The creature was pacing to and fro, like a well-trained sentry, its
"round" being the curved crest of the sand-ridge, from which it did not
deviate to the licence of an inch. Backward and forward did it traverse
the saddle in a longitudinal direction--now poised upon the pommel, now
sinking downward into the seat, and then rising to the level of the
group, now turning in the opposite direction, and retracing in long
uncouth strides the path over which it appeared to have been passing
since the earliest hour of its existence!
Independent of the surprise which the presence of this animal had
created, there was something in its aspect calculated to cause terror.
Perhaps, had the mids known what kind of creature it was, or been in any
way apprised of its real character, they would have paid less regard to
its presence. Certainly not so much as they did: for instead of
advancing upon it, and making their way over the crest of the ridge,
they stopped in their track, and held a whispered consultation as to
what they should do.
It is not to be denied that the barrier before them presented a
formidable appearance. A brute, it appeared as big as a bull, for
magnified by the moonlight, and perhaps a little by the fears of those
who looked upon it, the quadruped was quite quadrupled in size.
Disputing their passage too; for its movements made it manifest that
such was its design. Backwards and forwards, up and down that curving
crest did it glide, with a nervous quickness that hindered any hope of
being able to rush past it, either before or behind, its own crest all
the while erected, like that of the dragon subdued by Saint George.
With all his English pluck, even stimulated by this resemblance to the
national knight, Harry Blount felt shy to approach that creature that
challenged the passage of himself and his companions.
Had there been no danger _en arriere_, perhaps our adventurers would
have turned back into the valley, and left the ugly quadruped master of
the pass.
As it was, a different resolve was arrived at, necessity being the
dictator.
The three midshipmen, drawing their dirks, advanced, in line of battle,
up the slope. The devil himself could scarce withstand such an assault.
England, Scotland, Ireland, abreast, _tres juncti in uno_, united in
thought, aim and action, was there aught upon earth, biped, quadruped,
or _mille-pied_, that must not yield to the charge?
If there was, it was not that animal oscillating along the saddle of
sand, progressing from pommel to cantel, like the pendulum of a clock.
Whether natural or supernatural, long before our adventurers got near
enough to decide, the creature, to use a phrase of very modern mention,
"skedaddled", leaving them free, so far as it was concerned, to continue
their retreat unmolested.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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