ready forthem in two winks."
There was no occasion, however, to give this advice to his friends, foralready the birds had been plucked, split open at the breast, laid flat,and their interiors scraped out in a summary manner. The plucking wasnot, indeed, all that could be wished, but what fingers failed to do asinge in the flames accomplished to the perfect satisfaction of men whowere in no way particular. Sharp-pointed sticks were then thrustthrough the expanded carcases, and they were stuck up in front of theblaze to roast.
Underdone meat is an abomination to some, a luxury to others--remindingone of that very ancient proverb, "Tastes differ." We cannot saywhether on this occasion the uniformity of action in our heroes was theresult of taste or haste, but certain it is that before the fowls wereonly half-roasted on one side, they were turned over so as to let thefire get at the other, and breakfast was begun while the meat was yetfrightfully underdone.
Thereafter the three men arose, like giants refreshed--if we may say so,for Maikar was indeed mentally, though not physically, a giant--buckledon their swords, slung bows and quivers on their backs, along with theturkey remains, and took up shields and javelins. Having laid theircourse by the stars the night before, they set out on their journeythrough the unknown wilderness.
The part of the country through which they passed at the beginning ofthe march was broken and diversified by hill and dale; in some placesclothed with forests, in others covered with grass, on which many wildanimals were seen browsing. These, however, were remarkably timid, andfled at the first sign of the approaching travellers, so that it wasimpossible to get within bow-shot of them.
"From this I judge that they are much hunted," said Bladud, halting on aridge to note the wild flight, of a herd of deer which had just caughteight of them.
"If so, we are likely to fall in with the hunters before long, I fear,"remarked the captain.
"Why do you fear?" asked Maikar.
"Because they may be numerous and savage, and may take a fancy to makeslaves of us, and as we number only three we could not resist theirfancy without losing our lives."
"That would be a pity," returned Maikar, "for we have only one life tolose."
"No; we have three lives to lose amongst us," objected the captain.
"Which makes one each, does it not?" retorted the seaman.
"True, Maikar, and we must lose them all, and more if we had them,rather than become slaves."
"You are right, captain. We never, _never_ shall be slaves," saidBladud.
They say that history repeats itself. Perhaps sentiment does the same.At all events, the British prince gave utterance that day to awell-known sentiment, which has been embalmed in modern song and shoutedby many a Briton with tremendous enthusiasm--though not absolute truth.
"Captain Arkal," said the little seaman, as they jogged quietly down thesunny slope of a hill, at the bottom of which was a marsh full ofrushes, "how do you manage to find your way through such a tangledcountry as this?"
"By observing the stars," answered the captain.
"But I have observed the stars since I was a little boy," objectedMaikar, "and I see nothing but a wild confusion of shining points. Howcan these guide you? Besides, there are no stars in the daytime."
"True, Maikar; but we have the sun during the day."
Maikar shook his head perplexedly.
"Listen," said the captain, "and I will try to enlighten your dark mind;but don't object else you'll never understand. All stars are notalike--d'ye understand that?"
"Any fool could understand that!"
"Well, then, of course _you_ can understand it. Now, you have noticed,no doubt, that some stars are in groups, which groups may alter theirposition with regard to other groups, but which never change with regardto each other."
"Each other," repeated Maikar, checking off each statement with a nodand a wave of his javelin.
"Well," continued the captain, "there's one group of stars--about six--plainly to be seen on most fine nights, two stars of which are alwayspretty much in a line with a little star a short way in front of them--d'ye see?"
"Yes."
"Well, that star shows exactly where the cold regions lie--over _there_(extending his arm and pointing), and of course if you know that thecold regions lie _there_, you know that the hot regions must lie at yourback--there, and it follows that the Pillars of Hercules lie _there_(pointing west), and home lies somewhere about _there_ (pointingeastward)."
"Stop!" cried Maikar in great perplexity--for although a seaman he wasdensely ignorant. "Hot regions, _there_, cold, _there_, home and thePillars, _there_, and _there_, and _there_ (thrusting his arms out inall directions). I've no more idea of where you've got me to now than--than--"
"Oh, never mind," interrupted the captain, "it doesn't matter, as youare not our guide. But, ho! look! look! down in the hollow there--amongthe rushes. What's that?"
"A boar!" said Bladud, in a low whisper, as he unslung his bow. "Come,now, it will take all our united force to slay that brute, for, if Ihave not lost my power of judging such game, I'm pretty sure that he's avery big old boar with formidable tusks."
While the prince was speaking, his comrades had also prepared theirweapons, and looked to their guide for directions.
These were hastily but clearly given. As the boar was evidently asleepin his lair, it was arranged that the three friends should stalk him, asthe broken ground was specially favourable for such a mode of attack.
"We will advance together," said Bladud, "with our bows ready. I willlead; you follow close. When we get within range you will do as you seeme do, and be sure that you aim at the brute's side--not at his head.Send your arrows with all the force you can. Then drop the bows and getyour javelins ready."
With eager looks the captain and little sailor nodded assent. They weremuch excited, having often heard tales of boar-hunting, though neitherof them had ever taken part in that work.
A few minutes' walk brought them to the edge of the rushes, where theyhad a fair view of the monstrous animal as it lay fully extended on itsside, and not more than thirty yards distant.
"Take him just behind the fore-leg," whispered Bladud, as he drew hisbow. His companions followed his example. Two of the bows twangedsimultaneously, but the third--that of Maikar--was pulled with suchvigour that it broke with a crash that would have awakened the sleepiestof wild boars, had there been nothing else to arouse him. As it was,other things helped to quicken his sensibilities. Bladud's unfailingarrow went indeed straight for the heart, but a strong rib caught andchecked its progress. The captain's shaft, probably by good luck,entered deep into the creature's flank not far from the tail.
To say that the forest was instantly filled with ear-splitting shrieksis to express the result but feebly. We might put it as a sort ofindefinite question in the rule of three, thus--if an ordinary civilisedpig with injured feelings can yell as we all know how, what must havebeen the explosion of a wild-boar of the eighth century BuCu, incircumstances such as we have described? Railway whistles of thenineteenth century, intermittently explosive, is the only possibleanswer to the question, and that is but an approximation to the truth.
For one instant the infuriated creature paused to look for itsassailants. Catching sight of them as they were fitting arrows to theirbows, it gave vent to a prolonged locomotive-express yell, and charged.Bladud's arrow hit it fair between the eyes, but stuck in theimpenetrable skull. The shaft of the captain missed, and the javelin ofMaikar went wildly wide of the mark.
By order of Bladud the three had separated a few yards from each other.Even in its rage the monster was perplexed by this, for it evidentlyperceived the impossibility of attacking three foes at the same moment.Which to go for was the question. Like an experienced warrior it wentfor the "little one."
Maikar had drawn his last weapon--the short sword of bronze--and, like abrave man as he was, "prepared to receive boarelry." Another instantand the enemy was upon him. More than that, it was over him,
for,trusting to his agility--for which he was famed--he tried to leap to oneside, intending to make a vigorous thrust at the same moment. In doingso his foot slipped; he fell flat on his side, and the boar, trippingover him, just missed ripping him with its fearful tusks. It fell, witha bursting squeak, beyond.
To leap up and turn was the work of an instant for the boar, and wouldhave been the same for the man if he had not been partially stunned bythe fall. As it was, the captain, who was nearest, proved equal to theemergency, for, using his javelin as a spear, he plunged it into theboar's side. But that side was tougher than he had expected. The spearwas broken by a sharp twist as the animal turned on its new foe, who nowstood disarmed