The Hideous Village
"Oh!" groaned Bob hopelessly. "Guess it's all up with us."
"No, it isn't," the other youth retorted. "You remember what we said
to do in such an emergency, don't you? Act extremely exhausted, as if
we couldn't move another foot. Lie on the ground--do anything to make
them feel sorry for us. They will if the thing is carried out right."
The cries were gradually getting louder, indicating that the Indians
were coming closer. Occasionally some savage would chant louder than
the others, and then there would be a grand chorus of shouts and
yells.
"They're getting nearer," muttered Joe. "Come on, let's lie on the
ground. Act as if you're half dead."
The youths threw themselves on the soft grass and awaited
developments.
They had not long to wait.
A figure burst into view from around a bend in the trail. Another,
followed by fully twenty other savages, their gruesome faces showing
surprise and bewilderment at sight of the youths.
Who were these persons--persons of a strange color? Were they enemies?
Were they on the ground waiting for a chance to kill? What was that
strange long thing that was beside them? What were they doing here?
Had they been sent down from the sky to bring destruction to villages,
or had they wandered from an unknown region in the remote beyond?
For fully ten minutes the savages were silent. Then they began
chattering loudly and moved stealthily up to the boys, bows and arrows
and blowguns in readiness.
Bob and Joe waited in terrible suspense, half expecting to be pierced
by deadly weapons. The youths longed to move about, if only for a
moment. Once Joe felt an itching along his back, and the desire to
scratch was almost uncontrollable, but he finally managed to remain
quiet.
An Indian that was evidently the chief felt of the boys' bodies and
limbs carefully, while his men looked on, ready to send an arrow at
once if necessary. At last, after feeling the beating of the boys'
hearts, the native regained his feet and conversed with the others.
Then Bob and Joe were picked up by strong arms and carried through the
jungle.
Where would they be taken? What was to be their fate? Could they gain
the friendship of the savages? These questions were in the youths'
minds as they were being carried along the trail.
"Maybe they're going to put us in boiling water," thought Joe, and he
shuddered in spite of himself. "But then," he finally reasoned, "they
probably won't do that. After all, very few tribes are cannibalistic."
How long the tramp continued, Bob and Joe did not know, but at last,
after what seemed several hours, they came to a spot where the path
broadened into twice the original width, and a few minutes later they
parted the bushes and came to a large native village, where at least
sixty wild Indians were walking about. At sight of the warriors and
their burdens the Indians rushed forward and crowded around, their
eagerness to get a view of the strange people resembling that of
small children at a circus.
There was a turmoil of excited chattering, in which everyone took
part. Questions flew thick and fast, and it was all the warriors could
do to answer them.
Bob and Joe were placed in one of the native huts and for a short time
left to themselves. There was a crude door at the entrance, and this
was shut to keep out the curious.
Then for the first time they opened their eyes and looked about.
"We're in a fairly large hut," whispered Bob, glancing about. "And
there are several pieces of furniture to keep us company. Over there
is a kind of a table, laden down with pots and---- Hurrah! There's our
rifle. What do you know about that!"
"They're certainly generous," admitted Joe. "It's a wonder they didn't
take it and start pulling the trigger, which would no doubt have
resulted in five or ten of them getting their brains blown out."
"But now," mused Bob, "what do you think? What'll they do with us?"
"I don't happen to know," was the response. "But we'll----"
He ceased abruptly, as he noticed that the door was opening. The
youths took a sitting position and tried to act as innocent as they
could.
A second later the chief entered, followed by ten others. They stopped
short when they noticed that the boys were sitting up, and stared in
wonder.
Bob and Joe threw their hands apart in a gesture of helplessness and
smiled gratefully. Bob beckoned the men to come in the hut.
They stood undecidedly at first, but finally, convinced that these
strangers meant no harm, moved on in the dwelling.
Then the boys did all they could to convey the idea that they were
thankful to the Indians for saving them from death from exhaustion,
and in the end it looked as if they had succeeded. Not until the big
chief smiled, however, did they feel secure, for there were grim looks
on the faces of all the savages. But when the chief showed his teeth
in friendship, the youths felt that the battle was won. With the head
native on their side things looked a great deal brighter.
"Now for something to eat," said Bob to his chum. "I'm not particular
what it is, just so it's nourishing."
He put his hands to his mouth, and began working his jaws as if
chewing. Then he imitated drinking. The chief understood, and he gave
directions to one of his men, who dashed off to another part of the
village.
Meanwhile the others stood gazing at the youths, who in their
sun-tanned condition were scarcely less dark than the Indians
themselves.
In a short time the Indian returned with plates and pots of food,
which he placed on the ground beside them.
"Do you suppose the stuff's all right?" asked Joe, hesitating to begin
eating.
"Don't know why it wouldn't be," Bob returned. "Why should they poison
us? At present we're too much of a curiosity to kill. They'll at least
wait for the novelty to wear off."
The food tasted good despite the fact that the boys were ignorant as
to what it was. They ate heartily, and in a very short time their
strength was restored.
Then by signs they asked permission to walk around the village. At
first the natives hesitated, but at last the chief nodded in approval,
and the youths got to their feet.
"If we could just speak some of their language," said Bob, as they
went out of the thatched house.
"Be easy then," affirmed Joe. "But maybe we can get them to take us to
the river, and then Professor Bigelow can talk with them."
The chief led the way around the settlement, pointing with pride to
many articles that were the results of the Indians' handiwork. Many
objects were totally new to the boys, and they viewed them with
interest. But when they came to one large hut they saw something that
turned their blood cold with horror.
Hanging thickly on the walls were scores of dried human heads, their
features perfectly preserved. In fact the ghastly trophies were so
thick that there were no cracks between them.
Bob and Joe glanced around the room in terrible awe. Suddenly, as they
turned about, their eyes fell on something that again caused them to
be horror-stricken, this time more than before.
Near the corner were two heads that were--white!
"Explorers," breathed Bob, rather nervously. "Or were they
missionaries? At any rate these heads were those of white men--and
they've been killed for their heads!"
The youths felt fairly sick, and once Joe reeled as if to fall. But he
got a grip on himself and resolved to take matters as they were. At
present they were in no danger. The terrible and yet genial chief
seemed to be their friend. But how soon his lust to kill would come to
the surface they did not know.
They spent no more time at the horrible trophy house, for it contained
such things as one might see in a nightmare. Bob and Joe made up their
minds to seek out something more pleasant.
They found it in a large board that had lines crossing and
crisscrossing from one side to the other. The chief got out a box and
took out several wooden pegs, which he placed in the spaces on the
board. He moved them back and forth and laughed.
"Must be some kind of a game," concluded Bob, thoroughly interested.
The boys spent several hours in touring the village, and although they
were constantly enfolded by the crowd of curious savages, they
enjoyed the experience. It was unique and different, but they felt
some repulsion for the various activities carried on by these heathen
people.
"All right for a visit," mused Joe, "but I don't think I'd care to
live here."
"I'd feel a whole lot safer back in the boats with our dads and the
professor," said Bob, as he thought of the hideous dried human heads.
"Still," he went on, "I suppose we should do all we can to help
Professor Bigelow. Here is a chance for him to get plenty of
information of the kind that he wants most."
Late that afternoon Bob and Joe took the rifle and, motioning for the
chief to follow, started into the jungle just back of the village.
They intended to give the native a real surprise and thrill, such as
he had never before had.
At last he went with them, probably wondering what the strange whites
had in mind, but willing to find out.
"Maybe we can show him how to kill a jaguar," said Joe, keeping a
sharp watch over the forest.
No game was in the immediate vicinity of the village, owing to the
frequent hunting trips made by the savages. But when they had gone
several miles there came fresh signs that wild creatures were close
by.
Suddenly they caught sight of a large tapir rooting in the tall grass.
Bob took the rifle and, motioning to the Indian, he pointed to the gun
and then to the animal.
A moment later he pulled the trigger.
At the report of the weapon the big Indian jumped in fright and was on
the verge of running back to the village, when Bob pointed again to
the gun and then to the tapir, which was now dead. Then for the first
time the chief caught the meaning, and he looked at the boys with
something like worship in his eyes.
What strange magic was this? A long thing that spouted fire had killed
a tapir instantly, without a struggle. These people must be gods.
From that moment on, the chief's friendship for the youths increased
to devotion, which at times promised to be embarrassing. But Bob and
Joe did not care. This would be all the better opportunity for
Professor Bigelow to secure information on the savages' daily life and
customs.
The three hunters trudged on farther, hoping to stir up more game.
The boys wished particularly to get a shot at a jaguar, so that the
power of the gun could be demonstrated still further.
"The old boy'd just about throw a fit if he saw the rifle pot off the
king of Brazilian wild beasts," smiled Joe.
At last they burst through a thick mass of vegetation and found
themselves on the bank of a small stream.
At once Bob and Joe were wild with delight, for this stream evidently
was a tributary of the river. And the river was what they wanted to
find above all else.
"Hurrah!" cried Joe, overwhelmed with delight. "We've as good as found
our party already!"