Wood Magic: A Fable
straight to the field of battle, and to encounter a solid phalanx of the
best troops in the world, elated with victory, and led by a general like
Ah Kurroo, and inspired, too, by the presence of their king, while his
own army was dispirited at this unwonted reverse, would be courting
defeat. He resolved to march at once, but to make a wide detour, and so
to fall upon the rooks in their rear while they were pursuing Tu Kiu.
The signal was given, and the vast host set out.
Thus the two generals, striving to outwit each other, suddenly found
themselves coming into direct collision. While fancying that they had
arranged to avoid each other, they came, as it were, face to face, and
so near, that Choo Hoo, flying at the head of his army, easily
distinguished King Kapchack and the Khan. It seemed now inevitable that
sheer force must decide between them.
But Choo Hoo, the born soldier, no sooner cast his keen glance over the
fields which still intervened, than he detected a fatal defect in
Kapchack's position. The rooks, not expecting attack, were advancing in
a long dense column, parallel with, and close to, a rising ground, all
along the summit of which stood a row of fine beech-trees. Quick as
thought, Choo Hoo commanded his centre to slacken their speed while
facing across the line the rooks were pursuing. At the same time he sent
for his left to come up at the double in extended order, so as to
outflank Ah Kurroo's column, and then to push it, before it could
deploy, bodily, and by mere force of numbers, against the beeches, where
their wings entangled and their ranks broken by the boughs they must
become confused. Then his right, coming up swiftly, would pass over, and
sweep the Khan's disordered army before it.
This manoeuvre, so well-conceived, was at once begun. The barbarian
centre slackened over the hill, and their left, rushing forward,
enclosed Ah Kurroo's column, and already bore down towards it, while the
noise of their right could be heard advancing towards the beeches above,
and on the other side of which it would pass. Ah Kurroo saw his
danger--he could discover no possible escape from the trap in which he
was caught, except in the desperate valour of his warriors. He shouted
to them to increase their speed, and slightly swerving to his right,
directed his course straight towards Choo Hoo himself. Seeing his
design--to bear down the rebel emperor, or destroy him before the battle
could well begin--Kapchack shouted with joy, and hurried forward to be
the first to assail his rival.
Already the advancing hosts seemed to feel the shock of the combat, when
a shadow fell upon them, and they observed the eclipse of the sun. Till
that moment, absorbed in the terrible work they were about, neither the
rank and file nor the leaders had noticed the gradual progress of the
dark semicircle over the sun's disk. The ominous shadow fell upon them,
still more awful from its suddenness. A great horror seized the serried
hosts. The prodigy in the heavens struck the conscience of each
individual; with one consent they hesitated to engage in carnage with so
terrible a sign above them.
In the silence of the pause they heard the pheasants crow, and the fowls
fly up to roost; the lesser birds hastened to the thickets. A strange
dulness stole over their senses, they drooped, as it were; the
barbarians sank to the lower atmosphere; the rooks, likewise overcome
with this mysterious lassitude, ceased to keep their regular ranks, and
some even settled on the beeches.
Choo Hoo himself struggled in vain against the omen; his mighty mind
refused to succumb to an accident like this; but his host was not so
bold of thought. With desperate efforts he managed indeed to shake off
the physical torpor which endeavoured to master him; he shouted
"Koos-takke!" but for the first time there was no response. The
barbarians, superstitious as they were ignorant, fell back, and lost
that unity of purpose which is the soul of an army. The very
superstition and fanaticism which had been his strength was now Choo
Hoo's weakness. His host visibly melted before his eyes; the vast mass
dissolved; the ranks became mixed together, without order or cohesion.
Rage overpowered him; he stormed; he raved till his voice from the
strain became inaudible. The barbarians were cowed, and did not heed
him.
The rooks, less superstitious, because more civilised, could not,
nevertheless, view the appearance of the sun without dismay, but as
their elders were accustomed to watch the sky, and to deduce from its
aspect the proper time for nesting, they were not so over-mastered with
terror as the enemy; but they were equally subjected by the mysterious
desire of rest which seized upon them. They could not advance; they
could scarce float in the air; some, as already observed, sought the
branches of the beeches. Ah Kurroo, however, bearing up as well as he
could against this strange languor, flew to and fro along the disordered
ranks, begging them to stand firm, and at least close up if they could
not advance, assuring them that the shadow would shortly pass, and that
if they could only retain their ranks victory was certain, for the
barbarians were utterly demoralised.
The drowsy rooks mechanically obeyed his orders, they closed their ranks
as well as they could; they even feebly cheered him. But more than this
they could not do. Above them the sun was blotted out, all but a rim of
effulgent light, from which shone forth terrible and threatening flames.
Some whispered that they saw the stars. Suddenly while they gazed,
oppressed with awe, the woods rang with a loud cry, uttered by Kapchack.
The king, excited beyond measure, easily withstood the slumberous
heaviness which the rest could scarce sustain. He watched the efforts of
the Khan with increasing impatience and anger. Then seeing that although
the army closed up it did not move, he lost all control of himself. He
shouted his defiance of the rebels before him, and rushed alone--without
one single attendant--across the field towards Choo Hoo. In amazement at
his temerity, the rooks watched him as if paralysed for a moment. Choo
Hoo himself could scarce face such supernatural courage; when suddenly
the rooks, as if moved by one impulse, advanced. The clangour of their
wings resounded, a hoarse shout arose from their throats, they strained
every nerve to overtake and assist their king.
Kapchack, wild with desperate courage, was within twenty yards of Choo
Hoo, when the dense column of his own army passed him and crushed into
the demoralised multitude of the enemy, as a tree overthrown by the
wind crushes the bushes beneath it. Kapchack himself whirled round and
round, and borne he knew not whither, scarce recognised whom he struck,
but wreaked his vengeance till his sinews failed him, and he was forced
to hold from sheer weariness. It is not possible to describe the scene
that now took place. The whole plain, the woods, the fields, were hidden
with the hurrying mass of the fugitives, above and mixed with whom the
black and terrible legions dealt destruction.
Widening out as it fled, the host of Choo Hoo was soon scattered over
miles of country. None stayed to aid another; none even asked the other
the best route to a place of safety; all was haste and horror. The
pursuit, indeed, only ended with evening; for seven long hours the
victors sated their thirst for slaughter, and would hardly have stayed
even then had not the disjointed and weary fragments of Choo Hoo's army
found some refuge now in a forest.
Choo Hoo himself only escaped from the ruck by his extraordinary
personal strength; once free from the confused mass, his speed, in which
he surpassed all the barbarians, enabled him to easily avoid capture.
But as he flew his heart was dead within him, for there was no hope of
retrieving this overwhelming disaster.
Meantime King Kapchack, when compelled by sheer physical weariness to
fall out from the pursuit, came down and rested upon an oak. While he
sat there alone and felt his strength returning, the sun began to come
forth again from the shadow, and to light up the land with renewed
brilliance. His attendants, who had now discovered his whereabouts,
crowding round him with their congratulations, seized upon this
circumstance as a fortunate omen. The dark shadow, they said, was past;
like the sun, Kapchack had emerged to shine brighter than before. For
once, indeed, the voice of flattery could not over-estimate the
magnitude of this glorious victory.
It utterly destroyed the invading host, which for years had worked its
way slowly into the land. It destroyed the prestige of Choo Hoo; never
again would his race regard him as their invincible chief. It raised the
reputation of King Kapchack to the skies. It crushed all domestic
treason with one blow. If Kapchack was king before, now he was
absolutely autocratic.
Where now was Ki Ki, the vainglorious hawk who had deemed that without
his aid nothing could be accomplished? Where the villainous crow, the
sombre and dark designing Kauc, whose murderous poniard would be thrust
into his own breast with envy? Where the cunning weasel, whose intrigues
were swept away like spiders' webs? Where were they all? They were
utterly at Kapchack's mercy. Mercy indeed! at his _mercy_--their instant
execution was already certain. His body-guard, crowding about him,
already began the paean.
He set out to return to his palace, flushed with a victory of which
history furnishes no parallel. It would have been well if he had
continued in this intention to at once return, summon his council, and
proclaim the traitors. Had he gone direct thither he must have met Eric,
the missel-thrush, who alone was permitted to frequent the orchard.
Eric, alarmed at seeing a stranger in the orchard, and at the
unprecedented circumstance of his ascending the ladder into the
apple-tree, had started away to find the king, and warn him that
something unusual was happening, and not to return till the coast was
clear. He had not yet heard of the battle, or rather double battle that
morning, nor did he know which way Kapchack had gone, but he considered
that most probably the woodpecker could tell him, and therefore flew
direct towards the copse to inquire.
If Kapchack had continued his flight straight to his palace he would
have passed over the copse, and the missel-thrush would have seen him
and delivered his message. But as he drew near home Kapchack saw the
clump of trees which belonged to Ki Ki not far distant upon his right.
The fell desire of vengeance seized upon him; he turned aside, intending
to kill Ki Ki with his own beak, but upon approaching nearer he saw that
the trees were vacant. Ki Ki, indeed, had had notice of the victory from
his retainers soaring in the air, and guessing that the king's first
step would be to destroy him, had instantly fled. Kapchack, seeing that
the hawk was not there, again pursued his return journey, but meantime
the missel-thrush had passed him.
The king was now within a few hundred yards of his fortress, the dome of
his palace was already visible, and the voices of his attendants rose
higher and higher in their strain of victory. The missel-thrush had seen
the woodpecker, who informed him that Kapchack had just passed, and like
the wind he rushed back to the orchard. But all the speed of his wings
was in vain, he could not quite overtake the monarch; he shouted, he
shrieked, but the song of triumph drowned his cries. Kapchack was close
to the wall of the orchard.
At the same time Bevis, not caring much about the locket or the letter,
or the old gentleman (whose history he had not yet heard), while his
papa spoke to, and aroused the old gentleman from his swoon, had slipped