CHAPTER XII
"What's these, what's these?" he muttered, for there, on the fartherbank of the stream, stood in the twilight of the sinking moon twostrange, solitary figures, motionless, staring. Nod ran to Battle, andlaid his long narrow hand on the glimmering gun-barrel. "Oh, not shoot,not shoot!" he said, "black Oomgars--no; Mulla-mulgars, too, Nod'sfriends, Nod's brothers!"
"What's he jabbering about?" said Battle, with eyes fixed brightly onthe two gaunt shapes.
"Nod's brothers, there," said Nod--"Thumb, Thimble, Thimble, Thumb. Nodshow Oomgar. Oh, wait softly!" He ran swiftly over the snow till he cameto the frozen bank of the stream. But still his brothers never stirred,ragged and hollow-eyed with hunger and cold.
"Come," said Nod, lifting up his hands in salutation; "there is no fear,no danger! Here is Nod, my brothers."
"What voice was that we heard?" said Thumb, trembling. "Can the mouth ofthe Oomgar speak after it is shut in death?"
"The Oomgar is not dead, Thumb, my brother; the hunting-packs killedonly that Beast of Shadows, Immanala, who hoped to kill us all, and theOomgar, too. Come over, my brothers! Every day, every night, Nod hastalked in his quiet with you."
"We do not understand the little Oomgar," said Thimble angrily. "Who areyou, the youngest of us all, to lie and make cunning against the peopleof the forest? Let your master, the blood-spilling Oomgar, shoot us,too. What are we in such a heap of bones? We have no fear of him. On allfours, back, parakeet; tell him where the Mulgars' hearts lie hid. Maybehe'll fling his Nizza-neela a bone."
"O Thimble, Mulla-mulgar, why do you seek out all the black words forme? Haven't I done all for the best? Did I play false with you when Isaved you from the spits of the Minimuls? The little Horse of Tishnarsmelt out my wounded shoulder. And the Oomgar's strangling trap caughtme. But he did not kill me. He took me, and was kind to me, fed me andshared his fire with me, and we were 'messimuts.' Yet all day, allnight, moon and no-moon, I have talked in myself with you, and runlooking for you in my dreams, while I slept in the hairless Oomgar'shut. The Nameless is gone for a little while. The Oomgar is wise withhis hands and in little things. Now I may go. He kills only for meat,Mulla-mulgars. He will do no harm to Ummanodda's brothers. Come overwith me!"
Thumb and Thimble, with toes a little turned in, and heads bent forward,stood listening in the snow.
"Why, then," said Thumb, muttering, "if he kills only for food, andrelishes not his own flavour in the pot, let him hobble out here to usnow and greet us, like with like--Oomgar-mulgar with Mulla-mulgar--andleave his spit-fire and his magic behind him. But into his hut, norstumbling among his Munza bones, we will _not_ go. And if he will notcome, brother to brother, then it is 'Gar Mulgar dusangee' between usthree, O youngest son of Seelem. Go back to your cooking-pots. I andThimble will journey on alone. All day would the Harp-strings betwangling over Mulgars smelling of blood."
So Nod, cold with misery, went back to Battle, who sat yawning, gun onknee, beside his fire.
"Oomgar!" he said, leaning a little on one small hand, and standing afew paces distant from the sailor, "my brothers, the Mulla-mulgars, sonsof Seelem, brother of Assasimmon, Prince of the Valleys of Tishnar, arehere. They say Nod is not true, speaks lies, eater-of-flesh, no child ofTishnar." He stared forlornly into Battle's face. "Tired of his livingis Nod now. Shoot straight with Oomgar Zbaffle's gun. Nod will bestill."
The Englishman crinkled up his eyelids, opened his mouth, and burst outlaughing.
"To tell ye sober truth, my son," he said, "bullets and powder Battlehaven't much left to waste. And what's lark-pie to a hungry sailor! Asfor them hunched-up hobbagoblins over yonder, don't 'ee heed what envyhas to say. Battle is hands down on your side, my son, and let 'emmeddle if they dare! But mercy on us," he added under his breath, "whatwouldn't my old mother have said to hear these Pongoes chatter? 'Shootstraight!' says he. 'Tired of his living!' says he. Button up yoursheep's-jacket, my son. We'll home to England yet. And, what's more"--hewaved his hand towards the lonely figures still standing motionless inthe silvery dusk--"Andy Battle's best respects to the hairy gentlemen,and there's a warm welcome and fresh-picked bones for breakfast. But thenight's creeping cold, and bed's bed, old friend, and Andy's eyes wasnever made for moth-hunting. So here goes." He went in with his gun, andNod heard him shut and bar the door.
Nod listened awhile, with eyes fixed sorrowfully on the fast-shut door;then, having heaped more logs on to the fire, he went slowly back to hisbrothers.
Now that the moon was down, and night at its darkest, the frosthardened. And Thumb and Thimble, when they were sure the Oomgar wasasleep in his hut, were glad enough to hobble across the ice and to sitand warm themselves before the fire. Their jackets hung in tatters.Thumb's left second toe was frost-bitten, and Thimble's eyes were sosore from the glaring whiteness of the snow he could only dimly see.Moreover, they were weary of living and sleeping in their tree-housesamong the scatter-brained Forest-mulgars, and though at first they satshaky and sniffing, and started if but a dry leaf snapped in the fire,they listened in silence to Nod's long story of his doings, and began tosee at last that what he had done by Mishcha's counsel had been for thebest, and not for his own sake only.
"But we cannot stay here, Ummanodda," said Thumb. "We could not rubnoses with the Oomgar. His voice, his smell! He is not of our kind,little brother. And now that all the peoples of Munza-mulgar are ourenemies, we must press on, with no more idling and fine eating andsitting shanks to fire, or we shall never reach the Valleys alive."
"I am ready, Thumb, my brother," Nod answered. "The Oomgar has been kindto me, his own kind's kind. It was my Tishnar's Wonderstone that savedhim from the teeth of the Nine-and-ninety, and from Immanala's magic,though why should I tell it is so? Now they will think it is hisskin-bonneted Meermut that stalks to and fro with the ghost-gun of aghost. They will forsake this place, every one--claw and talon, uprightand fours, every one. How long shall a flesh-eater, hungry andgluttonous, live on dried berries and nuts? Me gone; unless the frostflies soon, or a great Bobberie, as he does say, comes up from thatstrange water, the Sea, over yonder, the Oomgar will die. O brothers,just as that Oomgar, the Portingal, died whose bones dangled over uswhen we stood by Mutta's knee and listened to them clicking. Do but letme stay to say good-bye, and we will go together at morning!"
So, when day began to break, Thumb and Thimble hastened away and hidthemselves in the Ukka-trees till Nod should come out to them. Nodbusied himself, and baked his last feast with his master. He broiled himsome bones--they were little else--of the Jack-All the sailor had shotin the moonlight. And when Battle--strange and solitary as he seemed toNod now, after talking with and looking on his brothers--when Battleopened the door and came out, Nod told him as best he could, in the fewwords of his English, of Immanala and her hunting-dogs, and of hisbrothers. And he told him that he must leave him now, and go on histravels again. Battle listened, scratching his head, and with a patient,perplexed grin on his face, but he could understand only very little ofwhat Nod meant. For even a Mulla-mulgar, though he can repeat like achild, or like a parrot, by rote, has small brains for really learninganother language, so that it may be a telling picture of his thoughts.Indeed, Battle thought that poor Nod had fallen a little crazy with thecold. He fondled him and scratched his head--this Prince of Tishnar--asif he were at his hearth at home, and Nod his country cat. But at leasthe knew that the little Mulgar wished to leave him, and he made nohindrance except his own sadness to his going. He gave him out of hisown pocket a silver groat with a hole in it, and a large piece of finelooking-glass, besides the necklet of clear blue Bamba-beads, and threerings of copper. He gave him, too, one leaf of his little fat book, andin this Nod wrapped his Wonderstone. Nor even in his kindness did Battlesay the least word about his big coat and Ephelanto-belt and his Fulby'shairy hat--all which things he supposed (Mulgars being by nature thievesand robbers in his mind) Nod's brothers had stolen.
"Good-bye, my son," he said. "'Bravely, ole sailor, take
your lot!'There, there; I make no dwelling on fine words. Good-bye, and don'tforget your larnin'. There's many a full-growed Christian Battle's comeacrost in his seafarin'--but there, flattery butters no parsnips.Good-bye, once more, Mulgar _mio_, and thankee kindly."
Nod raised his hands above his head. "Oomgar, Oomgar," he said, witheyes shut and trembling lips, "ah-mi, ah-mi; sulani, ghar magleer."Then, with a heavy heart, he turned away, and without looking back ranscampering as fast as he could to the five Ukka-trees. His brothers hadlong been awaiting him, and swang down gladly from their sleeping-bowersin the trees. Then, with the hut and the Oomgar's pillar of smoke upontheir cudgel-hand, they set out once more, all but due North, towardsthe Valleys of Assasimmon.
The Three Mulla-mulgars Page 12
