Because of the women and the children, we moved more slowly than
warriors do when on the march alone, when they seldom, if ever,
travel slower than a trot, and more generally, at a fast gallop. We
moved along a well-worn trail, passing several deserted villages,
from which the prey of the No-vans had fled. We crossed many rivers,
for the lunar world is well watered. We skirted several lakes, and at
one point of high ground, I saw, far at our left, the waters of what
appeared to be a great ocean.
There was never a time when Orthis and I were not plentifully
supplied with food, for there is an abundance of it growing
throughout all the territory we crossed, but the No-vans had been
without flesh for several days and were, in consequence, mad with
hunger, as the fruits and vegetables which they ate seemed not to
satisfy them at all.
We were moving along at a brisk trot when, without warning, we were
struck by a sudden gust of wind that swept, cold and refreshing, down
from some icy mountain fastness. The effect upon the No-vans was
electrical. I would not have had to understand their language to
realize that they were terrified. They looked apprehensively about
and increased their speed as though endeavoring to overtake Ga-va-go,
who was now far ahead with the point. A moment later a dash of rain
struck us, and then it was every man for himself and the devil take
the hindmost, as they broke into a wild stampede to place themselves
close to their chief. Their hysterical flight was like the terrorized
rush of wild cattle. They jostled and tripped one another, and
stumbled and fell and were trampled upon, in their haste to escape.
Old Ga-va-go had stopped with his point, and was waiting for us.
Those who accompanied him seemed equally terrified with the rest, but
evidently they did not dare run until Ga-va-go gave the word. I
think, however, that they all felt safer when they were close to him,
for they had a great deal of confidence in him, yet they were still
pretty badly frightened, and it would not have taken much to have set
them off again into another rout. Ga-va-go waited until the last of
the rearguard straggled in, and then he set off directly toward the
mountains, the entire tribe moving in a compact mass, though they
might have fallen easy prey to an ambush or any sudden attack. They
knew, however, what I half guessed, that knowing that their enemies
were as terrified of the storm as they, there was little danger of
their being attacked—none whatever, in fact.
We came at last to a hillside covered with great trees which offered
some protection from both the wind and the rain, which had now arisen
to the proportion of a hurricane.
As we came to a halt, I slipped from the back of the warrior who had
been carrying me, and found myself beside one of the women who had
taught Orthis and me the language of the Va-gas.
“Why is everyone so terrified?” I asked her.
“It is Zo-al,” she whispered, fearfully. “He is angry.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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