INDIANS?
“What can be the matter?” was the exclamation that burst from the
professor’s lips.
“Something serious,” declared Mr. Tubbs. “Take a rifle and we’ll find
out.”
Hastily selecting a weapon each, the two friends plunged into the
forest in the direction from whence the shots had come.
“It’s ahead there, somewhere!” panted the professor, as the sound of a
mighty threshing and struggling amidst the undergrowth came to their
ears.
Neither the professor nor Mr. Tubbs was in the least faint-hearted, but
they crept through the forest with some caution. If the boys had been
attacked by enemies, they reasoned the best thing to do would be to
give their foes no opportunity of observing the approach of
re-enforcements.
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[Illustration: They came on a scene that, for an instant, almost
deprived them of their breath.]
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But, as the noise grew louder, they hesitated no longer, but pressed
right on. Suddenly, on emerging into an open space where the growth had
been flattened out in every direction, they came on a scene that, for
an instant, almost deprived them of their breath.
In the midst of the open space, Nat and Joe were bending over the form
of Ding-dong, who was stretched on the ground, seemingly unconscious.
Not far off, an immense snake, which must have been fully fifteen feet
long, was lashing wildly about in its death agonies.
“Oh, professor!” cried Nat, as he saw the newcomers, “we’re so glad you
have come. Ding-dong was attacked by that serpent and badly crushed. It
was only by firing at the creature that we managed to save his life.”
“Is he badly hurt?” choked out Joe anxiously.
The professor, who had been bending over the unconscious lad, shook his
head.
“Merely shock, and possibly a sudden weakening of the heart,” he said.
Taking a small vial from a pocket medicine-case, the professor forced
some of its contents between Ding-dong’s lips. In a few moments the boy
was able to sit up and take notice of things about him.
By this time the convulsive dying movements of the snake had ceased,
and it lay still.
“Ugh! What a monster!” shuddered Ding-dong. “I can feel his terrible
folds around me yet.”
As usual, when under the stress of emotion, Ding-dong’s hesitating
manner of speech had left him, and he enunciated quite plainly.
“How did it happen?” asked the professor.
“I was looking for wood,” explained Ding-dong, “and thought I had found
a f-f-f-fi-fine c-c-chunk of timber. But w-w-when I pu-pu-put my hand
on it, the ber-ber-blessed thing turned out to be a snake. I yelled at
the top of my voice, and started to run, but before I had gone far I
tripped and fell. The n-n-n-n-next instant the snake had me.”
“Joe and I were a short distance off,” chimed in Nat, taking up the
story, “and heard Ding-dong’s yell. We hurried to him, and you can
imagine how horrified we were to see him struggling with that serpent.
Joe raised his rifle, but then lowered it again. He was scared to shoot
at the snake for fear of hitting Ding-dong. But at last we saw a
chance. I fired once and Joe twice.”
“And all three bullets penetrated the brute in and about the head,”
struck in Mr. Tubbs, who had been examining the snake.
“So they did,” declared the professor, as he and the boys joined the
ruddy-headed one; “good shooting, boys. This snake is of the boa
variety. They are common all along this coast, but usually they are
thickest near rivers. As a rule, they will not attack human beings,
although cases have been recorded of their doing so. I imagine that it
was Master Bell’s having grabbed him that angered his snakeship. Shall
we take the skin for a souvenir?”
“N-n-n-no, thank you,” stuttered Ding-dong, “it will be no trouble to
re-re-remember that f-f-f-fellow without having to l-l-l-look at his
skin.”
“I agree with you,” said Mr. Tubbs. “I guess we’ll leave him here for a
while. It won’t be long before some animal or other makes away with it.”
Leaving the repulsive looking carcass on the ground, they set out to
return to the _Discoverer_.
“Well, all is well that ends well,” said the professor, as they tramped
along; “at first I had a dreadful fear that you lads had been attacked
by Indians.”
“Indians!” exclaimed Nat. “Are there Indians in this part of Bolivia?”
“Oh, yes; several tribes,” was the rejoinder.
“Are they savage?” inquired Joe.
“I am sorry to say that they are. In other parts some of the natives
have been converted to Christianity, but the natives of this section
are fierce and warlike. I hope we shall manage to steer clear of them.”
“What is the tribe called?” asked Nat.
“They are known as the Caripunas,” was the rejoinder. “The early
Jesuits had much trouble with them, and they have ever since remained
in a more or less wild and hostile state. They are very much averse to
having any one enter their country, and that was one of the minor
reasons why this trip was made by means of the dirigible.”
“Their country!” echoed Joe. “I should think the Bolivian government
would send a regiment up here and subdue the rascals.”
“Several such expeditions have been despatched,” was the response, “but
the fate of all has been the same. Several months after their departure
the remainder of the force has come straggling home, more dead than
alive, to tell a tale of death and defeat.”
“But how can Indians cope with civilized troops?” Nat wanted to know.
“For one thing, they are inured to the hardships of the forest,”
rejoined the professor; “for another, these Bolivian Indians wage war
with poisoned arrows shot from long blow guns. A man usually dies in a
few minutes after such an arrow has struck him, unless medical
attention is at hand. Armed with these weapons, the Indians creep up on
their foes and noiselessly decimate an entire force. It is in this way
that the Indians have managed to reserve this part of the country for
themselves and keep the hated white man out of it.”
The boys looked rather grave as they continued their tramp back to the
_Discoverer_.
“Looks to me as if we were in for a more exciting time than we
bargained for,” observed Nat to Joe.
“I guess you are right,” rejoined Joe. “A battle with Indians who
employ such deadly weapons does not appeal to me.”
“Oh, I guess we’ll get through without trouble,” exclaimed Nat. “At any
rate, if we are attacked, we can climb aboard the good old _Discoverer_
and soon be out of range.”
“That’s so,” agreed Joe, and the lads dismissed the matter from their
minds; but whether Nat’s surmise was correct or not, we shall see in
due time.