APPROACHING THE FIRST HOSTILE CAMP
The only thing the boys really missed on the long journeys was the milk,
and necessarily the butter. The yaks were a perfect feast for them. It
was jolly fun to take care of them and milk the animals, and all took a
hand in caring for the milk and churning the butter.
It was the jolliest, happiest community ever associated, and it was also
a trying one in many ways, but these difficulties only brought them
closer together, and showed the beauty of mutual aid and comfort, and
the pleasures that grew out of them became keener as the days passed.
Each task appeared to be a pleasure; there was no work too hard or
exertion too difficult to perform. Whether in preparing the food or
making the ammunition, or the hunting or fishing, all seemed a part of
the great work which John and the Professor had instilled in them.
They realized that there was something for them to live for; that they
were placed on the island for some great object; and that while the
rescue of their friends was a solemn duty, the other “burden,” to try
and conquer the savages for their own welfare, was a part of their life.
Speaking of the subject one evening, the Professor observed: “Many
people have a wrong impression of the divine injunction, that ‘it is
better to give than to receive.’ This does not imply mere material
things, but it goes far beyond that. A gift means nothing; it may be a
pleasant reminder; but aside from that what is there which is really a
service to either giver or receiver? The true giving is that which does
not cost the giver anything. The great donor is he who can transfer to
the recipient something which he could not otherwise gain. To teach a
man how he can make two blades of grass grow where one grew before, or
to impart the knowledge whereby a laborious task can be accomplished in
an easier manner, or how the drudgery of life can be made a pleasant
recreation, these are the great things of life, and are the greatest
gifts in the power of civilized men.”
“It seems odd that it should be necessary to take a whole arsenal along
with us for the purpose of trying to civilize the savages,” said George,
laughing.
“Quite true,” answered John. “It has been said that England, the
greatest civilizing force the world has ever known, sent her subjects to
the shores of the foreign barbarians, with a Bible in one hand and a gun
in the other. The Church and the fort seemed to be a necessary pair of
instruments, put up opposite each other on the same highway that led to
the rescue of the savages.”
“Well, in our case, we carry our fort with us,” and Tom laughed as he
added: “But what are we going to do about the Bible?”
The Professor smiled, as did the others: “If you carry out that
injunction, giving and not receiving, you are doing what the Bible
teaches in essence.”
They now had the two captives, one who was still unable to walk and the
other rapidly improving, and no doubt in a condition where he would be
able to take care of himself within another week, and by that time the
other would be so materially improved as to lighten the care necessary
in his case.
Meanwhile every moment was put to the necessary preparations for the
great self-imposed task, however critical it might be. The ammunition
supply was doubled, and ten more gun barrels drilled out, accompanied
with the stocks and fittings for the complete equipment. At odd hours
the loom was in motion, making the crude sort of cloth that ramie fiber
afforded; a load of cane was brought in and fifty pounds of sugar boiled
down ready for use.
The wagon was thoroughly overhauled, and a new yoke provided. Thus each
day was filled with excitement growing out of the new impulse which had
been implanted in them.
The Saboro was learning rapidly, and his efforts to pronounce many of
the words sounded generally like a severe case of stuttering, which was
frequently amusing, and George, who had a faculty for affixing names,
never referred to him except by the appellation of Mr. Stut.
“Why isn’t that a good name,” ventured Tom, as the significance burst on
him. From that time forward he was known as Stut. It was simply the boy
habit of giving some name, even to somebody who had a much better one,
and it was so easy to pronounce.
“The other scalawag isn’t worth a name, as he is nothing but a chump. He
hasn’t said a word since he has been having the pleasure of our
company,” added Harry.
“Mr. Chump will suit him to a dot.”
Stut, and Chump, and Angel. John and the Professor laughed heartily as
the boys jollied and worked. It was a sample of part of the life in that
little community.
But the great day arrived. The wagon was loaded, and the merry party
started out on the trail, not knowing what dangers lurked in their
pathway. Every part of the forest to the west was a book to them. It had
been traversed by the Professor and two of the boys on six different
occasions, and three times John and the other two had trailed the
different routes.
They recalled how directions and objects had been enigmas to them when
the first attempt was made and with what fear and trembling the dark
recesses of the woods filled them. It was entirely different on this
occasion. They were strong, healthy, vigorous, and had been trained to
woodcraft and hunting; were experts with the guns, and under the
training of John and their previous engagements with the savages
acquired a skill and confidence which only experience can teach.
It would not be going far out of the way to note that John and the
Professor were proud of the boys. It would not be possible for two to be
more congenial than their association. It was a constant source of
delightful conversation to talk about their boys.
“After considering the matter for some time I am of the opinion that we
should go directly west, after leaving the Cataract River, far enough to
avoid the densest portion of the forest, which lies to the north of
South River, and turn south about five miles east of West River,”
remarked the Professor, as they were discussing the most available
route.
“But you forget, Professor, that will bring us down to the very place
where we crossed the tributary of the West River, and where we had our
first meeting with the savages.”
“That is exactly the reason why I made the suggestion. I also had
another object in view. From Stut’s description that is the direction we
should go to reach the tribe which has the boys.”
Harry had forgotten this.
John did not remember the trip referred to, as it was taken during the
time when his memory was still in darkness; but he turned to the
Professor: “Was that place about ten miles east or southeast of the
Tuolos?”
“Yes.”
“Then, if we go directly south from that point we shall find the last
tribe which captured me, and when we reach them I am sure there will be
a welcome for us.”
In explanation of this it should be stated that John was captured the
first time by a very bitter and vindictive set, from whom he escaped,
only to be taken, during the progress of a battle, by the successful
tribe, living to the west. The last tribe was named the Osagas, and when
the Professor and the boys had the first fight it was with this tribe,
and from them the Chief, named Uraso, was captured, and held a prisoner
for a time.
Uraso was with them long enough to become fairly familiar with the
language, but John was able to talk with them, with some degree of
intelligence, as he had learned the rudimentary part of the language.
Uraso’s return to the tribe was a sore disappointment, because it was
hoped that he would serve as a link by which they could communicate with
the savages.
The first night the encampment was on the bank of the upper portion of
Cataract River, and they would leave its shore in the morning for a more
southerly course. The complete equipment was not a heavy load, since all
of them walked except the Professor and Chump; the other captive, Stut,
was allowed his liberty, because they felt that the direction of their
route would bring them into a neighborhood which was remote from his
tribe, and to reach his home it would be necessary to pass at least two
of the hostile tribes.
The second night they encamped in what might fairly be called the
enemy’s country, as on one of the previous trips the first view of them
was had not many miles to the south. Caution, therefore, must be
exercised, and the custom which had been established of setting regular
watches was now resorted to.
Angel was with them, as a matter of course. His aid was invaluable, and
the joyful chuckles which he emitted, when the wagon first started on
its journey, told his feelings too well for words.
After the morning meal John and George took the advance. This was the
signal for Angel to follow. He shambled along, and whenever opportunity
offered was in the trees, swinging along from one to the next, and
keeping up the pace without any apparent effort.
At intervals George would call to Angel to ascend a high tree and look
to the south. This was now a familiar thing for him to do. He seemed to
be proud of the faculty. George had on many occasions performed this
scouting operation, and Angel learned to know its meaning.
Noon came before the tributary stream of the West River was reached.
They hoped to encamp on its shore for luncheon, but it was still an hour
or more away.
Before luncheon was over, Angel, in the highest treetop, began to
descend with that well-known danger chatter, to which all had become
accustomed. George ran to the tree and pointed to the south, and this
was the signal for the repetition of his talk about the savages.
Selecting the most accessible tree, George mounted it for thirty feet,
accompanied by Angel, and, following the eyes of the animal, could
distinctly see moving objects directly to the south.
“I can see them, way beyond the river,” he cried. “If I can distinguish
anything I will let you know.”
“Can it be possible the Osagas are there?” asked the Professor.
[Illustration: _Fig. 7._ _Angel in a Papaw tree sighting the Savages._]
“They would be in that direction,” answered John.
“But I think we told you that it was near this place we had the fights
with the tribes, where we accidentally got between the two factions.”
“It is probable they were fighting with the same people that attacked
the Osagas the last time, but it is my impression they were much farther
to the east.”
“Don’t you remember, Professor, that on the second day we saw a tribe
different from those who attacked us before?”
“That is what I was going to remark. The whole matter of their tribal
warfares seems to be pretty much mixed up.”
“Yes,” called down George, “there is quite a party, probably fifty or
more--it is hard to tell at this distance.”
“Do you see any huts?” asked John.
After a pause, he answered: “No; nothing I can distinguish. It looks to
me as though this is very near the place we had our first skirmish, and
what seems peculiar is that when we were here before something like huts
were visible in that direction.”
George was quiet for a time, when he continued: “Do you remember that
after we crossed the river we made our way somewhat to the west and
ascended a hill that had large trees on it. I mean the place where we
had the second day’s fight, when we started for the West River?”
“That describes the place exactly. Can you see that? What we took for
the villages was directly to the south of that point.”
“There are no villages there now.”
“How near that place are the people you see?”
“Directly to the east, probably less than a mile.”
“Then that is our objective point,” said John.
The time for action had come. All was excitement, but it was one mixed
with a determination which meant business. The wagon was put in motion,
and headed directly for the river. Before two o’clock the stream was
crossed, and waiting only long enough to water the yaks, they were urged
forward at a feverish speed.
John, George and the Angel again went to the front. At frequent
intervals Angel swung up into the treetops, and whenever an opportunity
presented itself George was an observer from the same vantage points.
They were moving nearer and nearer to their objects. It was nearly four
o’clock when John called a halt, as he said: “We can now reach them in
less than a half hour, and it is now merely a matter for us to decide,
whether we shall make ourselves known now or wait for the morning, when
we have a full day before us. For my part, we should camp, and we shall
then be fresh for whatever turns up to-morrow.”
This was considered good advice, and the fort was erected at the side of
a small rivulet where John had halted, and the cattle placed inside.
Stut, to the surprise of all, lent a willing hand in the proceeding.
John, after the fort had been erected, and the evening meal served,
said: “This ground is familiar to me. I have crossed and recrossed that
stream back there many times, but not at this place. I can recall it
because the water, if you noticed it, is quite reddish, or rather a
reddish brown, due, no doubt, to the iron along the stream. It flows
from the direction of the first tribe that captured me.”
“It seems to me we should have some settled policy with respect to our
manner of treating with these people. Judging from our past experience
with them, we must be firm and aggressive.”
“You are entirely right in that observation. Do not let us show any
hesitancy in approaching them. In my opinion a bold front will do more
to make them respect us than any other course.”
The night was clear, but the moon had not yet risen, and before nine
John and George left the wagon on a scouting trip in the direction of
the savages. The first mile was made at a rapid pace, but it became
necessary to observe greater caution. By thus making an early
investigation some idea might be obtained of the number, and possibly
their designs.
The matter which most interested them was to ascertain whether this was
the location of their homes, or if they had to meet a party on the
warpath. In the latter case the problem was a more difficult one to
handle. It was also desirable to ascertain what tribe they had to deal
with.
The thing which early attracted John’s attention was the absence of
fires. “I do not like that symptom. If they are in the vicinity of their
home there would be fires evident somewhere. They are also exceedingly
quiet, which adds to the belief that this is a party on the way to
attack some neighboring people.”
The forward movement was made from shrub to tree, and from one bush to
the next, until they were not five hundred feet from the camp, and at
that distance the low sound of voices was distinguishable. It is
singular that they had not disturbed a single picket.
“It will be safer for one alone to move through this brush, so remain
here and keep a sharp lookout, while I go forward. Under no
circumstances must an alarm be made, and do not use the gun except in
self-defense, and in such an event do not wait for me, but return to the
wagon with all haste.”
“How long will you be gone?” asked George.
“If I do not return in a half hour, you may be at liberty to go back.”
“But suppose they capture you?”
“If they get me you will know it.”
“How?”
“My gun will tell you that.”
John cautiously moved forward so quietly that George did not hear his
motions, and he could then appreciate the ability of such a woodsman to
creep upon an enemy.
As he approached the camp it became more obvious that they had to deal
with a band of warriors, and within less than two hundred feet of the
main body he spied the first pickets. He knew the custom of the natives
in this respect, as they never scouted singly, so that he was not
surprised to see two together.
Cautiously moving away from them, to the left, he again approached in
the direction of the center of the camp, and after making a narrow
circle to be sure that no other pickets were in the immediate vicinity,
carefully advanced to a point not one hundred feet from the outer
circle.
This gave him an opportunity to count the combatants. They had no tents,
and beyond the mumbling sounds of the talkers, there was nothing to
attract attention. There were no captives in sight, and only twice
during the time he was in close view of the camp, did any warriors come
in, or others go out.
During this period, however, he had gained sufficient knowledge to
ascertain that they had only four sets of pickets, and all of them
disposed in the direction of the wagon, or to the northwest.
This was certainly a curious thing, and something he could not
understand at the time. He debated the subject in his mind for some
time, and then as quietly made his way back to George.
“That is the most peculiar way of picketing, to guard only one side of
the camp. Let us go eastwardly and try to pick up some information from
that quarter.”
They worked their way through the brush for a quarter of a mile when
John pointed to the south. “This is the direction to take. Guard the
movement of every foot now, and stop the moment you see my hand go up.”
The way now led up a perceptible elevation, which could not really be
called a hill, but it was a slope, thickly wooded, and with considerably
less underbrush than in the lower ground. The trees were not large,
however, and the absence of the vegetation enabled them to see a much
greater distance, and thus made the work easier, and enabled a much more
rapid pace.