A GLEAM OF HOPE
When I finally fastened the tiger’s skull above my shelter, and girded
my loins about with the skin, I was conscious of having attained a great
respect among my primitive friends. Not a few, I soon became aware,
would have followed me readily in any measure, not requiring too vast a
courage, even to the point of seceding from the semi-command of the
chief. They attested this feeling, which resembled that evinced from the
first by Fatty, in all the work and in various smaller matters, from
daylight till dark.
I might have been more flattered than I was at my exaltation among these
half-human creatures, had I not easily detected the jealousy of the
chief, which feeling Grin continued constantly to feed. Indeed in spite
of all I could do, a division of parties was growing every day.
Unfortunately the females were more fierce in their partisanship than
were the males. Moreover a majority of these “ladies” evinced a strong
desire to ally themselves to the side of which I was becoming the
unwilling leader. Prominent among them was the chief’s albino mate, who
was far too persistent to give me any peace of mind. I foresaw trouble
to come from this unhappy complication.
Had all the Links united in considering myself a leader and governor of
the tribe, I should have enjoyed very much the “recognition of my
talents,” especially as such an outcome would have furthered the scheme
I had, to make them fit as warriors and then persuade them to march as
my escort to the coast. Indeed I was planning and working deliberately
to become commander-in-chief. But this division was not at all assuring,
for although all had a wholesome fear of the Tartar they had caught, yet
any one of the creatures, turning treacherous, could have killed me
outright with a single blow.
I made no end of attempts to procure the confidence of the chief, and
frequently thought I was winning him over, but always Grin got in a
stroke which set my endeavours at naught. I could have killed the beast
with great satisfaction to myself and with profit all around. The albino
female I ignored pointedly at every opportunity afforded. This gave some
degree of satisfaction to the chief, but like Othello, he grew
insufferably suspicious.
Our work of providing weapons and utensils, and also of securing a
better state of existence and defence, proceeded daily. I worked like an
engine, myself, to employ all my thoughts, which began to be
disquieting. Although I strove to avert what was slowly coming, the
conviction was borne in upon me more and more that if things continued
as they were going, I should either be obliged to fight a pitched
battle, backed by my voluntary adherents, against the chief and his
party, or else abandon my scheme of escape altogether.
But if I brought about the internecine strife and even won the battle,
my force would be utterly inadequate for an escort, (provided I could
get them to leave the wilds to which they were all accustomed), for the
whole tribe did not muster half the number of fighters which the black
Links had assembled against us that day at the cave. If we started
through the jungle, who should say we might not walk straightway into
the settlement of our hostile neighbours? Besides this natural enemy,
the woods were sure to be filled with ourang-outangs, snakes, tigers and
no end of other animals that would snip off man after man, if they did
not annihilate the party entirely.
The situation was trying. If I discontinued the archery practice and the
teaching of “civilized arts,” my Links would never be fit for my “army;”
if, on the contrary, I proceeded to place the fellows on a fighting
equality with myself, they would all be the worse as enemies, if ever a
genuine rebellion should occur. Having thought and thought till my brain
was weary, I decided to take my chances on having them understand the
bow, trusting that something might happen which would make us all
united. I reasoned that if our foe, the Blacks, should swoop upon us
again, we might all be killed, if they found us unprepared, and then all
schemes of escape would be equally vain.
Our programme of armament therefore proceeded with all reasonable haste.
We had frequent practice with the weapons, many of the Links soon giving
promise of great proficiency with this natural weapon of early man.
During this time the strained relations were in no wise improved, thanks
to the ceaseless efforts of Grin and to the idiocy of Madame Albino, who
became the more zealous as I treated her with greater contempt. I grew
desperate, for matters were tending toward disruption too plainly for
any concealment.
One morning I was drilling the Links in sham fighting, and making them
form in hollow square about me. In the midst of our manœuvres I had an
inspiration, totally foreign to the work. The lake! Why had I not
figured out before that the lake must have inlets and an outlet, and
that the latter must eventually reach the sea itself? True the thought
came quickly that out in that ever-anomalous Nevada there are lakes (or
“sinks”), which have no outlet at all, but I doubted strongly if this
lake belonged to that same peculiar species. By all means I would
explore it, come what might. I would know what it promised, and no
matter what manner of outlet I might discover, I would attempt my escape
on its bosom, and snap my fingers at Links and all of their ilk.
For this business I should require a boat. Perhaps this would be no
better than a raft, in the end, if nothing better could be constructed,
but something floatable would be necessary before I could move a mile
down or about the sheet of water, for the jungle grew to the very edge
of this shimmering gem, rendering its circum-exploration on the shore as
good as a physical impossibility.
It was easy enough to induce the Links to help me force a path to the
water’s edge, but I soon discovered that without exception they held the
place in awe and superstitious dread. It did prove to be generously
inhabited, but this was quite to be expected. For the matter of that,
the whole country was crawling with deadly reptiles and brutes, so that
choosing the lesser evil was not too decidedly easy.
One would have said that material was plentiful, even had I contemplated
building a fleet, but the growth was so dense that I knew it would be a
gigantic task to cut down any timber. The Links were anxious to leave
the shore for the safer hill, but I kept them with me and communicated
to several the fact that I was searching for a log. This was an
excellent move, for Fatty soon underwent a paroxysm of delight at his
cleverness, and at my open satisfaction, when he jerked away a snarl of
vines, already concealing the trunk of a tree which apparently had
succumbed to a violent gale.
We soon had the log laid bare for more than twenty feet of its length.
It was twined about by creepers, but it had no low branches to give us
trouble, while its size was entirely satisfactory. With our tools of
flint we started to cut the thing off in two places, the root end being
in no wise fit to form the prow or the stern of a boat, but our efforts
seemed so feeble and childish that apparently it was next to an
insurmountable difficulty to perform even this primary office. I felt so
discouraged that I nearly gave it up then and there.
However, one of my admirers was willing to run to camp for a brand of
fire, for I had resolved to burn the log in two. This was a task which
opened up large possibilities for the expenditure of time and patience,
although we constantly removed the fire, as soon as its flames had eaten
inward, charring the wood, when we chopped away this softened portion
and began again. At the end of the first day we had accomplished so
little that the task, merely of getting the log cut off, seemed
hopeless. I determined that if we did get the log free at last I would
have it rolled into the water and content myself with its plain,
unvarnished bulk for a craft, for digging it out to form a boat I feared
would be more of a job than my patience could endure.