Among the Brigands Part 34

"Dat is right," said the guide. "Dat is so. Bot sommataime dey go wild--dey lose der young--or sommatin like dat, so dey go wild, and wander, an if dey happen to come near a villa, dey are terrible."

"But how could this one have come here?"

"Italia is full of dem--dey wander about like dis."

"But they live so far off."

"O, no; dis one come from de mountain--not far--dat old house in de valley, just de place for his den."

After this Frank could doubt no longer, although he had been so obstinate in his disbelief. The affair of the previous night had produced a powerful effect on his mind; and he was exceedingly unwilling to allow himself again to be beguiled into a belief in any danger that was not real. Had the guide not believed this so firmly, and insisted on it so strongly, he would have felt certain that the animal in the house was some commonplace one--a goat--a dog--anything, rather than a wild boar. However, as it was, he had nothing left but to believe what was said.

As for Uncle Moses, he was now quite himself again. The boys were safe, at any rate. True, they were confined in the loft of an old house, with a ferocious wild beast barring the way to liberty; but then he reflected that this ferocious wild beast could not get near them. Had it been a bear, the affair would have been most serious; but a wild boar, as he knew, could not climb into a loft. For among the intelligence which David and Clive had managed to communicate, was the very rea.s.suring fact that the boar could not get at them, as the loft was only reached by a ladder. The return to Albano was in every way satisfactory to his feelings, for he saw that this was the only way of delivering the boys, who could not be rescued without some more formidable arms than their own una.s.sisted strength.

In a short time they were back in Albano, and soon the news flew about the town. In accordance with the invariable rule, the story was considerably enlarged as it pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth, so that by the time it reached the last person that heard it,--a poor old bed-ridden priest, by the way,--it had grown to the following highly respectable dimensions:--

Two wealthy English milors had gone into the Alban tunnel in search of adventures. While down there they had discovered the lair of a wild boar, and had killed the young, the old ones being away. They had then made good their retreat, carrying their slaughtered victims with them. The wild boar had returned with the wild sow, and both, scenting their young pigs' blood in the air, had given chase to the murderers. These last had fled in frantic haste, and had just succeeded in finding a refuge in the old windmill, and in climbing into the upper loft as the infuriated animals came up. Seeing the legs of the murderers just vanis.h.i.+ng up into the hole, one of the beasts had leaped madly upward, and had bitten off a portion of the calf of the leg of one of them. Then, in sullen vengeance, the two fierce animals took up their station there, one in the chamber below, the other in front of the door, to guard their prey, and effect their destruction. They had already been there a week. One of the prisoners had died from the effects of his terrible wound, and the other was now dying of starvation. Fortunately, Brother Antonio (the guide) had been told about this in a vision the night before, had visited the surviving milor, had talked with him from a safe distance, had seen the terrible animals, and had now come to Albano to get help towards releasing the unhappy survivor.

From the above it may readily be conjectured that the call for help was not made in vain. The sufferings of the imprisoned captive excited universal sympathy, and the presence of the wild boars in so close proximity, filled all men with a desire to capture them or slay them. The story that was generally believed was one which may be briefly described as occupying a position somewhere about midway between the above startling fiction and the truth. Such as it was, it had the effect of drawing forth the population of Albano as it bad never been drawn forth before; and as they went forth they presented a scene such as those of which the mediaeval legends tell us, where the whole population of some town which had been desolated by a dragon, went forth en ma.s.se to do battle with the monster.

So they now marched forth,-- Men with scythes.

do. " hoes.

do. " rakes.

do. " shovels.

do. " tongs.

do. " brooms.

do. " bean-poles.

do. " carving-knives.

do. " umbrellas.

do. " stones.

do. " earthen pans.

do. " bricks.

do. " charcoal.

do. " chairs.

do. " spits.

do. " bed-posts.

do. " crowbars.

do. " augers.

do. " spades.

do. " stakes.

do. " clubs.

Men with staves, do. " opera-gla.s.ses.

do. " sickles.

do. " colters.

do. " ploughshares.

do. " wheelbarrows.

do. " pitchforks.

do. " posts.

do. " beams.

do. " bolts.

do. " bars.

do. " hinges.

do. " pokers.

do. " saucepans.

do. " mallets.

do. " hammers.

do. " saws.

do. " chisels.

do. " ropes.

do. " chains.

do. " grappling irons.

together with a miscellaneous collection of articles s.n.a.t.c.hed up at a moment's warning by an excited mult.i.tude, men, women, and children, headed by Frank, who wielded triumphantly an old fowling-piece, loaded with a double charge, that could do no damage to any one save the daring individual that might venture to discharge it.

CHAPTER XXVII.

_Arma Virumque cano!--The Chase of the Wild Boar!--The Prisoners at the Window.--The Alban Army.--Wild Uproar.--Three hundred and sixty-five Pocket Handkerchiefs.--Flame.--Smoking out the Monster.--A Salamander._

Arma puerosque cano!

Sing, O muse, the immortal Albanian Boar Hunt!

How outside the doomed town of Albano lurked the mighty monster in his lair.

How the frightened messengers roused the people to action.

How the whole population, stimulated to deeds of bold emprise, grasped each the weapon that lay nearest, whether bolt, or bar, or tool of mechanic, or implement of husbandry, and then, joining their forces, went forth to do battle against the Fell Destroyer.

How the pallid victims, imprisoned in the topmost tower, gazed with staring eyes upon the mighty delivering host, and shouted out blessings upon their heads.

How the sight of the pallid victims cheered the bold deliverers, and drew them nearer to the lair of the monster.

And so forth.

Very well.

To resume.

Stationed at the window, David and Clive saw their friends vanish in the direction of Albano, and knew that they had gone for help.

This thought so cheered them, that in spite of a somewhat protracted absence, they bore up well, and diversified the time between watchings at the window, and listenings at the head of the ladder.

From the window nothing was visible for a long time; but from the head of the ladder there came up at intervals such sounds as indicated that the fierce wild boar was still as restless, as ruthless, as hungry, and as vigilant as ever.

Then came up to their listening ears the same sounds already described, together with hoa.r.s.er tones of a more p.r.o.nouncedly grunting description, which showed more truly that the beast was in very truth a wild boar. But Clive did not venture down again, nor did he even mention the subject. His former attempt had been most satisfactory, since it satisfied him that no other attempt could be thought of. In spite of this, however, both the boys had risen to a more cheerful frame of mind. Their future began to look brighter, and the prospect of a rescue served to put them both.

into comparative good humor, the only drawback to which was their now ravenous hunger.

At length the army of their deliverers appeared, and David, who was watching at the window, shouted to Clive, who was listening at the opening, whereupon the latter rushed to the other window.