THE HOME OF THE LINKS
Filled with strange sensations, thus to find myself in the midst of a
company so extraordinary, I kept my appointed place in the march,
looking about me in an effort to discover what manner of country it was
into which I had dropped. I wondered what I should do to get back to
civilisation, and how this could be accomplished, and when.
About us the jungle closed in thickly. Huge trees, gigantic flowers and
creepers, hanging like intertwisted serpents, and with others like the
cables of incompleted suspension-bridges, convinced me at once of the
tropical nature of the land. We were walking in a rude sort of trail,
which I concluded had been formed by some ponderous animal, for the
growth had been smashed down or beaten and trampled aside.
This trail became uncertain, in the gloom, for soon the light was almost
entirely obscured by the super-abundant verdure. Had any of the Links
meditated treachery, or to take advantage of me while unprepared, this
jungle darkness would have afforded an exceptional opportunity; but on
the contrary my fat friend waddled actively before me, clearing the way
of branches, and the “person” next behind me was the albino female
herself. Nevertheless I was grateful for a glimpse of light, now and
again, which gave a promise that beyond we should find something less
forbidding. During this march I noted how silently the Links glided
onward, how lightly they stepped and how alert they were at every sound,
in that silent region of growing and prowling things.
Thus we finally emerged from the forest, into an opening of limited
extent. Here I noted fruit-trees and evidence of former occupation on
the part, I thought, of the Links, but they left the place behind, to
plunge again through the jungle. A shorter trudge brought us out of the
trees once more, at the foot of a hill of no considerable height. This
hill we commenced to ascend.
At last I could see for a distance about me. The prospect was
disappointing, almost bewildering. Instead of a glimpse of the ocean,
which I had thoroughly expected to get, I saw nothing but hills and
valleys, clothed endlessly with the dense, luxuriant growth peculiar to
the equatorial zone, all of it seeming to breathe of heavy blossoms,
heat and the moisture from the universal green. The solitary exception
to this condition of verdure was a bare hill, not half a mile away,
green in spots, but evidently volcanic in origin.
At the edge of the forest we had quitted, a thousand monkeys appeared to
swing from the branches, into existence and then to sway back again and
disappear. A snake glided off in the rank grass; a flock of birds,
decked in brilliant raiment, arose with a great confusion of flapping
wings and inharmonious cries. I believed myself to be on an island,
perhaps of the greater Sunda group, but there was nothing in the visible
world, either to confirm or to deny my theory. I felt that the sea,
which had swallowed Ford and which had so nearly been a grave for
myself, was in reality my best friend, but lost completely, and in which
direction—who should say?
Soon I observed that the hill we were climbing was a sort of terraced
mountain, low and broad. As we neared its summit it widened out,
revealing endless features of beauty and natural provision. It was
wooded with trees in great variety, many of them over-laden with fruits
and nuts; springs of water bubbled forth from bowers of vines and ferns;
birds and game abounded on every side; and its surface “rolled”
sufficiently to comprise not only hummocks and swales but also ravines
and walls of rock as well.
As we reached the edge of the largest clearing I had seen, a chorus of
cries arose from the further side. Immediately the woods disgorged a
great collection of Links, young, old, male, female, and babies. All
were similar to those about me, save that the children were more like
little chimpanzees, running about frequently on “all fours,” swinging
upward to the branches of the trees and otherwise exhibiting animal
spirits.
More than a hundred of these “inhabitants” came running and walking
toward us. Many of the males bore clubs, of the usual pattern, while the
youths were to be distinguished not only by their looks of immaturity,
but also by the undersized weapons in their hands, not a few of which
were like toys. Of the whole population, none wore the slightest
suggestion of clothing, excepting the female albino, mentioned before.
What a lot of terra-cotta gorilla men and women they were, as they
dashed out to meet us!
I found it difficult to be calm as they bore down upon us, yet I was
forced to note what magnificent action was shown in their movements. A
tremendous excitement arose among them when they had me surrounded.
Evidently emboldened by what they were told of my nature, by my
“captors,” yet timid and suspicious of what I might do if aroused, they
presented a singular study of primitive curiosity and caution. The
“women” were bolder than the “men,” a condition of fearlessness which I
attribute to the fact that, like the animals, the males never fought
with the females nor struck them for what they did. These females,
however, although to be classified with animals because of this immunity
from punishment by the “men,” presently exhibited the rudimentary
modesty noted before in the conduct of the chief’s mate, which was
distinctly a human thing. But this diffidence was not so great as their
natural desire to investigate, and they plucked at my coat and trousers
before many of the newly met males among the number dared to come so
near.
The chief having continued to stalk ahead, we all made more or less
progress toward the place whence the Links had come. In all the chatter
I could occasionally distinguish the word “Tzheck,” and this I again
repeated, smiling and nodding as I walked. The creatures amused me, for
I now began to note certain characteristics that made a distinction
between one and another. Thus, one of the females carried a large baby.
She was a sharp-featured “person,” who employed one of her hands to
brush a straggling wisp of hair from her eye, and the baby as constantly
dragged this wisp again from behind her ear. Another was an “old woman,”
obviously deaf, for she placed her hand behind her ear to listen, and
she nodded and grinned in the way of people who catch but fragments of a
conversation.
With this chattering, scampering escort I came to what was evidently the
camp of the tribe. This was marked principally by the trampled condition
of the earth and the number of lively babies about, on the ground and in
the lower branches of the trees. There was a large cave in a wall or
terrace of rock. This was apparently used for purposes of sleeping under
cover, or of other protection when needed. Into this place, the dead of
the band were carried. There was no exhibition of grief, however, and
indeed no one seemed to take any special interest in the corpses. There
were no constructed shelters about, no signs of permanency nor of
provision for the morrow. Except for one thing I might now have
hesitated to place the creatures above the highest order of animals, but
this one thing was conclusive.
They made fire.
Animals may live together in a colony, and even inhabit caves or burrows
of their own digging, but the animal will always be animal until he
starts a blaze and cooks his food.
Their fire at that moment was merely a smouldering heap of ashes and
charred ends of wood; there were no utensils about, no suggestions of a
meal in process of cooking. Presently, however, an old female who
muttered to herself and who paid no attention to me nor to any of the
excitement, threw fuel on the embers and blew up a flame, after which
several Links borrowed a burning brand with which to start other fires
in various places. Soon thereafter a desultory cooking-bee commenced,
each cook providing for himself.
Their process was crude; it consisted merely in spitting a raw piece of
meat on a stick and thrusting it into the blaze, or the coals, according
to the fancy of the chef in question. When this meat began to burn, the
hungry Link blew it, to cool it a trifle, bit out the smoked and barely
heated spot, and ate it greedily, the while he or she thrust the
remaining piece in the heat for another bit of roasting.
The interest in myself had in no wise abated. The majority of the Links
who had not been of the discovering party, having thrown aside their
clubs, surrounded me still and placed their inquisitive hands on my
shoes and clothing. My knife was a source of awe and wonder. Its bloody
handle only was visible, yet scores of those who had not been present at
the fight listened with manifest amazement to what I knew to be
primitive tales of my prowess, and to explanations of the uses to which
I put the weapon. Even the children, the greater part of whom were as
shy as little foxes, gave over their play to stand behind the trees and
behind their elders, from which places of safety they peered at me with
shifty, bright eyes. One little monkey-like chap gave no heed to
anything but a noise he was making by clattering several small empty
sea-shells together with all his power and possible speed.
I missed my comical Link, whom I had mentally nicknamed “Fatty.” He now
appeared with an armful of fruits, and laid them down at my feet. There
were cocoa-nuts, a melon (papaw), mangoes and other things of which I
never learned the names. Being exceedingly hungry I assailed these
refreshments with vigour, to the intense delight of all. Fatty
disappeared again, returning soon with a bird, half plucked, ungutted
and warm. He stabbed it on a stick, borrowed some fire and gave me the
morsel to cook to my liking.
Without thinking, I glanced about for a pot or a skillet. In a second I
realized the hopelessness of the situation. The incident served to set
me thinking. I was lost in a land of which I knew nothing; I was safe,
apparently, in the company of a tribe of Missing Links; I might not be
able to escape from the place very soon and therefore I must rely upon
myself, if I were to have anything like comforts, either of food or
shelter. It was a situation to be pondered, carefully. It would
certainly be folly to attempt to leave these creatures, with whom
perhaps I might be able to exist for a time, without first acquiring a
knowledge as to where lay the sea-coast. I should not only be lost in
the jungle at once, if I started away, but I should doubtless be an
immediate prey to prowling brutes. Yet already I began to feel as if I
had stayed there too long and as if I ought to be starting for “home,”
or back to a land peopled by human beings. I could not imagine myself
accepting the company of these creatures seriously, nor of remaining
long where they were.
The present moment, however, was the most immediately important. I was
too hungry to be appeased by fruits alone, but I felt no desire to eat
scorched bird. As I looked about, a novel idea was suggested to my
brain. Striding forward I picked up a fine large shell—which had
doubtless once been occupied by something like a giant escallop—near the
small ones with which the baby Link was playing. This I washed out at a
near-by spring, and filled with water. Then I placed it on the ground
and propping it up with stones, conveyed some fire beneath it, to heat
the water. The bird was speedily prepared, and cut into bits, after
which I held out my hand for more.
The Links had all abandoned their several pursuits to crowd about. They
were eager to see what would happen. Fatty was inordinately tickled. He
ran clumsily off, with others, and brought me three more birds and the
meat of some small animal, already in the larder. I was not at all sure
that my shell would do for a kettle, as I feared the heat would make it
crack or scale off in pieces. It did crackle, as if about to split, but
the water soon began to sizzle at the edges and was nicely boiling by
the time I was ready. All my meat went in, and then I longed for a few
potatoes and a bit of salt. However, I was gratified exceedingly by the
whiffs of steam which floated away, and I thought of numerous things
which I must soon devise.
Before my dinner was sufficiently done, I speared out pieces and found
them good, especially the birds. Then to Fatty and also to the chief—who
with his albino mate had watched proceedings with flattering attention—I
gave pieces of the meat to try. The exclamations had been numerous when
the water boiled; the Links were silent now until the leader had tasted
and uttered a doubtful verdict, when grunts, eager questions and sounds
of peculiar laughter ensued. Bits of boiled dinner were sought by many
of the bolder fellows, after which I was obliged to laugh myself, for a
dozen new fires were started and over each a Link or two prepared a
piece of meat—in their usual manner. Evidently stew was not to their
taste.