Chapter XIX: A Prehistoric Siege

It was some job building a stockade, with knives as their only tools. But it had to be done, and so it was done. Until it was completed, some one always remained on guard while the others slept.

Then two roofed shelters were erected within the stockade, one for the women and the other for the men. A little spring bubbled from the ground within their inclosure; it was this that had determined the location. The smooth-skinned lizards of the river proved not bad eating, but their only vegetable was heart of palm, as they didn't dare try anything else.

By tacit agreement, Norse was the only language used, even between the two Americans, who rapidly mastered at least the rudiments of the ancient tongue. Scarface was most attentive to Borghild, and Nils to Theresa, while Helga acted as chaperon.

Their clothing rapidly became simplified. By pooling all their dress-goods, they were able to fashion two simple tunics apiece. Helga and Borghild did their hair in two long braids, and Terry looked forward to the time when her now-scraggly bob would permit her to do likewise. Jimmy let his--beard continue to grow, a magnificent black mattress, which concealed most of his scar; but Nils, having little facial hair because of his youth and blondness, was able to keep fairly clean-shaved with a knife, except for his drooping yellow mustache. Scarface and Theresa discarded their shoes and fashioned themselves moccasins and Norse leggings out of lizard-hide.

Their days were fully employed: hunting, cooking, expeditions to the sea for shell-fish and squid, strengthening their defenses, teaching and studying Norse--and making love. It was only in the last-named pastime that Helga could not share. At such times she was depressed, quite naturally, being separated hundreds or thousands of miles from her Eric. Were ships and gliders searching for her, she wondered, or would he think her dead? And, horrible thought, would he marry again? No wonder the love-making of the others, who seemed not discontented with this opportunity to get acquainted, rendered her gloomy.

They started building a large raft down at the beach, for they figured that it would be impossible to cross the rivers of this land, because of the slimy denizens of its mucky shores, but that it should be feasible to paddle out to sea and follow the shore.

One day one of the girls made an interesting discovery. For a mirror they had all had to use a little pool in the brook, halfway from the stockade to the river, and this was most inconvenient. But now Helga noticed that the inner bark, where it peeled dryly off one of the logs of the stockade, was shiny and silvery like tin-foil. This gave her an idea. As time hung heavy on her hands, she set about to put her discovery to practical use.

Finding another tree of the same species, she skinned some of the inner bark and let it dry. But the result was disappointing, for it dried all crinkly and rumpled-up, like used tin-foil.

However, the girl noticed that it shrank as it dried, and this gave her a further idea. She made a circular drum of palm-branches, like an embroidery-hoop, and on this she stretched some fresh inner bark. When this dried, it was taut and smooth, and lo she had a mirror!

With these various occupations, days and perhaps weeks wore on. The construction of a raft, and of paddles for it, was nearly completed at the beach.

* * * * *

One tragic morning, however, they awoke at cock-crow. Now, generally speaking, there is nothing strange or tragic in awakening in the morning at cock-crow. But in a land where there is no morning, but rather perpetual noonday with the sun always at the zenith, and where there are no cocks to crow, nor for that matter any other birds of any sort, such a combination of circumstances is a bit unusual, to say the least.

Of course, there was no actual morning; merely the time for arising from sleep. The sun shone squarely overhead as usual. But, as to the cock-crowing, there could be no mistake. They all heard it. The two Americans were used enough to the barnyard variety to recognize the sound.

The crowing which had disturbed them was answered from another quarter, and then there was silence. Hastily the five dressed, and mounted upon the platform which ran around the inside face of their palisade.

At first nothing was to be seen, but soon there emerged from the jungle the most peculiar gigantic fowl-like creature that any of them had ever beheld. It looked for all the world like a plucked chicken from a meat market, except that it towered all of ten feet high. It had thick slate-colored skin; small arms bearing claws, instead of wings; and no comb.

Stretching its neck aloft, and standing on tiptoe, the reptilian fowl proceeded to crow, with a voice that shook the earth. The challenge was answered by another stentorian crow from near by; and presently a second similar beast came upon the scene.

The two reptiles crouched low, stretched their necks toward each other, and teetered in unison for a moment; then suddenly, as at a signal, leaped into the air together, striking at each other with huge spurs which protruded from the inner sides of their legs. The little arms were not used.

"Gee, Mr. Jimmy," exclaimed little Terry, quite forgetting her duty to speak only Norse, "this is some cock-fight!"

And so it was. The two creatures repeated their cycle of maneuvers over and over again, until one of them reeled backward upon the ground. Thereupon the other, disregarding all further formalities, kicked his prostrate foe about, until finally the body lay still. Then, standing in triumph upon the dead body, he gave one victorious crow, and waddled off.

The five spectators immediately shifted their interest from the thrill of battle to the prospect of a chicken dinner. Unbarring their gate, they rushed out and dragged the huge carcass within. But the victor, seeing his victim apparently alive and moving away from him, came running back with angry clucks, and nearly got in after his dead adversary, before they could close and bar the gate.

After a period of silence, Jimmy mounted the platform to see if the coast was clear again, and just barely escaped a vicious poke in the face from the giant gamecock, which had been standing quietly outside. The beast then stuck its head over the edge and tried to reach for Jimmy, who hastily scrambled down.

Thereafter, no one dared to get onto the platform, for fear of being pecked--and it would only take one peck from that great bill to kill a man.

But for the present the presence of their besieger didn't matter, as they busied themselves with cooking slices of his victim.

* * * * *

Presently they heard much clucking outside, and glancing through the cracks between the posts of their wall, they saw twenty or more similar giant fowl on the hill-top. But these new creatures had shorter necks and no spurs, and were rather stouter in build than the two who had fought.

The reptilian family settled down and made a regular ogres' farmyard out of the entire open space around the fort. They became more and more inquisitive as to what was inside, especially after devouring the offal from the slain rooster which was thrown outside. Not only did they keep craning over the top of the palisade, and snapping at any one who ventured upon the platform, but finally they took to pecking at any one who even tried to peek at them through the cracks. It was a state of siege.

The supply of heart of palm gave out. The remains of the chicken meat spoiled, and had to be thrown away. It soon became evident that they would have to fight or starve, so they called a council.

"We must try to make our way through them to the raft," announced Scarface. "Yet we may not survive to reach the shore. Before I die, I should like to marry Borghild. Can it not be arranged?"

"It can," replied Nils, "for I am not only a bishop, but also the head of her family. However, you have no man to act as your best friend and recount to me your deeds of prowess, in order to obtain my consent."

"Need it be a man?" asked the gangster.

"It always has been a man, since the beginning of our race," replied the Viking.

"But need it be?" insisted Scarface. "Is there any rule or law, other than mere custom, which compels it?"

"No-o," hesitated Nils.

"Then, Helga, quick! Be my sponsor."

Helga smiled. She remembered how she had sent Eric Redmond to Nils, when the latter was still a boy, to ask him to vouch for Eric to her father, the Bishop Thorvald.

She reminded Nils of that episode, and then launched into a panegyric, in which Scarface Boston Jimmy's tales of his World War adventures and career as a Chicago bootlegger--all strangely garbled--were made a foundation for his bravely risking his life in the Viking glider against Nick Fratelli, his defense of the Viking ship from pursuit, his rescue of the girl whom now he claimed, and his wood-craft and leadership in their present predicament.

It was a stirring saga, and all present were much impressed, not the least of them Jimmy himself. Nils gave his consent, and the nuptials were rushed, for there was no time to be lost if they would escape before starvation overcame them.

Thus Borghild Hoglund, the Viking maid, became Mrs. James Lefavour.

* * * * *

When the ceremony was over, Nils said, "I, too, wish to marry, if Theresa will have me. As bishop, I can ordain Jimmy to the Norse ministry, so that he can perform the sacrament. He is the nearest to a legal guardian that Terry has; and anyway, by virtue of being a bishop, I can appoint him to that position, too. Helga, will you sing a sister's praises of her brother, for Jimmy's ears to hear?"

Helga and Borghild smiled their approval. Scarface, however, was a bit appalled at the thought of himself, a bootlegger and gangster, receiving holy orders.

But little Terry interrupted. "Oh, Nils, I'm not sure, I'm not sure. Aren't we rushing into this merely because we may be about to die? Please give me time to think calmly."

Nils pleaded with her in vain; then at last he put his arms around her protectingly.

"I'll wait."

Scarface then outlined the plan of attack. They were to wrap their spare garments about their heads for protection. Each was to carry a stout stick. He would begin by trying to shoot the rooster. Then they were to fling open the gates, throw the coals of their cooking-fire at the hens, and run the gantlet to the beach.

So Scarface mounted the platform; and, as the cock's head appeared, he discharged his entire clip in its hideous face. Blinded and squawking, the beast rushed away, and tore around the inclosure like mad, finally dropping in his tracks.

Then the door was unbarred; and, as the female reptiles made a rush for it, hot coals were shoveled in their faces. They withdrew, squawking, for a short distance; but, when the five humans emerged, the hens rushed back at them again.

Beating the hens about the legs, and on the heads whenever they stooped to peck, the five prisoners fought their way onward. But something like the senseless persistency which causes a modern hen to run across the road in front of an automobile caused these prehistoric creatures to go perversely in the opposite direction from that in which they were being driven.

Gradually the progress of the five humans slowed down. Gradually they tired. At last Scarface gave the command to fall back toward the palisade again. Soon they were within its protecting walls, with the gate barred once more; trapped by carnivorous reptiles of a bygone age.