Zeppa became submissive like a child, while thejester, taking him by the hand, ran with him at racing speed in thedirection of the Raturan villages, towards which the child and hermother were being led by the party which had captured them.

  This was briefly explained to Zeppa by Wapoota, who had chanced toencounter the party when returning from his yelling mission, if we mayso express it.

  The race was a long one, but neither the madman nor his friend flaggeduntil they overtook the party. It consisted of about thirty warriors,but if it had been thirty hundred it would have made no difference inthe effect of Zeppa's roar and aspect as he rushed upon them withobviously awful intentions, though without arms. In fact the lattercircumstance tended rather to increase the fears of the superstitiousnatives. They fled as one man at the first sight of the maniac andLippy was recovered!

  Instantly Zeppa's ferocity vanished, and the tenderest of smiles rippledover his face as he took the child in his arms and kissed her.

  But Wapoota did not feel quite so easy, for in their mad race they hadoutstripped the flying enemy, bands of whom were constantly passing themin their flight before the Mountain-men. His anxieties, however, weregroundless, for no sooner did any of the Raturans set eyes on Zeppa,than, with howls of consternation, they diverged at a tangent likehunted hares, and coursed away homeward on the wings of terror.

  As on former occasions of conquest, the Mountain-men pursued the flyinghost into their swamps, but they did not, as in former times, return toslay the aged and carry the women and children into captivity.

  To the surprise of all his followers, and the anger of not a few,Ongoloo commanded his men to return to their village and leave theRaturans alone. One of his chiefs, who showed a disposition to resisthis authority, he promptly knocked down, whereupon the rest becameobedient and went quietly home.

  On reaching the village, Zeppa went straight to his hut with Lippy onhis shoulder. Apparently he had forgotten all about the recent fightfor, without even waiting to take food or rest he sat down, and began togive his little friend a singing lesson!

  With the air of a little princess, who felt that she was only receivingher due, the child accepted the attention. Her young companions,attracted by the sweet sounds, soon flocked to the old place ofrendezvous, and when the last of the straggling warriors returned fromthe field of battle they found the singing class going full swing as ifnothing had happened.

  But when the wounded and the dead were brought in, other sounds began toarise--sounds of wailing and woe, which soon drowned the hymns ofpraise. As soon as Zeppa became fully alive to this fact he ceasedsinging and went about trying to comfort those who wept but, from hisperplexed air, and the frequency with which he paused in his wanderingsto and fro and passed his hand across his brow, as if to clear away somemisty clouds that rested there, it was evident that his shatteredintellect had taken in a very imperfect impression of what had occurred.

  As if to get rid of this beclouded state, he started off that evening ata quick walk towards his favourite haunts among the hills. No one everfollowed him on these occasions. The natives regarded his person as insome measure sacred, and would have deemed it not only dangerous butinsolent to go up among the rocky heights when the madman was known tobe there.

  Once, indeed, Wapoota, with that presumptuous temerity which is acharacteristic of fools in general, ventured, on the strength of oldacquaintance, to follow him, and even went towards the well known cavewhere he had found refuge and protection in the day of his distress; butZeppa had either forgotten his former intercourse with the jester orintended to repudiate the connection, for he did not receive him kindly.

  On the way up, Wapoota, who felt somewhat timorous about the visit, hadmade up his mind as to the best mode of address with which to approachhis friend. He had decided that, although he was not particularlyyouthful, the language and manner of a respectful son to a reveredfather would best befit the occasion. Accordingly when he reached thecave and saw Zeppa busy beside his fire with a cocoa-nut, he assumed astooping attitude of profound respect, and drew near.

  Zeppa looked up with a frown, as if annoyed at the intrusion.

  "Your unworthy son," began Wapoota, "comes to--"

  But he got no further. He could not well have hit upon a moreunfortunate phrase.

  "My unworthy _son_!" shouted Zeppa, leaping up, while unearthly firesseemed to shoot from his distended eyes. "My son! _son_! Ha!ha-a-a-a!"

  The horrified intruder heard the terminal yell, and saw the maniac boundover the fire towards him, but he saw and heard no more, for his limbsbecame suddenly endued with something like electric vitality. He turnedand shot over a small precipice, as if flung from an ancient catapult.What he alighted on he did not know, still less did he care. It wassufficiently soft to prevent death.

  Another awful cry echo
ed and re-echoed from the heights above, andintensified the electric battery within him. He went down the slopesregardless of gradient at a pace that might have left even Zeppa behindif he had followed; but Zeppa did not follow.

  When Wapoota went over the precipice and disappeared, Zeppa halted andstood erect, gazing with a questioning aspect at the sky, and drawinghis hand slowly across his brows with that wearied and puzzled aspectwhich had become characteristic.

  Returning after a few minutes to his cave, he reseated himself quietlybeside his fire, and, with his usual placid expression, devoted himselfearnestly to his cocoa-nut.

  That was the first and last occasion on which the poor madmanexperienced intrusion from the natives in his mountain retreat.