Semiramis: A Tale of Battle and of Love

by Edward Peple

Now Menon had tarried beside the lake of Ascalon for a longer space than was his wont to abide in any place; yet business there was none to stay his leave, nor taxes in arrears. The voice of duty whispered warnings in his ear, pointing unto urgent matters far afield; yet duty, he swore, might sleep with Gibil till Semiramis was seen again.

For many days he sought her among the hills, from the crack of dawn till the brazen sun went down, yet found her not; and his heart, because of its hunger for the maid, grew faint within him and clamored for a food denied.

Semiramis, too, was haunted by a certain restlessness of mind and foot, a goad which ever kept her on the move. Close hidden within some clump of trees, she would watch the hunter's fruitless search from hour to hour. Her eyes grew wistful, and a fever burned in her racing blood, though pride, a demon's pride, forbade that she suffer capture at his hands. If the seeker came near unto her hiding place, she would straightway creep away to some other vantage point and watch him with a scowl. Yet, because of his lack of craft in snaring her, hot anger mounted to the heights of foolishness, causing her to mutter curses on him, bitter, deep, and to vent her wrath upon things inanimate. At last she left the lover to his own device, and with her spear and arrows hunted far and wide, thus finding relief in a savage joy of killing beasts—the great, the small—she cared not which, so be it that she killed.

Then Menon, in despair, set Huzim on her trail, for in prowess of the chase, or in coming up with wary things, there were none the like of him throughout the land. So Huzim circled round about and found what his master sought.

At the close of one long red day, when the sun swung low and purple clouds were banked against the rim of night, the Indian bore word that Semiramis returned to Ascalon by way of a certain path; so Menon hid himself and lay in wait. From a leafy screen he watched her coming, while his breath grew warm and quick, and nearer she came, unconscious of the snare. Her bow and quiver rattled at her back with each slow step; she used her spear for a walking staff, and her flame-hued head was bowed upon her breast. In the dust she dragged the body of a leopard by its tail, while her sheep-dog Habal trotted at her heels.

Of a sudden Menon stepped across her path, and, with folded arms, stood smiling as he blocked her way. With a startled cry Semiramis leaped backward, while Habal crouched between his mistress and the man, his thick hair bristling down his spine, an ugly rumble in his hoarse, deep growl.

The Governor spoke contritely and in a prayerful tone, yet the maiden met his pleading with a torrent of abuse. This he bore with fortitude, and when she paused for breath, he strove to gain his end by reason, knowing not that an angry woman scorns it as she scorns no other thing in heaven or hell. Of this he learned unto his woe, but when he would have overborne her, snatching at her hand, she struck him with the butt of her hunting spear and set her dog upon him.

Straight at his throat the black dog leaped, but Menon caught it by the neck and held its jaws, though its strength was great and it battled with him mightily. For a space they struggled for a master-grip, yet Habal's teeth, in the end, were of no avail, for Menon squeezed him till his bones were like to crack, while he turned once more to Semiramis and urged his suit.

Now a lover will find a grievous task in murmuring into a maiden's ear, and at the same time hold a foaming, furious dog; so the maiden mocked him because of his sad discomfiture, and stirred his wrath. Peal on peal of impish laughter rang out in the twilight hush, till Menon cursed, and, clutching Habal still, turned angrily away.

Then the maiden's merriment died swiftly on her lips, for she saw that he stole her dog; and with a cry of fury she set a shaft upon her bow and drew it to its head. In an instant now the Governor would tax her land no more, and Habal and her heart might then be free. And yet she faltered—paused; then dashed her weapon on the earth, to fling herself beside it, weeping bitterly.