The Hot Swamp

Suffice it to say that, after numerous adventures with savage beasts, and scarcely less savage men, and many hair-breadth escapes and thrilling incidents by flood and field, they at last found themselves on the shores of that narrow channel which separated the northern coast of Gaul from the white cliffs of Old Albion. They were guided thereto, as we have said, by the Pole-star, which shone in our sky in those days with its wonted brilliancy, though, probably, astronomers had not yet given to it a local habitation in their systems or a distinctive name.

Of course their passage through the land had been attended with great variety of fortune, good and bad. In some parts they met with natives who received them hospitably and sent them on their way rejoicing. Elsewhere they found banditti, fortunately in small bands, with whom they had to fight, and once they were seized and imprisoned by a tribe of inhospitable savages, from whom they escaped, as it were, by the skin of their teeth.

In all these vicissitudes the gigantic frame and the mild, kindly looks of Bladud went far to conciliate the uncertain, attract the friendly, and alarm the savage, for it is a curious fact, explain it how we may, that the union of immense physical power with childlike sweetness of countenance, has a wonderful influence in cowing angry spirits. It may be that strong, angry, blustering men are capable only of understanding each other. When they meet with strong men with womanlike tenderness they are puzzled, and puzzlement, we think, goes a long way to shake the nerves even of the brave. At all events it is well known that a sudden burst of wrath from one whose state of temper is usually serene, exerts a surprising and powerful effect on average mankind.

Whatever be the truth as to these things, it is certain that nearly every one who looked up at the face of Bladud liked him, and more than once when his ponderous sword sprang from its sheath, and his blue eyes flashed, and his fair face flushed, and his magnificent teeth went together with a snap, he has been known to cause a dozen men to turn and flee rather than encounter the shock of his onset.

Little Maikar, who was himself as brave as a lion, nearly lost his life on one occasion, because he was so taken up and charmed with the sight of one of Bladud’s rushes, that he utterly forgot what he was about, and would have been crushed by the smite of a savage club, if the captain had not promptly turned aside the blow and struck the club-man down.

“At last!” exclaimed the prince, with a gaze of enthusiasm at the opposite cliffs, “my native land! Well do I love it and well do I know it, for I have stood on this shore and seen it from this very spot when I was quite a boy.”

“Indeed! How was that?” asked Arkal.

“I used to be fond of the sea, and was wont to travel far from my father’s home to reach it. I made friends with the fishermen, and used to go off with them in their little skiffs. One day a storm arose suddenly, blew us off shore, and, when we were yet a long distance from this coast, overturned our skiff. What became of my companions I know not. Probably they were drowned, for I never more saw them; but I swam ashore, where I think I should have died of exhaustion if I had not been picked up by an old fisherman of this land, who carried me to his hut and took care of me. With the old man I remained several months, for the fishermen on the two sides of the channel had been quarrelling at the time, and the old man did not dare to venture across. I did not care much, for I enjoyed playing with his grandson, and soon learned their language. After a time the quarrelling ceased, and the old man landed me on my own side.”

“That is interesting. I only wish the old fisherman was here now with his skiff, for there is no village in sight and no skiff to be seen, so how we are to get over I cannot tell,—swimming being impossible and wings out of the question.”

“Ay, except in the case of fish and birds,” observed Maikar.

“True, and as we are neither fish nor birds,” rejoined the captain, “what is to be done?”

“We must find a skiff,” said the prince.

“Good, but where?”

“On the other side of yon bluff cape,” replied Bladud. “It was there that my friend the old fisherman lived. Mayhap he may live there still.”

Pushing on along shore they passed the bold cape referred to, and there, sure enough, they found the old man’s hut, and the old man himself was seated on a boulder outside enjoying the sunshine.

Great was his surprise on seeing the three strangers approach, but greater was his joy on learning that the biggest of the three was the boy whom he had succoured many years before.

After the first greetings were over, Bladud asked if he and his friends could be taken across in a skiff.

The old man shook his head.

“All that I possess,” he said, “you are welcome to, but my skiff is not here, and if it was I am too old to manage it now. My son, your old companion, has had it away these two days, and I don’t expect him home till to-morrow. But you can rest in my poor hut till he comes.”

As there seemed nothing better to be done, the travellers agreed to this. Next day the son arrived, but was so changed in appearance, that Bladud would not have recognised his old playmate had not his father called him by name.

The skiff, although primitive and rude in its construction, was comparatively large, and a considerable advance on the dug-outs, or wooden canoes, and the skin coracles of the period. It had a square or lug-sail, and was steered by a rudder.

“My son is a strange man,” remarked the old fisherman, as the party sauntered down to the shore, up which the skiff had been dragged. “He invented that skiff as well as made it, and the curious little thing behind that steers it.”

“Able and strange men seem to work their minds in the same way,” returned Bladud; “for the thing is not altogether new. I have seen something very like it in the East; and, to my mind, it is a great improvement on the long oar when the boat is driven through the water, but it is of no use at all when there is no motion.”

“No; neither is it of use when one wishes to sweep round in a hurry,” observed the captain, when this was translated to him. “If it had not been for my steering-oar bringing you sharp round when we were attacking the pirate, you would hardly have managed to spit the chief as you did, strong though you be.”

It was found that the new style of skiff was a good sailer, for, although the wind was light, her lug-sail carried her over to the coast of Albion in about four hours.

“There has been some bad feeling of late between the men from the islands and the men of our side—there often is,” said the young fisherman, who steered. “I am not sure that it will be safe to land here.”

“If that be so, hold on close along the shore in the direction of the setting sun,” returned Bladud, “and land us after nightfall. I know the whole country well, and can easily guide my comrades through the woods to my father’s town on the great river.”

The young fisherman did not reply for a few seconds. He seemed in doubt as to this proposal.

“There has been war lately,” he said, “between your father and the southern tribes, and it may be dangerous for so small a party to traverse the lands of the enemy. I would gladly go and help you, but what could one arm more do to aid you against a host? Besides, my father is dependent on me now for food. I may not forsake the old one who has fed and guarded me since I was a little boy.”

“Concern yourself not about that, friend,” replied the prince. “We need no help. During many days we have travelled safely enough through the great woods of the interior, and have held our own against all foes.”

“Without doubt we are well able to take care of ourselves,” remarked the captain, “though it is but fair to admit that we have had some trouble in doing so.”

“Ay, and some starvation, too,” added Maikar; “but having come safe over the mainland, we are not afraid to face the dangers of the isles, young man.”

“I said not that you were afraid,” rejoined the fisherman, with something of dignified reproof in his manner; “but it is not disgraceful for brave men to act with caution.”

“Well said, my old comrade!” exclaimed Bladud; “and so we shall be pleased if you will land us here. But your speech leads me to understand that you have had news of my father’s doings lately. Is the old man well?”

“Ay, King Hudibras is well, and as fond of fighting as ever, besides being well able for it. I am not sure that he would be pleased if he heard you call him the ‘old man.’”

“Indeed? Yet nearly fifty winters have passed over his head, and that is somewhat old for a warrior. And my mother and sister—have you heard of them?”

“Excellently well, I believe. At least, so I have been told by the Hebrew merchant who came over sea with one of the Phoenician ships, and wanders over the whole land with his pack of golden ornaments—which so take the fancy of the women, indeed of the men also. How the fellow escapes being robbed on his journeys is more than I can tell. It is said that he travels by night and sleeps in caves during the day. Some people even think that he is in league with evil spirits. I doubt that; but he told me the other day, when I met him on our side of the channel, that your sister is about to be married to a neighbouring chief—I forget his name—Gunrig, I think—with whom your father wishes to be on friendly terms.”

“Married!” exclaimed Bladud, with a troubled look.

“Ay, and it is said she does not like the match.”

“Does my mother approve of it?”

“I think not, though the Hebrew did not seem to feel quite sure on that point. But your father seems resolved on it, and you know he is not easily turned from his purpose when determined to have his way. He is more difficult to move than a woman in that matter.”

“Come, friend,” said Bladud gravely, “don’t be too free in your remarks on my father.”

“And don’t be too hard on the women-folk,” added the captain, with a grim smile, “they are not all alike. At least there is one that I know of in the East, whose spirit is like that of the lamb, and her voice like the notes of the songbird.”

Maikar looked as if he were on the point of adding something to the conversation, but his thoughts seemed too deep for utterance, for he only sighed.

“Land us in yon creek,” said Bladud promptly. “It seems that I have not returned home a moment too soon. There, under the cliff—so.”

The skiff ran alongside of a ledge of rock as he spoke, and next moment the prince leaped upon the shores of his native land.

With a brief farewell to his old playmate, he turned, led his companions up the neighbouring cliff, and, plunging into the forest, set off at a pace which betrayed the urgency of his desire to reach home.

Although they travelled almost night and day, it took them the better part of two weeks to reach the river, on the banks of which King Hudibras’ chief town was built. They arrived at the eastern bank without mishap, and found that people were crowding over from the western side to attend some display or fête which was obviously going on there. Mingling with the crowd they went to the river’s edge, where numerous wooden canoes and coracles were busily engaged in ferrying the people over.

Approaching a man, whose apparel betokened him one of the poorer class, Bladud addressed him—

“Can you tell me, friend, what is going on here to-day?”

“Truly you must be a stranger if you know not, for every one—far and near—has heard of the wedding of our king’s pretty daughter.”

“Is she, then, married?” asked the prince, scarcely able to conceal his anxiety.

“Not yet, but she is to be married to-morrow—if no champion comes to claim her.”

“How? What mean you?”

“I mean what I say. Gunrig, the great chief whom she is to wed, is a proud and a stout man. Many chiefs have been courting the fair princess, and, in his pride of heart and strength, Gunrig has challenged any one to fight him in single combat, promising that the bride shall be given to the conqueror.”

“And does my—does the king agree to such a base proposal?”

“Well, he objected to it at first, but Gunrig is such a dangerous enemy, and his tribe so powerful, that the king has given in at last. Besides, he knows that the chief is so strong and big, and so well able to use his weapons, that none of the other chiefs are likely to venture a trial with him, or, if they do, they are sure to get the worst of it.”

“You don’t seem to like this Gunrig, I think.”

“No. I hate him. Everybody hates him; he is such a proud brute, but what can we do? when the king commands, all must obey. If I was as big and stout as you are,” added the man with a steady gaze at the prince, “I’d go at this fellow and win the fair princess myself.”

“Perchance I may have a try,” returned Bladud with a light laugh. “Does the princess hate him? and the queen?”

“Ay, worse than poison.”

“Come, let us go and see the sport,” said the prince to his companions, as he hurried away from the river. “You know our language well enough, I think, captain, to understand what has been said?”

“Ay, the most of it; and there is no doubt you are much wanted at this feast.”

In a few minutes our travellers arrived at the suburbs of the little town, which was embosomed among trees and green fields.

As hundreds of people had come in from all the country round, and some of them were Phoenician mariners from ships then in port, our three adventurers might not have attracted much attention, had it not been for the towering height, stalwart frame, and noble bearing of Bladud. As it was, people commented on them, bestowing looks of admiration particularly on the prince, but they did not address or molest them in any way—supposing, of course, that they had come from a distance to see the show; though many wondered that such a strapping fellow as the tall one could have come to the land without having been heard of.

“Perhaps he has only just arrived in one of the ships,” was the sagacious remark of one.

“But the ships have been here a long time, and we have seen all their crews,” was the comment of another.

On arriving at the scene of festivities, they found that an immense assemblage encircled the arena, in which a number of young men were competing in athletic sports. The captain and Maikar gently elbowed their way to the front, where they could see what was going on.

“I will remain in the back row where I can see well enough,” said Bladud. “Keep a look-out for me when you feel lost. I don’t mean to make myself known just yet.”