small beginnings of future great things.
there was one thing, however, which threw a cloud over the rejoicing with which the conquerors hailed this memorable victory.
gunrig’s wound turned out to be a very severe one—much more so than had been at first supposed—for the arrow had penetrated one of his lungs, and, breaking off, had left the head in it.
as bladud was the only one of the host who possessed any knowledge of how to treat complicated wounds, he was “called in,” much against the wish of the wounded man; but when the prince had seen and spoken to him, in his peculiarly soft voice, and with his gentle manner, besides affording him considerable relief, the chief became reconciled to his new doctor.
“i thought you a savage monster,” said the invalid, on the occasion of the amateur doctor’s third visit; “but i find you to be almost as tender as a woman. yet your hand was heavy enough when it felled me at the games!”
“let not your mind dwell on that, gunrig; and, truth to tell, if it had not been for that lucky—or, if you choose, unlucky—blow, i might have found you more than my match.”
the chief held out his hand, which the doctor grasped.
“i thought to kill you, bladud; but when i get well, we shall be friends.”
poor gunrig, however, did not from that day show much evidence of getting well. his case was far beyond the skill of his amateur doctor. it was, therefore, resolved, a day or two later, to send him home under an escort led by beniah.
“i will follow you ere long,” said gadarn, as he grasped the hand of the invalid at parting, “for i have business at the court of king hudibras.”
gunrig raised himself in the litter in which he was borne by four men, and looked the northern chief earnestly in the face.
“you have not yet found your daughter?” he asked.
“well—no. at least not exactly.”
“not exactly!” repeated gunrig in surprise.
“no; not exactly. that’s all i can say at present. all ready in front there? move on! my greetings to the king, and say i shall see him soon. what, ho! konar, come hither! know you where i can find prince bladud?”
“in his booth,” replied the hunter.
“send him to me. i would have speech with him.”
when the prince entered the booth of the commander-in-chief, he found that worthy with his hands on his sides, a tear or two in his eyes, and very red in the face. he frowned suddenly, however, and became very grave on observing bladud.
“i sent for you,” he said, “to let you know my intended movements, and to ask what you mean to do. to-morrow i shall start for your father’s town with all my men.”
“what! and leave your daughter undiscovered?”
“ay. of what use is it to search any longer? there is not a hole or corner of the land that we have not ransacked. i am certain that she is not here, wherever she may be; so i must go and seek elsewhere. wilt go with me?”
“that will not i,” returned bladud decisively.
“wherefore? the hebrew tells me you are cured; and your father will be glad to have you back.”
“it matters not. i leave not this region until i have made a more thorough search for and found the lad cormac, or at least ascertained his fate.”
“why so anxious about the boy? is he of kin to you?” said gadarn in a tone that seemed to convey the slightest possible evidence of contempt.
“ay, he is of kin,” returned bladud, warmly; “for it seems to me sometimes that friendship is a closer tie than blood. at all events, i owe my life to him. moreover, if he has been captured by robbers, i feel assured that he will escape before long and return to me.”
“indeed! are you, then, so sure of his affection? has he ever dared to say that he—he is fond of you?”
“truly, he never has; for we men of the southern parts of albion are not prone to speak of our feelings, whatever you of the north may be. but surely you must know, chief, that the eyes, the tones, and the actions, have a language of their own which one can well understand though the tongue be silent. besides, i do not see it to be a very daring act for one man to tell another that he is fond of him. and you would not wonder at my regard, if you only knew what a pure-minded, noble fellow this cormac is,—so thoughtful, so self-sacrificing, for, you know, it must have cost him—it would cost any one—a terrible effort of self-denial to dwell in such a solitude as this for the sole purpose of nursing a stranger, and that stranger a doomed leper, as i thought at first, though god has seen fit to restore me.”
“nevertheless, i counsel you to come with me, prince, for i have no intention of giving up the search for my child, though i mean to carry it on in a more likely region; and who knows but we may find cormac—ha!” (here there was a peculiar catch in gadarn’s throat which he sought to conceal with a violent sneeze)—“ha! find cormac in the same region!”
“that is not likely. i see no reason why two people who were lost at different times, and not, as far as we know, in exactly the same place, should be found”—(here the chief had another fit of sneezing)—“be found together. at any rate, i remain here, for a time at least. my old friend dromas will remain with me, and some of my father’s men.”
as gadarn could not induce the prince to alter his decision, and, for reasons of his own, did not choose to enlighten him, they parted there—the chief setting off with his troops in the direction of hudibras’ town, and the prince returning to his booth, accompanied by captain arkal, little maikar, the hunter of the hot swamp, and about thirty of his father’s men, who had elected to stay with him.
“as i am now cured, good konar,” said bladud to the hunter, while returning to the booth, “and as i have enough to do in searching for my lost friend, i fear that i must end my service with you, and make over the pigs to some other herd.”
“as you please, prince,” returned the eccentric hunter with the utmost coolness, “the pigs were well able to look after themselves before you came, and, doubtless, they will be not less able after you go.”
bladud laughed, and, putting his hand kindly on the man’s shoulder, assured him that he would find for him a good successor to herd his pigs. he also asked him if he would agree to act as hunter to his party, as he intended to remain in that region and build a small town beside the springs, so that people afflicted with the disease from which he had suffered, or any similar disease, might come and be cured.
konar agreed at once, for a new light burst upon him, and the idea of living to serve other people, and not merely to feed himself, seemed to put new life into him.
“do you really mean to build a town here?” asked dromas, when he heard his friend giving orders to his men to erect a large booth to shelter them all for some time to come.
“indeed, i do. so thankful am i, dromas, for this cure, that i feel impelled to induce others to come and share the blessing. i only wish i could hope that you would stay in albion and aid me. but i suppose there is some fair one in hellas who might object to that.”
“no fair one that i know of,” returned dromas, with a laugh, “and as i have left neither kith nor kin at home, there is nothing to prevent my taking the proposal into consideration.”
“that is good news indeed. so, then, i will ask you to come along with me just now, and mayhap you will make up your mind while we walk. i go to fix on a site for the new town, and to set the men to work.”
that day the voices of toilers, and the sound of hatchets and the crash of falling trees, were heard in the neighbourhood of the hot swamp, while the prince and his friend examined the localities around in the immediate vicinity of the fountain-head.
on coming to the fountain itself, the young men paused to look at it, as it welled up from the earth. so hot was it that they could not endure to hold their hands in it, and in such volumes did it rise, that it overflowed its large natural basin continually, and converted a large tract of ground into a morass, while finding its way, by many rills and channels, into the adjacent river.
“what a singular work of nature!” remarked dromas.
“why not say—a wonderful work of god?” replied the prince.
“come now, my friend, let us not begin again our old discussions. what was suitable for the groves of hellas is not appropriate to the swamps of albion!”
“i agree not with that, dromas.”
“you were ever ready to disagree, bladud.”
“nay, not exactly to disagree, but to argue. however, i will fall in with your humour just now, and wait for what you may deem a more fitting time. but what, think you, can be the cause of this extraordinary hot spring?”
“fire!” returned the greek promptly.
“truly that must be so,” returned the prince, with a laugh. “you are unusually sharp this morning, my friend. but what originates the fire, and where is it, and why does it not set the whole world on fire, seeing that it must needs be under the earth?”
“it would be better to put such questions to the wise men of egypt, next time you have the chance, than to me,” returned dromas, “for i am not deep enough in philosophy to answer you. nevertheless, it does not seem presumptuous to make a guess. that there is abundance of fire beneath the ground on which we tread is clear from the burning mountains which you and i have seen on our way from hellas. probably there are many such mountains elsewhere, for if the fire did not find an escape in many places, it would assuredly burst our world asunder. what set the inside of the world on fire at the beginning is, of course, a puzzle; and why everything does not catch fire and blaze up is another puzzle—for it is plain that if you were to set fire to the inside of your booth, the outside would be shrivelled up immediately. then,” continued dromas, knitting his brows and warming with his subject, “there must be a big lake under the earth somewhere, and quite close to the fire, which sets it a-boiling and makes it boil over—thus.”
he pointed to the fountain as he spoke.
“there may be truth in what you say, dromas. at all events your theory is plausible, and this, i know, that ever since i came here, there has not been the slightest diminution in the volume of hot water that has poured forth; from which i would conclude that it has been flowing thus from the beginning of time, and that it will go on flowing thus to the end.”
we know not whether the reader will be inclined to class bladud among the prophets, but there are some prophets who have less claim to the title, for it is a fact that in this year of grace, 1892, the output of hot water from the same fountain, in the town of bath, is one million tons every year, while the quantity and the temperature never vary in any appreciable degree, summer or winter, from year to year!
having discussed the philosophical aspect of the fountain, the two friends proceeded with the work then in hand.
of course, as they gazed around at the richly wooded hills and attractive eminences, which were not only charming sites for the little town, but also well suited for fortresses to resist invasions they were naturally tempted to sacrifice the useful to the safe and beautiful. fortunately wisdom prevailed, and it was that day decided that the site for swamptown should be on a slope that rose gently from the river bank, passed close by the hot swamp, and was finally lost in the lovely wood-clad terraces beyond.
“we must, of course, confine the hot stream within banks, train it to the river, and drain the swamp,” observed bladud, as he sat brooding over his plans that night at supper.
“ay, and make a pond for sick folk to dip in,” said dromas.
“and another pond for the healthy folk,” suggested captain arkal; “we like to give ourselves a wash now and then, and it would never do for the healthy to go spluttering about with the sick—would it?”
“certainly not,” interposed little maikar, “but what about the women? they would need a pond for themselves, would they not? assuredly they would keep us all in hot water if they didn’t have one.”
“i see,” said bladud, still in a meditative mood. “there would have to be a succession of ponds alongside of the hot stream, with leads to let the water in—”
“and other leads to let the overflow out,” suggested the practical arkal.
“just so. and booths around the ponds for people to dry themselves and dress in. ha!” exclaimed the prince, smiting his knee with his hand. “i see a great thing in this—a thing that will benefit mankind as long as disease shall afflict them—as long as the hot waters flow!”
he looked round on his friends with an air of combined solemnity and triumph. the solemnity without the triumph marked the faces of his friends as they returned the look in profound silence, for they all seemed to feel that the prince was in a state of exaltation, and that something approaching to the nature of a prophecy had been uttered.
for a few moments they continued to gaze at each other—then there was a general sigh, as if a matter of great importance had been finally settled, and the silence was at last broken by little maikar solemnly demanding another rib of roast-beef.
