The Book People
nearer and more near, and through the dimly lighted water the children could see the great Deep Sea People advancing.
Very terrible they were, big beyond man-size, more stalwart and more finely knit than the Forlorn Hopers who had led the attack so happily and gloriously frustrated by the Crabs, the Narwhals and the Sea Urchins. As the advance guard drew near all the children stared, from their places of concealment, at the faces of these terrible foes of the happy Merland. Very strong the faces were, and, surprisingly, very, very sad. They looked—Francis at least was able to see it—like strong folk suffering proudly an almost intolerable injury—bearing, bravely, an almost intolerable pain.
"But I'm on the other side," he told himself, to check a sudden rising in his heart of—well, if it was not sympathy, what was it?
And now the head of the advancing column was level with the Princess. True to the old tradition which bids a commander lead and not to follow his troops, she was the first to dart out and fix a shell to the heel of the left-rank man. The children were next. Their practice bore its fruit. There was no blunder, no mistake. Each oyster shell clipped sharp and clean the attached ankle of an enemy; each oyster shell at the same moment attached itself firmly to the rock, thus clinging to his base in the most thorough and military way. A spring of joy and triumph welled up in the children's hearts. How easy it was to get the better of these foolish Deep Sea Folk. A faint, kindly contempt floated into the children's minds for the Mer-people, who so dreaded and hated these stupid giants. Why, there were fifty or sixty of them tied by the leg already! It was as easy as—
The pleasant nature of these reflections had kept our four rooted to the spot. In the triumphant performance of one duty
133
