"As you say, saiyett. Shall I wake two of the girls? One alone may give way to fear."
The Tuginda looked down at the breathing figures, their tranquillity seeming as light, remote and precarious as that of fish poised in deep water.
"Let the poor lasses rest," she said. "I will take the watch myself."
10 The Finding of Shardik
AS THE SUN ROSE HIGHER and moved southward round the hill, the watery glitter from the reed beds, reflected into the trees along the shore, was sifted upward through the translucent leaves, to encounter at last and be dimmed by the direct rays penetrating among the higher branches. A green, faint light, twice reflected, shone down from the undersides of the leaves, speckling the bare ground between the tree trunks, placing the faintest of shadows beside fallen twigs, glistening in tiny points upon the domes of pebbles. Dappled by the continual movement of the sunlit water, the leaves seemed stirred as though by a breeze. Yet this apparent disturbance was an illusion: there was no wind, the trees were still in the heat and nothing moved except the river flowing outside.
Kelderek was standing near the shore, listening to the sounds from the jungle inland. He could tell that since his adventure of two days before--even since their landing the previous night--the confusion in the forest had lessened and the agitation of movement subsided. There were fewer cries of alarm, fewer startlings of birds and flights of monkeys through the trees. No doubt many of the fugitive creatures had already fallen prey to others. Of those surviving, most must have begun to move eastward down the island in search of food and safety. Some, probably, had taken to the water again, making for the Telthearna's southern bank on the opposite side of the strait. He had seen prints here and there in the mud and narrow passages broken through the reeds. The thought came to him, "Suppose he should be gone? Suppose he is no longer on the island?"
"We would be safe then," he thought, "and my life, like a stream after a cloudburst, would return between the banks where it ran two days ago." He turned his head toward the Tuginda who, with Bel-ka-Trazet, was standing a little way off among the trees. "But I could not become once more the man who fled from the leopard. Two days--I have lived two years! Even if I were to know that Shardik will kill me--and like enough he will--still I could not find it in my heart to pray that we should find him gone."
The more he considered, however, the more he felt it probable that the bear was not far away. He recalled its clumsy, weary gait as it made off through the bushes and how it had winced in pain when it scraped its side against the tree. Huge and fearsome though it was, there had been something pitiable about the creature he had seen. If he were right and it had been hurt in some way, it would be more than dangerous to approach. He had better put out of his mind for the moment all thought of Shardik the Power of God, and address himself to the daunting task--surely sufficient to the day, if ever a task was--of finding Shardik the bear.
Returning to the Tuginda and the Baron, he told them how he read the signs of the forest. Then he suggested that for a start, they might go over the ground which he had covered two days before, and so come to the place where he had first seen the bear. He showed them where he had come ashore and how he had tried to slip unseen past the leopard and then to walk away from it. They made their way inland among the bushes, followed by Melathys and the girl Sheldra.
Since they had left the camp Melathys had spoken scarcely a word. Glancing behind him, Kelderek saw her drawn face, very pale in the heat, as she lifted a trembling hand to wipe the sweat from her temples. He felt full of pity for her. What work was this for a beautiful young woman, to take part in tracking an injured bear? It would have been better to have left her in the camp and to have brought a second girl from among the servants; one dour and stolid as Sheldra, who looked as though she would not notice a bear if it stood on her toe.
As they approached the foot of the hill he led the way through the thicker undergrowth to the place where he had wounded the leopard. By chance he came upon his arrow and, picking it up, fitted the notch to the string of the bow he was carrying. He drew the bow a little, frowning uneasily, for he disliked it and missed his own. This was the bow of one of the girls--too light and pliant: he might have saved himself the trouble of bringing it. He wondered what that surly fool Taphro had done with his bow. "If ever we get back," he thought, "I'll ask the Baron to order it to be restored to me."
They went on cautiously. "This is where I fell, saiyett," he whispered, "and see, here are the marks the leopard made."
"And the bear?" asked the Tuginda, speaking as quietly as he.
"He stood below, saiyett," replied Kelderek, pointing down the bank, "but he did not need to reach up to strike the leopard. He struck sideways--thus."
The Tuginda gazed down the extent of the steep bank, drew in her breath and looked first at Bel-ka-Trazet and then back at the hunter.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"The leopard, as it crouched, was looking upward into the bear's face, saiyett," replied Kelderek. "I can see it still, and the white fur beneath its chin."
The Tuginda was silent as though trying to imagine more clearly the gigantic figure that had reared itself, bristling and snarling, above the level of the bank on which they stood. At length she said to Bel-ka-Trazet,
"Is it possible?"
"I would think not, saiyett," replied the Baron, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, let us go down," she said. Kelderek offered her his arm, but she gestured to him to turn back for Melathys. The priestess's breathing was quick and irregular and she leaned hard on him, hesitating at every step. When they reached the foot of the bank she set her back against a tree, bit her lip and closed her eyes. He was about to speak to her when the Tuginda laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You did not see the bear again after it left you here?"
"No, saiyett," he replied. "That's the way it went--through those bushes," he went across to the tree against which the bear had scraped its injured side. "It has not returned this way." He paused a few moments and then, trying to speak calmly, asked, "Am I to track it now?"
"We must find the bear if we can, Kelderek. Why else have we come?"
"Then, saiyett, it will be best if I go alone. The bear may be close and above all I must be silent."
"I will come with you," said Bel-ka-Trazet.
He unclasped the chain at his throat, took off his fur cloak and laid it on the ground. His left shoulder, like his face, was mutilated--humped and knotted as the exposed root of a tree. Kelderek thought, "He wears the cloak to conceal it."
They had gone only a few yards when the hunter perceived the tracks of the leopard, partly trodden out by those of the bear. The leopard, he supposed, had been injured but had tried to escape, and the bear had pursued it. Soon they came upon the leopard's body, already half-devoured by vermin and insects. There were no signs of a struggle and the bear's trail led on through the bushes to emerge in open, stone-strewn woodland. Here, for the first time, it was possible to see some distance ahead between the trees. They halted on the edge of the undergrowth, listening and watching, but nothing moved and all was quiet save for the chittering of parakeets in the branches.
"No harm in the women coming this far," said Bel-ka-Trazet in his ear; and a moment later he had slipped noiselessly back into the undergrowth.
Kelderek, left alone,
tried to guess which way the bear might have taken. The stony ground showed no tracks, however, and he felt himself at a loss. The Baron did not return and he wondered whether perhaps Melathys might have fainted or been taken ill. At last, growing weary of waiting, he counted a hundred paces to his right and then began to move slowly in a wide half-circle, examining the ground for the least sign--tracks, claw marks, droppings or shreds of hair.
He had completed perhaps half this task without success when he came once more to the edge of a belt of undergrowth. It did not extend far, for he could glimpse open ground beyond. On impulse he crept through it and came out at the top of a grassy slope, bordered on each side by forest and stretching away to the northern shore of the island and the Telthearna beyond. Some little way from where he stood was a hollow--a kind of pit about a stone's throw across. It was surrounded by bushes and tall weeds, and from somewhere in the same direction came a faint sound of water. He might as well go and drink, he thought, before returning. To recover the bear's tracks, now that they had lost them, would probably prove a long and arduous business.
Setting off across the open ground, he saw that there was indeed a brook running down the slope beyond the hollow. The hollow was not directly in his way, but out of mere curiosity he turned aside and looked down into it. Instantly he dropped on his hands and knees, concealing himself behind a thick clump of weeds near the verge.
He could feel the pulse behind his knee like a finger plucking the tendon and his heart was beating so violently that he seemed to hear it. He waited, but there was no other sound. Cautiously he raised his head and looked down once more.
In contrast to the heat-parched forest all about, the ground below was fresh and verdant. On one side grew an oak, its lower branches level with the top of the pit and spreading over the ground near the brink. The foot of the trunk was surrounded by short, smooth turf and close by, in its shade, lay a shallow pool. There was no outfall and, as he watched, the water, still as glass, reflected two ducks, which flew across a shield-shaped cloud, wheeled in the blue and passed out of sight. Along the further edge rose a bank and over this grew a tangle of trepsis vine--a kind of wild marrow, with rough leaves and trumpet-shaped scarlet flowers.