CHAPTER XXXIX

STEALING THE ENEMY’S FIRE

No sooner had the demonstration ceased than I hastened up the rock-heap to the cave. I found the mouth of the place somewhat choked and hard to enter, but I forced my way over massed-in boulders to a vestibule of the great treasure-house itself. Then suddenly my hopes were blighted and failure loomed before me. It was as dark as tar and I had clean forgotten to fetch a torch!

“But how could I have fetched a torch?” my brain demanded. I had no civilised matches; I could not have carried a brand all day, for the sake of having it now, and if I had, the smoke might have attracted the attention of the Blacks. Had they caught a bear with a torch in his hand they would unquestionably have desired an explanation. I thought of my knife, which was steel, and the flints on my arrows. Could I not produce a spark, ignite some tinder and then make some faggots take fire? Yes, I could, but the arrows were all in the boat and I had about as much tinder handy as a fellow could carry in his eye.

In desperation I groped ahead for a rod and nearly broke my neck, by jolting down an unseen step in the floor. It was useless to tackle the cavern in this inky blackness; I might easily get boiled to death by the fountain of scalding water. In bitter regret, I reproached myself for having come away from camp without consulting the goddess and without maturing my plans. But any ass should have known the place would be dark! I acknowledged that I was a fool, and that after all this bother I should have to give it up. Even if I did come again next day, it would be no easy matter to fetch a torch, and I might try a hundred times and not have the luck I had this evening in avoiding those villains, the Blacks.

More than ready to swear at my folly, mad as a hornet to think of abandoning all the gold, which was right there, almost within reach of my hands, I pinched myself viciously and groped my way out to the heap of rocks at the entrance.

Already a star was shining in the heavens. What good were stars, I would have liked to know. It was fire I wanted—fire at the end of a stick. A crazy idea of hunting for something highly inflammable, on which to try my flint and steel, tried to get started in my brain. I rejected the notion with scorn. I might as well begin a search for glow-worms or incandescent electric globes.

“Those fools of Links have got plenty of fire,” I grumbled, spitefully. “For about two cents I’d kick them all out of their camp and take all the torches I could carry.”

This bit of pleasantry somewhat restored my humour. I started up from where I was sitting on the rocks, abruptly, possessed of a great idea. Why not make the trick worth the winning; why not steal their fire to light myself in robbing their cave?

In my haste to clamber down from the pile, I fell forward and struck my hand smartly on something which felt like a collected lot of wood. I was ready to kick this thing, for bruising my fingers, when I comprehended that wood was exactly what I required. Grasping one of the branches I lifted a whole bundle of sticks, all dry, cut neatly of an equal length, and tied about with some sort of cord. Instantly I thought of the gilded skeleton—the man who had lived in this place. I believed he had come to the cavern often, and that doubtless these faggots had been gathered by himself for torches.

This discovery gave me new enthusiasm. I was calmer, also, and I therefore resolved to proceed carefully, do nothing rash, and to wait until the time was propitious before attempting to steal my fire. Nevertheless I was determined not to give up the game until flatly beaten. Much luck in the past had made me bolder than I was when I arrived in the country.

During the half hour following, I crept through the woods, toward the spot where I had waited for the goddess. I thought it would bring me bad luck to try any other location. My clubs and the sack, I had left at the cauldron, along with my bundle of wood. Thus I had nothing to impede my progress; but the skin in which I was clothed hampered every motion.

Throughout the jungle, various sounds had commenced, for the darkness was rapidly becoming that of full-fledged night. Through the trees, when I approached their clearing, I caught the gleam of the fires about which the Links were cooking their dinner.

Knife in hand, I edged and pushed through the creepers and vines until I dared go no further. From where I was, I could see very much the same sort of groups about the fires which had made the picture weird on the former occasion. But I was actually more excited and eager over the present enterprise than I had been before, when a fellow-being was in the game. Doubtless this arose from the greater risk I expected to take.

Impatient as I was, the Links seemed to require an interminable time to get ready for bed. I selected one and then another of the fires as the one from which I would filch a brand, but was finally obliged to wait and see which would be the most favourable to my task. I desired to select the one furthest from the sleeping places, and yet not too far from my cover. The one first abandoned by the Links would have answered well. I watched it narrowly and kept an eye on the Blacks, who were still lingering about. Long before the fellows had all retired, the fire became hopeless, so few were the embers left aglow. I was obliged to fix upon another.

I waited all of two hours, by the end of which time the Links were all safely asleep, save that watchful old fiend whose acquaintance I had made on my former visit. When at length he laid himself down for the night, his position was such that my intended deed had been rendered far more difficult than I had expected. It became necessary for me to make a long detour, for I deemed it wise that I should be able to make a bee-line for cover the second I procured my bit of fire.

In crawling and walking carefully about the tangle, I consumed a lot of time. My position then was such that by creeping bear-like from the vines and going straight for my original hiding place, I would pass the remains of a fire, in which only one or two blazing pieces of wood remained. Again I drew my knife. With a thumping heart, high up in my neck, I began this desperate experiment.

A night-bird hooted before I had gone three paces. That alert old wretch, the sentinel Black, stirred about and turned sleepily over. For several minutes I remained motionless; then again I moved cautiously forward. Although I expected the worst possible calamities to happen every moment, and thought my own breathing would betray my presence, I neared the fire without arousing the lightest sleeper. Approaching the burned-out heap, I selected the brand I would take, before I was there. In consequence of this, I lost no time, but passed silently on, when I had the precious ember in my possession. Transferring it quickly to my left hand, in order to conceal its glowing end from any eyes which might by chance be open, I dragged it on the ground beside me, and headed for the shelter, which to reach would mean success.

A half chuckle escaped me, at the thought of the Links’ stupidity and my own adroitness, for the vines were now but a dozen feet away. Yet I was horribly nervous, not daring to look behind me and fearing that anything might be happening, now that my back was turned upon the sleeping foe. I reached the cover in triumph, however, and even crawled to a small open spot, when suddenly something gave me a vigorous push with its foot.

Instantly then that monstrous old watch Link, recognised me, raised his club and poised to fetch it down with a blow that should scatter my brains. I saw him, knew he had caught me, realised that more silently than I he had followed the singular bear that would steal a brand of fire, and quick as a gun-spring I shot up against him, butted him hard in the ribs and we closed, in a duel to the death.

My only thought was—“Choke him off!” I knew that a single yell would bring an army of foes upon me; I knew he had made no sound before because of his commendable desire to determine my nature while I was still unaware of his presence. Now I swiftly determined that not a sound should he make, unless he did it over my dead body. I was thrice as vicious as he, I verily believe, as I threw myself in against his body and fastened my clutch on his throat. I was fierce as only a frightened and desperate man can be; I was strong as three of my kind, in that moment of terrible need.

His arms had been raised with the club; the weapon had even been descending as I thumped him violently backward. Down came the great rock, but the force of the blow was gone, and the aim was so ruined that he struck us both on the leg. He dropped the thing as useless, for he could not have raised it again had he tried. But with his long, iron-like arms he fought like a fiend, to shove me off, to gouge out my ribs and to grip my throat as I was gripping his, with all but two of my fingers. The two fingers gripped the handle of my knife.

The length of his arms was for once against him. I was as close up as flesh can freeze to flesh. His head was thrust far back; already his breathing muscles were swelling and labouring beneath my thumbs. We struggled about in the darkness hither and thither, wrestling, flinging, treading on roots and branches and exerting the utmost of our strength to win the battle.

The monster’s muscles were something prodigious; his activity was simply incredible. I have choked a man to submission in thirty seconds, but it seemed as if I could never weaken this brute nor reduce him to a state wherein I could use my knife. He fought me with his feet, scratched me and kicked my shins. He got his bone-and-wire arms against my stomach at last and clutched me and pushed me till I thought I should shriek with pain. Had I not been protected by the bear-skin, I think he would have killed me, in spite of the tremendous advantage I had gained at the outset. All this time the only sound was what I made in breathing and what we made with our scuffling about. It was an ominously silent duel.

Over we toppled, tripped by a creeper, and rolled on the ground among the vines. He had me under, like a cat with a squirrel, but I felt him beginning to quiver all over. My grip had not been broken for a moment, but now it nearly gave way; a weakness was stealing over me, for he was crushing my ribs where I had received the blow with the nugget club. This was the particular time when the bear-skin helped me out.

Something smarted my leg then—the brand of fire. I had struck against it. This made me furious. A gush of hot, new strength welled up in my veins and along all my sinews. My finger-ends dug in about his wind-pipe deeper and deeper. I heaved him over; his arms were becoming like lead; his motions were powerless; all the force seemed slipping from his body. Knowing my time had come, I gave the knife in my hand a sudden turn and push against the jugular vein, swelling beneath my pressure, and felt him shudder in death in a moment.

Until I was sure he would move no more, nor raise a sound, I remained astride his chest. The stillness then was awful. Not a sound could I hear but that of my own laboured breathing and the trickle and drip of this creature’s blood. I admit the dread of it all made me tremble. It seemed such a ghastly end to my innocent escapade.

But having plunged so deeply into the business, for the sake of a bit of fire, I did not intend to leave the work unfinished because of this unavoidable incident. Therefore I caught up the glowing branch, which had nearly been smothered out as we rolled it in the grass, and blowing upon it to liven it up, I stole away from that gory arena.