THE MYSTERIES OF THE PRIMEVAL FOREST
Chéri-bibi and the Nut had taken a serious step in entering the
primeval forest. How many convicts who had escaped and sought refuge in
it had found death; death in its most terrible form? They must needs
struggle against all and everything--hunger, fever, wild beasts and men.
It sometimes happened that men who were engaged in clearing a new part
of the forest came upon partly devoured remains of human bodies. That
was all that was left of an escape which had created some sensation at
the time of its occurrence.
None but a very old jail-bird regards the forest as a friend who would
defend and keep him. As we have said, more than one convict, weary of
its savage life, returned and gave himself up as a prisoner.
Nevertheless Chéri-Bibi said to the Nut:
"I know my forest. They can send every warder in the colony after us. I
defy them to capture us."
In order to keep back for a while the men who were pursuing them, he had
simply set fire to a great accumulation of trees of all sizes and
species which had been felled by the ax some months previously, and
which the burning hot tropical sun had entirely dried up. This mass
became in a few minutes like a gigantic furnace, which spread the blaze
to an entire quarter of the living forest, so that, perceiving the
extent of the conflagration, the Nut anxiously inquired if they would
not themselves fall victims to their own method of defense.
The wind which had arisen when darkness fell blew north and north-west,
and drove the flames towards Cayenne. The Nut, feeling instinctively
that animals were fleeing in the opposite direction, that is to say with
the wind behind them, tried to persuade Chéri-Bibi to turn towards the
north-east; but he stopped him with a word.
"That way we are bound to meet warders who must be preparing to bar our
passage. Do as I say, and don't let's leave the fire."
The Nut did as he said, thinking to himself that though they were almost
certain, of course, to avoid the warders by fleeing in this direction,
they ran considerable risk of being roasted alive. As a matter of fact
they felt that the greatest heat from the furnace was behind them.
Now they cut a caper.
"That's done it; we're saved," exclaimed Chéri-Bibi. And he pointed
through the tropical climbers which were already beginning to crackle
around them, to the crimson waters of a river.
"The river . . . the Kourou river!"
A few minutes later they swam across it.
"Look out for alligators!" cried Chéri-Bibi, and then immediately
afterwards sinking his voice: "Under water. . . . Put your mug under
water. . . . Warders about! . . . I prefer alligators."
At that moment a launch filled with warders sent in pursuit of them,
hove in sight at the bend of the river.
Hiding themselves in the thick of a mass of reeds and aquatic plants,
Chéri-Bibi and the Nut were obliged repeatedly to dive to avoid being
seen in the dazzling light of the conflagration, for the giant trees of
the ages-old forest seemed like prodigious candles uniting heaven and
earth in one glow and one illumination.
"Go ahead!" ordered the petty officer, and the launch speeded up the
river against the tide, and finally disappeared from view.
Chéri-Bibi and the Nut felt fairly certain that they had now thrown the
warders off the scent, for obviously they still believed that the two
men were at some point on the opposite bank of the river. Thus they
landed on the right bank, and leaving both the river and sea behind
them, plunged boldly into the heart of the jungle.
Chéri-Bibi seemed to be following some well thought-out plan, for he
interrupted their journey from time to time to take his bearings. Their
progress, moreover, had become extremely difficult, and the Nut made the
suggestion that they might now call a halt for a little sleep, and set
out again the next day.
Under the canopy of the high forest trees and in the dense entanglement
of creepers and parasitical vegetation of all sorts, they forged their
way in murky darkness.
"Have you anything to light a fire with?" said Chéri-Bibi in answer to
the Nut's proposal. "No, of course you haven't. Well, I've got three
matches left, and I needn't tell you that after our dip in the river
they won't light, so what then, old man? To go to sleep at night in the
forest without having a fire beside you is to stand a pretty good chance
of waking up in the jaws of a jaguar. Come on. We'll have a sleep during
the day."
Thus they moved on for the remainder of the night, conscious that if
they stopped to lie down they would close their eyes in utter
prostration.
Chéri-Bibi sought to encourage the Nut by telling him stupendous
stories of the jungle, so stupendous, in fact, that the Nut had some
difficulty in believing them. What strange tragedies and what legends of
mysterious and fabulous fortunes were associated with the gold-diggers!
. . . Meantime they were almost naked, and each carried a knife as his
sole weapon.
"As we've been walking for such a time, it can't be long now before we
come to the Pupa," said Chéri-Bibi.
"What's the Pupa?"
"It's a small river which flows into the Cayenne, and, of course, it
bars our route. We are bound to come up against it whether we go a
little farther one way or the other. So when we get there we shall be
able to see how we stand."
The Nut's feet were bleeding. He would have liked to take off the rough
shoes which were the regulation shoes served out by the Penitentiary
Administration; but Chéri-Bibi set his face against it.
"We're going through a forest which is full of rattlesnakes, old man,
and nothing is more poisonous than those reptiles. One bite is enough!
Make as much noise as you can as we go along so as to drive them
away--and keep your shoes on!"
They frequently used their knives to cut a path through the inextricable
tangle of undergrowth, and they made two staffs for themselves,
veritable boar spears, from a wood as hard as iron, called gun wood. As
they proceeded they beat the thickets right and left, and often heard
the spring of some wild animal as it took itself off in the darkness. At
length dawn suddenly broke.
Chéri-Bibi started to run. The Nut heard him shouting:
"The Pupa! . . . The Pupa!"
He managed to drag himself so far and dropped, at the end of his
endurance, before a stream whose cool waters lapped the clear rocks.
Chéri-Bibi lay flat with his face in the water drinking . . . drinking.
The Nut bent down and drank out of the same cup; and afterwards both
slept a dreamless sleep in the shade of the branches which overhung this
enchanting stream.
So overcome were they by sleep and exhaustion that they did not hear the
approach of four men somewhat noisily descending the bank of the river
which they too were longing to reach. When their eyes fell on
Chéri-Bibi and the Nut, the four men stopped with one accord. It was
the Parisian, the Burglar, the Caid and the Joker.
The delight of the four miscreants, when they saw before them, at their
mercy, the two beings whom they most hated in the world, knew no bounds.
They were armed with axes which they had seized together with some
food--already consumed, however--as they passed through a woodcutting
establishment near Kourou.
They had but to lift their arms and strike; and already the Parisian was
shaking his ax in the air and staring at the Nut with a look in his eyes
in which the craving for murder had already sent the blood. But the
Joker who had the coolest head among the gang, agreed with the Burglar,
who was the most cunning, that it was a matter that demanded
consideration. They dragged the Parisian and the Caid away, and there
was a council of war.
The result of the discussion was that the four convicts put off for a
while their treacherous attack. The Joker's line of argument was,
moreover, entirely convincing. It was no secret, he said, that
Chéri-Bibi possessed at some spot in the forest a hiding-place in which
he must certainly have taken the precaution, during his earlier
expeditions, to collect together such things as provisions and so forth
to prevent himself from dying of starvation. From all appearance the two
scantily dressed men, who lay overwhelmed with sleep, and defenseless,
had not yet reached any of those hiding-places. Would it not be better,
before disposing of them, to wait until they themselves had betrayed
their hoard to the men who, like the Parisian, the Burglar, the Caid,
and the Joker, stood most in need of it?
Having made up their minds, they retraced their steps slightly towards
the north so as to be behind the two men when they resumed their
journey. But they kept to the banks of the Pupa, which were obviously
some sort of guide to Chéri-Bibi.
As a matter of fact, when Chéri-Bibi woke up, he first took his
bearings, and then roused the Nut from his heavy slumber, and both
followed the river bank, making for the south-west.
The Parisian and his gang did not lose sight of their movements. And
they had the satisfaction of seeing Chéri-Bibi halt at the foot of a
tall tree, lift a boulder, and dig the earth underneath with the point
of his wooden spear. The Nut lent him a hand. They seemed to work with
growing excitement. To those who were watching the scene, there could
not be the shadow of a doubt that at that spot stood the hiding-place in
which their treasure was concealed.
At last Chéri-Bibi stooped forward and after rummaging in the earth
began to pass sundry articles to the Nut.
The Burglar, who knew how to steal through the forest without making a
twig crackle just as he knew, in Paris, how to move about a flat at
night without stumbling against the furniture, had crept forward pretty
close to the two men without arousing suspicion, and was eagerly
watching the scene. To begin with, the hiding-place contained a kit-bag
full of articles which were of prime necessity. The Burglar heard
Chéri-Bibi enumerate them in a hoarse voice: a compass, a small
lantern, a saw, some tins of preserved meat, spices, two bottles of rum,
a pocket-lighter and tinder, and an iron box containing identity papers
which would enable a convict to return to France as an honest man.
"There are several honest men in that box," said Chéri-Bibi, with a
grunt of satisfaction. "You will be able to make your choice."
Then there was a bottle filled with a brownish liquid. It was an
antidote to the stings of snakes.
Chéri-Bibi had thought of everything; but undoubtedly the prize of the
collection was a large box from which he drew forth two hatchets for
felling trees, a rifle, a revolver, some ammunition and three dynamite
cartridges.
"It's all in first-rate condition, because I took the precaution of
covering the kit-bag and the box with a thick layer of bully-tree gum,"
observed Chéri-Bibi.
The Nut did not know how to express his delight. He burst into laughter.
For the first time since he had been in the penal settlement he laughed.
He had no suspicion, unhappy man, that not far away from him a pair of
eyes were fastened on those treasures and gleaming with covetousness.
Had the Burglar's three confederates been with him, possibly he might
not have wavered but fallen upon the two friends before they were in
possession of their weapons. Possibly--because Chéri-Bibi and the Nut,
even unarmed, were men to be feared.
They had by this time satisfied their hunger from a tin of preserved
meat, and Chéri-Bibi slung his rifle on his shoulder ready to set out
for the chase.
"Sharpen your teeth," he said; "I'm going to have a look round for your
dinner, and I can assure you that there won't be such a spread even at
the Commandant's table. But let's do a little fishing to start with."
"Are you going shooting and fishing at the same time?" inquired the Nut,
who since he had seen the good things at their disposal had forgotten
his troubles and was as light-hearted as a child.
"You'll soon see how I do my fishing," returned Chéri-Bibi.
He went up to the river bank and, handing his rifle to the Nut, took
from his precious kit-bag, which he had flung over his shoulders, a
dynamite cartridge. A minute later the cartridge exploded in the river,
and straightway dozens of fish, both big and small, floated on the
seething waters, belly upwards.
"Well, what do you say to some fried fish?"
"I'm sorry we've got rid of a dynamite cartridge. We've only two left."
"That's more than we shall want," returned Chéri-Bibi. "What's the use
of them if not for fishing? In the old days, when I amused myself by
going prospecting for gold in the forest, they came in handy, but now
I've no need of them, and I'll tell you why after dinner."
Chéri-Bibi began shooting, and had the good fortune to "bring down" a
tapir and a partridge. The partridge was the size of a chicken and the
tapir as big as a pony. In South America the flesh of the tapir is
considered one of the best among red meats; and with the fish which they
picked up on the surface of the water after the explosion of their
dynamite cartridge, their dinner could not fail to be an appetizing one.
They pitched their camp some three hundred feet from the Pupa under a
great forest tree, dug a hole, lighted a fire, and when the hole grew as
hot as an oven, slipped the skinned carcass of the tapir into it.
They ate their fill and drank the river water with a dash of rum in it.
At the finish Chéri-Bibi fished out of his bag some tobacco and they
smoked and chatted in great good humor.
The Nut regarded their mode of existence as perfect, and declared that
he could not understand the conduct of those escaped convicts who,
having had the unexpected good fortune to reach the forest, returned and
surrendered themselves as prisoners. Chéri-Bibi as he listened to him
gave a peculiar smile.
Night was coming on. An impressive silence reigned over the face of all
living things.
"Well," said Chéri-Bibi, speaking in an undertone as if he feared to be
overheard by the very trees. "Well, I, who love the forest, I tell you
that I cannot look upon it without a tremor, and particularly during
those hours, like the present, when it ceases to breathe. Its silence
terrifies me. . . . I've never been afraid of but two things--my knife
for others and the forest for myself. For the forest is like
myself. . . . Sometimes it wants to do good, and it is at those moments
that it slays. The forest is something like my elder sister. . . . I
love it very much and it loves me very much, and yet it would make an
end of me as it would make an end of anyone else, because when one is
born to commit murder there's no way out of it. Some crime is on foot at
the moment when one least suspects it. Be on your guard. You must never
take any risks. The forest is full of mysteries; full of fumes which
kill; of plants and animals which carry death in their breath. And then
there are other things besides plants and animals. . . . There,
listen . . ." snorted Chéri-Bibi, as he grasped his rifle and peered
into the gloom behind the Nut. "Didn't you hear?"
"No. . . . What was it?"
"A man's breathing."
Chéri-Bibi remained standing for several minutes with his ears pricked
up listening to the sounds of the forest, and then he came back and
seated himself again beside the fire and threw ashes over it.
"I assure you," he said, sinking his voice, "that something was
breathing not very far away from us, and that something was a man.
Perhaps it was a medicine-man who was passing and came up to have a look
at us. In any case, let's put out the fire, which throws too much light
around, and use the lantern. That will be enough to drive away wild
animals, while a big fire, you know, attracts any man who may be in the
neighborhood. . . . So you didn't hear anything? No, you can't tell.
Sure enough, there's only one wizard who would come so near. It's a pity
that Yoyo isn't here."
"Who or what's Yoyo?"
"Yoyo is undoubtedly the chief magician or medicine-man of the forest.
He's the man who taught me a thing or two! He has a cure for everything.
He can drive away evil spirits. . . . And he gave me the antidote for
the stings of snakes. I'll introduce you to him in three or four days'
march from her. He's an Indian who comes from the Emmerillons, and he
and his family just managed to escape being eaten by a savage tribe--the
Roncouyennes."
"Even though he's a magician?"
"Oh, in those days he was only an apprentice magician. He hadn't passed
his examinations!"
"Do magicians have to pass examinations?"
"The Indians about here call their medicine-men _piayes._ A goodly
number of them claim to be _piayes_, but if they are not the real
article they do not impose on anyone. There are certain recognized tests
by which it is impossible to mistake a genuine _piaye._ Such a man knows
how at a given time to make a tiger or jaguar obey him. You must
understand that these men are familiar with every scent and plant, and
the peculiar detritus with which they have to sow the track of these
animals in order to make them come to the place to which they wish them
to come."
"Is Yoyo a friend?"
"A very great friend. It was I who saved him from death. And ever since
then he and his brothers have worked for me in a secret place in the
forest. A great quantity of gold is stored in that place; more gold,
perhaps, than you would be able to carry away with you."
Chéri-Bibi mounted guard during the night and looked after the Nut as
though he were a child. He managed to rig him up a crude sort of hammock
by twisting together a number of creepers and suspending them to a tree.
It served to protect the Nut from the excruciating stings of the
innumerable ants which constitute the mortal plague of Guiana at night
time. Next morning the Nut could not be sufficiently grateful, nor did
he know how to express the feelings of friendship with which his heart
was overflowing. He was quite at a loss.
"Never mind about that," said Chéri-Bibi, as they broke camp. "That's a
matter between me and the good Lord. He has been rather hard upon me,
and we have not always got on well together. But the good Lord allowed
you to cross my path, and I am thankful for it. You know that in my
particular sphere of life, one doesn't come across a mug like yours
every day. Yours is not the mug of a bad lot. That's all. I like you
because I've often seen you grieving and calling out for your mother
like a kid, and because you're a white man, with the soul of a priest.
You give me peace, in fact. Enough, we'll say no more about it. . . .
And then you must know one thing, old man--everything that I have is
yours. My life, my gold--everything. My life will be useful to you here,
and my gold will be useful to you in Europe. I have a fair quantity of
it. . . .
"Yoyo alone knows where I keep it. We must continue our way day and
night. I shan't be easy in my mind until we meet Yoyo. The other
medicine-men are afraid of him, and the redskins from Taheca to
Paramacuas obey him. Yoloch, the native devil, and Goudon, the native
god, are devoted to him. He rules the forest."
"Where is Yoyo?" asked the Nut.
"In a part of the forest which very few people except his family and
myself know, I promise you. . . . However, nearly every Sunday he comes
to do a little marketing at Sanda's bar and store in the village where
the gold-diggers live."
They pushed rapidly forward during the next two days and nights. Every
now and then they met natives, who greeted them with the usual
civilities but kept their distance.
"_Hodeo._" ("Good day.")
"_Akonno, Feî-de-ba?_" ("Thank you, how are you?")
"_Li vacca bouilleba._" ("Traveling is pleasant, thanks be to Heaven.")
"_Diafonno._" ("May your journey continue prosperous!")
Sometimes they encountered natives who were able to speak French fairly
well. The Nut could not help expressing his astonishment.
"They mix in high circles, my dear fellow," explained Chéri-Bibi.
"They're regular frequenters of the wood-cutting establishments and the
penal settlements on the coast. Yoyo speaks French as well as you or I."
Other natives jabbered a mixture of French and Pupian which was not
without its humor.
"How _lifika?_ (How are things?")
The Nut asked Chéri-Bibi if it were true, as was declared, that certain
tribes in Guiana practiced cannibalism.
Chéri-Bibi nodded his head.
"There are some. There are not many, but there are a few when the
opportunity for a good 'feast' offers itself--you follow me--and we
can't bear them any grudge for it. From what I hear, it's not so very
bad. . . . In general, the natives are quite decent sorts if the
medicine-men do not egg them on. But there are tribes who work only with
these 'feasts' in view. They don't live in these parts, but much farther
away, near Pelzgoudars. Yoyo told me that in that district you must take
no risks. . . . Those people are fond of tasty dishes!"
"What about the terrible tribe of Oyaricoulets?"
"I can tell you that I've never seen the tribe of Oyaricoulets, and I
really believe that those who talk the most about them haven't seen them
any more than I have. Still, one can never tell. The jungle is a world
to itself, and we must never be astonished at anything. The story runs
that these people have big ears resembling the ears of donkeys, and
enormously long legs. They're giants, in fact. They climb trees like
monkeys. They are said to be armed with bows as big as my arm, which
carry an incredible distance, and of course they 'eat' the stranger
within their gates. It's said, too, that they have noses as big as a
macaw's beak. Stuff and nonsense!"
About eleven o'clock on their third night, Chéri-Bibi fell asleep,
utterly done up, and the Nut was mounting guard. With rifle in hand he
listened to the weird night noises of the forest, and often he gave a
start, imagining that he heard a stirring in the underwood, and even, as
Chéri-Bibi said, a man's breathing.
Once or twice he got up to make a tour of the camp, stopping with ears
on the alert, and taking a step forward only with the greatest caution.
Chéri-Bibi's stories of forest witchcraft were like an obsession on his
restless mind.
Several times he stared into the darkness ready to fire; and then he
laughed at his childish fears and came back and sat down beside
Chéri-Bibi.
Nearly an hour passed in this way. Suddenly there was a very distinct
creaking, as of some body bearing down upon making its way through the
undergrowth. And then he caught a sigh--it was very distinctly a breath,
for it was something more than a sigh--like a human whisper.
The Nut shook Chéri-Bibi who, however, slept on. He reproached himself
for trying to awaken him from his heavy slumber; and so as to make sure
that he was not the victim of his over-excited nerves, he stole, with
rifle at the ready, towards the sound which he fancied he had heard.
The noise was repeated, but it seemed to be moving away.
The Nut went forward boldly, and suddenly emerged into a small clearing,
in the center of which was a native on his knees with arms upraised in
the shining moon, sighing and, seemingly, giving himself up to
infinitely sad incantations.
It was an Indian clad simply in the skin of a carnivora. His face was
curiously tattooed, while his long hair was parted in the middle. His
eyes gleamed in the dusk like the luminous eyes of an animal while he
sobbed forth his muffled and singular litany wherein ever and anon
occurred the refrain: "Galatha! Galatha! Galatha!"
He failed to perceive the Nut, who stood hidden behind a tree. "That's a
magician, a _piaye_, who is calling upon Yoloch or Goudon," said the Nut
to himself. But he had no desire to break in upon the man's
supplications.
Suddenly the _piaye_ was surrounded by a band of infuriated redskins,
whose leaping shadows appeared enormous to the Nut and filled him with
affright. They seemed to be bounding as high as the trees, and the play
of the moonlight through the branches lent itself to the fancies of a
man who had been listening all day to exciting and fantastic stories of
the forest.
He fled, convinced that he had seen the Oyaricoulets, and he gave no
rest to Chéri-Bibi until he allowed himself to be dragged away still
half asleep. At last when he was entirely awake in the early morning,
and the dreaded country was left far behind, he said:
"Tell me what you saw."
"I saw the Oyaricoulets."
"But what else?"
"They were preparing to commit every sort of crime, and dancing like
madmen round a magician who broke forth into frightful lamentations,
crying 'Galatha! Galatha!'"
"Well, it was some poor man who was mourning the death of his wife, his
_galatha._ And you were witnessing a sort of mass for the repose of her
soul. . . . May Goudon protect her and defend us from Yoloch! It takes
very little to astonish you."
During the remainder of the day Chéri-Bibi gave particular attention to
the physical features of the country through which they were passing. In
the afternoon his face lit up with a smile; and the Nut surmised that
all was as well as well could be with them.
They left the Pupa and were following the course of another river which
flowed towards the north-east. Strangely enough the forest was no longer
inimical to them. Everything, on the contrary, seemed to assist them in
their purpose. They came across a path which enabled them to cover a
considerable tract of ground without unduly fatiguing themselves.
At last, in the evening, they reached the top of a wooded height, from
which Chéri-Bibi could point out to the Nut the gold diggings and the
village in which the prospectors lived.