Marcus: the Young Centurion Part 33

"It's the reason why we with the horses are not pushed on. That's what I was afraid of."

"Afraid?"

"There, don't take a man up short that way," growled Serge. "I didn't mean afraid; I meant expected. The enemy have attacked our men right up yonder in the front, and they've got us between them. Well, all the better. Something for us to do, and keep us warm."

"But I was hoping that we might be pushed on now."

"So was I, boy, but it won't be yet," growled Serge. "I say, don't let your mouth get watering for the new bread and warm milk just yet."

"No," groaned Marcus, rather piteously.

"But it will be all the nicer and sweeter when it comes, boy. I say, there was only one thing that could possibly have happened to make us worse off."

"What, having to fight in this snow, Serge?"

"Nay, that would have warmed us, lad. I meant, come on to snow."

"Snow at this time of year?" cried Marcus.

"It snows up in the mountains at all times of the year, boy," growled Serge. "Down below in the plains it only rains, but up here it snows; and here it comes, and someone else too. I expect things are going wrong in the rear, or else he has heard the attack in front, and has come to see."

For a blinding and dense squall of snow came raging through the pa.s.s, leaving hors.e.m.e.n and chariots as white as their chief, whose horse came churning its way through the hail-like coating that stood half way up the wheels, close to which its rider reined in.

"Find it cold, my lads?" he cried cheerily, and was answered by a chorus of a.s.sent.

"Well, I've brought you up news to warm you. The men below are holding the enemy in check, and they have begun to retire, which means to support us and drive those back who are trying to stop us at the head of the pa.s.s. Make ready. Ah, my boy, you there? Well, are you tired of seeking your father?"

Marcus shook his head.

"Well," said the captain, "tired or not there is no going back, for you could not cut through two or three thousand of the enemy alone. There, we shall soon be through this frozen pa.s.s, and making our way down into the sunny plains. Winter now, and summer this time to-morrow. Ready there, advance!"

As their chief spoke loudly, Marcus caught sight through the haze of snow which seemed to hold the darkness of night above, the head of a column of the foot soldiers making a steady advance, looking as if they were wearing a fresh form of decoration, every man's helmet plume being increased in size by a tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of the purest, whitest swans-down or filmy, flocculent silver itself.

But there was no time for studying appearances; all now was stern, earnest work. At the first order given by the chief, Lupe seemed to take it that he was concerned, and set up a hoa.r.s.e barking, which seemed to animate the chariot horses, notably his friends attached to Marcus'

chariot, which began to stamp and paw up the snow beneath their feet, while when their driver took his place by their heads they plunged forward, tugging the heavy vehicle out of the ruts into which the wheels had cut for themselves. Then with the snow squall driving on before them leaving the trampled snow ahead freshly smoothed, and lighting the darkness of the night, there was a dull, grinding, creaking sound of wheels and yielding snow as it was trampled down into a better road, and good progress was made, for the slope in advance was more gradual, and the hollows and pitfalls between the rugged stones that strewed the way were levelled down.

It was a strange and weird procession, as Marcus tramped on step by step with Serge, behind the chariot, into which Lupe had suddenly leaped to stand with his paws planted upon the front of the vehicle, which now looked as if it had been turned into silver. And there were moments when the boy felt that it must all be part of a dream.

But there was nothing dream-like in the sounds that came downward between the great snowy walls, for they were those of desperate fighting--the shouts of defiance of the Roman soldiers mingled with the barbarous cries of the Gauls, who had gathered together again in the great gateway from which they had been driven by the troops of Caius Julius, and were now striving to prevent the descent of the Roman rear-guard into their fruitful plains, and if possible entrap these new troops between their own forces, which were holding them shut in the deep, long, wintry gorge.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A GOOD COMPANION.

It was a curious sound, that made by the snow which lay so thickly beneath sandal, hoof and wheel. As it was pressed together it literally squeaked as if it possessed feeling and remonstrated at being crushed down from light feathery snow into solid ice.

The sounds it gave forth were at times quite loud, and were repeated back from the towering rocks on either side. Farther on it would be a soft crunch, crunch, mingled with the b.u.mping of wheels and the plunging of a horse as it struggled to drag its hoofs out of some depression into which they had sunk, while, animated by the presence of their leader, the hors.e.m.e.n cheered on the animals they led, and the charioteers helped their pairs to drag the heavy cars over the snow-covered track.

The pa.s.s grew more and more like some huge rift in the mountain which seemed to have been split open by lightning, whose form the deep way had in some degree a.s.sumed.

For a few hundred yards the train would be going straight, till an acute angle was reached, when for a distance the line would be forced to almost double back to another point and double back again. It was a savage kind of zig-zag which always led higher and higher, while as they neared the top, the snow grew deeper and the walls on either side closer, while these were not only perpendicular but in many cases actually overhanging.

The horses' hoofs and the chariot wheels at last sank in so far, in spite of their being unburdened, that the leader commanded a halt for rest, and as this order was obeyed, Marcus, from where he stood panting, with one hand that had been used to push forward the chariot resting now upon its back, felt awe-stricken at the strange silence that for a moment or two dwelt deep down in the jagged furrow, before it was broken by the peculiar panting of exhausted men and steeds who were striving to regain their wind, while a mist formed by the breath rendered everything indistinct along the line, as it rose visibly on high.

For plainly now from the front came the sound of contending warriors, apparently close at hand, though far enough away as yet, but increased in power by being condensed into a narrow s.p.a.ce, as it reverberated along the pa.s.s from wall to wall.

But not alone from the front; fainter, but minute by minute gathering strength, similar sounds came from the rear, telling plainly enough of the fight that was going on where the foot-men were holding back the advancing enemy during a steady retiring movement that could hardly be called a retreat.

"I don't like this, boy," whispered Serge, who was resting against the other side of the chariot.

"Are we being beaten, Serge?" asked Marcus.

"Oh, no, boy; they can't beat us. But they have got us in this narrow gully where only a few men back and front can fight at once. Why, you know for yourself here are all our mounted troops and us with the chariots doing nothing but struggle through the snow, and never getting a spear thrust at anyone. That's why I say I don't like it. I want to be doing something, and when I say that it's just what everyone feels as it makes his blood hot. I say, boy, you don't feel cold now?"

"Cold?" cried Marcus. "Oh, no; I only want to keep going on."

"Wait a bit, boy, and you shall have enough of that. Our captain isn't letting us rest just to amuse ourselves. It will be forward directly, and quite soon enough for the horses, for it's hard work for them; and I say," continued the old soldier, jocosely, "this is a bit of a change for you, my boy. You never thought there was a place like this so near to Rome, where the people are lying grumbling now because it is so hot that they cannot sleep, and panting just like old Lupe there."

For the dog was just between them, sitting up in the back of the car, sometimes turning his head towards one, sometimes towards the other, lolling out his vibrating tongue and sending out puffs of visible vapour-like steam from Vesuvius.

"He's making believe that he's been working very hard," said Marcus, laughing, "when he's been riding all the time. But all this does seem very strange, Serge. I couldn't have believed this was possible at the end of summer."

"Suppose not," growled the old soldier. "You see, you don't know everything yet, my boy. There's a deal to learn, as I found out years ago when I first went to the war with the master. But it's all doing you good, and you will like it by-and-by when you look back and think of it all, for there isn't much time to think just now. I say, have you got your wind again?"

"Oh, yes, I am ready, and the horses are beginning to leave off panting.

I shall be glad when we make a fresh start. I want to get to the top."

"That's what we all want, boy--to get to the top of everything--but the sooner we get to the end of this narrow crack and can expect that it will begin to open out and give us room to swing our arms, the better we shall all like it. The chief ought to be thinking of starting up afresh, for there's a deal of fighting going on back and front."

The sounds that came floating to their ears, echoed from the snowy walls, made this all plain enough, while the shouting from the rear grew nearer and nearer; and then it seemed that the rear-guard was coming more rapidly on, just as the order to move forward came from the front and pa.s.sed along the line.

With a couple of halts for rest the troops plodded on and the horses struggled for another hour, and then, to the great delight of all, the word came back from the front that the height of the pa.s.s had been reached, that the head of the column was beginning to descend, and that not far in front their comrades were holding the enemy in check.

This intelligence was like an invigorating breath of air to the little force. The men stepped out and dragged and pushed, and the cries of the drivers had a cheering sound, as they called upon their horses in a tone of voice which made the struggling beasts exert themselves more than ever.

It was still terribly hard work, but there was no upward drag; the great strain was gone, for the descent was steep, and a great portion of the weight the chariot horses had to draw seemed to have been taken off.

The pa.s.s was still walled in by towering heights, but it was rapidly opening out, and at the end of another hour the advance force, which had contented themselves with holding one of the narrowest portions of the way, had been strengthened, and pressed back the enemy.

There was another halt of the chariots, to enable a portion of the troops from the rear to close up and pa.s.s through to the front to join the advance, a manoeuvre which the panting men, as they struggled over the beaten snow, obeyed with alacrity, eager to get into action and bring to an end the hours of suspense through which they had pa.s.sed in comparative inaction while listening to the echoes of the fighting going on in front and rear.

"There, boy," said Serge, cheerfully, as they found time now to talk as well as rest; "this don't look like being beaten, does it?"

"I don't know," said Marcus, dubiously. "We seem as much shut up as ever."

"Nay, not us! Why, the walls are ever so much farther back, and we have got more room to breathe."