But, eagerly as Saturninus watched for the galleys expected from Arbor, another was to learn their anticipated departure long before he knew of it. This was Duke Hariowald. On a wooded hill, the hill of Zio, named the GeerebÜhl, east of the Holy Mountain, almost directly opposite to Arbor, a little band of Alemanni spies watched night and day, one, relieved every hour, gazing steadily across the lake at the Hill of Mercury, the nearest height south of Arbor on the southern shore of the lake. The region around this harbor fortress, which was wholly under Roman rule, was inhabited by colonists of various tribes: among them many Alemanni whom capture, or voluntary surrender and removal, had led to the better-tilled, more richly cultivated southern shore. At noon on the day of Adalo's secret message a slender, almost invisible column of smoke rose from the Hill of Mercury on the southern shore: instantly a thick grayish-black cloud of smoke ascended from the GeerebÜhl on the north shore. This was clearly seen from the eastern side of the summit of the Holy Mountain,--the Hill of Mercury was not visible from it,--and one of the guards who constantly watched the GeerebÜhl, instantly rushed into the Duke's tent "Smoke is rising on Zio's Mountain! A high column of smoke." Hariowald came out of his tent in full armor (during the past week he had scarcely removed it night or day), with his battle helmet on his noble head. This helmet was a very strange one: whoever unexpectedly saw it gleam before him might well be startled. In those days, as well as now, the great white owl was a rare visitor to Lake Constance. Scarcely once in a decade did this stranger from the far north go so far southwest in its migratory flight as the neighborhood of the Alps. Early in the winter of the previous year Adalo had brought down with his arrow a magnificent specimen of the superb bird of prey from a tall fir-tree in the forest by the lake, and given the huge bird with its gleaming snow-white plumage, marked only with a few rusty brown feathers in undulating lines on the breast, to his white-haired cousin as a splendid ornament for his helmet. The owl now spread above the bronze head-piece its huge pinions which, though not stretched to their full width, extended more than three feet. It was not mounted as eagle and swan wings usually were, with the tips of the feathers toward the back of the helmet, but in the opposite way, turned forward, startling and confusing the spectator by the threatening attitude--a true helmet of terror, such as Odin wears when he rushes into battle at the head of his troops. With this helmet and clad in full armor, the Duke came out of his tent and motioned to one of the heralds, who always waited his orders here. The man seized the long crooked horn of the aurochs, which hung ready on one of the posts of the tent, and sounded it three times. The summons echoed far and wide. Instantly the other heralds, carrying white-ash staffs in their hands, and wearing smaller horns hung by leather thongs over their shoulders, hurried down from the summit in every direction, through all the lines of the fortifications, bearing the Duke's summons to the most distant outpost. The warriors flocked from all sides, fully armed, swiftly climbing the mountain; only the guards needed to protect the fords across the swamps, the barricades, and the narrow entrances to the ring walls remained behind. All pressed up the mountain and, as soon as they reached the summit, surged toward a giant ash-tree which, from the top of the loftiest mountain peak, thrust its branches into the clouds. Close to its trunk a sort of judge's tribunal had been built of large stones; an oblong one rested like a back against the tree; another of the same height, laid across two blocks sunk in the earth, formed the seat. Several stone steps led up to the high seat, and on them lay various weapons, among them one very plain shield and spear, with the rune fe, corresponding to the Latin F. Then came a costly boar helmet, a richly ornamented bronze shield, covered with a boar's hide and, like the helmet, decorated with two boar's tusks outstretched defiantly; a sword in a costly sheath of polished linden wood, richly mounted with bronze; a sharp battle axe and a spear, the handles of both adorned and strengthened by gilded nails: these weapons bore as a house-mark drawings of two boar tusks. Last of all were a small, very light round shield, a short spear, and a dainty sword with a white leather belt painted with red lead: each of the three weapons bore as house-mark a stag's antlers. The Duke had not yet taken his seat. Standing erect on the horizontal stone, with his spear in his right hand, he scanned the warriors flocking from every direction. A huge oblong shield, almost the height of a man, painted red, with black runes inscribed upon it, hung above his head on a bough of the ash. The whole top of the peak around the tree was inclosed and girdled by "cords and staves"; that is, by hazel wands and spears, which--the latter with the iron points uppermost--stood thrust into the earth at distances of seven feet apart, and were bound together by linen bands almost a hand's breadth wide, knotted around the middle of the staffs, the red hue of the bands proclaiming that the popular assembly was to judge matters of life and death. |