So engrossed were we in our admiration and study of these marvellous flowers, that an hour or two passed before we could think of anything else. But when our narrow path turned into a great game trail, beaten like a roadway beneath the overarching jungle, we bethought ourselves once more of the pit beasts. It was high time to finger our rifles and keep a wary eye on the pallid thickets; for Smider observed that we should now be certain to meet with formidable animals. The great trail, though maintained and dominated by the mammoths, was used by many others of the pit beasts.
Fortunately, the luminous plants continued in the same abundance as at first; so that we were not placed at the disadvantage which we should have suffered from the darkness. Indeed, we could see with remarkable clearness the small birds and lemuroid animals which pursued the insects among the fire-flowers. Only now and then did we pass an unlighted patch of thicket. At such places our escort kept close to the opposite side of the trail, and carried their weapons brandished as though in expectation of attack.
"Swartbani," muttered Smider significantly, as we passed one of the dark spots. Thord uttered a contemptuous grunt at the extreme wariness of the Thorlings. But I had hunted tigers, and could better appreciate the reason for such caution. The dark bits of jungle were ideal lairs for the gigantic cat, which could lie in wait among the shadows, black as itself, and at a single bound strike down its prey anywhere within the breadth of the trail. I was giving the others pointers on tiger-shooting, when Hervard and Varin halted abruptly and made a sign. Instantly the men wheeled about and ran with the Vala to the last dark thicket. After them!" exclaimed Rolf.
Thord stared scowling down the trail.
"Why run?" he demanded -'red beasts again?"
"No, - jotunkaki? Follow the Thorlings," shouted Smider.
I looked for a stout tree in the tangle of whitish jungle; but the others were running straight for the black thicket. Thyra was already once more at Jofrid's side. Then the heralds urged us to follow, and even Thord thought it as well to join the rout. Heedless of tigers or other lurking beasts, our whole party plunged headlong into the blank darkness of the thicket. Varin, who brought up the rear, paused on the edge of the trail to snatch from his pouch a handful of withered berries, which he crushed in his fingers and flung about him. Then he, too, pushed through the bush to where we crouched in the shadows, four or five yards from the trail. As he slipped in beside me, I noticed that his hands gave out a powerful musky odour.
Scarcely had we settled into quiet, when a dull heavy sound broke the silence. Quickly the sound gained volume; the ground began to jar, and we heard shrill outcries, something like the trumpeting of elephants. We drew back a little farther and stared out into the open trail, where every object was plainly visible to us, though we ourselves were hidden.
We had not long to wait. Louder grew the trumpeting, heavier the tread of ponderous feet. Suddenly across our range of vision rushed a gigantic shaggy figure, with snake trunk and enormous upcurving tusks. Beside that creature, Jumbo would have seemed a dwarf.
When almost opposite us, the mammoth swung out his trunk towards the spot where Varin had thrown the crushed berries, and swerved aside from it, with a shriller note in his trumpeting. The cry was taken up by every other mammoth in the herd, and as the huge creatures thundered past, each sniffed the musky odour from the berries and bolted on with increased swiftness.
As the last of the herd, a magnificent young bull, lumbered by, Thord sprang forward with upraised rifle. But Hervard leaped before him and, grasping the muzzle of the weapon, held it to his own breast.
"Stay!" he cried. "Would you draw upon us the fury of jotunkaki, with two helpless women our company?"
The blood rushed to Thord's face, and as he wrenched his rifle free, he shouted in disappointment: "Coward! - you have marred my sport!"
The Thorling started as though shot, and his hand flew to his sword hilt. But at Jofrid's warning cry, he restrained himself, and answered Thord with calm dignity: "You are a guest and peace-holy, else blood should flow for that word. Know that the great beasts can only be hunted singly. Should one in a herd be slain, the others would trample thickets and uproot trees in their thirst for vengeance. Even so, no Thorling would have stayed your deed, but for the maidens!"
Thord stepped forward with outstretched hand, and exclaimed in his frank manner: "I eat my words, Hervard. Will you grip hands?"
"Gladly," answered the herald, with equal frankness. As the two parted, Varin stepped out into the trail and gave the signal to resume our journey. We had not yet fallen into line, however, when a strange beast, something between a tapir and a pig in size and appearance, trotted out of the jungle a few yards away. At sight of us, the creature wheeled and fled down the trail. A brace of Thorling arrows only caused the beast to run the faster, and it would have escaped had not Thord and Balderston fired. Their bullets brought it to the ground, when it was soon despatched by a Thorling lance.
"Here is the roast. We will rest and eat," remarked Varin, and the Thorling bearer: promptly set about dressing the game. Black joined them, but the rest of us, after examining the curious pachyderm, moved on a little farther and sat down to await the cooking. Thord fell to discussing the habits of the pit beasts with Rolf and Smider and the heralds, but Balderston and I were content to sit quietly by the maidens.
I cannot say just how the two others spent their time. Thyra and I, though, certainly enjoyed ourselves. Side by side, we leaned against the bole of a giant tree, and gazed up at the gorgeous fire-flowers shining in the foliage of the palms and magnolias, the eucalypti and tree ferns that overarched the great trail.
"How beautiful, Jan," she whispered at last.
"I see a sight yet more lovely," I answered.
Thyra lowered her gaze to mine - blushed and looked down shyly; but she did not withdraw her hand from my clasp. We were very happy, and we did not look any more at the fire-flowers.
Chapter XIII. The Black Death.
Our quiet happiness was interrupted, not by the dinner-call, but by a word from Jofrid. She replaced the hated Orm-crown, which for a little Balderston had persuaded her to lay aside, and gazing sombre-eyed down the trail, she said gravely: "Guests come. Let all be ready."
"Where? Who are they?" asked Thord, starting to his feet.
"Those to whom you journey. They come beyond the bend in the trail."
Balderston and the heralds sprang up, but they stood staring for several minutes without seeing anything. Then suddenly Varin exclaimed "The king! - it is the king himself!"
"And Bera with him," added Hervard, as two giant figures came into view down the trail.
Close after the royal couple followed half a dozen attendants, - all picked men, like Hervard and Varin, though beside the king and his sister they seemed of small size. We gave little heed to the retainers, however, as the party approached. All our interest was centred on the leaders, as, in turn, Thord and Black eclipsed the rest of us in the eyes of the newcomers.
Near at hand King Hoding appeared even more brutal and ferocious than when I saw him through the glasses, on the fells. Yet, notwithstanding his bulldog jaw and terrible leering eyes, the man's great bulk, set off as it was by a cloak of black tiger skin and the rude crown which bound his shaggy red mane, gave to him a certain air of wild grandeur, - the majesty of a king of beasts.
The giantess Bera was no less imposing than her royal half-brother, and far more attractive. Though not so broad as Hoding, she was half a span taller, while whatever might be said of the king's mixed blood, the woman's was purely Norse. Her bearing was truly grand and noble, and her face, though stern, did not lack in beauty of a severe type. She wore a huntress dress of the fiery leopard skin, and her flaxen hair was bound by a gold circlet, set with rubies.
As the royal party drew near where we stood grouped to receive them, Rolf and Smider and the Thorlings lifted their weapons in salute. Jofrid, however, did not so much as rise to meet the king. When he, instead, scarc
ely acknowledging the salute of the others, turned to bow before the frail young maiden, we began to comprehend the power of the dreaded Orm. The Thorling suite bowed to the Vala even lower than their king; but Bera, I observed, while deferential in her salute, was in nowise servile or undignified. While the others yet cringed before the Orm-crown, she turned, smiling and curious, to greet the outlanders.
Taking our cue from Balderston, we lifted our caps to the Thorling princess and bowed, as we should have saluted a lady in our own land. But when her brother stepped to her side and glowered upon us with his evil leer, we stiffened our necks and stared back at him with interest. For a moment he was so astonished by Black's colour and Thord's huge size, that he failed to notice our lack of deference. Then he scowled darkly, and spoke in a tone that well matched his face: "Ho, by Loki! These are the outlanders - the skyfarers - who slay men beyond bowshot. It seems to me they are mannerless wanderers, whether they be men or gods."
"They are guests, and peace-holy," rejoined Bera in a deep contralto.
Hoding's pop eye shifted its evil stare from us to Thyra and the two Runemen.
"We sent hearth-pledge for the skyfarers," he said; "not for a crew of skraeling Runefolk, nor for such a one as this black fiend.
I saw Smider redden with anger, but Rolf laughed scornfully, and answered the king with mock approval: "Well said, well said, Hoding Grimeye! The skraeling who felled you on the jotun-rim gives you praise for your hearth-warmth."
At the jeering words Hoding grew purple with rage, and he shook his clinched fists in Rolf's face.
"Ha! Nidhug tear you! It was you then who struck me down - not fairly, but by seid - by black magic. By Loki and the Fenris-wolf, I shall flay you alive for that!"
Rolf grasped his sword-hilt, furious at the threat and the false accusation. Thord, however, thrust himself in between the enraged men and said coolly: "Hearken! - King Hoding is dogwise. We and our friends come with his guest-pledge. He shall keep troth."
"And if not, outlander? - Beware for your own skin. I am king of the Mark and the Ormval."
"Bah! Does Hoding think we have sailed the sky of Jotunheim, to quail before man or beast? Even this swart one, though he be but a carl, could blast the stoutest Thorling in this realm, king or no.
"That is true, said Bera. "I saw how you slew my men on the fells. Hoding himself saw Eyvind struck down. There is witchcraft in those hollow clubs you bear."
"Ay," growled Hoding; "they are warlock wanderers. They dare not fight as men."
Thord laughed again.
"Ask Varin who it was nicked his sword on the red beasts, or ask Hervard the weight of my fair comrade's fist."
"Rather, remember what you saw of grey biorn on the fells," added Thyra quickly.
The impulsive words were no sooner uttered than the girl regretted them, for they drew upon her Hoding's special attention. Flushed and indignant, she shrank behind me to avoid the odious leer with which he surveyed her beautiful figure.
"The bear on the fells?" exclaimed Bera, and I was relieved to see her brother shift his evil gaze. "Ha! doubtless, then this big one was he who cast the stone?"
"True," assented Thord.
"That was a hero's deed," said Bera warmly, and she turned to her brother. "Now, Hoding, welcome the guests, or go. One and all, they come to Hela Gard with full guest honour, or Bera of the Orm shall know why else."
"There is one man among them," replied Hoding, as he again measured Thord's giant frame. "He is welcome, and the rest in his following."
Even Balderston flushed at this contemptuous greeting; but before any of us could retort, Jofrid rose and confronted the king with a look which all his brute ferocity was unable to withstand.
"Beware, King Hoding!" she said. "Nithing is he who breaks guest-troth - and the Orm ever hungers."
Even Bera shuddered at the warning. As to Hoding, he bowed low before the Vala, and replied hurriedly: "I give welcome to all the guests, Runefolk and skyfarers alike, let Var bear witness."
"It is well. Now be seated. The meat roasts, as you see."
All complied with the invitation, Thord sitting down with Bera and the king. Jofrid, however, drew a little apart, and I followed her with Thyra and Balderston.
We had not long to wait before Black brought us the choicest roast on the spits. This was flanked by food we had brought with us, while the king's attendants contributed a sort of palm wine. So, as the roast proved to be very similar to young pork, we pieced out quite a hearty and enjoyable meal. Even the Vala had for the moment thrown off the heaviness of her spirits, and our little party finished the meal in a very happy mood. In the midst of our gay chatter, however, we were interrupted by an unwelcome intruder. King Hoding stalked over from the fire, and, bowing sullenly to the Vala, sat down close to Thyra.
"Ho! stay quiet, maiden," he said, with an unpleasant laugh. "There is no need to shrink aside. Hoding Grimeye does not eat Rune maids - when they are fair as Freya."
The Thorling's tone was even more offensive than his words, and I turned upon him, half choked with indignation. But Thyra was quicker. She drew herself up proudly, though her pale cheeks and flashing eyes and the heaving of her bosom told how great was her emotion.
"King Hoding knows little of Rune maids," she exclaimed. "Seven times have I walked the Mark, and never yet quailed before beast or Thorling. If now I prefer the company of my betrothed to that of yourself, it is not because I fear you."
"So Ragnersdotter is betrothed," said Hoding, with an ugly sneer. "Yonder big man, then, is a liar."
I looked at Thyra, now crimson with shame, - almost on the verge of tears, - and my anger blazed to a white heat. But the girl's open confession of her love roused an emotion even more powerful than wrath.
"Let King Hoding be assured," I cried pleasantly. "There is no lie. Thord has yet to learn that I have plighted troth with the daughter of Ragner. True, we are not as yet formally betrothed after the manner of the maiden's people; but that is a matter easily remedied.
I paused to draw a ring from my finger and to raise Thyra's hand.
"Let all bear witness," I continued; "I, John Godfrey, plight my troth to Thyra, the daughter of Ragner and Astrid, and naught shall part us."
As I slipped my ring on Thyra's finger, the girl lifted her blushing face, radiant with trust and love.
"Let all bear witness," she responded, in a voice low but clear, "my troth do I plight to Jan Godfrey, of the Southland, with free and willing heart, and naught shall part us."
Trembling, but happy, the girl gave me her ring in turn, and then upraised her lovely face for the betrothal kiss. It was the happiest moment of my life. Oblivious of Hoding's savage scowl, I slipped my arm about Thyra's shoulders and bent over her. Our lips met-
The tiger's attack came like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. There was no warning. A terrific roar - a shriek - and the awful beast was in our midst, his sabre teeth buried the shoulder of a Thorling. The victim did not move; the brute's mighty paw had crushed his skull like an eggshell. The tiger growled horribly and lapped the dead man's blood.
But the truce lasted only a few seconds. With wild yells, Thorlings and Runemen snatched up their weapons. Hoding rushed forward with brandished axe, and Balderston grasped his rifle to follow. I dragged the girls behind a tree. I heard Thord's express, followed by the crack of Black's rifle; then all sounds were smothered in a thunderous roar. The hunters flew apart like wind-struck leaves, and from their midst the monster charged towards me with enormous bounds, the dead Thorling held his jaws as a cat holds a mouse. I saw Balderston fling himself aside and fire. Black's rifle echoed the shot, and flights of arrows came whirring after the terrible fugitive. But, like a sable incarnation of Death, the beast hurled past where I had crouched, and in two more bounds reached an unlighted patch of jungle.
As I rose, Thyra's arm slipped about my neck, and her voice murmured in my car: Ah, sweetheart, thanks be to the Father! - you have escaped - swartbani spared
you!"
I drew her to me until I could feel the quick throbbing of her heart.
"My darling!" I said; "you love me much, else you would not tremble so. But the game is not ended, dearest. The beast has slain a man, and we must take vengeance."
"Vengeance!" sneered Hoding's brutal voice. "What boaster talks of vengeance on the swart one in his lair?"
I turned to the angry, disappointed group behind the king. Thord stood in the midst, rubbing his arm ruefully, while Bera held up to view the shattered wreck of his express. When the tiger leaped past him, he had thrust out the rifle to ward himself, and it had been dashed in pieces from his grasp by an almost imperceptible stroke of the beast's paw. However, the sight did not daunt me. I had hunted Bengal tigers afoot, and this sable monster was only the same creature greatly enlarged. So, picking up my express, I addressed the party with unassumed coolness: Hearken, men I shall go alone into swartbani's lair. Be ready should he charge out upon you."
The Thorlings looked at me as though I had gone mad, and Thord half shouted "Ho, doctor, don't be a fool. You will go to certain death."
I shook my head, and turned reassuringly to Thyra, who was clinging on my shoulder.
"Fear nothing, sweetheart," I whispered. "Soon I shall return to you. I have spoken. To turn back now would bring shame upon me."
"Go then, Jan, - and Thor aid you!" cried the girl. Bravely smiling, she drew back beside Jofrid, while I faced about. Instantly Smider stepped to my side.
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