She asked Dzikohses a question. He came over and pointed at the second square in a row of seven figures. So, Two Hawks thought, they had a seven-day week. Ilmika smiled at this and said something to Dzikohses. He handed her the same piece he had offered before, and this time she ate.
Two Hawks could only deduce from this that pork was tabu for her except on certain days of the week.
“Curioser and curioser,” he muttered.
O’Brien said, “What?” but Two Hawks did not answer. To try to explain the whole business would only confuse and perhaps frighten O’Brien. The sergeant looked too happy at the moment for Two Hawks to upset him further. Poor O’Brien, unused to such long hard hikes and so little food, had been ready to keel over. Now he was even humming.
O’Brien patted his stomach, belched, and said, “Man, I feel great! If only I could get a week’s sleep now, I’d be a new man; I could lick my weight in Kilkenny cats.”
Several days later, they were still climbing along the lower parts of the mountains. Occasionally, they went higher to traverse a pass which would lead them down again. And then they were suddenly faced with a situation in which they had to use their firearms, noise or no noise. They had come down a mountain into a valley about six miles wide and twelve long. Part of the valley was wooded; the rest was a grassy plain and a marsh. Duck honks came from the marsh; a fox chased a hare not twenty feet in front of them. A big brown bear stood at the top of a small hill and watched them for a while before it turned and went back down the other side of the hill. The party crossed a band of trees splitting the valley in half and began to go across the wide plain. At that moment, they heard a loud bellow to their right. They whirled, their guns ready, and saw the great bull trotting towards them.
O’Brien, standing by Two Hawks, said, “Jesus, what a monster!”
The bull stood at least seven feet high at the shoulder; it was a glossy dark brown and had horns with a spread of at least ten feet.
“An aurochs!” Two Hawks said. He gripped his gun with the eery feeling that it was the only solid thing in the universe. He was not so frightened by the enormousness of the beast itself, since there was enough firepower in the group to knock down even this huge creature. What frightened him was that he felt as if he had been thrust back into the dawn of mankind. This was the kind of creature that early man had faced. Then he reassured himself that this was also a creature that man had wiped off the earth. Moreover, it, or something like it, was not so ancient after all. It had survived, though not in so great a form, up to and during World War I in the forests of Germany and Poland.
The aurochs bellowed and trotted towards them. Several times, it halted, threw up its head, and sniffed the air. Its black eyes gleamed in the sunlight, but whether it was premeditated murder or curiosity that shone there was not yet apparent. Fifty yards behind him, several cows thrust their lesser horned heads from behind bushes. Each of these looked large enough to take care of herself quite well, but they may have been hanging back to guard their calves. Two Hawks did not see any young and doubted that this was calving season. It did not matter whether or not the bull was protecting calves. His territory was being challenged, and he was intent on making sure that they intruded no longer.
Dzikohses said something to the men, then stepped out from them and shouted. The bull slowed down, stopped, and glared about him. Dzikohses shouted again. The aurochs wheeled and raced away and Two Hawks breathed easier. Then, as if driven by whim or as if he had caught a new scent which steered him around to face them again, he stopped and wheeled. The great head lowered; a huge hoof pawed the ground. Another vast bellow, and the bull was charging toward them. The ground trembled under the impact of hooves bearing a thousand pounds or more.
Dzikohses shouted more orders. His men spread out so that they could shoot at an angle at the aurochs and hit him in the body. The aurochs was not confused by this maneuver; he had evidently chosen the two Americans and Ilmika as his target. They had been standing in the center of the group and when the others went to left and right, they had stayed in the same spot as when they first saw the bull.
Two Hawks glanced at O’Brien and Ilmika and saw that they were not about to break and run. Ilmika was holding her revolver, its barrel resting on her left arm for steadiness. O’Brien did not have a weapon, but he had taken position just to the right of Two Hawks. He was poised to run.
“I’ll go one way; you go the other,” he said. “Maybe it won’t know which one to take after.”
By then the two muzzle-loaders and the rifles were firing. Ka’hnya loosed an arrow; it plunged into the right side of the beast just behind its shoulder. This did not stop it or even make it stagger. Though it shook at the impact of bullets and arrow, it kept on with unchecked speed. Ilmika began firing with no apparent effect. If her .40 caliber bullets struck the bull, they were hitting the thick bar of bone between the horns or glancing off the massive and tough neck muscles. Two Hawks told her to quit wasting her ammunition, but she did not even glance at him. Coolly, she kept on firing.
Then another arrow plunged into the bull, this time, whether by accident or design, into his right leg. He fell to one side and skidded on the grass, his inertia making him slide right up to Two Hawks’ feet. Two Hawks looked down at the great head and the enormous black eye glaring at him. The long eyelashes reminded him of a girl he had known in Syracuse—later he wondered why that irrelevant thought occurred to him in such a dangerous situation. Then he stepped up to put a bullet from the .32 through the eye. The other men closed in and shot into the body. It shuddered under the impact; by now blood was spurting from at least a dozen wounds. Nevertheless, so driving was its vitality, it started to rise again. Despite the crippling arrow in its leg, it managed to get on to all four legs.
Two Hawks placed the muzzle of his automatic only an inch from the eye—he had to raise the barrel upwards—and fired. The eye exploded and left an empty socket. In the midst of a roar, the auroch collapsed. He tried again to get up, then fell back on his side, gave a feeble bellow, and died.
Only then did Two Hawks start shaking. He thought he was going to get sick but the urge to upchuck died away and he was not forced to disgrace himself.
Dzikohses made sure that the bull was dead by cutting its throat. He arose with bloody knife and forgot about the bull for the time being. He looked all around the valley, worried that the sounds of the guns might bring unwelcome company. Two Hawks wanted to ask him whom he might expect to find in this remote place but decided against it. He not only was not sure that he would be understood; he thought it might be to his advantage if their captors thought they could speak freely in his presence. Actually, they were not too self-deluded. He comprehended only about one- sixteenth of what they said. But he was learning.
The men cut out pieces of meat from the flanks and rump. Ka’hnya started to slice away with the intention of getting to the heart. Dzikohses stopped him. The two argued for a moment, then Ka’hnya sullenly obeyed. From what he understood of the rapid conversation, Two Hawks deduced that Ka’hnya wanted the heart for more than its meat. Although he did not say so, he implied that they would all eat of the heart and so ingest the valor of the bull. Dzikohses would have none of this. He wanted to get across the plain and into the woods as swiftly as possible.
They traveled by wolf-trot: a hundred paces of fast trotting, a hundred of walking. They ate the miles up but at a price. By the time they reached the other end of the valley, where the woods and the mountain began, they were breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. Dzikohses was unmerciful. He began to climb at once. The rest of the party looked at each other and wondered if pleading for a rest would do any good or if it would be better to save their breath. Two Hawks grinned. He had his second wind by now and was determined to prove that he was as good a man as Dzikohses.
They had scrambled up the steep slope not more than fifty yards, going part of the way by pulling themselves up on the bushes, when a gun exploded nearby. Ka�
�hnya screamed and lost his hold and plunged backwards down the mountain. His head rammed into the base of a bush and stopped his descent. The rest of the party threw themselves down on the earth and looked around, but they saw nothing.
Then a gun barked again, and a bullet whistled through the leaves just over Two Hawks’ head. He happened to be looking in the direction from which the fire came and saw the man lean halfway out from behind an oak. He did not try to answer the fire, since the shooter had popped back behind the tree. Moreover, at fifty yards, the automatic was too inaccurate. He might as well save his bullets.
Dzikohses called to them and began to worm towards the oaks just above him and to his left. The others followed him. Several times, guns exploded and bullets screamed above them or dug into the earth near them. By the sound, Two Hawks judged that their enemies were using muzzle- loaders. If so, they could not be too accurate at this range; Ka’hnya had been hit only because he was considerably exposed and motionless at the moment. Two Hawks decided to take a chance before the enemy could move in closer for a better shot. He jumped up and ran zigzag towards the oaks. No shots had come from that quarter. Either there were no hostiles there or else they were holding their fire. If the latter were true, then he was committing suicide, but there was only one way to find out.
Behind him and on both sides, shouts arose and guns boomed again. Bullets—or balls—ripped the air around him. He reached the oak with no near misses, although the missiles had come close enough to satisfy him. He waited, scanning the woods around him for a sight of anyone creeping close. He heard the thud of feet on the earth, and then Dzikohses was flying through the air and was down beside him. Two Hawks gestured at the two big limbs above them. Dzikohses smiled, handed the rifle to Two Hawks and began climbing. On the lowest braneh, he reached down and took the weapon back. He resumed climbing. Two Hawks followed him and stopped just below Dzikohses. Dzikohses was silent for a minute, then exclaimed with satisfaction. He aimed carefully, fired, and a man fell down from behind a tree. A moment later, he shot again. This time, a man began screaming. A third left the shelter of a bush to run crouching to the aid of the wounded man. Skehnaske’, who probably was called The Fox because of his bushy reddish hair, fired, and the running man spun around and then fell to the ground. He made the mistake of trying to get up; this time the entire party fired, and he was hurled backward by the force of several bullets.
There was silence for a while. Two Hawks saw some men dodge from one tree to another, apparently to meet behind a particularly large oak. Probably for a conference, he thought. Dzikohses did not try to shoot at them. He was waiting until he spotted somebody motionless and exposed.
He called to the others, and one by one they rose up and ran in a jagged path towards the oak. No shots were evoked by their flight. From his branch, Dzikohses gave directions to his men and also to the Huskarle Ilmika. They spread out on both sides of the oak and began working their way back down towards the mountain. Dzikohses stayed in the oak to send an occasional shot towards the tree that sheltered the enemy. Two Hawks followed Skehnaske’. O’Brien went with the men on the left. For a while, Ilmika was with Skehnaske’ and Two Hawks, then she crawled off by herself.
Suddenly, a flurry of shots broke loose from the direction of the tree which sheltered the enemy. Dzikohses answered, firing as rapidly as possible. Two Hawks guessed that the hostiles had abandoned the oak and were spreading out through the woods for an ambush. He thought of how ironic it would be if he were killed in this little skirmish in an isolated valley, not knowing for whom he was fighting. For that matter, he was not sure whom he was fighting with. Or why.
Ilmika’s voice cried out to their right, succeeded by three shots. Two came from muzzle-loaders; one, from a revolver. Skehnaske’ and Two Hawks went towards the place from which the shots had come, but they proceeded cautiously, taking advantage of every cover and pausing to reconnoiter. Presently, they came upon a dead man, on his back, staring upward, a hole torn out of his throat and blood over his throat and chest. He wore a red handkerchief around his head, his ears held large round silver rings, his long-sleeved shirt had once been white. A purple cummerbund was around his waist and in it was stuck a single-shot breech-loading pistol and a long slim dagger. His trousers were baggy and knee-length, and his coarse woolen stockings were black with scarlet clockwork. His shoes were of a shiny black leather with huge silver buckles.
The dead man’s skin was as dark as that of a Hindu’s. He looked more like a gypsy than anything else.
The two separated and resumed their careful search. Although there were no signs of struggle, Two Hawks deduced that the dead man’s comrades had taken Ilmika prisoner. A moment later, he saw the flash of a white shirt and then Ilmika, her hands tied behind her, being shoved ahead by one of her captors. The other, holding a six-shooter rifle, was a few paces behind, alert for pursuers.
Two Hawks waited until they disappeared behind a rise and then he circled to make sure he did not crawl into an ambush. He heard faint cries, a slap, and the deep mutter of men.
Something flashed to his left. He hugged the ground, waited, and lifted his head cautiously. He saw Skehnaske’ signalling to him and signalled back. Then the red-haired man crawled out of sight. Two Hawks wriggled like a snake towards his targets, losing sight of them for a minute when he went along a narrow trough formed by rainwater in the dirt. The rifle of Skehnaske’ cracked; Two Hawks lifted his head to see the guard staggering backward but still holding on to his rifle. Two Hawks jumped up and shot at him within a range of twenty yards. Then he was running forward, only to hurl himself down behind a bush as the second man stood up briefly. The enemy fired at Two Hawks with a rifle, and his bullet thudded into the dirt only an inch from his face. Two Hawks rolled away towards a larger bush.
Skehnaske’ kept on firing, and the enemy did not stick his head out again. Skehnaske’ was shouting something at Two Hawks, who did not understand his words. Nevertheless, he got their meaning. He was up on his feet and rushed at the hillock while Skehnaske’ resumed his covering fire. He tried to make as little sound as possible, but the man must have heard the slap of his shoes against the dirt. His black-handkerchiefed head appeared and then the barrel of his rifle. He was visible to Two Hawks but not to Skehnaske’. However, he was afraid to raise his head too high, and it was this that made his shooting awkward. He missed with the first bullet, swung the barrel around to correct, and fired again.
Two Hawks heard the bullet scream by. He was not surprised that he had not been hit, since he had seen Ilmika’s feet kick out and slam into the man’s ribs. The man froze for a second, unable to make up his mind to shoot at Two Hawks again or kill Ilmika. Two Hawks stopped and shot twice, both bullets hitting the man. One entered his right temple; the other struck him somewhere in the body. He collapsed, seeming to shrink like a balloon with a pinprick in it.
Ilmika wept and talked hysterically while Two Hawks untied her hands. They returned to the group, which had disposed of the others. Some of the enemy had gotten away; two were dead; one was taken alive with a bullet in his left thigh and another in his right shoulder. He squatted on the ground, his eyes dull with pain.
Dzikohses asked him some questions; the man spat at him. Dzikohses put the muzzle of his rifle against the man’s temple and repeated the question. Again, the man spat. The rifle cracked. His head half-blown off, the man crashed into the ground.
Another wounded prisoner was brought in by Skehnaske’. Dzikohses was about to shoot him, too, then changed his mind. The prisoner was stripped of his clothes, his hands tied behind him, and his ankles bound together. He was hoisted upside down by a rope over a branch until his head was several feet off the ground. Dzikohses took the prisoner’s own long thin dagger and cut off both ears. The man fainted. The party left him hanging there. Some time later, they heard him screaming, then silence came again. He must have passed out once more. A second time, they heard him screaming just as they passed over a shoulder
of the mountain. After that, they heard him no more.
O’Brien and Two Hawks were both pale, but not from exertion. O’Brien said. “Mary preserve us! These gooks play rough!”
Two Hawks was watching the Lady Ilmika Thorrsstein. She seemed to have fully recovered. In fact, the incident of the tortured man had restored her color, and she seemed to have derived enjoyment from his punishment. He shuddered. Certainly, the gypsies, or whatever they were, would have done the same or worse to them if they had won. Yet he could never take vengeance in such a fashion. He would have had no compunction about shooting one in cold blood. But this! No, he might be an Iroquois Indian, but he was too civilized.
After that, he found that the blonde was not as aloof as she had been. She was grateful for his having rescued her, although the credit was only partly his. She talked with him whenever they had a chance and began to teach him her language. Now, though he wanted to learn her speech, he was the one who was constrained. It was a long time before he could forget the look on her face as she saw Dzikohses skewer the captive’s ears.
5
Two weeks later, they came down out of the mountains. They were in very flat country and among farms. They were also near the enemy, the Perkunishans, as Ilmika called them. They resumed travel by night. Forty-eight hours later, they took refuge for the day in a huge house which had been the scene of a skirmish. Six bodies lay at various positions and distances from the house, and there were even more inside. The guerrillas had taken the house, but all had died in hand-to- hand fighting along with the Perkunishan soldiers holding it. No one was left to bury the dead, now overdue to be put into the earth. The party dragged the corpses out into a nearby copse of elms and laid them in two shallow graves. The muzzle-loaders were abandoned for the more modern six- shooters.
The Gate of Time Page 4
