Tales from silver lands

by Charles Joseph Finger

When the sky was rose-tinted again they went on their way, making for a narrow pass like a sword-slash in the mountains, and by noon they had reached the stony cut. High and bare were the white rocks on either side and gloomy was the pass, nor of living thing was there sign save a condor wheeling high. But from the rocks came strange noises, whistlings and screamings, then of a sudden, like a thunder clap, a mighty roar as from many voices, and the noise of it echoed and re-echoed from rock to rock so that the din was deafening, and when they spoke one to another, mouth went to ear and hands were cupped. Then, when they were well within the pass, marching over a floor so covered with sharp-pointed rocks and great round boulders that they had to slacken their pace, there came from above a great rock which fell ahead of their path so as to block the way, except for a narrow passage on either side. Looking up, they saw, crowded on the tops of the high cliffs on every hand, snag-toothed, evil-eyed fellows who crawled about the rocks as though they had been lizards, so sure of foot were they. They knew then that they were in the land of the wild men of the mountain, the crag men, fellows strong and stark, full of hate and viciousness.

Of a sudden, from one of the creatures who stood far up in the cleft of a rock, one whose hair and beard were long and white and tangled, came a hoarse cry, and lifting high above his head a rock greater than ten armadillos he cast it downward with great force. Ill would it have been for any youth struck by it, but so badly and swiftly was it thrown that it passed over the heads of all, struck the wall on the farther side, and burst into a hundred pieces. So the youth with the bright eyes called on his fellows to hold their shields above their heads, edge to edge and overlapping in such wise as to form a roof, which they did. Well it was thus, for stones rattled down like hail, some so great that those on whom they fell were almost borne to earth with the sheer weight, for the men of the crags were many and strong. Yet the weight being shared by reason of the jointed shields, all went well, for each youth’s care was for his fellow.

In one place the pass ran narrow, and there one of the crag men, a fellow of great animal strength and swiftness, suddenly leaped down and bore one of the twin brothers to earth by the violence of his flight through the air, for the men of the crags leaped from rock to rock like wildcats. It was Balanque who was thus struck down, but he was on his feet in an instant, drew his sword hastily, and as the crag man rushed at him with jaws all foam-flecked and horrible he passed his blade through the crag man’s chest. But the fellow was like a wild boar, pressing on regardless of the hurt, so that he ran up onto the hilt, caught the youth by the waist, and flung him over his shoulder. In a moment more he would have been on his way up the face of the cliff. As it was, seeing what had come to pass, the crag men set up a great yelling and screaming, thinking that victory already lay with their man. But Bright Eyes was not idle. He fitted an arrow to his bow and let fly, the shaft passing through the crag man’s neck, so that he stood, as it were, spitted, and let Balanque fall. Pierced though he was with both arrow and sword, yet there was life in him and he fled to the rock face and clambered up, leaving a trail of red wherever he passed, and was seen no more by any of the band.

No pause all this while was there in the shower of stones, but, shields well locked, the band pressed on, foot by foot, each youth stern to win and proud of his companion, each youth keeping the eye of hope on the thin, bright strip of blue at the end of the pass where the mountains would fall away. And there they came at last, toil-worn but heart-strong, to the plain where the crag men dared not follow, some of them almost weeping for joy because shoulder to shoulder they had again fought their way through a great danger and an evil place, where, had but one failed, all might have been lost.

There were four hundred and two happy youths that night, though the place where they slept was bare of grass and trees, and in the morning they were well rested and strong, for as they had lived well and cleanly and none having a darkened window in his breast, their sinews were as steel, and every day was a new life in which to enter with eyes bright and shining.

The sun had not far risen; indeed, there seemed but a hand’s breadth between the lower edge of it and the world’s edge, when a great wonder appeared before their eyes. It was as if the sun were suddenly blotted out, for what they had taken to be a low, faintly rising hill in the east had risen up, stood for a moment like a vast cloud, then passed swiftly to the south. At the same time there came a roar like thunder from the cloudlike form, which came near to deafening them. And the roar formed into words:

“I am Zipacna whom men cannot slay,

There’s naught that I fear save the watery way.”

That rolled rumblingly as thunderings between earth and sky, now loud, now softer, as Zipacna strode from valley to valley. A little later he came in sight again, but far to the north of where they were, then vanished from their sight into the cleft of the hills where they had battled with the crag men.

Now fearful as was the sight of the giant, yet no fear was in any heart, so, having made a meal and rested for a season, without more to-do they set off for the place from which the giant had arisen. It was long before they got there, but at last they stood on the edge of a long and narrow cañon at the end of which was a mighty pile of bones, not alone of animals but also of men, and there were human skulls there and shells of sea-crabs, and in and among all these crawled venomous serpents. But most of all were there sea-crab shells.