Part 8 (1/2)
”No, mother; they were lodged in jail at Vannes, all except two of their soldiers whom the magistrates charged to declare to the Roman general that no provisions whatever were to be furnished him, and that his officers were to be as hostages.”
”It would have been better to give the officers a thorough caning and drive them in disgrace out of the town,” replied Mamm' Margarid. ”That is the way thieves are treated, and these Romans tried to rob us.”
”You are right, Margarid,” said Joel; ”they came to rob us--to starve us! to carry away our harvests and our cattle!” And Joel, now in a towering rage, added: ”By the vengeance of Hesus! To think of their taking our fine turn-out of six young oxen with skins slick as wolves!
Our four yokes of black bulls that have such a beautiful white star in the center of their foreheads!”
”And our beautiful white heifers with yellow heads!” said Mamm' Margarid shrugging her shoulders and never quitting her distaff, ”our sheep whose fleece is so nice and thick.... Come, a good caning for these Romans!”
”And the powerful horses of the stock of your magnificent stallion Tom-Bras,” put in the traveler. ”They will, after all, have to draw your harvest to Touraine, and will then serve to replace the worn-out horses of the Roman cavalry.... True, to them, the labor will not be excessive ... because you will now probably discover that it is not far from Touraine to Britanny.”
”Well may you mock, friend,” said Joel. ”You were right, and I confess myself to have been wrong. Oh! If only the provinces of Gaul had from the start confederated themselves against the first a.s.sault of the Romans! If united they had put forth but one-half the efforts that they put forth separately--we would not now be exposed to the insolent demands and to the threats of these heathens! Well may you mock!”
”No, Joel, I will mock no longer,” gravely answered the traveler. ”The danger is near; the hostile camp lies only a twelve day's march from here; the refusal of the magistrates of Vannes and the imprisonment of the Roman officers--all that means speedy war--a merciless war, as only the Romans know how to wage! If we are vanquished it means to us death on the battle field, or slavery far away! The slave merchants follow the tracks of the Roman army; they are greedy after prey. Whatever survives, whether whole or wounded--men, young women, girls, children--all are sold at auction like cattle for the benefit of the vanquisher, and are forthwith consigned by the thousands to Italy or to Southern Gaul where the Romans are settled! Arrived at their destination, the male slaves of robust frame are often forced to fight ferocious animals in the circus for the amus.e.m.e.nt of their masters; the young women and girls, even the children are subjected to monstrous debaucheries. Such is war with the Romans if vanquished!” cried the stranger. ”Will you allow yourselves to be vanquished? Will you submit to such disgrace? Will you deliver to them your wives, your sisters, your daughters and children, ye Gauls of Britanny?”
Hardly had the traveler uttered these words when the whole family of Joel--men, women, young girls, children--all down to the dwarfy Stumpy, rose to their feet and with their eyes shooting fire, their cheeks inflamed, cried tumultuously, waving their arms:
”War! War! War!”
Joel's large battle mastiff, fired by these cries, rose on his hind legs and laid his fore-paws on the breast of his master, who, while caressing his enormous head said:
”Yes, old Deber-Trud, like our tribe you will hunt the Romans.... The quarry shall be for you.... Your jaws shall be red with blood!... Wow!
Wow, Deber-Trud! At the Romans! At the Romans!”
Hearing the well-known war-cry, the mastiff responded with furious barks, displaying fangs as redoubtable as a lion's. Hearing Deber-Trud, the outside watch-dogs, as well as those locked up in the kennels, answered him. Frightful was the war-cry raised by the pack.
”A good omen, friend Joel,” observed the traveler. ”Your dogs bark death to the enemy.”
”Yes, yes; death to the enemy!” cried the brenn. ”Thanks be to the G.o.ds, in our Breton Gaul, on the day of peril, the watch-dog becomes a war-dog! the draw-horse becomes a war-horse! the ox of the field a war-ox! the harvest carts chariots of war! the laborer a warrior! even our peaceful and fruitful earth turns to war and devours the stranger!
at every step he finds a grave in our fathomless marshes, and his vessels vanish in the whirlpools of our bays which are more terrible in their calm than in the tempest of their fury!”
”Joel,” now said Julyan, who had left the body of his friend, ”I promised Armel to meet him to-morrow yonder--Such a death would be pleasant to me.... To die fighting the Romans is a duty.... What shall I do?”
”Ask to-morrow one of the druids of Karnak.”
”And our sister Hena,” said Albinik the mariner to his mother. ”It is nearly a year I have not seen her.... She is surely still the pearl of the Isle of Sen? My wife Meroe charged me to remember her to Hena.”
”You will see her to-morrow,” answered Mamm' Margarid; and laying down her distaff she arose. It was the signal for the family to retire. Mamm'
Margarid looked around and said:
”Let us retire, my children; it is late; to-morrow at break of day we must begin our war preparations;” and turning to the traveler:
”May the G.o.ds grant you a good rest and pleasant dreams!”
CHAPTER VIII.
FAREWELL!
Agreeable to his promise, Joel pushed off his boat early the next morning, accompanied by his son Albinik the mariner, and took the unknown traveler to the island of Kellor, seeing he did not dare to land at the sacred precincts of the Isle of Sen. The brenn's guest said a few words in a low voice to the ewagh who mounts perpetual guard in the island's house. He seemed to be struck with respect and answered that Talyessin, the oldest of the living druids, who then was at the Isle of Sen together with his wife Auria, expected a traveler since the previous evening.