The Three Mulla-mulgars Page 9

  CHAPTER IX

  There was only the last of day in the forest. But Nod, dangling interror, could clearly see the Oomgar peering at him from beneath theunstirring branches--his colourless skin, his long yellow hair, hismusket, his fixed, glittering eyes. And there came suddenly a voice outof the Oomgar, like none the little Mulgar had ever heard in his lifebefore. Nod screamed and gnashed and kicked. But it was in vain. It onlynoosed him tighter.

  "So, so, then; softly, now, softly!" said the strange clear voice. TheOomgar caught up the slack end of the noose and wound it deftly aroundhim, binding him hand and foot together. Then he took a long steel knifefrom his breeches pocket, cut the cord round Nod's neck, and let himdrop heavily to the ground. "_Poor_ little Pongo! poor leetle Pongo!" hesaid craftily, and cautiously stooped to pick him up.

  Nod could not see for rage and fear. He drew back his head, and withall his strength fixed his teeth in that white terrible thumb. TheOomgar sucked in his breath with the pain, and, catching up the littleMulgar's own cudgel that lay in the snow, rapped him angrily on thehead. After that Nod struggled no more. A thick piece of cloth was tiedfast round his jaws. The Oomgar slipped the barrel of his musket throughthe Cullum-rope, lifted the little Mulgar on to his back, and strode offwith him through the darkening forest.

  They came out after a while from among the grasses, vines, andundergrowth. The Oomgar climbed heavily up a rocky slope, trudged onover an open and level space of snow, across an icy yet faintly stirringstream, and came at length to a low wooden house drifted deep in snow,in front of which a big fire was burning, showering up sparks into thestarry sky. Here the Oomgar stooped and tumbled Nod over his shoulderinto the snow at a little distance from the fire. He bent his head tothe flames, and examined his bitten thumb, rubbed the blood off with ahandful of snow, sucked the wound, bound it roughly with a strip of bluecloth, and tied the bandage in a knot with his teeth. This done, makinga strange noise with his lips like the hissing of sap from a greenstick, he began plucking off the wing and tail feathers of a large greybird. This he packed in leaves, and uncovering a little hole beneath theembers, raked it out, and pushed the carcass in to roast.

  He squinnied narrowly over his shoulder a moment, then went into his hutand brought out a cooking-pot, which he filled with water from thestream, and put into it a few mouse-coloured roots called Kiddals, whichin flavour resemble an artichoke, and are very wholesome, even whencold. He hung his cooking-pot over the fire on three sticks laidcrosswise. Then he sat down and cleaned his musket while his supper wascooking.

  All this Nod watched without stirring, almost without winking, till atlast the Oomgar, with a grunt, put down his gun, and came near and stoodover him, staring down with a crooked smile on his mouth, between hisyellow hair and the short, ragged beard beneath. He held out hisbandaged thumb. "There, little master," he said coaxingly, "have anothertaste; though I warn ye," he added, wagging his head, "it'll be yourwerry last." Nod's restless hazel eyes glanced to and fro above thestifling cloth wound round his mouth. He felt sullen and ashamed. Howhis brother Thimble would have scoffed to see him now, caught like asucking-pig in a snare!

  The Oomgar smiled again. "Why, he's nowt but skin and bone, he is;shivering in his breeches and all. Lookee here, now, Master Pongo, orwhatsomedever name you goes by, here's one more chance for ye." He tookout his knife and slit off the gag round Nod's mouth, and loosened thecord a little. Nod did not stir.

  "And who's to wonder?" said the Oomgar, watching him. He began warilyscratching the little Mulgar's head above the parting. "It was a cruelhard rap, my son--a cruel hard rap, I don't gainsay ye; but, then, youmust take Andy's word for it, they was cruel sharp teeth."

  Nod saw him looking curiously at his sheep's-jacket, and, thinking hewould show this strange being that Mulla-mulgars, too, can understand,he sidled his hand gently and heedfully into his pocket and fetched outone of the Ukka-nuts that old Mishcha had given him.

  At that the Oomgar burst out laughing. "Brayvo!" he shouted; "that'smother-English, that is! Now we's beginning to unnerstand one another."He poured a little hot water out of his cooking-pot into a platter andput it down in the snow. Nod sniffed it doubtfully. It smelt sweet andearthy of the root simmering in it. But he raised the platter of waterslowly with his loosened hands, cooled it with blowing, and supped it upgreedily, for he was very thirsty.

  The Oomgar watched him with an astonished countenance. "Saints save us!"he muttered, "he drinks like a Christian!"

  Nod wriggled his mouth, and imitated the sound as best he could."Krisshun, Krisshun," he grunted.

  The stooping Oomgar stared across the fire at Nod in the shadow as a manstares towards a strange and formidable shape in the dark. "Saints saveus!" he whispered again, crossing himself, and sat down on his log.

  He scraped back the embers and stripped the burnt skin and frizzledfeathers off his roasted bird, stuck a wooden prong into a Kiddal, and,with a mouthful of bird and a mouthful of Kiddal, set heartily to hissupper. When he had eaten his fill, he heaped up the fire with greenwood, tied Nod to a thick stake of his hut, so that he could lie incomfort of the fire and to windward of its smoke; then, with a tossed-upglance at the starry and cloudless vault of the sky, he went whistlinginto the hut and noisily barred the door.

  Softly crooning to himself in his sorrow and loneliness, Nod lay longawake. Of a sudden he would sit up, trembling, to glance as if from adream about him, then in a little while would lie down quiet again. Atlast, with hands over his face and feet curled up towards the fire, hefell fast asleep.

  When Nod woke the next morning the Oomgar was already abroad, and busyover his breakfast. The sun burned clear in the dark blue sky. Nodopened his eyes and watched the Oomgar without stirring. He stood inheight by more than a hand's breadth taller than the Gunga-mulgar. Buthe was much leaner. The Gunga's horny knuckles had all but brushed theground when he stood, stooping and glowering, on legs crooked andshapeless as wood. The Oomgar's arms reached only midway to his knees;he walked straight as a palm-tree, without stooping, and no black,cringing cunning nor bloodshot ferocity darkened his face. His hairdangled beaming in the sun about his clear skin. His hands were onlyfaintly haired. And he wore a kind of loose jacket or jerkin, made ofthe inner bark of the Juzanda-tree (which is of finer texture than theMulgars' cloth), rough breeches of buffskin, and monstrous boots. Butmost Nod watched flinchingly the Oomgar's light blue eyes, hard as ice,yet like nothing for strangeness Nod had ever seen in his life before,nor dreamed there was. But every time they wheeled beneath their lidspiercingly towards him he closed his own, and feigned to be asleep.

  At last, feeling thirsty, he wriggled up and crawled to the dish, whichstill lay icy in the snow, and raised it with both hands as far as hismanacles would serve, and thrust it out empty towards the Oomgar.

  The Oomgar made Nod a great smiling bow over the fire in answer, andfilled it with water. Then, breaking off a piece of his smoking flesh,he flung it to the Mulgar in the snow. But Nod would not so much asstoop to smell it. He gravely shook his head, thrust in his fingers, anddrew an Ukka-nut out of his pocket. "And who's to blame ye?" said theOomgar cheerfully. "It's just the tale of Jack Sprat, my son, overagain; only your little fancy's neether lean nor fat, but monkey-nuts!"He got up, and, screening his eyes from the sun, looked around him.

  Then Nod looked, too. He saw that the Oomgar had built his hut near theedge of a kind of shelving rock, which sloped down softly to a cliff orgully. A little half-frozen stream flowed gleaming under the sun betweenits snowy banks, to tumble wildly over the edge of the cliff in blazingand frozen spray. Beyond the cliff stretched the azure and toweringforests of Munza, immeasurable, league on league, flashing beneath thewhole arch of the sky, capped and mantled and festooned with snow. Nearby grew only thin grasses and bushes of thorn, except that at thesouthern edge of the steep rose up a little company or grove ofUkka-nuts and Ollacondas. Toward these strode off the Oomgar, with athick billet of wood in his hand. When he reached them, he stoodu
nderneath, and flung up his billet into the tree, just as Nod himselfhad often done, and soon fetched down two or three fine clusters ofUkka-nuts. These he brought back with him, and held some out to thequiet little Mulgar.

  "There, my son," he said, "them's for pax, which means peace, youunnerstand. I'm not afeerd of you, nor you isn't afeerd of me. All'sspliced and shipshape." So there they sat beneath the blazing sun, thedazzling snow all round them, the Oomgar munching his broiled flesh, andstaring over the distant forest, Nod busily cracking his Ukka-nuts, andpeeling out the soft, milky, quincey kernel. Nod scarcely took hisbewitched eyes from the Oomgar's face, and the longer he looked at him,the less he feared him. All creatures else he had ever seen seemed darkand cloudy by comparison. The Oomgar's face was strange and fair, likethe shining of a flame.

  "Now, see here, my son," said the Oomgar suddenly, when, after finishinghis breakfast, he had sat brooding for some time: "I go there--_there_,"he repeated, pointing with his hand across the stream; "and MonkeyPongo, he stay here--_here_," he repeated, pointing to the hut. "Now,s'posin' Andy Battle, which is _me_"--he bent himself towards Nod andgrinned--"s'posin' Andy Battle looses off that rope's end a little more,will Master Pongo keep out of mischief, eh?"

  Nod tried hard to understand, and looked as wise as ever he could. "UllaMulgar majubba; zinglee Oomgar," he said.

  Battle burst out laughing. "Ugga, nugga, jugga, jingles! That'sit--that's the werry thing," he said.

  Nod looked up softly without fear, and grinned.

  "He knows, by gum!" said Battle. "There be more wits in that leetlehairy cranny than in a shipload of commodores." He got up and loosenedthe rope round Nod's neck. "It's only just this," he said. "Andy Battleisn't turned cannibal yet--neither for white, black, nor monkey-meat. Iwouldn't eat you, my son, not if they made me King of Englandto-morrow, which isn't likely to be, by the look of the weather, so_don't ee have no meddlin' with the fire_!"

  "Middlinooiddyvire," said Nod, mimicking him softly.

  And at that Battle burst into such a roar of laughter the hut shook. Hefilled Nod's platter with water, and gave him the rest of the Ukka-nuts.He went into the hut and fetched musket, powder, and bullets. He put athick-peaked hat on his head, then, with his musket over his shoulder,he nodded handsomely at the little blinking Mulgar, and off he went.

  Nod watched him stride away. With a hop, skip, and a jump he crashedacross the frozen water, and soon disappeared down the steep path thatled into the forest. When he was out of sight, Nod lay down in theshadow of the log-hut. He felt a strange comfort, as if there wasnothing in all Munza-mulgar to be afraid of. His rage and sullennesswere gone. He would rest here awhile with this Oomgar, if he were askind as he seemed to be, and try to understand what he said. Then, whenhis feet were healed of their sores and blains, and his shoulder wasquite whole again, he would set off once more after his brothers.

  All the next day, and the day after that, Nod sat patient and still,tethered with a long cord round his neck to the Oomgar's hut. WhenBattle spoke to him he listened gravely. When he laughed and showed histeeth, Nod showed his cheerfully, too. And when Battle sat silent andcast down in thought, Nod pretended to be unspeakably busy over hisnuts.

  And soon the sailor found himself beginning to look forward to seeingthe hairy face peering calmly out of the sheep's-jacket on his returnfrom his hunting. On the third evening, when, after a long absence, hecame home, tired out and heavy-laden, with a little sharp-hornedImpolanca-calf and a great frost-blackened bunch of Nanoes, he took offNod's halter altogether and set him free.

  "There!" said he; "we're messmates now, Master Pongo. Andy Battle's hada taste of slavery himself, and it isn't reasonable, my son. It frets inlike rusty iron, my son; and Andy's supped his fill of it. I takes toyour company wonnerful well, and if you takes to mine, then that'splain-sailing, says I. But if them apes and monkeys over yonder are moreto your liking than a shipwrecked sailor, who's to blame ye? Every manto his own, says I; breeches to breeches, and bare to bare. The werryfirst thing is for me and you to unnerstand one another."

  Nod listened gravely to all this talk, and caught the sailor's meaning,what with a word here, a nod, a wink, or a smile there, and the jerk ofa great thumb.

  "But as for Andy Battle," went on the sailor, "he never were much struckat a foreign lingo. So, says I, Andy shall learn Master Pongo his'n. Andhere goes! That," said he, holding up a great piece of meat on hisknife--"that's _meat_."

  "'Zmeat--ugh!" said Nod, with a shudder.

  "And this here's nuts," said Battle.

  "'Znuts!" repeated Nod, rubbing his stomach.

  Battle rapped on his log. "Excellentissimo!" he said. "He's a scholardborn. Now, monkeys like you," he went on, looking into Nod's face, "ifI make no mistake, the blackamoors calls 'Pongoes.'"

  Nod shook his head.

  "No? 'Njekkoes, then," said the sailor.

  Nod shook his head again. "Me Mulla-mulgar, Pongo--Jecco"--he shook Inshead vehemently--"me Mulla-mulgar Ummanodda Nizza-neela."

  The Oomgar laughed aloud. "Axing your pardon, then, Master NoddleEbenezer, mine's Battle--Andrew, as which is Andy, Battle."

  "Whizzizandy--Baffle," said Nod, with a jerk.

  "Fam_ous_!" said the sailor. "Us was a downright dunce to you, my son.Now, then, hoise anchor, and pipe up! Andy Battle is an Englishman; hip,hooray! Andy Battle----"

  "'Andy Baffle----'"

  "'Is an----'"

  "'Izzn----'"

  "'Is an Englishman.'"

  "'Izziningulissmum,'" said Nod very slowly.

  "'Hip, hooray!'" bawled Battle.

  "'Ippooray!" squealed Nod. And Battle rocked to and fro on his log withlaughter.

  "That's downright rich, my son, that is! 'Izzuninglushum!' As sure asever mariners was born to be drownded,

  "We'll sail away, o'er the deep blue say, And to old England we'll make our way."

  A piece of silver for a paw-shake, and two for a good-e'en. Us 'll makea fortune, you and me, and go and live in a snug little cottage withsix palm-trees and a blackamoor down Ippleby way. Andrew Battle, knightand squire, and Jack Sprat, Prince of Pongo-land. Ay, and the King shallcome to sup wi' us, comfortable-like, 'twixt you and me, and drinkhisself thirsty out of a golden mug."

  And so it went on. Every day Battle taught Nod new words. And soon hecould say a few simple things in his Mulgar-English, and begin to makehimself understood. Battle taught him also to cook his meat for him,though Nod would never taste of it himself. And Nod, too, out of Suddand Mambel-berries and Nanoes and whatever other dried and frostedfruits Battle brought home, made monkey-bread and a kind of porridge,which Battle at first tasted with caution, but at last came to eat withrelish.

  The sailor stitched his friend up a jacket of Juzanda cloth, withBamba-shells for buttons, and breeches of buff-skin. These Nod dyed darkblue in patches, for his own pleasure, with leaves, as Battle directedhim. Battle made him also a pair of shoes of rhinoceros-skin, nearlythree inches thick, on which Nod would go sliding and tumbling on theice, and a cap of needlework and peacocks' feathers, just as in hisdream.

  There were many things in Battle's hut gathered together for traffic andpleasure in his journey: a great necklace of Gunga's or Pongo's teeth; abagful of Cassary beads, which change colour with the hour, a bolt-eyedJoojoo head, a bird-billed throwing-knife, also beads of Estridges'eggs, as large as a small melon. There was also, what Battle cherishedvery carefully, a little fat book of 566 pages and nine woodcuts thathis mother had given him before setting out on his hapless voyagings,with a tongue or clasp of brass to keep it together. Moreover, Battlegave Nod a piece of looking-glass, the like of which he had never seenbefore. And the little Mulgar would often sit sorrowfully talking to hisimage in the glass, and bid the face that there answered his own be offand find his brothers. And Nod, in return, gave Battle for a keepsakethe little Portingal's left-thumb knuckle-bone and half the fadedCoccadrillo saffron which old Mishcha had given to him.

  Of an evening these
castaways had music for their company--a bell ofcopper that rang marvellously clear across the frosty air, and wouldbring multitudes of night-birds hovering and crying over the hut inperplexity at the sweet and hollow sound. And besides the bell, Battlehad a cittern, or lute, made of a gourd, with a Jugga-wood neck like afiddle. Stretched and pegged this was, with twangling strings made of aclimbing root that grows in the denser forests, and bears a flowerlovelier than any to be seen on earth beside. With Battle thrumming onthis old crowd or lute, Nod danced many a staggering hornpipe andMulgar-jig. Moreover, Battle had taught himself to pick out a melody ortwo. So, then, they would dance and sing songs together--"Never, tir'dSailour," "The Three Cherrie-trees," "Who's seene my Deere with Cheekesso redde?" and many another.

  Battle's voice was loud and great; Nod's was very changeable. For theupper notes of his singing were shrill and trembling, and so the bestpart of his songs would go; but when they dipped towards the bass, thenhis notes burst out so sudden and powerful, it might be supposed fourmen's voices had taken up the melody where a boy's had ceased. Itpleased Battle mightily, this night-music--music of all the kinds theyknew, white man's, Jaqqua-music, Nugga-music, and Mulla-mulgars'. Nod,too, often droned to the sailor, as time went on, the evening song toTishnar that his father had taught him, until at last the sailor himselfgrew familiar with the sound, and learned the way the notes went. Andsometimes Battle would sit and, singing solemnly, almost as if a littleforlornly, through his nose, would join in too. And sometimes to seethis small monkey perched up with head in air, he could scarce refrainhis laughter, though he always kept a straight face as kindly as with achild.

  But the leopards and other prowling beasts, when they heard the sound oftheir strings and music, went mewing and fretting; and many a greatpython and ash-scaled poison-snake would rear its head out of its longsleep and sway with flickering tongue in time to the noisy echoes fromthe rocky and firelit shelf above. Even the Jack-Alls and Jaccatrayssquatted whimpering in their bands to listen, and would break when allwas silent into such a doleful and dismal chorus that it seemed to shakethe stars.