“Who else is for glory?” cried Piko.
“There stand the bards!” cried Hello.
But now there rushed among the crowd a haggard figure, trickling with blood, and wearing a robe, whose edges were burned and blacked by fire. Wielding a club, it ran to and fro, with loud yells menacing all.
A noted warrior this; who, distracted at the death of five sons slain in recent games, wandered from valley to valley, wrestling and fighting.
With wild cries of “The Despairer! The Despairer!” the appalled multitude fled; leaving the two kings frozen on their throne, quaking and quailing, their teeth rattling like dice.
The Despairer strode toward them; when, recovering their senses, they ran; for a time pursued through the woods by the phantom.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Taji Still Hunted, And Beckoned
Previous to the kings’ flight, we had plunged into the neighboring woods; and from thence emerging, entered brakes of cane, sprouting from morasses. Soon we heard a whirring, as if three startled partridges had taken wing; it proved three feathered arrows, from three unseen hands.
Gracing us, two buried in the ground, but from Taji’s arm, the third drew blood.
On all sides round we turned; but none were seen. “Still the avengers follow,” said Babbalanja.