The Day of Resis

by Lillian Frances Mentor

Each had, seemingly, during the short interval of rest, selected its prey or opponent, for as far as could be seen the fight was a succession of duels, not more than two being engaged at once in tearing each other to pieces. Fastening their fiery eyes on each other they would retreat for a short distance, and then, with heads thrown back and their enormous jaws opened, would make a rush for each other, coming together with sickening force, their huge jaws crunching into each other’s bodies, or, perhaps fastening jaw into jaw. Then they would writhe and squirm, beating each other with their fins and tails. Upon becoming exhausted, if one or the other had not been overcome with the struggle they would disengage themselves, and retreating, rest for a moment and then make another rush for each other. Now they would dive, ripping each other with their murderous tusks, frequently both being beneath the surface, but the agitation of the water telling that the fearful battle was being continued far beneath.

Again they would rise to the surface, their bodies torn and lacerated, and blood from the gaping wounds dyeing the water a crimson red. One would finally succumb and the survivors, after giving their fallen antagonists a parting thrust, would swim away until outside the seething, battling mass. Here it would nurse its wounds, waiting seemingly for the horrible struggle to end. Here also it would be joined by other victors, but these undoubtedly having the proper respect for the fighting powers of those about them, would not again take the risk of being annihilated.

The duelling was becoming less fierce each moment for the weaker were fast being overcome and the survivors joining their victorious comrades. All this time the dreadful groans continued. Now the last victor had vanquished his foe and joined the others.

“Ah, the battle is finished,” said Mr. Bruce.

“No, not yet,” said Onrai. “Watch the line of victors.”

These had formed a straight compact line, and as if by a signal, they charged on the bodies of the dead and wounded floating on the surface. Their movements were as swift as lightning, and like a body of well-drilled cavalrymen they charged, killing the helpless wounded, and lacerating the bodies of the dead. Then they again retreated and, as the first faint rays of morn streaked the eastern heavens, they sank beneath the surface, leaving the bodies of their victims to rot in the heat of the equatorial sun.

When the party again reached the mainland, they were taken to the villa in which they were to spend the night. The men returned to the lake in the evening and watched the process of cutting up the monsters, and taking from them the fat which produced the oil. The remains of the animals were then piled in heaps and burned. One hundred and four had been killed the night before, but how many still remained to be slaughtered by their mates?

As the men stood watching the scene, Onrai said:

“This sight is even becoming loathsome to me; let us return to the villa.”

As they were crossing the broad avenue, a suspicion of music was wafted from the direction of the city. It was so faint that our friends could not say whether it was the music of distant harps, or the song of some night bird, far away. They stopped for a moment and listened, but the sound not again being heard, they resumed their walk toward the villa.