The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

“Halt!” thundered Mr. Bruce. “Stand fast and do not let them force your line.”

And the black demons came, never stopping until within range, when Mr. Bruce, giving command, a volley of arrows poured into the negroes and nearly the entire front line of these fell. This checked the negroes but rallying in a moment they again charged, and before the Onians could raise their bows, the negroes had raised their spears and hurled them at their enemy. The volley made most frightful havoc with the front rank, and the Onians fell back for a moment, for the first time in their lives seeing a body of their men killed in this way. They looked at the dead and wounded, not knowing what to think of this fearful slaughter, and again the strange fear began to creep over them.

“On, men, do not stop!” commanded Onrai, seeing them falter, “or they will kill you all. Don’t you see they have killed your comrades? Avenge them!”

And the men, looking up, and seeing the black demons on them, and fearing the same fate which had met their companions, made a rush, and with the daggers uplifted, on they went at the blacks, meeting them with a crash as they came forward, and hurling them back by their superior weight. Then began a most fearful slaughter. The Onians, remembering the death of their companions, became as Bruce had said they would, regular fighting machines. Even he and his subordinates were swept on by the irresistible ranks from the rear as they pushed their companions forward. Perfect order was kept, however, and those in the front ranks wielded the dagger with fearful force and alacrity. The negroes, overpowered, and almost crazed with fear at the slaughter going on among their people, forgot all about fighting or even defending themselves.

The one great desire to escape these fearful daggers took complete possession of them; they turned on their countrymen who were crowding them forward, and using their hatchets, fists or feet, they walked, ran, rolled or crowded over these, trying to get out of reach of those muscular arms which were now as bloody as the knives they wielded, but stained with the blood of the negroes. At last they broke into a run and started for the crevice, which was a good four or five miles distant. The Onians needed no orders now, but rushed wildly after the fleeing negroes. The negroes being light of limb, however, and probably used to such rough fields as this, gained on the Onians and were some distance ahead, when, looking ahead of them they saw another band marching toward them. This proved to be a reinforcement, and the chief of the routed band, after haranguing his tribe for a moment, prevailed on them to turn, and with the reinforcement again give the giants battle.

The flying Onians were again brought to a halt by Mr. Bruce, and formed in regular line of battle. The remaining negroes also formed in line of battle and advanced, as nearly as could be judged, almost in equal numbers to the Onians. Their chief was again running up and down in front of the line crying, and soon had the men worked up into another fiendish frenzy. Mr. Bruce halted his men, determined to wait for the negroes. The negroes came tearing forward until within a few feet of the Onians, when the latter again raised their cross-bows and sent a volley of arrows into the front ranks of the negroes. But the negroes were expecting them now, and turned the arrows aside with their shields, scarcely a dozen having fallen. They did not stop, but kept up the mad rush until within twenty-five feet of the Onians, when they stopped suddenly and their right arms shooting out quickly the fearful, sharp, spear-pointed hatchets, flew toward the Onians, and striking the unprotected bodies of the giants, passed clear through them. Then, with a sudden jerk of the wrist, the hatchet was wrenched from the gaping wound, and pulled back to the negro by the leather string which was attached to the handle of the hatchet. Then again would the deadly weapon be hurled, and again buried in the breast of a fresh victim; and again and again, the whole fearful thing being done so quickly that the weapon could scarcely be seen flying through the air. The slaughter was worse than had been that of the negroes by the knives of the Onians. The horribly lacerated bodies were being piled up high on the ground, but the brave Onians still stood perfectly helpless in front of those merciless hatchets.

Mr. Bruce was nonplussed for a moment. This style of warfare was so new to him and so horrible, he could but look and wonder at the horrible ingenuity of the weapons.

“Send a volley of arrows into them,” cried the King, who seemed to come to his senses first.

The men mechanically raised their bows, but before they could spring them, the deadly hatchets struck them full in the chests or bodies, and torn and bleeding, with a hole clean through them, in which an arm could have been shoved, they fell headlong over the bodies of their companions, who had met the same miserable fate. The situation was becoming desperate. Men who had shown such bravery, and who could on equal terms annihilate the army before them, were beginning to quail before that fearful onslaught, and were unconsciously probably, falling back. Still that fearful, never-ceasing charge of flying hatchets. Slowly the men fell back, but the movement was becoming quicker each moment. In a few minutes more they would be in a run, and all would be lost.

Mr. Bruce was growing desperate, as he saw this grand army being demoralized by one which was so inferior in every respect. Riding down the line with the huge elephant, which was pierced by the hatchets as he passed before them, he called to the men to take courage and rally once more. Onrai, too, rode before them, and by every word he knew, tried to imbue them with new courage. But he understood how these poor men, who had been kept in ignorance their whole lives, of the existence of other races, and the art of fighting, could not understand why this awful slaughter should be, or who these demons could be who were mowing them down by hundreds. The horrible dread was taking possession of them again, and Onrai and his companions saw this.