When they resumed their journey the next morning they encountered a new
form of obstacle in the form of the webs of huge red bird-catching
spiders, whose nets stretched from tree to tree in the forest, looked
like seine nets in a fisherman’s village hung out to dry, or to make
another comparison, miles of mosquito netting hung between the tree
trunks. Through these webs they had to make their way for a long
distance.
The boys did not like it at all, and Donald Judson, who was particularly
averse to spiders, slunk in the rear till the natives, with shouts and
yells, cut down the webs that hung across the trail. The soft silky
substance of the webs struck them in the face and clung glutinously and
covered their clothes with a coating of white fleece.
As they forced their way through this repulsive feature of New Guinea
forest travel, they could, from time to time, see the hideous forms of
the huge and venomous spiders that had spread the webs peering at them
from dark retreats in the crevices of trees or else scuttling off on
long, hairy legs to safety. It did not require much imagination to
picture their anger at this ruthless destruction of their homes. That
night they camped near the edge of a big swamp, and the two boys, weary
of the monotony of the long march and tired of canned stuff and
preserved goods, volunteered to set out with rifles and see if they
could not bring in something more palatable.
As they had camped early when the swamp crossed their path, there was
plenty of time for them to go quite a distance in search of game. In a
short time they had brought down two birds that looked something like
partridges, as well as shooting an odd-looking bird like a huge parrot,
with a gigantic bill and horny head. They were some distance apart,
separated by a brake of reeds, when Jack heard a sudden cry of alarm
from Billy.
Disregarding the danger of snakes, he pushed his way through the brake
at once. As he came in sight of Billy, who was standing staring into the
forest as if petrified, Jack, too, received a shock. Not far from Billy
was what he at first thought was a man. But such a man! Not even in a
nightmare had the boy ever beheld such a hideous form.
This man, if such he was, was covered all over with red hair, thick and
shaggy, except on the face, which was darker and bereft of hair, but
from which two yellow eyes glared malevolently. In an instant the true
nature of this creature flashed upon Jack. It was an orang-outang, and a
monster, too, that stood facing them, its long arms trailing in front of
it. But even though stooped over, it was as large as the average man,
with a massive chest and shoulders.
“Take a shot at it, Jack,” urged Billy.
But Jack shook his head.
“It looks too horribly human,” he said. “Besides, it doesn’t look as if
it would attack us. It seems to be more possessed by curiosity than
anything else.”
Perhaps the boy was right, for after eyeing them for a few seconds more
the monstrous creature shuffled off for the edge of a big sheet of water
on whose margin they stood, and began tearing up some sort of water
plants and eating their roots with many grunts of satisfaction. He waded
in almost knee deep, stuffing his bag-like cheeks full and chewing with
huge satisfaction. The boys gazed at this strange picture with
fascination.
But suddenly the monster stopped eating and stood erect. Its hair began
to bristle and it uttered an angry sort of growl. Apparently it was not
fear but anger that possessed this colossus of the forests as it glanced
angrily about it. The cause of its emotion was not long in appearing.
From the stagnant waters was approaching an antagonist formidable
indeed—a giant saurian—a crocodile larger than any the boys had ever
seen in any zoo.
The boys naturally expected to see the orang-outang beat a hasty
retreat. But instead it stood its ground, merely drawing back a few
inches as the crocodile’s hideous snout and scaly body were successively
protruded from the water. Jack now recalled what Salloo had told him one
night in camp about the orang. The Malay had said it was the king of the
New Guinea forests, fearing no man, beast or reptile, and this certainly
appeared to be the case in this instance.
Had it wished to beat a retreat to safety, the mias, as the natives
called the red gorilla, might easily have done so. One leap and he could
have grasped a tree trunk, up which he could have scrambled in a jiffy.
On the contrary, after its first backward steps, which brought it almost
out of the water, the creature stood upright and, uttering savage
growls, beat on its hairy chest with its huge arms, producing a sound
like the reverberations of a savage “tom-tom.”
The scaly reptile continued to advance. Perhaps, to its eyes, the red
gorilla was simply a native, a poor weak human being, such as possibly
had fallen victim to the great crocodile before. However that may have
been, the saurian, without undue hurry, could be seen to be making
straight for the red ape and, maneuvering so as to get its monstrous
armor-plated tail in position to give a fatal flail-like sweep, which
would fling the orang-outang into the water, stunning it and making it
an easy prey.
It appeared to flatten itself as it reached shallow water, its ugly
lizard-like legs spread out on each side of its scaly body almost
horizontally. Then, with a suddenness that made the boys catch their
breaths in a quick gasp, the monster gave a sudden leap, aiding this
maneuver by its tail, which it suddenly stiffened as if it had been a
spring.
Its whole length was launched into the air as it sprang, and for a flash
its wide-opened jaws with their hideous rows of triangular teeth,
appeared to engulf the red ape. But while the boys were still held
spell-bound by this spectacle, such a one as perhaps no human being but
a lone native hunter had ever beheld before, the red gorilla gave a
mighty leap. It was partly straight up and partly to one side. As the
great jaws of the saurian came together with a snap like that of a
titanic steel trap, the red ape landed fair and square on the scaled
monster’s back.
Straddling the plated hide, the great hairy legs gripped the crocodile’s
sides as a bronco buster grips his fractious mount. And now commenced a
struggle between these two denizens of the deepest New Guinea forests
such as the two young spectators remembered with photographic vividness
to the end of their lives.
On the part of the crocodile the battle was simply a series of leaps and
wild tail threshings in an effort to dislodge his nimble foe. The grass
and weeds were mown down as if by a scythe by the sweeps of the great
tail, but the ape held firm, his little eyes twinkling wickedly. With
one arm it clutched the rough hide firmly, but the other was waving
about like a tentacle seeking something to grasp.
During the struggle the jaws of the crocodile had been frequently
snapped, but they only closed on empty air. As in all the saurian tribe,
during this process the upper jaw had pointed nearly vertically upward,
making an opening big enough to swallow a canoe. Suddenly the watchers
saw the orang’s purpose. All at once the disengaged arm made a swift
sweep forward and grasped the extended upper jaw.
“Great Scott! he’s done for now,” cried Billy. “That jaw will close and
cut his fingers off.”
“Hold on,” warned Jack. “Watch. I’ve heard these creatures can bend
rifle barrels as if they were made of lead. Perhaps—look!”
The orang suddenly shifted his position. He was now kneeling on the
crocodile’s back, his knees braced firmly on its armor-plated neck and
his second arm aiding the first in the task of keeping those jaws, once
apart, from ever coming together again. Then summoning every ounce of
that strength that has made the orang the most dreaded of all the forest
animals in that part of the world, even the Bornean tiger owning his
supremacy, the red gorilla gave one grand wrench.
There was a tearing sound as of a tree being torn from its roots, and
the alligator’s body writhed and threshed about convulsively. The great
ape sprang free from the scaly monster and with hoarse laughter that
sounded like the merriment of a maniac, it gazed on the saurian’s
struggles. But it was not destined to see the end of them. In its agony
the great crocodile instinctively made for the water and was soon out of
sight, threshing and writhing until a clump of water-cane hid it from
sight.
Then, and not till then, did the orang take its eyes from its conquered
enemy. But when it had seen the last of it, the hairy creature turned
and appeared to be contemplating fresh victory. The lust of battle was
in its wicked little eyes.
“Down, Billy, down with you quick,” warned Jack, pulling his chum aside
in the thicket. “If it comes this way, shoot at once. I wouldn’t want to
come to close quarters with a creature like that. I thought Salloo was
drawing the long bow when he told me about the _mias_, as he called it,
but he didn’t put it on thick enough.”
“If only we’d had a camera,” was Billy’s regret. But for the next few
moments there were more important things to think about. The orang stood
upright, looking about him in a truculent manner. It almost appeared as
if, now that his battle with the saurian was over, he had recollected
the human figure he had seen not long before, but had paid little heed
to it in his haste to make his evening meal among the water plants.
In fact, he started shamblingly toward the brake where the boys were
concealed with leveled rifles and fingers on triggers. But the great
creature’s life was spared, for that time at least, for had the boys
fired he must have fallen at the first bullets from the high-powered
rifles. After advancing a few paces, he changed his mind and, grumbling
to himself, he shuffled off and was soon lost in the gloom of the
forest.
“We ought to have shot him, Jack,” muttered Billy as they started back
to camp with what game they bagged.
“What, kill a fine old warrior like that without cause? Could you have
done it, Billy?”
“Um—well—er—no, I don’t believe I could,” rejoined his chum. “After
all, that crocodile started the scrap and—and I guess every American
likes a good fighter.”