LOST IN THE JUNGLE
When I suddenly sat erect, with a feeling that the battle was on and I
too late to assume my part, it took me a second to realise what had
aroused me from sleep. It was only little Tike, who had come to my side
in the semi-light of dawn and laid his tiny hand upon my face.
Not one of all the babies I have known in my life ever made a sweeter
sound of crooning than did my Little Man that morning, as I held him
snugly cuddled in my arm. It seemed to me the wee chap told how he had
searched my deserted shelter all the day before, and all the other days,
since I had been away so much; it seemed as if he forgave me and forgot
this neglect and made himself a promise that I would not go away and
leave him any more. The light increased, chasing the shadows away from
his thin, little face, but under his wistful eyes were shadows far too
deep to be dispelled by any light of earth. I noted this and observed
that his lip was inclined to tremble; his eye-lids seemed to be heavy as
lead. What a singular little face it was—such a homely, tiny, monkey
face, with phases of child-humanism coming and going across its
lineaments.
“Man,” he said, “man,” and he patted my hand and gave a little shiver of
joy.
I carried him out with me when I went to investigate the situation.
Below me, where I had seen the fires the night before, there was nothing
visible of any of the foe. I noted a thin wisp of smoke, curling lazily
upward above the lowest trees, and I presently detected the shaking of a
brush, denoting the presence of one of the black fellows, who was spying
upon us, unobserved. How I longed for a good rifle to rest on top of our
wall with its muzzle aimed down there at the cover of the demons!
My fellows stirred about with commendable promptness, sixty of them
armed with the bows, all of them eagerly watching to see what I intended
to do. They commanded a certain thrill of admiration, for they were
impressively muscular, alert and active. I could almost fancy them
soldiers, some day, disciplined, efficient and worthy of trust.
As the sun began to warm the earth, the invaders below commenced to move
about more freely. Although they brandished their clubs toward us and
seemed to swarm all through that portion of the jungle, there was no
indication that the creatures intended to make an immediate attack. I
was soon convinced that they were there in great numbers. What their
plan would be I found myself unable to surmise, but it was plain the
fellows were being held in check for some extraordinary measure. I had
been obliged to admit before that these Blacks exhibited certain marks
of superiority over my Reds, in points of aggressiveness and stratagem,
but this game of waiting and deliberate planning surpassed anything they
had performed since I first made their honoured acquaintance.
As far as anything could be deduced from the position now occupied by
the besiegers, I concluded they meant to surge up the slope, at this
point of advantage, where the grade was easy and unobstructed. I own I
should have felt relieved had the savages commenced the war at once.
There was something ominous about this deliberation which I in nowise
relished. While I was attempting to put myself in their place, for the
purpose of thinking what I would do, knowing what they did of the
reception they were likely to meet upon storming the summit, I heard
distant yelling in the jungle. This drew nearer, after which the sounds
receded again in the distance.
What might this incident portend? I inquired of myself, but I could
think of no satisfactory answer. In our larder we had a limited supply
of fruit and no meat fit to cook. I divided everything as equitably as
possible, but none of us had enough for a hearty breakfast. Old Fatty,
who observed me putting aside a portion of my share, put away the whole
of his, like a faithful dog who refuses to eat while his master is in
any way afflicted.
During our meal, and while I was concerning myself with the question of
how we should manage to supply the camp with more provisions, I noted a
distant tumble of mist, arising from the lowlands, like a cloud of smoke
from heavy artillery. This grew and spread with great rapidity. I
comprehended at once that a fog would soon envelope all the world. At
first I thought this solved the problem of the Blacks’ new game of war.
I believed they had waited for this to occur, with a knowledge that it
came reliably often, intending to swoop upon us under its cover and
strike us down before we could realise the meaning of the charge. A
moment later, however, I knew they would never dare attack in even
semi-darkness. The fog was not a thing which a Link would think of
employing.
Suddenly I had an idea that fog was exactly a thing of which man would
take advantage. I would utilise this one to the fullest extent. Watching
its progress now in excitement, for fear it might be too local to
include our hill, I was aware of a repetition of the yelling in chorus,
which I had noted before, out in the forest. I could think of no reason
why a portion of the besieging army should thus be off in the jungle,
making such a racket, but the fellows about me began to manifest the
greatest alarm. The sounds again drew nearer and nearer; the fog rolled
in, apparently on the heels of this party in the jungle. It seemed
almost like a race between the mist and this battalion of the invading
force.
I heard the yelling creatures swerve off to the right. Their very
position was revealed by the rising of a large flock of parrots, all of
which made a considerable noise as they flashed brilliantly in the
sunlight a moment and swept down again, a hundred yards from where they
rose. Just as I began to have an indefinite anxiety about the game being
played below us, the fog enveloped that portion of the jungle where the
foe were conducting their mysterious operations. I fancied a wail of
disappointment finished their chorus of cries, after which the fog
seemed to blot out all sound as well as all the panorama below our
position.
Silently the great pall spread and travelled, till I saw it climbing the
slope between ourselves and the camp of the Blacks.
“Now we’ll fix ’em,” I cried to my warriors. “They have played their
game and now we’ll play the joker.”
Going to the magazine I hurriedly uncovered all my bombs and took out
all but the smallest three, together with a quantity of fuse. This
latter had become so dry that I felt the greatest confidence in the
dryness of all the powder. Bidding my most intelligent and obedient
fellows take these up with care, I lifted the two largest myself and led
the way through the gate and started down and around the hill, toward
the entrenchment of the Blacks.
At once my fighters halted, afraid of the fog and more afraid of the
enemy in waiting. I stormed and coaxed and threatened before I could get
them to follow, but Fatty came and then another, after which the others
felt ashamed to remain behind. Thus I got the small force a little more
than half way down the slope, where I directed them to deposit the bombs
on the ground and to dig a long, narrow trench across the path up which
I believed the Blacks intended to come when at last they made their
assault upon the summit.
In the bottom of this ditch, which was made two feet deep in a time
amazingly brief, I arranged my bombs, about a foot apart, hurriedly
attaching a fuse to each, making the matches as nearly of a length as
possible. The mines extended for so considerable a distance that I
determined to lay two series of main fuses. This I did by bringing
together the matches of all the bombs on the right, in one bunch, and
all on the left in another. At these junctions I cut each fuse off to
insure freshness and to guarantee ignition of the powder, after which I
weighted them down with rocks, placed the end of the main fuse in
contact with them and sprinkled powder plentifully about to unite them
all in one train. A similar arrangement being completed for the second
group, I had the whole mine covered carefully, with rocks and earth,
when I trailed my main matches up the hill, had them weighted down and
brought the ends together several rods below our wall.
The Links were willing enough to return inside our gate. I had them
remove a few of the stones from the wall at a point just opposite my
fuses, and then we conveyed some embers from the fire with which to
kindle a special blaze wherefrom I intended to snatch a lighted brand
when the moment should arrive for touching off the match.
All being in readiness I should have been gratified to see the fog roll
away and the enemy starting up the hill in a solid phalanx. We stood on
guard as an extra precaution, in case the Blacks should summon a courage
sufficient to attack us under cover of the mist, but the world was
silent and the objects about us were ghostly in the vaporous shrouds.
The hours wore on and the fog continued thick and warm. We had all been
hungry before the mist arose; we were now growing restless and desperate
to satisfy our cravings.
To add to my own discomforts I began to worry about the fuse absorbing
dampness. Should it be ruined by the fog the mines would be useless.
What might happen then was beyond conjecture, for we should have no
large bombs to use, and the small ones left in the magazine could not be
provided with fuse. In the midst of my troubles, little Tike came
stumbling against my leg. He fell down at my feet, but was up at once
and gazing in my face with his odd little smile playing lightly on his
lips. I took him on my arm and going to my shelter gave him all he would
take of the fruits. Fatty, on seeing this, fetched his hidden store and
rolled about in ecstasy when he had placed it before me. I ate a piece
of his hoarded fruit to please the old fellow, after which I
endeavoured, vainly, to get him to eat what remained.
He was ravenously hungry, so much so that he could not keep his eyes
from the tempting mangoes and papaw, nor keep his tongue from lapping at
his chops, yet he still refused to eat when I signified that I should
take no more. He concealed the hoard again, returning to his place with
his stomach empty.
Only once, since my advent among the Links, had a fog remained all day
to obscure the hills and forest, but this one threatened to perform a
similar feat. From time to time it lifted for a moment from a local
area, only to descend again more quickly than before. I began to believe
that perhaps it might be possible for a party of us to deploy on a
foraging tour and visit the grove of fruit-bearing trees. Unfortunately
the Blacks had made their camp in the most accessible “orchard,” which
gave them a great advantage. However, I knew of several cocoanut palms,
a little removed from the enemy’s position, which I thought I could
find, even in the dark. I decided to make an attempt to reach this
grove.
It was well along in the afternoon by this, and the fog still hung
heavily on the country. As before, I had considerable trouble in getting
a force of fellows to back me in the enterprise. But the hungriest
became the bravest and therefore with ten stout fellows, all armed, I
left the wall behind and went cautiously down the hill.
Very soon I found that everything appeared so altered in the mist that
piloting my party was not at all an easy matter. I disliked exceedingly
the prospect of finding myself in the enemy’s lines, but having started,
I was too proud, or too stubborn, to do such a sensible thing as retreat
and own myself baffled. We therefore proceeded uncertainly along, near
the edge of the trees, getting deeper and deeper, it seemed, into the
maze of fog and unfamiliar objects. The mist down here was much more
dense than that which floated about the camp above.
As we prowled stealthily ahead, looking aloft at the shadowy trees, the
curtain of vapour was rended about us, abruptly, leaving us bare—as it
were—and completely revealed. On the second a cry of alarm broke from a
Black, not fifteen yards away, and a chorus of yells made answer, as a
score of the demons rushed out from the cover of trees, to give us
battle.
My nimble fellows vanished like shadows, bounding swiftly up the slope
and into the kindly bank of fog, before the Blacks could so much as
count their heels. I also started to dash away toward the camp, but
tripped over a rolling stone and fell down heavily, my ankle sprained
and pain shooting all through my leg and body. Scrambling on hands and
knees in desperate haste, I made toward the fog, conscious that three or
four of the Blacks were dashing toward me. I breathed a great sigh of
relief and thankfulness to see the mist close in upon the place.
Turning instantly, when this veiling pall was about me, I moved at the
top of my speed toward the trees and undergrowth of vines. I heard the
cry of triumph which burst from the lips of the creatures who thoroughly
expected to leap upon me, and I heard even the quick, light tread of
their feet as they ran, but the turn had deceived them and diving into
the tangle of leaves and creepers, pushing my bow and dragging my aching
foot, I lay at full length, to pant, for a brief time, when I crawled
laboriously off in the direction which I believed to be opposite the
camp of the foe.
My pursuers raced about at random on the slope, chattering in disgust
and amazement, but they were soon confused by the fog. They searched
about for several minutes, one of them coming almost upon me, as I lay
beneath the vines, but at last all returned to their savage companions.
I could now guess the direction of the camp they had formed by the
sounds they made in retiring. This direction seemed entirely contrary to
what I had mentally determined to be right. However, I crawled away from
the vicinity which I now knew bordered on their position, and turned to
go toward the hill.
Doubtless the pain in my ankle distracted my attention, but at any rate
when I had crept a distance which I thought should have been sufficient
to place me out of the forest and on the slope, there was no hill
visible and the jungle seemed equally deep on every side. Thinking I had
probably made a mistake of a point or more, by my mental compass, I
started off again, in a slightly different direction.
This soon became hopeless. I realised that the fog had confused me a
trifle, but it seemed too absurd that I should not find the clearing and
then be able to go to the top of the hill. In fifteen minutes I had
become so muddled that I dared not move another yard. It appears
ridiculous, but I was lost.
Jungle, I had found before this, was quite sufficiently difficult to
traverse toward a given point in the brightest light, but enveloped in a
fog it became the most bewildering and maddening maze. To make matters
worse, the day was nearly spent, my ankle pained me exceedingly and my
dread of snakes became a factor which contributed much to my nervous
excitement. I leaned against a tree, finally, convinced of the
inexpedience of blundering about in a hit-or-miss effort to rectify my
first mistake. If I got any deeper in the tangle, I thought, I might not
be able to find myself, even by the full light of day.
To stand there in that inhabited place of horrors, knowing that the sun
was departing in its race toward the western horizon, feeling anxious
and uncourageous, aching from my foot to my thigh, and angry with myself
for being such a fool,—this was about as comfortless a thing as I had
ever undergone. I was sure the fog would lift from the hill while it
still surrounded me; I was certain the Blacks would swarm up the slope,
storm the place, murder half my Links and drive the others pell-mell to
the woods; and I was not at all convinced that I should ever issue forth
from that jungle alive.
I listened, expectantly, but not a sound could I catch, either of
prowling brutes, nor of attack on our village; the silence was
particularly oppressive. Darker and darker grew the forest. I knew at
last the sun had set on an ocean of fog. Perhaps the attack had been
rendered impossible, for that day at least, but wherein my condition was
bettered by this descent of night was more than I could discover. My
thoughts were hardly more cheerful when I pictured the breaking of dawn,
the hill-top clear and distinct in the light, and the blood-hungry enemy
sweeping the summit of every vestige of our work and genius.
One hour, two, perhaps three elapsed—a time that seemed a century. I had
remained all the while at the foot of that tree, without attempting to
move about. I was doomed to remain there, helpless and impotent, it
seemed, for any time which might prove agreeable to the gods of fortune.
My thoughts had wandered afield, so that doubtless I had forgotten to
listen to anything but my own meditation. It is certain that I was
conscious for several moments, in an automatic manner, of a dull,
monotonous sound, before it reached my notice. At last I seemed abruptly
to recognise that a thud and thud was penetrating the silence. Then I
started so quickly toward the direction whence this disturbance arose
that I all but fell, unsupported as I was by the injured foot. But I
pulled myself together and feeling my way, hastened forward as rapidly
as possible, crazed with a new delight. I had recognised the sound.
It was Fatty, beating on the drum to affright the Blacks.