The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
toward him and cried:
"Come, Zbyszku! Come!" How could he refuse?
He was not sleeping, but he saw her as distinctly as in a dream. There
she was, riding beside the princess, thrumming on her little lute,
humming and thinking of him. Thinking that she would soon see him, and
perhaps looking back.
Hero Zbyszko aroused himself and listened, because he heard a rustling
behind him. Then he grasped the fork in his hand more tightly, stretched
his neck and listened again.
The rustling approached and then it became very distinct. Under some
careful foot, the dried branches were crackling, the fallen leaves were
rustling. Something was coming.
From time to time the rustling ceased, as if the beast halted beneath the
trees; then there was such quietude that Zbyszko's ears began to ring;
then again slow, careful steps were heard. That approach was so cautious
that Zbyszko was surprised.
"I am sure 'the old'[80] must be afraid of the dogs which were here in
the shed," said he to himself; "but it may be a wolf that has scented
me."
Now the footsteps were no longer heard. Zbyszko, however, was sure that
something had stopped twenty or thirty feet behind him.
He turned around once or twice; but although he could see the trunks of
the trees quite well, he could not perceive anything else. He was obliged
to wait.
He waited so long, that he was surprised a second time.
"A bear would not come here to stop under the _barcie_; and a wolf would
not wait until morning."
Suddenly a shiver ran through his body as he thought:
"Suppose it is something dreadful that comes from the marshes and is
trying to surprise me from the rear! Suppose the slippery arms of a
drowned man seize me, or the green eyes of a ghost look into my face;
suppose a blue head on spider's legs comes out from behind the tree and
begins to laugh!"
He felt his hair begin to rise under his iron bonnet.
But after a while, a rustling sounded in front of him, more distinct this
time than formerly. Zbyszko breathed more freely; he thought that the
same "wonder" had gone around him, and now approached from the front; but
he preferred that. He seized his fork firmly, arose quietly and waited.
Now he noticed over his head the rustling of the pine trees, and he felt
the wind blow in his face, coming from the marsh, and he smelt the bear.
There was not the slightest doubt that a _mys_[81] was coming!
Zbyszko was afraid no longer, and having bent his head, he strained to
the utmost his hearing and his sight. Heavy, distinct steps were coming;
the smell grew stronger; soon the snore and groaning were heard.
"I hope there are not two of them!" thought Zbyszko.
But at that moment, he perceived in front of him the large, dark form of
the animal, which was walking in the same direction from which the wind
was blowing, and could not get the scent of him; its attention was also
attracted by the smell of the honey on the trees.
"Come, uncle!" exclaimed Zbyszko, coming out from beneath the pine tree.
The bear roared shortly as if frightened by an unexpected apparition; but
he was too near to seek safety in flight; therefore, in a moment he
reared and separated his forelegs as if for a hug. This was exactly what
Zbyszko was waiting for; he gathered himself together, jumped like
lightning and with all the strength of his powerful arms and of his
weight, he drove the fork into the animal's chest.
The whole forest resounded now with the fearful roaring. The bear seized
the fork with his paws, and tried to pull it out, but the incisions made
by the points were too deep; therefore, feeling the pain, he roared still
more fearfully. Wishing to reach Zbyszko, he leaned on the fork and thus
drove it into his body still further. Zbyszko, not knowing that the
points had entered so deeply, held on to the handle. The man and the
animal began to struggle. The forest again resounded with the roaring in
which wrath and despair were mingled.
Zbyszko could not use his axe until after he could drive the sharpened
end of the fork into the ground. The bear having seized the handle, was
shaking it as well as Zbyszko, and notwithstanding the pain caused by
every movement of the points imbedded in his breast, he would not let it
be "underpropped." In this way the terrible struggle continued, and
Zbyszko finally felt that his strength would soon be exhausted. If he
fell, then he would be lost; therefore, he gathered all his strength,
strained his arms to the utmost, set his feet firmly and bent his back
like a bow, so as not to be thrown backward; and in his enthusiasm he
repeated through set teeth:
"You or I will die!"
Such anger filled him that he really preferred at that moment to die,
rather than to let the beast go. Finally his foot caught in the root of a
tree; he tottered and would have fallen, if at that moment a dark figure
had not appeared before him, and another fork "underpropped" the beast;
and in the meanwhile, a voice shouted near his ear:
"Use your axe!"
Zbyszko, being excited by the fight, did not wonder even for a moment
from whence came the unexpected help; but he seized the axe and cut with
all his might. The fork cracked, broken by the weight and by the last
convulsion of the beast, as it fell. There was a long silence broken only
by Zbyszko's loud respirations. But after a while, he lifted his head,
looked at the form standing beside him and was afraid, thinking that it
might not be a man.
"Who are you?" asked he, with uneasiness.
"Jagienka!" answered a thin, womanly voice.
Zbyszko became dumb from astonishment; he could not believe his own eyes.
But his doubts did not last long, because Jagienka's voice again
resounded:
"I will build a fire."
Immediately the clatter of a fire steel against a flint sounded and the
sparks began to fall; by their glittering light, Zbyszko beheld the white
forehead, the dark eyebrows and the red lips of the girl who was blowing
on the tinder which began to burn. Not until then did he realize that she
had come to the forest to help him, and that without her aid, he would
have perished. He felt such gratitude toward her, that he impulsively
seized her around the waist and kissed her on both cheeks.
The tinder and the steel fell to the ground.
"Let me be!" she began to repeat in a muffled voice; but she allowed him
to kiss her and even, as if by accident, touched Zbyszko's lips with her
mouth. He released her and said:
"May God reward you. I do not know what would have happened without your
help."
Then Jagienka, while searching for the tinder and fire steel, began to
excuse herself:
"I was worried about you, because Bezduch also went with a fork and an
axe, but the bear tore him to pieces. If you met with such a misfortune,
Macko would be very desolate, and he hardly breathes now. So I took a
fork and came."
"Then it was you whom I heard there behind the pines?"
"Yes."
"And I thought it was an evil spirit."
"I was very much frightened, because it is dangerous to be without fire
here around the Radzikowski marshes."
"Then why did you not speak to me?"
"Because I was afraid you would send me away."
Having said this, she again began to strike sparks from the steel, and
put on the tinder a bundle of hemp which began to burn.
"I have two resinous pieces of wood," said she; "you bring some dried
branches quickly, and we will soon have a fire."
In fact, after a while a bright fire was burning, and lighted the
enormous, brown body of the bear which was lying in a pool of blood.
"Hej, a dreadful beast!" said Zbyszko, boastfully.
"You split his head entirely open! O, Jesus!"
Then she leaned over and felt of the bear's body, to ascertain whether
the beast was fat; then she arose with a bright face, and said:
"There will be plenty of grease for two years."
"But the fork is broken, look!"
"That is too bad; what shall I tell them at home?"
"About what?"
"_Tatus_ would not let me come into the forest, therefore I was obliged
to wait until everybody had retired."
After a moment she added:
"You must not tell that I was here, because they will laugh at me."
"But I will go with you to your house, because I am afraid the wolves
will attack you, and you have no fork."
"Very well!"
Thus they sat talking for a while beside the bright fire, looking like
two young forest creatures.
Zbyszko looked at the girl's pretty face, lighted by the flames, and said
with involuntary admiration:
"There is not another girl in this world as brave as you are. You ought
to go to the war!"
She looked into his face and then she answered, almost sadly:
"I know; but you must not laugh at me."
CHAPTER VI.
Jagienka herself melted a large pot of bear's grease. Macko drank the
first quart willingly, because it was fresh, and smelt good. Jagienka put
the rest of it in a pot. Macko's hope increased; he was sure he would be
cured.
"That is what I needed," said he. "When all parts inside of me become
greasy, then that dog's splinter will slip out."
But the next quarts did not taste as well as the first; but he continued
to drink it and Jagienka encouraged him, saying:
"You will get well. Zbilud of Ostrog had the links of a coat of mail
driven into his neck; but they slipped out because he drank grease. But
when your wound opens, you must put some grease of a beaver on it."
"Have you some?"
"Yes, we have. But if it be necessary to have it fresh, we will go with
Zbyszko and get a beaver. Meanwhile it would not do any harm, if you
promised something to some saint, who is the patron for wounds."
"I was thinking about that, but I do not know to whom I should make the
promise. Saint George is the patron of knights; he protects the warrior
from any accident and always gives him victory, and it is said that
sometimes he fights personally for the one who is right. But a saint who
fights willingly, does not heal willingly; and for that, there must be
another saint with whom he would not want to interfere. It is known that
every saint has his specialty. But they will not interfere with one
another; because that would cause quarrels, and it is not proper to fight
in heaven. There are Kosma and Damian to whom all doctors pray, that
illness may exist; otherwise the doctors would not have anything to eat.
There is Saint Apolonia for the teeth and Saint Liborius for stone; but
they will not do for me. The abbot, when he comes, will tell me whom I
must ask. Every _clericus_ does not know all celestial secrets and
everyone of them is not familiar with such things, but the abbot is."
"Suppose you make a vow to the Lord Jesus himself?"
"Of course he is over all of them. But suppose your father had injured my
servant, and I went to Krakow to complain to the king; what would the
king tell me? He would say thus: 'I am monarch over all the country, and
you complain to me about one of your peasants! Do you not have my
officials in your part of the country; why did you not go to the
castellan?' So the Lord Jesus is the ruler over the whole universe; but
for smaller affairs, he employs the saints."
"Then I will tell you what to do," said Zbyszko, who entered just now;
"make a vow to our late queen, that if she intercede for you, you will
make a pilgrimage to Krakow. Why should you search after strange saints,
when we have our own lady, who is better than they?"
"Bah! if I only knew that she would intercede for wounds!"
"No matter! There is no saint who would dare to show her an angry face;
or if he dared, Lord God would punish him for it, because she was not an
ordinary woman, but a Polish queen."
"Who converted the last heathen country to the Christian faith! That is
right," said Macko. "She must have a high place in God's council and