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<h2> CHAPTER XXXIV. PREPARATION </h2>
<p>Victory thus gained, the woman of Bulika began to speak about the city,
and talked much of its defenceless condition, of the wickedness of its
princess, of the cowardice of its inhabitants. In a few days the children
chattered of nothing but Bulika, although indeed they had not the least
notion of what a city was. Then first I became aware of the design of the
woman, although not yet of its motive.</p>
<p>The idea of taking possession of the place, recommended itself greatly to
Lona—and to me also. The children were now so rapidly developing
faculty, that I could see no serious obstacle to the success of the
enterprise. For the terrible Lilith—woman or leopardess, I knew her
one vulnerable point, her doom through her daughter, and the influence the
ancient prophecy had upon the citizens: surely whatever in the enterprise
could be called risk, was worth taking! Successful,—and who could
doubt their success?—must not the Little Ones, from a crowd of
children, speedily become a youthful people, whose government and
influence would be all for righteousness? Ruling the wicked with a rod of
iron, would they not be the redemption of the nation?</p>
<p>At the same time, I have to confess that I was not without views of
personal advantage, not without ambition in the undertaking. It was just,
it seemed to me, that Lona should take her seat on the throne that had
been her mother's, and natural that she should make of me her consort and
minister. For me, I would spend my life in her service; and between us,
what might we not do, with such a core to it as the Little Ones, for the
development of a noble state?</p>
<p>I confess also to an altogether foolish dream of opening a commerce in
gems between the two worlds—happily impossible, for it could have
done nothing but harm to both.</p>
<p>Calling to mind the appeal of Adam, I suggested to Lona that to find them
water might perhaps expedite the growth of the Little Ones. She judged it
prudent, however, to leave that alone for the present, as we did not know
what its first consequences might be; while, in the course of time, it
would almost certainly subject them to a new necessity.</p>
<p>"They are what they are without it!" she said: "when we have the city, we
will search for water!"</p>
<p>We began, therefore, and pushed forward our preparations, constantly
reviewing the merry troops and companies. Lona gave her attention chiefly
to the commissariat, while I drilled the little soldiers, exercised them
in stone-throwing, taught them the use of some other weapons, and did all
I could to make warriors of them. The main difficulty was to get them to
rally to their flag the instant the call was sounded. Most of them were
armed with slings, some of the bigger boys with bows and arrows. The
bigger girls carried aloe-spikes, strong as steel and sharp as needles,
fitted to longish shafts—rather formidable weapons. Their sole duty
was the charge of such as were too small to fight.</p>
<p>Lona had herself grown a good deal, but did not seem aware of it: she had
always been, as she still was, the tallest! Her hair was much longer, and
she was become almost a woman, but not one beauty of childhood had she
outgrown. When first we met after our long separation, she laid down her
infant, put her arms round my neck, and clung to me silent, her face
glowing with gladness: the child whimpered; she sprang to him, and had him
in her bosom instantly. To see her with any thoughtless, obstinate, or
irritable little one, was to think of a tender grandmother. I seemed to
have known her for ages—for always—from before time began! I
hardly remembered my mother, but in my mind's eye she now looked like
Lona; and if I imagined sister or child, invariably she had the face of
Lona! My every imagination flew to her; she was my heart's wife! She
hardly ever sought me, but was almost always within sound of my voice.
What I did or thought, I referred constantly to her, and rejoiced to
believe that, while doing her work in absolute independence, she was most
at home by my side. Never for me did she neglect the smallest child, and
my love only quickened my sense of duty. To love her and to do my duty,
seemed, not indeed one, but inseparable. She might suggest something I
should do; she might ask me what she ought to do; but she never seemed to
suppose that I, any more than she, would like to do, or could care about
anything except what must be done. Her love overflowed upon me—not
in caresses, but in a closeness of recognition which I can compare to
nothing but the devotion of a divine animal.</p>
<p>I never told her anything about her mother.</p>
<p>The wood was full of birds, the splendour of whose plumage, while it took
nothing from their song, seemed almost to make up for the lack of flowers—which,
apparently, could not grow without water. Their glorious feathers being
everywhere about in the forest, it came into my heart to make from them a
garment for Lona. While I gathered, and bound them in overlapping rows,
she watched me with evident appreciation of my choice and arrangement,
never asking what I was fashioning, but evidently waiting expectant the
result of my work. In a week or two it was finished—a long loose
mantle, to fasten at the throat and waist, with openings for the arms.</p>
<p>I rose and put it on her. She rose, took it off, and laid it at my feet—I
imagine from a sense of propriety. I put it again on her shoulders, and
showed her where to put her arms through. She smiled, looked at the
feathers a little and stroked them—again took it off and laid it
down, this time by her side. When she left me, she carried it with her,
and I saw no more of it for some days. At length she came to me one
morning wearing it, and carrying another garment which she had fashioned
similarly, but of the dried leaves of a tough evergreen. It had the
strength almost of leather, and the appearance of scale-armour. I put it
on at once, and we always thereafter wore those garments when on
horseback.</p>
<p>For, on the outskirts of the forest, had appeared one day a troop of
full-grown horses, with which, as they were nowise alarmed at creatures of
a shape so different from their own, I had soon made friends, and two of
the finest I had trained for Lona and myself. Already accustomed to ride a
small one, her delight was great when first she looked down from the back
of an animal of the giant kind; and the horse showed himself proud of the
burden he bore. We exercised them every day until they had such confidence
in us as to obey instantly and fear nothing; after which we always rode
them at parade and on the march.</p>
<p>The undertaking did indeed at times appear to me a foolhardy one, but the
confidence of the woman of Bulika, real or simulated, always overcame my
hesitancy. The princess's magic, she insisted, would prove powerless
against the children; and as to any force she might muster, our
animal-allies alone would assure our superiority: she was herself, she
said, ready, with a good stick, to encounter any two men of Bulika. She
confessed to not a little fear of the leopardess, but I was myself ready
for her. I shrank, however, from carrying ALL the children with us.</p>
<p>"Would it not be better," I said, "that you remained in the forest with
your baby and the smallest of the Little Ones?"</p>
<p>She answered that she greatly relied on the impression the sight of them
would make on the women, especially the mothers.</p>
<p>"When they see the darlings," she said, "their hearts will be taken by
storm; and I must be there encouraging them to make a stand! If there be a
remnant of hardihood in the place, it will be found among the women!"</p>
<p>"YOU must not encumber yourself," I said to Lona, "with any of the
children; you will be wanted everywhere!"</p>
<p>For there were two babies besides the woman's, and even on horseback she
had almost always one in her arms.</p>
<p>"I do not remember ever being without a child to take care of," she
answered; "but when we reach the city, it shall be as you wish!"</p>
<p>Her confidence in one who had failed so unworthily, shamed me. But neither
had I initiated the movement, nor had I any ground for opposing it; I had
no choice, but must give it the best help I could! For myself, I was ready
to live or die with Lona. Her humility as well as her trust humbled me,
and I gave myself heartily to her purposes.</p>
<p>Our way lying across a grassy plain, there was no need to take food for
the horses, or the two cows which would accompany us for the infants; but
the elephants had to be provided for. True, the grass was as good for them
as for those other animals, but it was short, and with their one-fingered
long noses, they could not pick enough for a single meal. We had,
therefore, set the whole colony to gather grass and make hay, of which the
elephants themselves could carry a quantity sufficient to last them
several days, with the supplement of what we would gather fresh every time
we halted. For the bears we stored nuts, and for ourselves dried plenty of
fruits. We had caught and tamed several more of the big horses, and now
having loaded them and the elephants with these provisions, we were
prepared to set out.</p>
<p>Then Lona and I held a general review, and I made them a little speech. I
began by telling them that I had learned a good deal about them, and knew
now where they came from. "We did not come from anywhere," they cried,
interrupting me; "we are here!"</p>
<p>I told them that every one of them had a mother of his own, like the
mother of the last baby; that I believed they had all been brought from
Bulika when they were so small that they could not now remember it; that
the wicked princess there was so afraid of babies, and so determined to
destroy them, that their mothers had to carry them away and leave them
where she could not find them; and that now we were going to Bulika, to
find their mothers, and deliver them from the bad giantess.</p>
<p>"But I must tell you," I continued, "that there is danger before us, for,
as you know, we may have to fight hard to take the city."</p>
<p>"We can fight! we are ready!" cried the boys.</p>
<p>"Yes, you can," I returned, "and I know you will: mothers are worth
fighting for! Only mind, you must all keep together."</p>
<p>"Yes, yes; we'll take care of each other," they answered. "Nobody shall
touch one of us but his own mother!"</p>
<p>"You must mind, every one, to do immediately what your officers tell you!"</p>
<p>"We will, we will!—Now we're quite ready! Let us go!"</p>
<p>"Another thing you must not forget," I went on: "when you strike, be sure
you make it a downright swinging blow; when you shoot an arrow, draw it to
the head; when you sling a stone, sling it strong and straight."</p>
<p>"That we will!" they cried with jubilant, fearless shout.</p>
<p>"Perhaps you will be hurt!"</p>
<p>"We don't mind that!—Do we, boys?"</p>
<p>"Not a bit!"</p>
<p>"Some of you may very possibly be killed!" I said.</p>
<p>"I don't mind being killed!" cried one of the finest of the smaller boys:
he rode a beautiful little bull, which galloped and jumped like a horse.</p>
<p>"I don't either! I don't either!" came from all sides.</p>
<p>Then Lona, queen and mother and sister of them all, spoke from her big
horse by my side:</p>
<p>"I would give my life," she said, "to have my mother! She might kill me if
she liked! I should just kiss her and die!"</p>
<p>"Come along, boys!" cried a girl. "We're going to our mothers!"</p>
<p>A pang went through my heart.—But I could not draw back; it would be
moral ruin to the Little Ones!</p>
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