The Young Carthaginian: A Story of The Times of Hannibal by G. A. Henty (no david read aloud .txt) 📕

was prodigious. Thousands of men tugged at the oars, the roughly made canoes were dashed against each other and often upset, while from the opposite bank rose loudly the defiant yells of the natives, prepared to dispute to the last the landing of the flotilla. Suddenly these cries assumed a different character. A mass of smoke was seen to rise from the tents of the enemy's camp, and Hanno's division poured down upon their rear. The Arecomici, taken wholly by surprise, were seized with a panic, and fled hastily in all directions, leaving the bank clear for the landing of Hannibal. The whole of the army were brought across at once and encamped that night on the river.

In the morning Hannibal sent off five hundred Numidian horse to reconnoitre the river below, and ascertain what Scipio's army, which was known to have landed at its mouth, was doing. He then assembled his army and introduced to them some chiefs of the tribes beyond the Alps, who had a day or two before arrived in the camp with the agents he had sent to their country. They harangued the soldiers, an interpreter translating their speeches, and assured them of the welcome they would meet in the rich and fertile country beyond the Alps, and of the alacrity with which the people there would join them against the Romans.

Hannibal himself then addressed the soldiers, pointed out to them that they had already accomplished by far the greatest part of their journey, had overcome every obstacle, and that there now remained but a few days' passage over the mountains, and that Italy, the goal of all their endeavours, would then lie before them.

The soldiers replied with enthusiastic shouts, and Hannibal, after offering up prayers to the gods on behalf of the army, dismissed the soldiers, and told them to prepare to start on the following day. Soon after the assembly had broken up the Numidian horse returned in great confusion, closely pressed by the Roman cavalry, who had been sent by Scipio to ascertain Hannibal's position and course. The hostile cavalry had charged each other with fury. A hundred and forty of the Romans and two hundred of the Numidians were slain.

Hannibal saw that there was no time to be lost. The next morning, at daybreak, the whole of his cavalry were posted to the south to cover the movements of the army and to check the Roman advance. The infantry were then set in motion up the bank of the river and Hannibal, with a small party, remained behind to watch the passage of the elephants, which had not yet been brought across.

The elephants had not been trained to take to the water, and the operation was an extremely difficult one. Very strong and massive rafts were joined together until they extended two hundred feet into the river, being kept in their place by cables fastened to trees on the bank above them. At the end of this floating pier was placed another raft of immense size, capable of carrying four elephants at a time. A thick covering of earth was laid over the whole, and on this turf was placed. The elephants were then led forward.

So solid was the construction that they advanced upon it without hesitation. When four had taken their place on the great raft at the end, the fastenings which secured it to the rest of the structure were cut, and a large number of boats and barges filled with rowers began to tow the raft across the river. The elephants were seized with terror at finding themselves afloat, but seeing no way of escape remained trembling in the centre of the raft until they reached the other side. When it was safely across, the raft and towing boats returned, and the operation was repeated until all the elephants were over.

Some of the animals, however, were so terrified that they flung themselves from the rafts into the river and made their way to shore, keeping their probosces above the surface of the water. The Indians who directed them were, however, all swept away and drowned. As soon as the elephants were all across Hannibal called in his cavalry, and with them and the elephants followed the army.

The Romans did not arrive at the spot until three days after the Carthaginians had left. Scipio was greatly astonished when he found that Hannibal had marched north, as he believed that the Alps were impassable for an army, and had reckoned that Hannibal would certainly march down the river and follow the seashore. Finding that the Carthaginians had left he marched his army down to his ships again, re-embarked them, and sailed for Genoa, intending to oppose Hannibal as he issued from the defiles of the Alps, in the event of his succeeding in making the passage.

Four days' march up the Rhone brought Hannibal to the point where the Isere runs into that river. He crossed it, and with his army entered the region called by Polybius “The Island,” although the designation is an incorrect one, for while the Rhone flows along one side of the triangle and the Isere on the other, the base is formed not by a third river, but by a portion of the Alpine chain.

Malchus and his band had been among the first to push off from the shore when the army began to cross the Rhone. Malchus was in a roughly constructed canoe, which was paddled by Nessus and another of his men. Like most of the other canoes, their craft soon became waterlogged, for the rapid and angry current of the river, broken and agitated by so large a number of boats, splashed over the sides of the clumsy canoes, which were but a few inches above the water. The buoyancy of the wood was sufficient to float them even when full, but they paddled slowly and heavily.

The confusion was prodigious. The greater part of the men, unaccustomed to rowing, had little control over their boats. Collisions were frequent, and numbers of the boats were upset and their occupants drowned. The canoe which carried Malchus was making fair progress, but, to his vexation, was no longer in the front line. He was urging the paddlers to exert themselves to the utmost, when Nessus gave a sudden cry.

A horse which had broken loose from its fastenings behind one of the barges was swimming down, frightened and confused at the din. It was within a few feet of them when Nessus perceived it, and in another moment it struck the canoe broadside with its chest. The boat rolled over at once, throwing its occupants into the water. Malchus grasped the canoe as it upset, for he would instantly have sunk from the weight of his armour. Nessus a moment later appeared by his side.

“I will go to the other side, my lord,” he said, “that will keep the tree from turning over again.”

He dived under the canoe, and came up on the opposite side, and giving Malchus his hand across it, there was no longer any fear of the log rolling over. The other rower did not reappear above the surface. Malchus shouted in vain to some of the passing boats to pick him up, but all were so absorbed in their efforts to advance and their eagerness to engage the enemy that none paid attention to Malchus or the others in like plight. Besides, it seemed probable that all, if they stuck to their canoes, would presently gain one bank or other of the river. Malchus, too, had started rather low down, and he was therefore soon out of the flotilla.

The boat was nearly in midstream when the accident happened.

“The first thing to do,” Malchus said when he saw that there was no chance of their being picked up, “is