Marcus: the Young Centurion

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  A NARROW ESCAPE.

  To have the horses turned, and gallop back along the narrow river bedfor their lives, was Marcus' first thought. His second, braver andbetter, was to shout to the driver at his elbow to urge the horses on attheir greatest speed.

  The man hardly needed telling, for as the first words of command werebuzzing in his ear he was shaking the reins and calling upon the bravelittle beasts to exert themselves to the utmost.

  "Forward, my beauties," he yelled, "or the barbarians will have you, andbefore to-morrow you will be roasted and eaten. Gallop--gallop away!"

  There was no time for Serge to talk, but he acted, and acted well.Picking up instantly two of the spears which hung at the chariot side inloops, he thrust one into Marcus' hand, retained the other, and stoodready to thrust. Marcus followed his example. Neither thought of usingtheir shields, but stood fierce and staring of aspect, watching theparty of men barring their way and shouting to them to stop.

  It seemed like the next moment that the enemy, who fully expected thestrangers in the chariot to surrender, found that to give up was thelast thought in their expected prisoners' breasts, and thereupon somedropped their spears, others were in the act of turning to fly, whenwith a dull, strange sound the chariot horses were upon them. Literallyupon them, for the gallant little beasts obeyed their natural instinct,as they galloped and rose to leap the pale of human obstacles and spearsin front, but only to come down quite short, trampling and spurning downthe enemy, over whom the chariot rolled, bumping, leaping and splashing,and directly after, untouched by the long spears held by the uninjured,the driver turned the horses slightly, and their next bounds were upondry land, rough and rugged enough, but free from any great impediments.Then away and away as hard as they could go, while the more active ofthose who were not hurt, recovering themselves a little from the shockand scare, came after the charioteers in chase with levelled spears.

  "Splendid, Marcus, boy!" cried Serge. "Bah! You need not look back;they'll give up running directly. You did not think they would catch usup?"

  "No," replied Marcus, breathing hard, "but stop! Stop! Lupe isfighting with them, and they'll spear him if we don't go to his help."

  "Eh? Go back, boy? To certain death!" cried the old soldier, fiercely."It couldn't be done if it was to save the finest dog in the world."

  "Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus, wildly.

  "The message to Julius and your father, boy. We must not think ofeither ourselves or the dog at a time like this."

  "You are right, Serge," said Marcus, bitterly. "But poor old Lupe!" hecontinued, as he held on to the side of the chariot with his left handand gazed back. "He'll kill no more wolves when they come down from themountains over the wintry snow."

  "Why not?" growled Serge.

  "Because the enemy are spearing him."

  "I haven't heard him yelp," cried the old soldier, "but I can hearsomebody shouting as if Lupe was spearing him."

  "Do you think so?" cried Marcus.

  "Ay, that I do, boy. It wouldn't be an easy job to stick a long-handledspear into old Lupe when he is bounding about attacking legs, andwaiting his chance to tackle throats. Like as not we shall find himcoming after us, scratched and bleeding perhaps, but not hurt more thanI can doctor him and set him right again, same as I've done more thanonce when he has had a turn with the wolves."

  "Ah, look, look!" shouted Marcus, joyously. "Why, here he comes!"

  For all at once Lupe, who had been lost to sight, hidden as he was bythose of the enemy who had not taken up the pursuit, and who hadresented the dog's attacks by endeavouring to pin him to the earth withtheir long spears, now dashed into sight, proving that he was uninjuredby the bounds and springs he kept on making, barking furiously the whileat those who were keeping up their pursuit of the chariot, but whoseattention was now diverted so that they turned the points of theirspears to repulse the dog's attack.

  "Yah! Just like him!" cried Serge, angrily. "You ugly old idiot, you!Whether it's men or wolves, you always would have the last bite. Comeaway, stupid! Come here!" he roared again, quite oblivious of the factthat even if the distance had not prevented the dog from hearing, thenoise of the horses' beating hoofs would have effectually drownedSerge's voice.

  "Ought we not to stop and help him, Serge?" cried Marcus.

  "No, boy; you know we ought not. We've got to get on with that message,and we must think of nothing else now we are clear. We must not evenslacken while the path is so good; so keep on. You wanted a big gallop,so take it and be content, for the horses are going fast enough tosatisfy anyone."

  "Yes," sighed Marcus. "But poor old Lupe!"

  "He must take care of himself, boy," growled Serge. "Look at him,charging at the enemy as he is, when he is doing no good and running therisks for nothing."

  "He has stopped the pursuit," said Marcus.

  "Yes; but why can't he be content now he has done it, and come on,instead of asking them as plainly as a dog can speak, to thrust a spearthrough his ribs?"

  "But he knows no better," pleaded Marcus, who was watching all that wasgoing on, and feeling proud of the dog's bravery in charging the enemyfuriously from time to time, and escaping every thrust as if by amiracle. "I don't want to lose time, Serge," cried Marcus, raising hisvoice so that his companion could hear, "but I am going to check thehorses for a few moments so that I can shout to Lupe. If he hears myvoice calling him he will come."

  "He's coming without, boy," cried Serge, angrily. "Oh! Poor oldfellow! But it's his own fault. I knew he'd get it at last, and hehas. That thrust has been too much for him. Look!"

  Marcus was already looking sharply enough to have seen, at the samemoment as his companion, Lupe make a rush at the halting enemy, whosespears flashed in the bright light; and then the dog rushed away again,to stand apparently barking furiously at his enemies, before dashing offafter the chariot for about a hundred yards, and then stopping short toroll over and over.

  "Killed!" cried Marcus, in a voice full of anguish.

  "No," said Serge, hoarsely; "he's up again and tearing after us."

  But the next minute the dog had dropped again, and as far as those inthe chariot could make out in the increasing distance, was busilyengaged in licking his flank, and Marcus said so.

  "Not sure," cried Serge, "but I'm afraid he has got an ugly dig. Is hegoing to lie down and die?"

  "Surely not!" cried Marcus, excitedly. "No, he is up again, and here hecomes."

  "Then perhaps it is not so bad as I thought, boy. Yes, here he comes ashard as he can pelt. He can't be very bad, unless this is his laststruggle to get to your side."

  "And yours, Serge," said Marcus, mournfully.

  "No, boy; it's you that he wants to reach," said the old soldier, with agrim smile. "He likes me, but you need not talk--he loves you; and ifhe's very badly hurt he is putting all the strength he has left in himto get here to you."

  "Oh, Serge," cried Marcus, as the ponies tore on, with the dog in fullpursuit, "it can't be so bad as you think!"

  "Well, boy, I'm beginning to think you're right. He can't be so verybad, or he wouldn't be able to stretch himself out like that and comeover the ground faster than the horses are going, and that isn't slow.Look at the brave old fellow; that's just the stride he takes--"

  "Stride!" cried Marcus, proudly. "He's coming on in bounds."

  "So he is, boy, and as I was going to say, that's just his way when hewants to overtake a pack of ravaging wolves who have been after oursheep. Well done, dog! Talk about muscles in his legs! I don't callthem muscles; he has legs like springs."

  The chariot horses still tore on at a fast gallop, the sturdy littledriver guiding them with admirable skill as they neared obstructions;but fast as they swept over the open ground, with the heavy chariotleaping and bounding behind, their speed was far out-paced by the greatdog which stretched out like a greyhound of modern times, and lessenedthe distance between them mo
re and more, till he was so near that Marcusuttered a cry of horror upon making out as he did that the dog's flankwas marked by a great patch of blood.

  "Yes," said Serge, gravely, "I see, boy, and I could find it in my heartto stop the ponies and take him into the chariot; but there is no needfor it. Can't be a serious wound, and he'll be close up to us inanother minute."

  "To reach us exhausted," cried Marcus, bitterly; "and I shall alwaysfeel that we might have saved his life."

  Serge made no reply, but, frowning heavily, he watched the final effortsthe gallant animal was making. For gathering himself together for everyspring and putting all his strength in his efforts, Lupe bounded on tillhe was close behind the chariot, and Marcus uttered an encouraging shoutas he went down on one knee, while the next minute Lupe made atremendous spring, from which he landed in the middle of therapidly-going vehicle, and then couched down, bent his head over as helet himself fall over on his left side, and began licking his wound ascalmly as if nothing had happened more than the receiving of a bigscratch.

  "Why, Lupe, Lupe, old dog!" cried Marcus, as he knelt beside the woundedanimal hard at work over his natural surgery.

  Upon hearing the boy's voice the dog ceased his task, looked up inMarcus' face with his big intelligent eyes, beat the floor of thechariot a few times heavily with his tail, and then went on again withhis dressing of his wound.

  "There," cried Serge, after looking back at the distant Gauls, "they'renot likely to pursue us, so make him ease the ponies down a little. Wemust not wear them out at the start. That's better," he continued, asMarcus touched the driver on the shoulder and signed to him to moderatetheir speed.

  This done, Serge placed his spear in the loops and Marcus' beside it,before sinking down upon his knees on the other side of the wounded dog.

  "Now then," he said, "let's see whether it's very bad or not," and helaid his great hand upon the dog's head.

  Lupe ceased the licking upon the instant, and raised his head to gazeintelligently in the old soldier's eyes.

  "Good dog!" said the latter, speaking with gruff gentleness. "I won'thurt you more than I can help."

  As if he comprehended the old soldier's words and placed full confidencein his knowledge and power, Lupe stretched himself out fully upon hisleft side, extended his head, and, half closing his eyes, lay perfectlystill as if dead.

  "Poor old Lupe!" said Marcus, softly, and he took hold of the dog'sright forepaw, with the result that the poor animal winced, but onlywhined a little and did not try to withdraw his leg, but at the sametime began again to beat the floor of the chariot with his tail, keepingup the latter, as Serge carefully examined the injury.

  "Nasty place!" growled Serge.

  "Not dangerous?" cried Marcus, anxiously.

  "Dangerous? No, not it. He had got himself into the right positionwhen the spear thrust was made. It's bad enough, of course--"

  "Oh, Serge!" cried Marcus.

  "But there's no likelihood of its being dangerous. The spear caught himon the flank and went right in alongside his ribs, from the thick hairabove his shoulder right away to the front of his hind jumper."

  "Deep in the flesh, Serge?"

  "No, no; only just under the loose skin."

  "Has it bled much?" said Marcus, anxiously.

  "Plenty, my lad, but he won't die of it. Do you hear, Lupe, old boy?Your doctor says he is not going to do anything in the way of tying youup, for this is the sort of wound that has done bleeding and will healup without any more help than you can give it with your tongue; so go onand do what you like to it, just the same as you began when you werestopped."

  The dog ceased beating the floor of the chariot as Serge went on talkingto him, and as soon as the old soldier had given him a final pat or twohe resumed the application of Nature's remedy, paying no heed to thosein the chariot, which was now rolling steadily on and leaving the sceneof the late encounter farther and farther behind.