The Day of Resis

The island on which they now were was very small, not being more than one half mile in circumference. In fact it was a mere dot on the surface of this vast inland lake, but it was of considerable importance, nevertheless, for here the King made periodical excursions, and often took up his residence for weeks at a time in its charming villa. From the shore on which the party landed, the island rose gently to the centre, and on this slight eminence stood the villa. On the opposite side the shores were precipitous, rising in a cliff about fifty feet high. Bordering this cliff had been built a low, onyx wall and the intervening space between this and the villa had been laid out in a magnificent garden, filled with the redolent flowers so numerous in this country.

It was this delightful spot, shaded by immense palms and eucalyptus trees, which so pleased the King and which brought him here so frequently. From this garden could be seen the cliffs far away to the south and east and the fertile country lying between, and on the opposite side of the lake spreading on and on until merged into the blue horizon. Even from the broad dining hall, in which the party were now sitting, could be caught glimpses of the city as it lay bathed in the bright moonlight far away, and occasionally dim lights could be seen which shone from the open villa of the pink-white city.

“Look,” said Enola. “Is the scene not grand?”

“Yes,” said Harry, “the most exquisite picture I ever looked upon.”

“It is because of this natural picturesqueness that I visit this island so frequently,” said Onrai. “To me it has no equal, and I can conceive of nothing more beautiful.”

“No,” said Enola, “nothing could be more beautiful, for here we have every element which goes to make up a grand landscape; the distant city standing on the gentle slope of the foothills, the towering cliffs beyond, their jagged rocks softened by the moonlight; the broad fields, the noble forests, and about us the blue waters of the lake.”

“Truly a good country to live in,” said Mr. Bruce.

“Yes, a fair country, with which God has dealt most kindly,” said Mr. Graham.

The party arose and through the broad halls and lofty entrance they went into the garden; across this and near to the stone wall reclining seats had been placed for them. The scene which now met their gaze was ineffably grand. The lake lay before them like a sea of liquid silver the surface scarcely ruffled by the soft evening breeze; beyond, the shore of the mainland with its flickering lights, dimmed by the bright rays of the moon, and beyond these the magnificent panorama already described. The party sat for a long time lost in contemplation of the magnificent scenery.

“Look,” said Enola, “a boat.”

“No, Enola, not a boat,” said Onrai, “for it means death to any who may venture on the lake at night.”

“It may mean death, Onrai, but nevertheless some one of your countrymen has undertaken the hazardous journey to-night, for see, the lights in the bow shine brightly,” replied Enola.

Onrai had arisen as Enola had spoken, and stepping to the wall looked long at the black object coming toward them, then resuming his seat, he said:

“No, it is one of the monsters; those lights are its fiery eyes.”

A shudder ran through the frames of all present excepting Onrai, who had long since become accustomed to look upon these fearful sea serpents. On the black mass came, growing larger and larger as it neared them. Remembrances of the fearful race with and escape from the monster in the cavern came to the minds of those who had participated in this dreadful scene, and Mrs. Graham arising, said:

“Onrai, you will pardon, I hope, a woman’s faintheartedness, but I cannot look upon the scenes which we have been told by you will shortly take place near us; so with your kind permission I will retire to my apartment.”

“You have my permission most assuredly, Mrs. Graham, and it grieves me to think that I have been the cause of this disturbance of mind. When these monsters come together the battle will be fearful, and if the other ladies feel that they cannot witness it, it would be better for them to retire also, for see! other monsters are now coming, and the fight will soon commence.”

At this Nellie arose and together with her mother they entered the villa.

As Onrai had said, other black masses were now seen and the glow of red eyes shone through the semi-darkness from all directions. On came their bodies growing larger as they came nearer. Now the foremost had reached the base of the cliff and raising its huge body half out of the water, threw its ugly head back and fastened its glittering eyes on those who were watching its movements from above. The moon shone full on its long, dragon-like body and the party shuddered with horror as they recognized in it the exact counterpart of the sea-monster of the cave. After gazing on those above it for a full minute, and then realizing probably that they were out of its reach, the monster became enraged and, throwing itself back into the water beat the surface with its wing-like fins and long tail until almost lost to view in the foam thus created. But others had now come close to the rock, and as the number increased the water was blackened by their dark bodies. It was a mass of writhing, horror-depicting sea reptiles, and as they wound in and out under and over each other, their eyes glowing the while, it was enough to make the stoutest heart grow faint.

Suddenly one of them, which had been crowded close to the rocks by the great number from behind, and finding it impossible to extricate itself in any other way, dove, and piercing the body of the one next to it, held it half out of water, pinioned on its formidable horn.

“Ah, the battle has commenced,” said Onrai.

“It is fearful,” again said Enola.

“Horrible but fascinating,” said Mr. Bruce.

“This is but the beginning,” said Onrai. “In a few moments the whole seething mass will be engaged in one grand battle royal. If, Enola, you think you cannot look on this hideous spectacle, it would be better for you to retire now.”

“No,” said Enola, “I wish to see it all.”

They again turned their attention to the monsters. When the beast had been pierced by the horn of its companion, it had given out a fearful groan like that of a dying man. This seemed to be a signal, for immediately the beast began to beat the water with fins and tail, until the spray was forced upward almost splashing our friends. In fact the lake looked as if it had been struck by a hurricane so turbulent had the waters become. All this commotion was but preliminary, however, for it soon ceased, and all was perfectly quiet for a moment, when, as if moved by a common impulse the battle commenced in earnest.

Each had, seemingly, during the short interval of rest, selected its prey or opponent, for as far as could be seen the fight was a succession of duels, not more than two being engaged at once in tearing each other to pieces. Fastening their fiery eyes on each other they would retreat for a short distance, and then, with heads thrown back and their enormous jaws opened, would make a rush for each other, coming together with sickening force, their huge jaws crunching into each other’s bodies, or, perhaps fastening jaw into jaw. Then they would writhe and squirm, beating each other with their fins and tails. Upon becoming exhausted, if one or the other had not been overcome with the struggle they would disengage themselves, and retreating, rest for a moment and then make another rush for each other. Now they would dive, ripping each other with their murderous tusks, frequently both being beneath the surface, but the agitation of the water telling that the fearful battle was being continued far beneath.

Again they would rise to the surface, their bodies torn and lacerated, and blood from the gaping wounds dyeing the water a crimson red. One would finally succumb and the survivors, after giving their fallen antagonists a parting thrust, would swim away until outside the seething, battling mass. Here it would nurse its wounds, waiting seemingly for the horrible struggle to end. Here also it would be joined by other victors, but these undoubtedly having the proper respect for the fighting powers of those about them, would not again take the risk of being annihilated.

The duelling was becoming less fierce each moment for the weaker were fast being overcome and the survivors joining their victorious comrades. All this time the dreadful groans continued. Now the last victor had vanquished his foe and joined the others.

“Ah, the battle is finished,” said Mr. Bruce.

“No, not yet,” said Onrai. “Watch the line of victors.”

These had formed a straight compact line, and as if by a signal, they charged on the bodies of the dead and wounded floating on the surface. Their movements were as swift as lightning, and like a body of well-drilled cavalrymen they charged, killing the helpless wounded, and lacerating the bodies of the dead. Then they again retreated and, as the first faint rays of morn streaked the eastern heavens, they sank beneath the surface, leaving the bodies of their victims to rot in the heat of the equatorial sun.

When the party again reached the mainland, they were taken to the villa in which they were to spend the night. The men returned to the lake in the evening and watched the process of cutting up the monsters, and taking from them the fat which produced the oil. The remains of the animals were then piled in heaps and burned. One hundred and four had been killed the night before, but how many still remained to be slaughtered by their mates?

As the men stood watching the scene, Onrai said:

“This sight is even becoming loathsome to me; let us return to the villa.”

As they were crossing the broad avenue, a suspicion of music was wafted from the direction of the city. It was so faint that our friends could not say whether it was the music of distant harps, or the song of some night bird, far away. They stopped for a moment and listened, but the sound not again being heard, they resumed their walk toward the villa.

Onrai had also stopped and seemed to be listening, but had offered no explanation until they again started for the villa. Our friends seemed to think he could explain this distant music if he wished to, and they looked at him inquiringly. Noticing this look, Onrai said:

“In two months comes the Day of Resis. It is our custom during the two months previous to this day to sing songs of praise at this hour each evening.”

“Are they songs of joy and happiness?” asked Mr. Bruce.

“They are,” said Onrai. But he would say nothing further on the subject.