GOLDEN GLEAMS
As long as we could see them, the Links continued to watch the boat
departing. Even the goddess, who had conceived such a hatred and fear of
the Blacks, felt that these simpler fellows were not wholly savage and
bad; she even waved them good-bye till we passed around the point, after
which we were quiet for several minutes.
Old Fatty was thoroughly frightened. He crouched down and trembled,
raising his head timidly from time to time to look about, but always
ducked it back under his arm as if he thought that to shut out the sight
was to eliminate the imaginary danger. I pitied him, but felt a greater
affection for the old fellow than ever before, to think he preferred to
undergo this torture, rather than to remain behind when I had gone. It
was a wonderful compliment, and so I shall always think. But I hoped his
fears would soon depart, for I was sorry to see him distressed.
When I turned from the last view of our friends, to smile at the
goddess, I noticed for the first time that she was minus the anaconda.
“Why—we’ve forgotten your darling, beastly old snake,” said I. “If it
makes a lot of difference, why—of course—”
“I left it purposely,” she interrupted, rosy red.
“The deuce!” I exclaimed. “I thought the critter was your pet—the one
thing on earth—”
“My pet! Oh, the horrible, crawling thing!” She shuddered at the memory,
to my great, but secret delight. “I hated the nasty thing—I loathed it!”
she expostulated fervently. “I hope I’ll never see another snake again!”
This was a huge surprise. “Gee whizz!” said I.
“Gee wizz!” echoed Fatty, and he ducked his head back with a snap.
“But—er—why, then,” I resumed, “why did you lug it around?”
“I took it as my only protection,” she replied with dignity. “I had to
be protected from the outrageous brutes!”
“That’s so,” I admitted, abashed. “I might have thought of that. Of
course—just as plain as day.... You’re right—I’m a donkey.... Yes....
But—but why have you thrown him away, now?”
“Because,” she murmured, looking at me timidly, while she blushed again,
“because I don’t need him—any more.”
“Well—bless my soul!” said I, and that was all.
Sending the boat along steadily, for the sun had set and darkness would
soon be coming, I thought of many things. My gaze rested on Fatty, who
was now beginning to look about him a trifle more boldly. What should I
do with the old fellow, provided we all got safely out of the country
and once more mingled with men? How astonished he would be at the sights
of steamers, railroad trains, cities, and the hurrying crowds of people!
I could fancy his comical face, as he looked in my eyes, like a
bewildered dog. Would it ever be possible to put him in clothes and have
him about me? I knew he could learn many useful things, and even much of
my speech, but whether a Missing Link could really be kept, as a
servant, or friend, was a question requiring no little amount of
thought. Of one thing I was certain, I would never under any
circumstances permit him to become a freak, nor even an object of
people’s idle curiosity. Poor old, faithful Fatty.
By the time we arrived at Outlet river I felt that the darkness was
sufficient to make it possible and safe for me to run the gauntlet past
the camp of the Blacks. Cautiously I rowed the boat, bidding the goddess
say nothing till we should be past the clearing.
I could see that she had become pale and frightened, as we neared the
place in which for long she had been a prisoner, but also there was
ample evidence of her courage. Without a sound, we glided by the bank
where twice I had beached the boat, and my heart beat with excitement as
I thought of the gold, lying so short a carry away. “Get it—take it!”
prompted a thought in my brain, “it will only take a moment and then you
will be rich!” But I conquered; I crushed out the tempting voice and
rowed slowly on.
Proceeding across the river, to the side opposite the clearing of our
foe, I watched for the camp, eagerly. We came sooner than I had expected
to a point from which we could see the place. I looked, but was struck
dumb with surprise. Not a fire did I see. I rested on the oars and
listened; there was not a sound of the chattering Blacks. Daring to
approach a trifle nearer, so great is human curiosity, I was still
unable to discover a single sign of inhabitants on the flat where I had
formerly seen them by the hundred.
“I’m a fish,” said I, “if they haven’t deserted the camp!”
They had gone, for a fact. There was not a Link of them left. They had
fled, for what reason I could not even conjecture; and where they were
was a question which I did not care to propound. It seemed to me that
this lifted a great burden of worry from my shoulders. But as soon as I
had made myself sure of the truth, my thoughts went flashing back to the
bag of gold. If the Links were gone, I should run no risk in recovering
the treasure. So potent did this idea become, that I immediately turned
the boat back up the steam and began to row with vigour.
The goddess asked me at once where I was going. When I told her she
seemed deeply to regret my resolution, but she sat there, grimly, and
made no comment. Brave girl, I knew she was terribly agitated, but a
girl could not be expected to do or to know any better. I admired her
pluck in restraining her natural impulse to protest and coax and make a
fuss.
In the briefest time, the prow was grating on the bank. Fatty leaped
out, wild with delight to find himself again on solid earth.
“We’ll only be gone a minute,” I told the goddess, and led the way up
through the brush and the darkness.
To tell the truth I was more than half afraid that something might
happen, myself. Jungle noises had commenced and the place seemed to
breathe of my flight, struggles and pains of the time before. Stumbling
about, as silently as possible, I began to search for the treasure.
I had pictured myself walking straight to where the gold was lying, but
I now began to realise that to re-discover the particular thicket where
I had dropped it would be a matter involving considerable luck. A
fruitless time elapsed while I plunged about. Fatty was of no
assistance, for he knew nothing of what I was seeking.
Presently the same old grumble and roar, from the mighty cauldron,
commenced to roll outward on the air. I knew at once I was off the
track, at least twenty yards. Changing my base rapidly, I began the
search anew. But it seemed utterly hopeless. A doubt came over me; was
the bag still there? Might not the Blacks have found it and carried it
away? It seemed as if this must be so. I was worried about the goddess;
if anything should happen to her, how terrible it would be!
On the point of giving up the gold, and persuading myself that I did not
care anyway, I turned to leave, and stumbled heavily over some obstacle
and into a tangle of creepers.
“Here it is, all the time!” I grumbled.
My excitement rose to fever pitch in a second. The bag, exactly as I had
dropped it down, was under my very hand. Lifting it out of the embracing
tendrils, I got it boosted up on my shoulder in a hurry. Then back we
plunged, through the growth.
If I live to be a thousand, I shall never see a face so expressive of
dread and fright as was that of the poor, trembling girl in the boat,
when at last we came to where she was waiting. I believe that hers had
been a more cruel ordeal to endure than had been my own on the former
occasion. I had not even thought to whistle a bit, by way of assurance
that all was well. She had to cry, dear little woman, when the strain
was over and the boat once more headed down the stream.
I spurned the gold with my foot, as it lay in the boat, and hated myself
for a miserly, greedy fool, yet in spite of myself I felt a tremendous
elation inside, to think of having all this wealth, after all. It seemed
too good for me to contain myself over. I wanted to roar out in
laughter, to sing, and to shout a mad defiance to all the Blacks in
kingdom.
Fatty had entered the boat again, with more alacrity than before,
desiring any fate with us rather than to be left alone in an unknown
jungle after dark. He made himself small in the bottom of the boat, and
we glided past the deserted camp of our defeated foe.