Part 32 (1/2)
Here she was tended carefully during the night, its gigantic owner stepping softly to its entrance at intervals to a.s.sure himself of her state. With morning she was able to rise, and as her faculties resumed their vigour, she realised the whole force of the blow that had fallen.
Ishtar's nature, however, was one which is only found amongst women.
Shrinking instinctively from everything approaching to pain or danger--fond, trusting, sensitive, and docile--she could yet brave and endure all things on behalf of those she loved; identifying herself so wholly with their welfare as to forget her own fears, her own weakness, and combining with the martyr's patient courage that cheerful energy, which, looking only to duty, overcomes, by sheer persistence, the difficulties it ignores. Sorrow might bend, but could not break her spirit. Like certain flowers which, tread them down as you will, lift their fair heads directly the crus.h.i.+ng footstep has pa.s.sed on, it rose, for all its meekness, the more invincible, because of its misfortunes.
Satisfied that Sarchedon was fairly gone, she set herself the one single task of recovering him. Was he sold into captivity? He must be bought back. Was he lost? He must be found. That should now be her sole object in life; and no sooner did she feel strong enough to stand upright than she began her work without wasting another moment in consideration or delay.
Seeking the chief of the Anakim, whom she found without the encampment leading his mare to water, she placed herself in his path, standing erect and motionless till he approached. Then she rent her garment to the hem, and, lifting a handful of sand, poured it over her head.
”The servant of my lord is in sore distress and perplexity,” said she: ”to whom should she come for help, but to him of whose bread and salt she has eaten within the shadow of his tents?”
The mare was rubbing her head caressingly against his breast; he pushed her away, extending both arms in token of sincerity, and replied, ”All that I have, my life, and the lives of my tribe, herds and horses, bows and spears, are at the disposal of my guest.”
”My lord speaks well,” answered Ishtar. ”But words are vain. Like the flight of a bird through the air, they leave no track. It is the steed and the camel that stamp their mark on the sand.”
”The tongues of the Anakim are small and feeble,” said he, ”their arms long and weighty. Desire of me what you will. It is a gift, before it is asked.”
”What have you done with the a.s.syrian?” she murmured eagerly. ”How fares he? Whither is he gone? You will not deceive me!”
”You are my guest,” returned the chief, ”and I _cannot_ deceive you. The a.s.syrian is sold into captivity; ere now he has journeyed many a furlong over the plain towards the city of the Great King.”
”Is he, then, bound for Babylon?” she asked, with something of hope rising in her eyes.
”I know not, of a surety,” was his answer. ”Yet I think these northern traders, possessing so goodly a captive, would hardly pa.s.s within a few days' journey of the great city, and fail to visit its market. They will treat him well, and if he finds friends to redeem him, he may soon be free. No doubt in Babylon he will sell for nearly a talent of gold, and we let him go at a hundred shekels of silver! Half the price of a camel!
Truly there is injustice in the desert as in the city!”
This reflection was unheard by Ishtar, being indeed but the echo of the chief's own thoughts, and spoken aside, as it were, into the ear of his mare.
There seemed a vague hope, then, of seeing Sarchedon once again. The girl seized her protector's hand, and, stooping but a little, pressed it against her forehead.
”You will take me under safe conduct to the gates of Babylon?” said she.
He pondered, looking very grave.
”Will you not abide with us in our tents?” he asked. ”Will you be cooped up in the walls of a city, when you might roam over the desert free as the wild a.s.s on the plain? Take thought, damsel, once more, as a man fits a new bowstring when his arrow has missed its aim.”
”Had I a quiverful,” she replied, ”I can see but one mark for them all!”
”You are my guest,” said he stoutly; ”and go where you will, it is my duty to speed you safely on your way. You shall ride this my own mare, the most precious of my possessions, and Lotus-flower, swift, easy, gentle, will bear you like flowing water. But I must leave you, damsel, under cover of night, in the vineyards that fringe the great city. If, for every horseman who leaps to the saddle when I shake my spear, I could muster a score, then should you enter Babylon through a breach of fifty cubits in the wall. But a wolf or a jackal would meet with more mercy than a child of Anak from the a.s.syrians when they set upon him, a hundred to one! I have spoken.”
Their journey was begun accordingly. Ishtar, mounted on the chief's favourite mare, led by its owner, and guarded by a score of the stalwart sons of Anak, journeyed in security and comfort through the wilderness, until they reached its confines, and entered a territory over which Ninus, and more especially Semiramis, had thrown the protection of their severe and pitiless laws. Here they lay hidden by day, advancing swiftly and silently under cover of night; and Ishtar could not withhold her admiration from the extraordinary skill and sagacity shown by these professional spoilers in concealing their encampment on their march. On such expeditions as the present, they were careful to ride their mares; for these animals, docile and gentle, either loose or picketed, never disclosed their presence by those paroxysms of neighing and screaming to which their less tractable brothers were exceedingly p.r.o.ne.
At length, soon after dawn, Ishtar found herself alone with the chief at an easy distance from the great city. Taking the a.s.s of a poor peasant, who dared not even protest against the spoliation, he had dismounted his guest from the high-bred mare, and placed her on the humbler animal's back. The troop had been left many a league in the desert. Their leader, at the utmost personal risk, was within a short ride of Babylon. It was time to depart, and thus he bade his charge farewell:
”May thy corn never fail nor thy well run dry! May thy vines yield a hundredfold, and men-children play round thy feet! Thou camest into my tent like the breeze from the mountain. Though the breeze pa.s.seth on, the tent is glad because of the coolness it hath left. The desert is boundless, and we scour it far and wide. Behold! Where rides a son of Anak, there hast thou a brother. I have spoken.”
He swung himself on the mare from which he had lately dismounted, caught Lotus-flower by the bridle, and sped away like the wind.