URASO CAPTURED BY THE BEREES. WELCOMED BY THE PROFESSOR
The Professor and his party halted within the boundaries of the Osagas’
territory. The next day the principal village would be reached. This was
the day before the last incident recorded in the previous chapter.
When they approached the vicinity of the village, it was only too
apparent that the warriors had gone, and it was but the work of a few
minutes to surround it, to find the women, children and the aged and
infirm, huddled together in the various huts, in consternation at what
must be their fate.
They were gathered together, and the Professor addressed them through
Ralsea: “We have not come here to make war on you, and you will be left
here. We want to be your friends. Tell us where your warriors have
gone.”
An old man came forward and said: “You look like a white man who took
our chief Uraso and killed him. We felt bitter, and agreed with the
Kurabus to find you and be revenged. But the Saboros wanted to go, too,
and that would be too many to take the white man’s things, and before we
knew it the Saboros and the Kurabus went to find you.”
“Who told you that the white man had killed Uraso?”
“When the Kurabus and the Osagas had a fight in the north moons ago the
white man took Uraso. The Osagas sent scouts all over the land, and
found where the white man had his village, and could not see Uraso, and
they knew he had been sacrificed. This was confirmed when, after the
white man had captured one of the wounded Kurabus, and set him free,
because the Kurabu said that he was not in the village.”
“I am the man,” said the Professor, “who took Uraso; we did not kill
him, as we do not believe in killing captives. We cured him, and gave
him a repa (a bolo), and he ran away from us.”
The old man listened with astonishment as Ralsea translated the words.
Then turning to the sub-chief, he asked whether the white man had many
warriors. The Professor understood, and without waiting for Ralsea to
interpret the question, answered:
“We have many, many times more people than you have in all this land,
and we have wonderful reckas (weapons), but we want to be friends, and
not enemies.”
The old man then said that the warriors were now in the north, and that
the last band had gone there the day before to try and capture the
traveling murka (wagon) which the white men had.
This information was sufficiently startling to determine the Professor
to act at once; so turning to Ralsea he spoke as follows:
“We must try and prevent the Osagas from attacking my people. They will
resist, and many of them will be killed. Let us go at once with the
warriors.”
This was the most remarkable event which had ever taken place in the
lives of these people--it was the first time that a hostile tribe had
ever taken a village and not exacted a tribute. It was too astonishing
for their comprehension.
The Professor and his party had no idea that John and the boys had
directed the course of the wagon eastwardly, and were, therefore, at
that time in the Kurabu territory fully ten miles east of the point
where he hoped to find them.
For the present the most important thing was to follow the Osagas, and
halt them from attacking, so the column was hurried forward, directly to
the north in the trail of the fighters in the hope that they might be
overtaken before the next morning.
While this was going on John and the boys were preparing for the fight
of their lives. They were determined on forcing their way through the
hostile forces. The two bands were coming forward at a rapid rate, and
they saw them unite without any hostile exhibitions.
The parties had joined for some purpose, which was not then apparent, as
neither of the factions could have known of the presence of the wagon
before them. There was no movement for fully an hour, due doubtless to
consultations upon the subject at hand.
About two o’clock the combined column was set in motion, and it was
noticed that the two tribes, while marching toward them, along parallel
lines, were separated from each other. John called Muro’s attention to
this. He replied:
“That is the custom here with all tribes. They will not mix up when on
the march. Each tribe keeps by itself.”
“Why is that?”
“The wise men say the arrows will not go straight.”
Blakely, who heard this conversation, said: “I know just what he means
by that. I got an inkling of that on one occasion. I put it in this way:
They are mighty distrustful, and as a result are compelled to keep an
eye on each other. This prevents them from shooting accurately, or with
care.”
This incident of the two tribes moving side by side conveyed another
meaning, also, to Muro, for he continued, after Blakely concluded:
“The ones over there,” pointing to the left, “are Illyas, I know.”
This was determined, as he afterwards expressed it, because they are
always suspicious, and were never known to mingle with the other tribes.
“But what are they doing in this section of the country?”
“That I do not understand. Maybe to recover captives, or something of
that kind.”
The two bands approached without any expectation of meeting the whites.
That was evident. In any event it would have been impossible for the
wagon to get away, because the country was too open to shield them.
They had only to hope that by some fortune they would not be revealed.
The wagon had been put in position, as stated, in the open, so that such
a party, coming within a quarter of a mile, would be likely to catch
sight of it. The hope of being undiscovered was very faint.
To their delight the party passed along fully that distance away, and
did not show any alarm, but as the last of the column of the Illyas was
passing from sight there was a commotion, and the entire column turned
to face them.
This was the signal for the Kurabus, who filed to the left and danced
about like demons at the sight of the wagon, and the peculiar enclosure
at one side, which was immediately recognized by them.
The occupants of the fort showed no sign. “Keep cool, boys, and fire
steadily, when we once commence. Have all the ammunition in ready reach,
and merely fire and reload. Observe our former method. We must keep the
reserve guns for an emergency.”
The information was imparted to Muro and his companions, and each had a
gun in hand and another by his side, loaded and ready for use. Both had
been instructed daily in the manner of loading and of aiming, but they
had done no firing, owing to the dangerous proximity of their enemies.
Muro and his friend were impatient beyond measure. They had the
opportunity so long craved to attack their bitter enemies.
The Kurabus circled around the wagon to the left and the Illyas to the
right. At a signal there was a shower of arrows, all of which fell
short, but contrary to expectations, did not follow it with a concerted
rush. Instead they advanced nearer, and the second volley of arrows was
sent forth, and some of them found their marks in the fort, and two
struck the wagon.
John saw Muro’s appealing look. The latter pointed to the group of
Illyas, and said: “Chief; see big man, this side.”
John replied: “Can you hit him?”
Muro did not wait for a stronger invitation, and John drew back the
firing hammer for him, and told him to take a careful aim, as he had
been instructed. He did this with the utmost deliberation, in the
coolest and most matter-of-fact way.
He fired. The chief threw up his hands and fell backward, while the
warriors crowded about him and began to set up a demoniacal howl.
“Now, boys, that is a good target to fire into,” muttered John.
“Ready--fire!” Six shots more found their marks in the congested mass.
How many fell it was impossible to say in the confusion produced by the
volley.
“Reload, and be ready for the next.”
The first impulse of the savages was to rush for shelter, and thus left
their dead and wounded where they fell. But the chief’s body was there,
and several rushed forward and recovered him, without molestation on the
part of John.
When the warriors fled they had an opportunity to see the result of the
volley. The six shots had wounded eight, more or less; how many of them
were killed could not be determined at the time.
All the besiegers now withdrew to a safe distance. It was obvious to
them that their arrows were not of sufficient range to compete with the
wonderful weapons possessed by the whites. Several warriors crawled up
to the nearest bunches of shrubbery, and they were permitted to do so,
but when once in their supposed concealed positions were close enough,
so that it was no trouble in reaching them with the guns.
The effect of Muro’s shot was so exhilarating that he danced about the
enclosure with expressions of joy. The boys patted him on the back, and
applauded him for the masterly manner in which he had executed the first
shot.
Two hours passed by, and it did not seem possible that they would
attempt to rush the fort. Considering that there were fully two hundred
warriors about them, such tactics, if pushed with vigor, must have
resulted in the annihilation of the occupants of the fort. But the
savages were wary. The Illyas had now a taste of the same medicine that
the Kurabus had taken to their disgust.
Before evening the two forces disposed themselves around the fort, and
the night set in with a slight shower. Muro chuckled at this, and when
questioned, responded: “Cannot use bows,” and he smiled.
The rain increased, and as there was now no cover for the wagon, all
were drenched. The darkness was intense, and the vigil was a constant
one, occupying the attention of all. Muro stated that neither of the
parties would attempt an attack in that condition, but they must be
alert to resist any daredevils who might approach for the purpose of
picking off one or more of their number.
Shortly after midnight a peculiar voice was heard, calling “John, John.”
They listened. “Did some one call me?” asked John.
“Yes; we heard it!” exclaimed several of the boys.
“John, John,” the voice repeated, and they detected a scratching on the
wall of the fort. John sprang over to the side from which the sound
emanated, and saw a figure crouching close to the ground, alongside of
the fort.
“I am John; what do you want?”
A hand was held up containing an object, and John caught it, and drew it
in. It was something in fabric, and tied with a cord. The darkness was
too intense to distinguish its character, but John cut the cord and a
leaf fell out.
“Here is some news,” he cried. “Get a light quickly.” One of the matches
was produced, and held close to the leaf. The writing could not be
distinguished by the momentary gleam, which shot forth, but the
signature, “Professor,” caught the eye of Harry, who held the match.
“It is from the Professor,” he exclaimed excitedly, and he jumped up and
peered over the top wall, and seeing the object still there, reached
down, and recognized a savage, who held up his hand. Harry grasped it,
and, calling to the others, said: “Help him in.”
The savage made no resistance, but assisted the others to draw him in.
Muro recognized him as one of the Berees, and quickly asked: “Why are
you here?”
“I came from the great White Chief.”
“Where is he?”
[Illustration: _Message on part of a Plaintain leaf. Also showing its
beautiful fibre._
_Fig. 15._]
“Coming from the south, with all my people.”
When this was translated to them the boys were wild with the news.
“Be quiet, boys; make no demonstration. If it is not too wet, strike
another light. There! steady!”
“What does it say?” was the eager question.
“If you are attacked hold out to last extremity. I am coming to your
assistance. The bearer, Sutoto, is our friend.”
Muro questioned him as John propounded the inquiries.
“Did your people capture the White Chief?”
“I took him in the hills to the west of this place.”
“You captured him?”
“Yes; I took him to the chief, and he made the chief’s daughter well.
The chief told us he was a great man, and that he was forever his
friend, and when our warriors came back from the fight he cured them,
but he would not eat, and all our people marveled at this, and believed
him to be a superior being, and the chief imprisoned all our medicine
men.”
“Where is he now?”
“Coming to us with all the warriors of my people, and with the two
purees (boys) which we had.”
“Purees? What does he mean?”
And Muro pointed to the boys.
“How did you get in to us?”
“I was with the people outside when it began to rain, and came up to the
kramin (bush) close to you. I was here long time.”
“George, get Sutoto something to eat; he must be hungry.” And this was
speedily attended to.
When the morning sun arose bright and beautiful it was a welcome relief
to the misery of the night. The boys now had an opportunity to examine
their new friend. They marveled at his youth. But he was evidently well
known to Muro. They talked long and earnestly, and the latter recounted
their experiences.
Chump told him about the wonders of the Cataract house, and of the
remarkable things to be seen there. He looked at the fort and examined
the wagon, and the things possessed a remarkable fascination for him. He
was a second edition of George in the capacity to ask questions.
Muro explained that Sutoto was the fleetest runner in the country, and
his finely shaped limbs and admirable poise of his head was admired by
all. He eyed Blakely for some time, and the latter held out his hand.
Sutoto grasped it, and as they held each other’s hand, said: “I think
you ought to remember me. I was one of your guests for a little time.”
And he laughed, as did Sutoto.
The scene in that wagon for the next few hours was like a reunion of
long-lost friends. The boys admired Sutoto’s manly ways, and even Ralph,
who often said he had no use for any of the devils, admitted that he
would have to change his mind.
While all this drama was being enacted the Professor was hurrying to the
north as fast as the warriors could travel. The Professor suggested that
as they were now approaching the enemy’s country it would be wise to
send out advance guards.
This was a novel proceeding to Ralsea, but he readily assented, and four
of the most skillful were given instructions to keep well ahead and note
every movement. It was most fortunate that this was done for reasons we
shall now see.
Before noon the scouts discovered a lurking savage, and as he was trying
to get away a number of others were sent out, so their movements
radiated out like a fan, and in this manner the fugitive was hemmed in
and finally captured.
He was brought in by the most wildly excited and gesticulating lot of
savages the Professor had ever witnessed. This appeared to be a more
than ordinary event with them, and he could not understand it.
Before they were near he heard the cries of “Osaga, Osaga,” and the
Professor was startled in the belief that they had come up with the band
they were pursuing.
The captive was brought before the Professor, and the moment he looked
at him cried out, “Uraso.” For a moment he was too much affected to
speak. Uraso went up to the Professor and embraced him, and then looked
around at the Berees in astonishment.
Here was the Professor, carried by the Berees, not as a prisoner, but as
an individual in state, with the warriors under his command. He could
not understand the situation.
“Didn’t we treat you right, Uraso?”
“I tried to go back to my people and bring them to you. The Illyas
captured me, and now that they have allied themselves with the Kurabus,
intended to attack and capture you.”
“Have you been with them all this time?”
“No, when they first tried to capture me I was badly wounded, so that
for a long time I could not walk, and when I was well enough, two moons
ago, they did take me.”
“Your people have gone to attack my people in the wagon.”
Osaga could not credit this. His brow darkened, and his anger was
terrible to witness.
Ralsea assured him that such was the case, and then told him that they
had just come from the Osaga village. At this information he grew
indignant, and cast a reproachful glance at the Professor. The sub-chief
quickly informed him of the Professor’s acts, in refusing to permit
anything to be disturbed at the village.
“He is a great chief,” said Uraso, addressing Ralsea. “I saw the
wonderful things he has at his village, and I want him to teach my
people the things they do.”
“You must go with us, Uraso; we must find your warriors before they
attack John and the boys.”
“John, John,” and he repeated over the name again and again. His face
lighted up.
“I will go; my people shall not injure you. We are your friends.”
He was then informed that Muro, the chief of the Saboros, was also with
John.
“Muro? My sister is his wife.” This news made him dance with joy. He
rushed up to the Professor and again embraced him, and then went to
Ralsea and rubbed his nose against him, in token of friendship and peace
between their people.