Page:Sienkiewicz - The knights of the cross.djvu/531

Rh taught, not by a mild herald of the gospel, with an apostle's love, but by an iron-clad German monk, having in him the soul of an executioner.

Skirvoillo, and the more important princes and boyars, had become Christian already, since they had followed the example of Yagello and Vitold. Others, even the rudest and wildest warriors, carried in their bosoms a dim feeling that the end and the death of their old world and old faith was coming; and were ready to bend their heads before the Cross, should it only be a cross not raised by Germans, not raised by hands that were detested. "We implore baptism," cried they to all princes and peoples; "but remember that we are human, that we are not wild beasts to be given away, bought and sold." Meanwhile, since the old faith was dying, as a fire dies when no one casts a fresh stick on it, and since hearts were turned from the new faith which German preponderance represented, in their souls a vacuum was created, and fear with dreadful sorrow for the past, and deep sadness. Hlava, who from childhood had grown up in the joyous bustle of soldiers' life, with songs and sounding music, saw for the first time a camp so mournful and so silent. Scarcely here and there, near the fires of Skirvoillo' s remotest huts, were heard the sounds of a pipe or a whistle, or the words of a low song hummed by a "burtinikas." The warriors were listening with bowed heads and eyes fixed on the light. Some were squatted in groups around the fires, with their elbows resting on their knees and their faces hidden by their hands, and covered with skins, like ravening beasts of the forest. But when they raised their heads toward the passing knights, a gleam of light from the fire showed blue eyes and mild faces, not at all fierce or robber-like, but resembling much more the faces of wronged and sad children. At the outskirts of the camping-ground, on mosses, lay those wounded warriors whom they had been able to bring in from the last battle. Soothsayers, or so-called "labdarysi" and "seitons," were muttering incantations above them and dressing their wounds, to which they applied healing herbs as the men lay there patiently in silence, enduring pain and torment. From among distant trees, from the direction of fields and meadows came the whistling of horseherds; at intervals wind rose, whirling the smoke of the camp around and filling with its voice the dark forest. As night advanced the fires became dimmer and died out;