SAVAGE FEASTS AND ORNAMENTS--MARTIN GROWS DESPERATE, AND MAKES A BOLD
ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE
Hunting and feasting were the chief occupations of the men of the tribe
with whom Martin sojourned. One day Martin was told that a great feast
was to take place, and he was permitted to attend. Accordingly, a little
before the appointed time he hastened to the large hut in and around
which the festivities were to take place, in order to witness the
preparations.
The first thing that struck him was that there seemed to be no
preparations making for eating; and on inquiry he was told that they did
not meet to eat, they met to drink and dance,--those who were hungry
might eat at home.
The preparations for drinking were made on an extensive scale by the
women, a number of whom stood round a large caldron, preparing its
contents for use. These women wore very little clothing, and their
bodies, besides being painted in a fantastic style, were also decorated
with flowers and feathers. Martin could not help feeling that, however
absurd the idea of painting the body was, it had at least the good effect
of doing away to some extent with the idea of nakedness; for the curious
patterns and devices gave to the Indians the appearance of being clothed
in tights,--and, at any rate, he argued mentally, paint was better than
nothing. Some of the flowers were artificially constructed out of
beetles' wings, shells, fish-scales, and feathers, and were exquisitely
beautiful as well as gorgeous.
One of the younger women struck Martin as being ultra-fashionable in her
paint. Her black shining hair hung like a cloak over her reddish-brown
shoulders, and various strange drawings and figures ornamented her face
and breast. On each cheek she had a circle, and over that two strokes;
under the nose were four red spots; from the corners of her mouth to the
middle of each cheek were two parallel lines, and below these several
upright stripes; on various parts of her back and shoulders were
curiously entwined circles, and the form of a snake was depicted in
vermilion down each arm. Unlike the others, she wore no ornament except a
simple necklace of monkeys' teeth. This beauty was particularly active in
manufacturing the intoxicating drink, which is prepared thus:--A quantity
of maize was pounded in the hollow trunk of a tree and put into an
earthen pot, where it was boiled in a large quantity of water. Then the
woman took the coarsely ground and boiled flour out of the water, chewed
it in their mouths for a little, and put it into the pot again! By this
means the decoction began to ferment and became intoxicating. It was a
very disgusting method, yet it is practised by many Indian tribes in
America; and, strange to say, also by some of the South Sea islanders,
who, of course, could not have learned it from these Indians.
When this beverage was ready, the chief, a tall, broad-shouldered man,
whose painted costume and ornaments were most elaborate, stepped up to
the pot and began a strange series of incantations, which he accompanied
by rattling a small wooden instrument in his hand; staring all the time
at the earthen pot, as if he half expected it to run away; and dancing
slowly round it, as if to prevent such a catastrophe from taking place.
The oftener the song was repeated the more solemn and earnest became the
expression of his face and the tones of his voice. The rest of the
Indians, who were assembled to the number of several hundreds, stood
motionless round the pot, staring at him intently without speaking, and
only now and then, when the voice and actions of the chief became much
excited, they gave vent to a sympathetic howl.
After this had gone on for some time, the chief seized a drinking-cup,
or cuja, which he gravely dipped into the pot and took a sip. Then the
shaking of the rattle and the monotonous song began again. The chief
next took a good pull at the cup and emptied it; after which he
presented it to his companions, who helped themselves at pleasure; and
the dance and monotonous music became more furious and noisy the longer
the cup went round.
When the cup had circulated pretty freely among them, their dances and
music became more lively; but they were by no means attractive. After he
had watched them a short time, Martin left the festive scene with a
feeling of pity for the poor savages; and as he thought upon their low
and debased condition he recalled to mind the remark of his old friend
the hermit,--"They want the Bible in Brazil."
During his frequent rambles in the neighbourhood of the Indian village,
Martin discovered many beautiful and retired spots, to which he was in
the habit of going in the evenings after his daily labours were
accomplished, accompanied, as usual, at a respectful distance, by his
vigilant friend the tall savage. One of his favourite resting-places was
at the foot of a banana-tree which grew on the brow of a stupendous cliff
about a mile distant from the hut in which he dwelt. From this spot he
had a commanding view of the noble valley and the distant mountains.
These mountains now seemed to the poor boy to be the ponderous gates of
his beautiful prison; for he had been told by one of his Indian friends
that on the other side of them were great campos and forests, beyond
which dwelt many Portuguese, while still further on was a great lake
without shores, which was the end of the world. This, Martin was
convinced, must be the Atlantic Ocean; for, upon inquiry, he found that
many months of travel must be undergone ere it could be reached.
Moreover, he knew that it could not be the Pacific, because the sun rose
in that direction.
Sauntering away to his favourite cliff, one fine evening towards sunset,
he seated himself beneath the banana-tree and gazed longingly at the
distant mountains, whose sharp summits glittered in the ruddy glow. He
had long racked his brain in order to devise some method of escape, but
hitherto without success. Wherever he went the "shadow" followed him,
armed with the deadly blow-pipe; and he knew that even if he did succeed
in eluding his vigilance and escaping into the woods, hundreds of
savages would turn out and track him, with unerring certainty, to any
hiding-place. Still the strength of his stern determination sustained
him; and, at each failure in his efforts to devise some means of
effecting his purpose, he threw off regret with a deep sigh, and
returned to his labour with a firmer step, assured that he should
eventually succeed.
As he sat there on the edge of the precipice, he said, half aloud, "What
prevents me from darting suddenly on that fellow and knocking him down?"
This was a question that might have been easily answered. No doubt he was
physically capable of coping with the man, for he had now been upwards of
a year in the wilderness, and was in his sixteenth year, besides being
unusually tall and robust for his age. Indeed he looked more like a
full-grown man than a stripling; for hard, incessant toil had developed
his muscles and enlarged his frame, and his stirring life, combined
latterly with anxiety, had stamped a few of the lines of manhood on his
sunburnt countenance. But, although he could have easily overcome the
Indian, he knew that he would be instantly missed; and, from what he had
seen of the powers of the savages in tracking wild animals to their dens
in the mountains, he felt that he could not possibly elude them except by
stratagem.
Perplexed and wearied with unavailing thought and anxiety, Martin pressed
his hands to his forehead and gazed down the perpendicular cliff, which
was elevated fully a hundred feet above the plain below. Suddenly he
started and clasped his hands upon his eyes, as if to shut out some
terrible object from his sight. Then, creeping cautiously towards the
edge of the cliff, he gazed down, while an expression of stern resolution
settled upon his pale face.
And well might Martin's cheek blanch, for he had hit upon a plan of
escape which, to be successful, required that he should twice turn a
bold, unflinching face on death. The precipice, as before mentioned, was
fully a hundred feet high, and quite perpendicular. At the foot of it
there flowed a deep and pretty wide stream, which, just under the spot
where Martin stood, collected in a deep black pool, where it rested for a
moment ere it rushed on its rapid course down the valley. Over the cliff
and into that pool Martin made up his mind to plunge, and so give the
impression that he had fallen over and been drowned. The risk he ran in
taking such a tremendous leap was very great indeed, but that was only
half the danger he must encounter.
The river was one of a remarkable kind, of which there are one or two
instances in South America. It flowed down the valley between high
rocks, and, a few hundred yards below the pool, it ran straight against
the face of a precipice and there terminated to all appearance; but a
gurgling vortex in the deep water at the base of the cliff, and the
disappearance of everything that entered it, showed that the stream
found a subterranean passage. There was no sign of its reappearance,
however, in all the country round. In short, the river was lost in the
bowels of the earth.
From the pool to the cliff where the river was engulfed the water ran
like a mill-race, and there was no spot on either bank where any one
could land, or even grasp with his hand, except one. It was a narrow,
sharp rock, that jutted out about two feet from the bank, quite close to
the vortex of the whirlpool. This rock was Martin's only hope. To miss it
would be certain destruction. But if he should gain a footing on it he
knew that he could climb by a narrow fissure into a wild, cavernous spot,
which it was exceedingly difficult to reach from any other point. A bend
in the river concealed this rock and the vortex from the place whereon he
stood, so that he hoped to be able to reach the point of escape before
the savage could descend the slope and gain the summit of the cliff from
whence it could be seen.
Of all this Martin was well aware, for he had been often at the place
before, and knew every inch of the ground. His chief difficulty would be
to leap over the precipice in such a manner as to cause the Indian to
believe he had fallen over accidentally. If he could accomplish this,
then he felt assured the savages would suppose he had been drowned, and
so make no search for him at all. Fortunately the ground favoured this.
About five feet below the edge of the precipice there was a projecting
ledge of rock nearly four feet broad and covered with shrubs. Upon this
it was necessary to allow himself to fall. The expedient was a desperate
one, and he grew sick at heart as he glanced down the awful cliff, which
seemed to him three times higher than it really was, as all heights do
when seen from above.
Glancing round, he observed his savage guardian gazing contemplatively at
the distant prospect. Martin's heart beat audibly as he rose and walked
with an affectation of carelessness to the edge of the cliff. As he gazed
down, a feeling of horror seized him; he gasped for breath, and almost
fainted. Then the idea of perpetual slavery flashed across his mind, and
the thought of freedom and home nerved him: He clenched his hands,
staggered convulsively forward and fell, with a loud and genuine shriek
of terror, upon the shrubs that covered the rocky ledge. Instantly he
arose, ground his teeth together, raised his eyes for one moment to
heaven, and sprang into the air. For one instant he swept through empty
space; the next he was deep down in the waters of the dark pool, and when
the horrified Indian reached the edge of the precipice, he beheld his
prisoner struggling on the surface for a moment, ere he was swept by the
rapid stream round the point and out of view.
Bounding down the slope, the savage sped like a hunted antelope across
the intervening space between the two cliffs, and quickly gained the brow
of the lower precipice, which he reached just in time to see Martin
Rattler's straw hat dance for a moment on the troubled waters of the
vortex and disappear in the awful abyss. But Martin saw it, too, from the
cleft in the frowning rock.
On reaching the surface after his leap he dashed the water from his eyes
and looked with intense earnestness in the direction of the projecting
rock towards which he was hurried. Down he came upon it with such speed
that he felt no power of man could resist. But there was a small eddy
just below it, into which he was whirled as he stretched forth his hands
and clutched the rock with the energy of despair. He was instantly torn
away. But another small point projected two feet below it. This he
seized. The water swung his feet to and fro as it gushed into the vortex,
but the eddy saved him. In a moment his breast was on the rock, then his
foot, and he sprang into the sheltering cleft just a moment before the
Indian came in view of the scene of his supposed death.
Martin flung himself with his face to the ground, and thought rather than
uttered a heartfelt thanksgiving for his deliverance. The savage carried
the news of his death to his friends in the Indian village, and recounted
with deep solemnity the particulars of his awful fate to crowds of
wondering,--in many cases sorrowing,--listeners; and for many a day after
that, the poor savages were wont to visit the terrible cliff and gaze
with awe on the mysterious vortex that had swallowed up, as they
believed, the fair-haired boy.