FOOTNOTES:
[AP] It is not uncommon for certain tubeweaving spiders to avail themselves of the friendly openings of land shells and spin their web therein. The Editor must confess that he has never seen any of his spider friends whose habits resemble that here attributed to Pixie Hide. But the Author is not without authority for the use made thereof; for Jones, in his "Animal Life," a well-known and excellent book on Natural History, relates an incident upon which the story of the Pixie Ram may have been founded.—F. M.
CHAPTER XXII.
"HAIR-BREADTH 'SCAPES BY FLOOD AND FIELD."
The gallant exploit of Ensign Lawe had been wrought while the two fleets were under full headway up the channel. After the first outbreak of anxiety, amazement and mockery, but little attention had been paid the Quixotic affair, as all voted it. Both fleets were intent upon the management of their ships. Pursuers and pursued crowded on all sail, and as a strong wind blew from the west they were a long way from the Ram at the moment of its destruction. A shout from Lawe's soldiers, who had hovered near during the strange duel, drew attention to the Brownie troopers.
"What is that?" asked Rodney of the lookout.
"I don't see yet. Yes, I make it out now; Lawe is struggling in the air with a Pixie who must have leaped from the Ram upon his pony. The Ensign is falling into the water. No! he has cut himself loose! The troopers wave their swords and shout like mad men."
"What of the Ram? How do the lads manage to escape the darts from the—?"
"See! See!" cried the lookout excitedly. "The Ram is settling into the water. The stern has been laid open from deck to keel. The waves rush in. She is sinking! Hurrah, hurrah!" The national standard was run up upon the flag-ship, and as the Natties uncovered and saluted the colors, cheer after cheer made the welkin ring. The Brownie bugles struck up one of their favorite national airs, "The Bonnie White Flag," which begins,
The Natties over the blue waves sail,
The Troopers cleave the air,
The Footmen tramp o'er hill and vale,
But one is the Flag we bear!
Chorus:
Huzza for the Flag we bear!
Huzza for the Name we wear!
We are one, we three,
Over shore and sea,
In the honors and toils we share
For the Flag and the Name we bear.
Ho—e—yo! Tu—loo—ra—lay
The bonny white Flag for aye!
The noble character of the Brownies was well shown by the absence of jealousy on this occasion. Although the navy had run from the Ram, the sailors cheered the good trooper who had conquered. However, the Ensign took no time to indulge in hurrahs and congratulations. He pushed to the shore, exchanged his injured pony for a fresh nag, and rode off to join MacWhirlie.
The Stygians at first could not credit the destruction of their naval machine, least of all that it had been wrought by a dragoon! Few of them had seen the combat. They had left the Ram, as they supposed, to follow and destroy the Ken, and had themselves pursued the fleeing Natties at full speed. Many of them had just seen the vessel as she went down. For the rest the vacant water was the proof. The Ram was gone! Their hopes had now also gone. With one half of the fleet on the other side of the channel, they deemed discretion the better part of valor, and slowly fell back toward their harbor again.
Rodney longed to follow them, but for several good reasons kept on his course up the channel. He had lost two of his best ships, with Pipe, Fluke, True, Blythe, Help, and many other brave men. In the hurly-burly no one had observed the escape of Help and his boat crew; they, as well as the crews of the Praise and the Hope, were thought to be lost. Moreover, he knew not but another Ram might be sent against him. Finally he feared that if he did stop to attack the Stygians in the harbor, the other squadron would sail around the island, and he would thus be caught between the two divisions. Much to his regret, therefore, he gave up the plan to join with the army in attacking Big Cave camp, and sailed up the channel to meet and engage the second Pixie squadron.
In the meantime MacWhirlie had fallen with his usual vigor upon the enemy's camp. The pickets had been driven in, and the outer line of works captured. The portable davids of the cavalry carried upon the backs of their bee ponies, a sort of flying artillery, were turned upon the tents and inner works, and the shot played merrily.
But as fortune would have it, Bruce failed to get up at the appointed time, and could not support his lieutenant by attacking on the other side of the camp. During the delay thus caused the incidents above related occurred; the Pixies rallied, and reinforced by Stygians from the returned ships, drove MacWhirlie back to the outer line of entrenchment. Here he put up breastworks, placed sentinels and picket lines, sent out scouts, and waited for his captain.
Bruce soon appeared and the line was completed around the Pixie camp, stretching in a half circle from shore to shore. The great drawback was the absence of the fleet. The Brownie commanders were concerned about the safety of their position. Could they hold it until Governor Wille came to their help? Or, would anything interfere to hinder him from keeping his promise? If he failed again, what should they do?
"However," said Bruce, "it is well not to cross a river until we come to it. Ensign Lawe, take a troop and ride over to the mansion. Get news of the Governor's purpose. Remind him of his promise. If there is any danger of another delay, come back post haste with the news. And now, my men, let us to breakfast, take a little rest and get ready for hard service. There's plenty of it before us."
Soon after the bugle had sounded the sick call, one of the sentinels on the picket line saw some one rapidly approaching from the direction of the Pixie camp.
"Halt! Who goes there?" he cried.
"A friend without the countersign."
"Advance, friend without the countersign."
Fig. 94.—"The Bugle had Sounded the Sick Call."
As the stranger drew near he showed the form and features of a Brownie soldier. They were indeed marred and wasted, and the uniform was tattered and soiled; but a Brownie soldier the fugitive certainly was. When he had come near enough the sentinel halted him and called:
"Corporal of the guard! Post four!" When the Corporal arrived the stranger was ordered to advance to the post.
"Who are you and whence do you come?" asked the Corporal.
"What! friend Steadypace," was the reply, "don't you know me? Well, well! A Pixie prison must have made sad changes in me if you can't recognize your old comrade Dodge."
"Dodge? Dodge! Can it be? Yes; so it is! Dear old fellow!" Corporal Steadypace embraced his friend, hurried him to the guard tent, had him fed and tidied up, meanwhile relating the particulars of Sergeant Clearview's story, and what the Brownies knew of his own capture. Thence Dodge was taken to headquarters, where he was heartily greeted by the Captain, and bidden tell the story of his adventures and escape.
"Well, Sir," said Dodge, "when our boat was captured, as Sergeant Clearview has told you, I was thought to be the only survivor of the scouting party. The Pixies made a great hurrah over me as they led me through their fort, and I was pelted, hooted and cursed by all the youngsters along the way. Spite the Spy tried hard to pump out of me some information about our plans, but failed."
Fig. 95.—The Labyrinth.
"Well, my daisy," he said at last, "we'll try you another time. Guards, take the Brownie off to the Labyrinth."
"At this order I was led away to the shore, ferried across the lake to Orchard Camp, and put in a prison located on the lake side within the Pixie picket lines. It is a curious structure, and looks as though several architects had wrought upon the design. One of the sides, built by Engineer Epeïra, is a delicately woven orbweb. The other side, together with the gables, battlements and roof have been built by Engineer Theridion. The upper part of the prison is a maze of crossed lines, in the midst of which is a dome after the style of Engineer Linyphia. Above the dome is a dry leaf rolled up into a hollow cylinder.[AQ] I was placed within this leaf, which served as a dungeon or cell, and just beneath me in the little silken dome the keeper of the prison had her station. Her name, as I soon learned, is Labryinthea, a suitable one certainly for the keeper of such an establishment. Occasionally, two or three Pixies would hang around the premises, joining in the watch or exchanging gossip and flirtations with Madam Keeper. A few survivors of a brood of younglings sported in the maze, and when a small insect struck and was entangled upon the threads, they would creep through the crosslines, seize the unfortunate prey and feed upon it."
"But Dodge, pray tell us how you saw all this from your inner prison?" asked the Captain.
Fig. 96.—"Above the Dome is a Dry Leaf Rolled Up."
"Certainly. I didn't see anything for some time, my leaf cell was so dark; but looking carefully around, I found one spot where the roof was nearly worn through. By some strange good fortune, when the Pixies searched me before bringing me to the prison, they overlooked my clasp knife which I had thrust into the band of my Scotch bonnet. I was thus able to work out a space large enough to let my head through. I cut out three sides neatly, and made a sort of trap door that hinged upon the uncut end. I was engaged on this for some time, as I had to work secretly, catch all the chippings in my hat, and then conceal them in my pockets. Had they dropped upon the domed roof below they would have awakened suspicion. By following the lines of the leaf veins I made a cut so clean and close that my door was quite concealed from ordinary notice. I now had many opportunities to peep out of my trap and see what was going on around me. I thought I knew something of Pixie tricks and ways before, but dear me! I learned more from that hole in the roof than I ever dreamed of.
"There were several Pixies domiciled on the branches of a tree that overhung the Labyrinth, whose manners especially interested me. They are practicing a new mode of harassing Brownies, a sort of patent spring net."
The Brownie officers quickened attention at this statement, for they are not only blessed with healthy curiosity, but naturally are always vigilant to meet their enemies' plots. Amidst a running fire of questions Corporal Dodge told the following story: One day while looking out of my door, I heard beneath me the voice of Spite the Spy. From the prison talk I had already picked up the news that Fort Spinder was abandoned, and the Pixies transferred to Orchard camp, and was not surprised at the chief's presence.
"Hello!" said Spite in his rough way, "Where's old Hyp this morning?"
Labyrinthea ran down her trap line, pushed her head between the bars of a window and called out, "Who's there?"
"Only myself, sweetheart!" answered one of her lovers; and thereupon he sprang out of an adjoining window and clambered up the ladder-like lines toward the keeper.[AR] But madam was in no humor for such trifling, so she lashed the gallant heartily with a whip of silken cords that she carried at her girdle along with the prison key. The amorous Pixie retreated, more rapidly than he had advanced, amidst the jeers and laughter of the crowd beneath. The keeper again looked out and seeing who was there, asked what was wanted.
"The Captain wants to see old Hyp," one of his aides replied.
Fig. 97.—Madam Labyrinthea Lashes an Impudent Lover.
"You'd better put a bridle on your tongue, young sir," was the response. "Isn't it just as easy to call folks by their proper names? 'Hyptiotes' isn't much more to say than 'old Hyp;' and besides shows decent respect to a better man than yourself."
Another burst of laughter greeted the discomfiture of the Pixie aide; after which Spite said: "We have called to see this patent spring net that Hyptiotes has invented. Where shall we find the fellow's laboratory? It is close by here we are told."
The party was directed to the adjoining tree, a low growth of pine, where they found the inventor awaiting them. He was already stationed upon his net, which he called from its shape the "Triangle," a name, by the way, that has been transferred to himself. It is in fact a triangular snare composed of four threads gradually widening at one end and at the other converging upon a single thread. The four threads are regularly crossed in the manner of the common orbweb, and indeed the whole snare resembles a section of four radii cut out of a round snare. The line upon which the threads converge is fastened to some fixed object and on this, back downward, Hyptiotes was placed.[AS]
When Spite's party arrived he left his position to greet them, and at once began to explain the spring net. His son was stationed on the trap line, and as he got into position I could see the whole snare rapidly tightening up until every cord was taut. "Now," said Hyptiotes, "observe that the operator holds that part of the trap line next the net within his hands. The part next the branch he holds with one foot. These two parts are drawn tight. Now see! between the lad's two feet there is a third portion of the line which is slack, and coiled up in a loose ball."
"Yes, yes," said Spite gruffly, "we all see that; but how does the machine work? That's what we want to know."
"Patience, Captain! I'm coming to that. Watch please! I will let this bit of leaf represent the insect, or a Brownie if you prefer. I shall throw it quickly against the net and do you note what follows."
As the scrap struck the cross lines, instantly the whole structure flew forward with a slight snap, then as suddenly was drawn taut, and again snapped loose. This was repeated several times. The leaf was caught by the sudden relaxing and shooting forward of the cross lines which by this motion were thrown around the leaf; the latter, after several springs of the net, was completely entangled and hung vibrating within the snare.
Fig. 98.—The Snare of Hyptiotes.
"There," cried Hyptiotes, "you see how well it works! Let me show you the principle. You have seen the coil of slack line between the two feet. Fix your eye now upon the foremost one. I will touch the net. See! instantly this claw releases its hold upon the line, and the whole net shoots forward as far as the coil will allow it. Follow closely, still, and you will see that the claws rapidly pull in and tighten up the trap line while the coil of slack line meanwhile again rolls up. That's the whole secret of my spring net." So saying, Hyptiotes put his front paws over his head, and stroked it forward with a self-satisfied air as though he, at least, had no doubt of the high merit of his trap.
Spite examined the structure carefully, made several more trials of its working, and then expressed his hearty approval. "Very good, indeed. I think it will be a valuable addition to our armory. Now, if we only had a few Brownies at hand for you to try it on, your demonstration would be quite perfect. By the way—" He clapped his hands together and laughed. "A capital idea that!"
He turned to his staff of Pixie officers, and made some remark which I could not hear. But they cast glances upward toward my prison, and the thought flashed upon me that Spite's sudden idea referred to me. Could it be possible? Did they mean to test their new machine on me? Two officers left the group and ran toward the main gate of the Labyrinth. I closed my trap door and with as composed frame as I could command, awaited the issue. Soon Madam Labyrinthea and the two Pixies were heard climbing up the ladder. They entered the dome; they ascended to my cell. "Come," they said without further ceremony, "follow us. Our Captain has sent for you."
I was led to Hyptiotes' grounds; the Pixies formed a wide circle around me and the inventor was ordered to go ahead. Of course my captors supposed me to be ignorant of their plans, and doubtless thought to take me by surprise. But I was on my guard, although I hid my knowledge under an indifferent mien. I secretly slipped my knife into my hand and waited.
"Go over to the opposite side of the circle!" ordered Spite. I started in a quiet walk.
"Run!" shouted Spite fiercely.
"Run, run!" echoed the whole crowd in chorus, no doubt thinking to startle and confuse me by their sudden clamor.
I quickened my gait to a brisk trot, but kept my eyes aslant toward the point where I saw young Hyptiotes waiting to cast the net. In a moment the snare left his hands and flew toward me. I dodged low to the ground and made a quick leap toward the narrow end of the snare, hoping thus to escape the worse entanglement of the wide end. I was only partly successful. In spite of my efforts I was caught in the narrow point of the net and thrown by a sudden jerk to the earth.
The Pixies set up a roar of joy, which was lucky for me, because under cover of their excitement I could use my knife unobserved. In a trice I had freed my limbs and risen upon my knees; and under pretence of struggling and swinging my arms, severed the trap line beyond the point of the snare with a swift stroke. I was free, and getting to my feet began quietly to brush the shreds of cobwebs from face and clothes.
The Pixie glee suddenly ceased. I heard the harsh voice of old Hyptiotes roundly berating his son whom he blamed, or chose to appear to blame, for the failure of his invention. I knew better, but kept my secret. However, I glanced toward young Hyptiotes who never moved a muscle during all the cursing and clamor that assailed him.[AT] Meanwhile I slipped my knife beneath my belt and quietly awaited the will of my captors.
"Take him back to prison," growled Spite; "We'll try him again to-morrow."
"Aye, aye," said old Hyptiotes, "and I'll then spring the net myself, and answer with my head that the miserable Brownie don't dodge out a second time."
Fig. 99.—"Young Hyptiotes Never Moved a Muscle."
I was led back to my cell, and my thoughts were not very agreeable, you may be sure. But I resolved to at least try to escape before the morrow. I knew my doom was sealed if I remained, and could be no worse were I caught trying to flee. I had already planned a way of escape, and made some preparations for it. I waited until nightfall, quietly opened my trap door, crept over the roof, and softly stepped upon the ladder-like lines of the maze which surrounds the prison. Just at that moment I heard a loud sound within the cell. As ill fate would have it, my keeper had taken a notion to visit me! Perhaps she was anxious about the morrow; maybe she only wished to enjoy a sight of my misery in view of my gloomy prospects. At all events, she had never before visited me at that hour, and now had happened upon me at the worst possible time. I cast an anxious glance backward, and, O wretched blunder! saw that I had forgotten to close the trap door behind me. My way of exit would of course be seen at once and the cry be raised.
What should I do? Think quickly, Dodge! and think well, for your life hangs upon this moment's decision. I heard the sharp cry of Madam Labyrinthea. I could feel the swing of her body as she threw herself upon the ladder that led up to the trap door.
In another moment
she would be upon
the roof and I should
be discovered. My
first thought was
to slide down to
the ground and
run for it. But a
second thought was
better. Just before me
swung within the
maze a triple
cradle or cocoon
string provided for the
young Labyrintheans. I
had already, in one of
my former night adventures, cut open one of these, and made a burrow within. I hardly knew at the time why I did this, but it was one of my old dodges (which I had taught Sergeant Clearview, by the way), when out on a scout to take refuge in one of these vacant Pixie baby houses. They are snug and comfortable places, too. Now I saw what to do! I swung myself, by a line across the intervening space, pushed open the little slit in the side of the cocoon, crawled within, curled myself up, drew down the flap closely, and waited.[AU] My heart beat a tattoo. I could see nothing, but heard the feet of Labyrinthea rattling over the roof; felt the tremor of the lines as she sprang from them, after a pause, during which I guessed that she was looking around for me. I heard her loud alarm to the guards; felt the shaking of the Labyrinth foundations as the Pixies ran to and fro; more than once felt the pressure of feet clambering over the cocoons in the hurried rush across the maze.
Fig. 101.—Labyrinthea's Cocoon String.
There was great commotion at the gate of the jail; then the din lessened, grew faint, rolled away and died out in the distance. No one had thought of my retreat as a possible hiding place. For the present at least, I was safe, though much cramped in my close quarters. I opened the slit for a breath of fresh air, and ventured to look out. All was still. Shall I slip out now or not? I queried. No! The whole Pixie host is afoot, beating the bushes in every quarter. I cannot run such a gauntlet of eager searchers without detection. I will wait until the pursuers are tired out and have returned. They will give me up, will relax guard around the prison, and beyond it the coast will be clear.
So I did. I heard the returning guards; heard Labyrinthea puffing and storming up the stairway to her dome, and as I kept the slit in the cocoon a little ajar could even make out her angry oaths. Her disappointment at my escape evidently softened her toward her gallants, for I heard her exchanging views with the one whom she had lashed away from her in the morning, over the mysterious disappearance of her prisoner. How could he have got off unnoticed? It was plain from the talk that Spite suspected the keeper herself of some connivance at my escape; but I wasn't much concerned about that.
As the day dawned everything was quiet. The keeper and guards were asleep. Now is my time, I thought. So I left my cramped but cosy silken retreat, slid down the ropes to the ground, and glided away into the grass. I got safely through the Pixie lines, made myself known to our own pickets, and here I am, thankful and happy as ever Brownie was or will be!
Dodge's story was eagerly listened to, and he was heartily congratulated upon his rare good fortune. Bruce and his officers questioned him about all that he had seen within the enemy's lines, and drew from him much valuable information. Then as a reward for his skill and pluck, and as a salve for his sufferings, he was promoted to be a sergeant and went away jubilant to his quarters.