VI
While they were building what they called a palace, but which was after all only a cage, several of the more impatient made a party and went to the other side of the river Mairure to hunt with arrows and spears. Of course they met their doom.
And another thing happened which greatly confused the honourable people of our countryside and emboldened the youth.
Young Zakkir, one of the bravest and cleverest of our hunters, went by himself and abode in the jungle a long time. We gave him up for dead; and since he did not return the girls sang him sweet funeral chants.
But a week later Zakkir returned, weak from loss of blood, covered with horrible wounds, but all the same radiant with joy and daring. Very unwillingly and evasively did he answer the questions of the oldest of us, but we often saw him talking to his comrades and the young fellows in lonely places. Very soon a rumour was spread through the village that Zakkir had met the dweller on the other side of the river Mairure and had battle with him.
We could not tolerate the blasphemous stories and the enmity which was being worked up against the oldest and wisest of the village. So Zakkir was taken and put to the torture in order that we might know what had in truth befallen him.
But Zakkir did not endure much torment, he confessed, and we listened to him in dread. These were his words:
“The night was calm, and there was no moon when I approached the thicket that stretches a three days’ journey beyond the river Mairure. My dagger was sharp and ready, my arrows poisoned, for I had firmly resolved to follow up and kill the monster. Suddenly, as near from me as a maiden stands looking at the youth she loves, as near as a little child throws a stone at the first attempt, I heard the roaring break forth. Moved by the power of the habit I fell down on my face on the earth and waited. I heard the heavy approach and the crackling of dry branches under feet. I waited. But a cold lizard slid along my leg as I lay and reminded me of the Emperor’s menagerie and the story of the beast in the palace. I already felt his hot and fiery breath upon me when I jumped to my feet and pulled out my dagger. I don’t know whether he whom I saw was of the stock of demons or of wild beasts, but he was immense fierce, green-eyed. His jaws were open to devour me, and the great white teeth made me tremble. In truth, whether demon, god, or beast, he is mighty and terrible. I don’t know how I kept my feet and did not fall down again before him. It was some power stronger than I that kept me face to face with him and made me slave of fate. I resolved to fight the monster whatever he was. The beast crouched to spring like a cat, and once more gave out the terrible roaring which filled me with quaking. But I followed his movements, and when he sprang I turned craftily and hid behind a tree. The beast prepared to spring again. His failure seemed to give him a grieved and shamed appearance; he slunk away and hid himself—cunning, cautious, evil. I hurriedly prepared an arrow, and its poisoned copper thrummed in the air and struck the beast as he sprang a second time. This time I did not succeed in dodging, and the cruel claws rent my body. But I plucked forth my dagger and fought with that till I fell to the ground unconscious from loss of blood. What happened I know not, but the beast went away without touching my body again. When I regained consciousness night was already over. As I lay, weak and smeared with blood, I saw the trace of the beast’s footsteps away from me. Then I understood that I had wounded him grievously, and that he had gone away to die perhaps, perhaps to heal his wounds with forest leaves.”
The old men deliberated a long while over the crime of Zakkir—could not make up their minds what to do, but at last the crafty Bellessis made a suggestion that won much praise.
“Let us wait till we hear the roaring again,” said he. “If we hear the voice again that will show the victory of the dweller on the other side of the river Mairure over death, and we will then deliver to him Zakkir, naked and bound. So shall we be requited for the insult, and his anger not fall upon us.”
The boys and girls of the village rejoiced, assuming that the beast was dead. “He is dead,” they cried; “he will not come and roar any more outside our houses.”
They crowned the rash and beautiful hunter with flowers, danced round him, and sang, and the sounds of flute and cymbal rose higher than the clouds.
But their joy did not last. Not a week passed before we heard the threatening voice once more.
And Zakkir was taken, made naked, bound, and placed in the jungle beyond the river. Next day, not far from the place where we left him, we found his bones. The boys and girls wept inconsolably, and the memory of Zakkir was ineffaceably printed on their hearts. But the elders cursed the daring one.