Arma Virumque cano!—The Chase of the Wild Boar!—The Prisoners at the Window.—The Alban Army.—Wild Uproar.—Three hundred and sixty-five Pocket Handkerchiefs.—Flame.—Smoking out the Monster.—A Salamander.

Arma puerosque cano!

Sing, O muse, the immortal Albanian Boar Hunt!

How outside the doomed town of Albano lurked the mighty monster in his lair.

How the frightened messengers roused the people to action.

How the whole population, stimulated to deeds of bold emprise, grasped each the weapon that lay nearest, whether bolt, or bar, or tool of mechanic, or implement of husbandry, and then, joining their forces, went forth to do battle against the Fell Destroyer.

How the pallid victims, imprisoned in the topmost tower, gazed with staring eyes upon the mighty delivering host, and shouted out blessings upon their heads.

How the sight of the pallid victims cheered the bold deliverers, and drew them nearer to the lair of the monster.

And so forth.

Very well.

To resume.

Stationed at the window, David and Clive saw their friends vanish in the direction of Albano, and knew that they had gone for help. This thought so cheered them, that in spite of a somewhat protracted absence, they bore up well, and diversified the time between watchings at the window, and listenings at the head of the ladder. From the window nothing was visible for a long time; but from the head of the ladder there came up at intervals such sounds as indicated that the fierce wild boar was still as restless, as ruthless, as hungry, and as vigilant as ever.

Then came up to their listening ears the same sounds already described, together with hoarser tones of a more pronouncedly grunting description, which showed more truly that the beast was in very truth a wild boar. But Clive did not venture down again, nor did he even mention the subject. His former attempt had been most satisfactory, since it satisfied him that no other attempt could be thought of. In spite of this, however, both the boys had risen to a more cheerful frame of mind. Their future began to look brighter, and the prospect of a rescue served to put them both. into comparative good humor, the only drawback to which was their now ravenous hunger.

At length the army of their deliverers appeared, and David, who was watching at the window, shouted to Clive, who was listening at the opening, whereupon the latter rushed to the other window.

The delivering host drew nigh, and then at a respectable distance halted and surveyed the scene of action.

Frank and Bob came on, however, without stopping, followed by Uncle Moses, after whom came the guide. Frank with his old fowling-piece, Bob with a pitchfork, Uncle Moses with a scythe, and the guide with a rope. What each one proposed to do was doubtful; but our travellers had never been strong on weapons of war, and the generous Alban people seemed to be in the same situation.

As Frank and his companions moved nearer, the rest of the multitude took courage and followed, though in an irregular fashion.

Soon Frank came near enough to speak.

"Is he there yet?" was his first remark.

"Yes," said Clive.

"Where?"

"At the left end of the lower room, under a pile of fagots."

"Can't you manage to drive him out, so that I can get a shot at him?" asked Frank, proudly brandishing his weapon.

"O, no. We can't do anything."

"I wish you could," said Frank.

"I wish we could too." said David, fervently.

Upon this Frank talked with the guide. The question was, what should they do now? The most desirable thing was, to draw the wild beast out of his lair, so that they might have a fair chance with him; but, unfortunately, the wild beast utterly refused to move from his lair.

After some talk with his guide, Frank suggested that a large number of the crowd should go to the rear, and the left end of the house, and strike at it, and utter appalling cries, so as to frighten the wild boar and drive him out. This proposal the guide explained to the crowd, who at once proceeded with the very greatest alacrity to act upon it. Most of them were delighted at the idea, of fighting the enemy in that fashion; and so it happened that the entire crowd took up their station in a dense mass at the rear of the building; and then they proceeded to beat upon the walls of the house, to shout, to yell, and to utter such hideous sounds, that any ordinary animal would simply have gone mad with fright, and died on the spot. But this animal proved to be no ordinary one in this respect. Either he was accustomed to strange noises, or else he had such nerves of steel, that the present uproar affected him no more than the sighing of the gentlest summer breeze; indeed, David and Clive were far more affected, for at the first outbreak of that tumultuous uproar, they actually jumped from the floor, and thought that the rickety old house was tumbling about their ears.

During this proceeding, Frank stood bravely in front of the door, about a dozen yards off, with his rusty fowling-piece; and close beside him stood Bob with his pitchfork, Uncle Moses with his scythe, and the guide with his rope.

"He doesn't care for this at all," said Frank, in a dejected tone.
"We must try something else. What shall we do?"

And saying this, he turned once more and talked with the guide.

Meanwhile David and Clive, who had recovered their equanimity, rushed to the opening, and began to assist their friends by doing what they could to frighten the wild boar.

"Shoo-o-o-o-o-o!" said David.

"Hs-s-s-s-s-s-s!" said Clive.

"Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o!" said David.

"Gr-r-r-r-r-r-r!" cried Clive.

But the wild boar did not move, even though the uproar without still continued.

Then Clive went down the ladder a little distance, far enough down so that by bending, his head was below the upper floor. Then he took his hat and hurled it with all his might and main at the pile of fagots.

Then he went up again.

But the wild boar did not move.

Thereupon David went down, and he went a little lower. He took his hat, and uttering a hideous yell, he threw it with all his force at the fagots.

But even this failed to alarm the wild boar. David stood for a moment after this bold deed and listened. The only satisfaction that he had was the sound of a low, comfortable grunt, that seemed to show that the present situation was one which was rather enjoyed than otherwise by this formidable, this indomitable, this invincible beast.

They came back to the windows in despair, and by this time Frank had finished his discussion with the guide. He was looking up anxiously towards them.

"Look here," said he; "that miserable wild boar won't come out. The guide thinks the only way to get at him is to smoke him out. The only trouble is about you. Will the smoke bother yon, do you think?"

"I don't know," said Clive.

"Can you stop up the opening?"

"No."

"Can you keep your heads oat of the windows?"

"We'll try. But I wish you'd only thought of bringing a ladder, so as to get us out first, before smoking him."

"Yes, I wish we had," said Frank, thoughtfully. "But never mind," he added, cheerily, "there's no use going back for one, because, you see, we'll have you out of that long before a ladder could be brought here."

It was only by yelling at the top of their voices that they were able to make themselves heard by one another, for the crowd behind the house still kept up their yells, and knockings, and thumpings, and waited to hear that the wild boar had fled. As the time passed without any such news, they were only stimulated to fresh efforts, and howled more fearfully and yelled more deafeningly.

"There's an awful waste of energy and power about here, somehow," said Frank. "There ought to be some way of getting at that wretched beast, without all this nonsense. Here we are,—I don't know how many of us, but the whole population of a town, at any rate, against one,—and what's worse, we don't seem to make any impression."

Meanwhile the guide had gone off among the crowd, and while Frank was grumbling, he was busying himself among them, and was engaged in carrying out a very brilliant idea that had just suggested itself to him. In a short time he returned with an armful of something, the nature of which Frank could not quite make out.

"What have you got there?" he asked. "What are you going to do?"

"Dey are all handkerchiefs."

"Handkerchiefs?"

"Yes; de handkerchiefs of de population of Albano. Dey are as many as de days of de year."

"I should think so," cried Frank, in amazement. "But what are you going to do with them?"

"Do wit dem? I am going to make a smoke."

"A smoke? What? Are you going to burn them up?"

"Dere is notin else to burn; so I must burn what I can. See, I make a bundle of dese. I set fire to dem. Dey burn—dey smoke—and de boar smoke out. Aha! he suffocate—he expire—he run!"

"Well, if that isn't the greatest idea I ever heard of!" cried Frank. "Handkerchiefs! Why, you must have hundreds of them in that bundle."

The guide smiled, and made no answer. It was a brilliant idea. It was all his own. He was proud of it. He was pleased to think that the number of them was equal to the number of days in the year. Three hundred and sixty-five handkerchiefs collected from the good, the virtuous, the self-sacrificing people of Albano, who were now yelling and howling as before, at the rear of the house, and diversifying the uproar by loud calls and inquiries about the wild boar.

The guide smiled cheerily over the handkerchiefs. He was so proud of his original idea! He went calmly on, forming them into a rough bundle, doing it very dexterously, so that the bundle might be tight enough to hold together, yet loose enough to burn, Frank watched him curiously. So did Bob. So did Uncle Moses. So did Clive. So did David. Three hundred and sixty-five handkerchiefs! Only think of it!

At last the work was finished. The handkerchiefs rolled up into a big ball, loose, yet cohesive, with ends hanging out in all directions.

"You had better be careful what you do," said Clive. "The end of the chamber below is full of dry fagots. If they were to catch fire, what would come of us?"

"O, alla right," said the guide. "Nevare fear. I trow him so he sall not go near de wood. He make no flame, only de smoke. Nevare fear."

At this the trepidation which these preparations bad excited in the minds of Clive and David, departed, and they watched the subsequent proceedings without a word.

The guide now took the bundle which he had formed out of the handkerchiefs of the population of Albano, and holding it under his left arm, he drew forth some matches, and breaking off one, he struck it against the sole of his boot. It kindled. Thereupon he held the Same to the bundle of handkerchiefs. The flame caught. The bundle blazed. The guide held it for some time till the blaze caught at one after another of the projecting ends of the rolled-up handkerchiefs, and the flame had eaten its way into the mass, and then venturing nearer to the doorway, he advanced, keeping a little on one side, and watching for an opportunity to throw it in. Frank followed with his rusty gun, Bob with his pitchfork, and Uncle Moses with his scythe. All were ready, either for attack or defence, and all the while the bellowing of the crowd behind the house went on uninterruptedly.

The guide reached at length a point about ten feet from the door.
Then he poised himself and took aim. Then he threw the burning ball.

But his aim was bad. The ball struck the side of the doorway, and fell outside. In an instant Frank rushed forward, and seizing it, threw it inside. It fell on the floor, and rolled towards the foot of the ladder, where it lay blazing, and smouldering, and sending forth smoke enough to satisfy the most exacting mind.

Then Frank drew back a little, poising his gun, while Bob, Uncle
Moses, and the guide, took up their stations beside him.

The smoke rose up bravely from the burning mass; but after all, the result was not what had been desired. It rolled up through the opening above, and gathered in blue masses in the room where Clive and David were imprisoned. They felt the effects of the pungent vapors very quickly, more especially in their eyes, which stung, and smarted and emitted torrents of tears. Their only refuge from this new evil was to thrust their heads as far out of the windows as was possible; and this they did by sitting on the window ledge, clinging to the wall, and projecting their bodies far forward outside of the house. For a time they were sustained by the hope that their enemy below was feeling it worse than they were, and that he would soon relax his vigilant watch and fly. But alas! that enemy showed no signs of flight, and it soon became evident to them and to those outside, that all the smoke went to the upper room, to oppress the prisoners, and but little spread through the lower room; so little, indeed, that the wild boar did not feel any inconvenience in particular.

"Can't you do something?" asked Clive, imploringly.

"We can't stand this much longer," said David, despairingly, with streaming eyes, and choking voice.

Their words sounded faint and low amidst the yelling of the crowd behind the house, who still maintained their stations there, from preference, and kept up their terrific outcry. Amid the yells there came occasional anxious inquiries as to the success of their efforts. At times messengers would venture from the rear to the front to reconnoitre. These messengers, however, were only few in number, and their reconnoitring was of the most superficial description possible.

The latest experiment of the guide was the cause of more frequent and more urgent inquiries. So many handkerchiefs had been invested in this last venture, that it was brought nearer home than before. Each man felt that he was concerned personally in the affair; that, in fact, he, in the shape of a representative of so important a kind as his own handkerchief, was already inside, and assailing the obstinate monster with a more terrible arm than any which had yet been employed—smoke and fire.

But the clamor of the crowd had not so much effect on the little band in front, as the sight of poor Clive and David, who, clinging to the window with their faces flushed, and their eyes red, swollen, and streaming with tears, appeared unable to hold out much longer.

"Do something or other, quick," cried Clive.

"I'll have to jump down," said David.

And both, of them tried to push themselves farther out, while their faces were turned down, and they seemed anxiously measuring with their eyes the distance between themselves and the ground.