that might give them gratification, but rather desiring that nothing
should be seen. Notwithstanding the obscurity that surrounded them,
they could not divest themselves of the idea that one passing the
entrance of the creek could see them distinctly enough; and this kept
them in constant apprehension.
They had no need to keep watch in any other direction. Behind them, and
on each side, extended the unbroken wall of tree-tops, shaded with
llianas, worked and woven together into a network that appeared
impenetrable even to the wild animals of the forest. Who would have
looked for an enemy in human shape to come that way?
Up to noon no incident occurred to disturb the tranquillity of the place
or in any way add to their apprehensions. Now and then a bird appeared,
winging its way over the bright band illumined by the sun, or poising
itself for a moment and then plunging downward upon some prey it had
detected in the water. All these appearances only increased their
confidence; as the presence of the birds, undisturbed at their ordinary
avocations, indicated the absence of human beings.
The same conclusion was drawn from the behaviour of a brace of large
fish-cows, at some distance outside, directly in front of the arcade.
When first noticed, they were engaged in some sort of rude gambol, at
which they continued for a full half-hour. After that, one of them swam
off, while the other, laying itself along the water, appeared to go to
sleep.
It was a tantalising sight to the eyes of the old tapuyo; and it was
just as much as he could do to restrain himself from swimming out and
attacking the sleeper, either with his knife or the pashuba spear. The
danger, however, would have been too great, not from a conflict with the
cow, but of being seen by the sharp-eyed savages.
In view of this, the Mundurucu resisted the temptation, and consented,
though not without reluctance, to let the peixe-boi continue its
slumbers uninterrupted.
CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE.
FOLLOWING THE FLOAT.
Unfortunately for our adventurers, as well as for the cow-fish itself,
other eyes than those of the tapuyo had been watching the gambols of the
two cetaceans, and had paid particular attention to the one now taking
its siesta on the surface. Neither Munday nor his companions had any
suspicion of this; for, excepting the peixe-boi itself, no living
creature was in sight. Having observed it for a considerable length of
time, still reclining in its attitude of repose, they had almost ceased
to think of it; when all at once it was seen to spring clear out of the
water, and, after making two or three grotesque plunges, sink suddenly
below the surface!
The action was too violent and unnatural to be voluntary. The peixe-boi
had evidently been assailed in its sleep by some enemy, from which it
was but too eager to retreat.
But what could this enemy be? The tapuyo knew of nothing _under_ the
water that was likely to have made the attack. There are no sharks nor
swordfish in the Gapo, and an alligator would scarcely dare to meddle
with a creature of such enormous dimensions. Much less could an enemy
have come from the air. There is no bird in South America, not even the
great condor itself, that would think of swooping down upon a peixe-boi.
Some of the party said that they had seen something glancing towards the
cow-fish at the moment it made the leap,--something that looked like a
flash of lightning! What could that be? There was no cloud in the sky,
no thunder. It could not have been lightning.
"_Pa terra_!" exclaimed the tapuyo, in evident alarm. "I know what it
was. Keep quiet or we are lost!"
"What was it?"
"A harpoon,--look yonder, patron! Don't you see the water in motion
where the juaroua went down?"
"Certainly I do. That's very natural. The waves are caused by the
plunging of the animal."
"The waves! not that; look again. You see a thin ripple. There's a
cord making it. Yonder's the float! and close behind that you will see
something more. There, there he is!"
Sure enough, there was a rippling line caused by a cord drawn rapidly
along the surface; at the end of this a small buoy of wood dragged
rapidly after, and close behind a canoe, with an Indian in it, the
Indian in a bent attitude, plying his paddle, and evidently in pursuit
of the wounded cow-fish. The log was a "float," the line drawing it
along was at its other end attached to a harpoon, and that harpoon had
its barbs buried in the body of the peixe-boi!
Such a specimen of a human being, even for a savage, none of the
spectators--the tapuyo perhaps excepted--had ever beheld. He was as
naked as if he had never been outside the Garden of Eden; and this very
nakedness displayed a form that, but for the absence of a hairy
covering, more resembled that of a monkey than a man. A body extremely
attenuated, yet pot-bellied, too; a pair of long, thin arms, with legs
to match, the latter knotted at the knees, the former balled at the
elbows; a huge head, seemingly larger from its mop of matted hair; a
face with high cheeks and sunken eyes,--gave him an appearance more
demoniac than human. No wonder that little Rosa screamed as he came in
sight, and that dismay exhibited itself on the features of several
others of the party.
"Hush!" whispered Munday. "Silence all! Not a word, or we shall be
seen, and then not he, but perhaps a hundred of his tribe--Hush!"
Fortunately the scream of Rosita had been only slight; and the savage,
in eager pursuit of the peixe-boi, had not heard it, for he continued
the chase without pause.
He had no difficulty in discovering the whereabouts of his game. The
float guided him; for, no matter where the cow went, the tether was
still attached to her, and the movement of the log along the surface
betrayed to the eye of her pursuer every change of direction.
Two or three times, the savage, dropping his paddle, was enabled to lay
hold of the line and commence hauling in; but the great strength of the
juaroua, as yet unexhausted, proved too much for him, and he was
compelled to let go or be pulled out of his craft.
The latter was but a frail concern, of the smallest and rudest kind,--
consisting of a shell of bark, gathered up at both ends and tied by
sipos, so as to give it somewhat the shape of an ordinary canoe. Even
when paddling with all his strength, its owner could make no great
speed; but great speed was not required in the chase of a peixe-boi with
a barbed spear sticking through its skin and rankling between its ribs.
It only required patience, until the huge creature should become
exhausted with its struggles and enfeebled by the loss of blood. Then
might the conquest be completed without either difficulty or danger.
For twenty minutes or more the chase continued; the float being dragged
hither and thither, until it had crossed the water in almost every
direction. Sometimes both log and canoe were in sight, sometimes only
one of them, and sometimes neither,--at such times the cow-fish having
passed far beyond the limits of clear water visible to the spectators.
On the last of these occasions, several minutes had elapsed before the
chase came again in sight. Our adventurers were in hopes they would see
no more of either fish, float, or follower. The interest they might
otherwise have taken in such a curious spectacle was destroyed by the
thought of the danger that would result in their being discovered.
Just as they had begun to congratulate themselves that they were to be
spared this misfortune, the float once more came before their eyes,
still being dragged along the surface, but with much less rapidity than
when last seen. The manatee was coming into the arcade, the canoe
following close after, with the hideous savage eagerly plying his
paddle, while, with outstretched neck and wild, scintillating orbs, he
peered inquiringly into the darkness before him!
There was no chance to escape discovery.
CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR.
A CANNIBAL CAPTURED.
The fears of those standing upon the ceiba could not have been greater
than that of the savage himself, as his canoe came bumping against the
dead-wood, and he saw standing above him a crowd of human forms. A wild
cry escaping from his lips expressed his terror and astonishment. Then
a second, in louder tone, was intended to give the alarm to his kindred,
who might possibly hear it.
With an Indian, as with the wild animals, presence of mind is rather an
instinct than an act of reason. Instead of being disconcerted by what
he saw, and losing time to recover himself, the Mura at once plunged his
paddle into the water, and commenced beating backward, assisted by the
recoil of the canoe, which, on striking the dead-wood, had rebounded
from it by the violence of the collision.
In a moment he had sculled himself almost clear of the arcade; he was
already within a few feet of its mouth, and would soon be back upon the
open lagoa, when he would undoubtedly make for the malocca, and bring
the whole tribe of cannibals upon them. None of the party thought of
pursuing him. There was an attempt made to seize the canoe at the
moment of its closing upon the log, but the craft had recoiled so
suddenly after the collision, and been paddled so rapidly out of reach,
that it all ended in Tipperary Tom getting soused in the water, and
nearly drowned before he could be dragged out again. The attempt at
seizure might have had a different result had Munday been among those
who made it. But he was not.
He was nowhere to be seen upon the log, nor anywhere else! What had
become of him? None of them could say. Little Rosa was the only one
who could give any explanation of his absence. She thought she had seen
him slip off at the back of the log, while the canoe was coming on in
front. She was not sure, it was so dark upon that side; and she had
been too much engaged in regarding the approach of the savage.
Had he made off to conceal himself among the tree-tops? Had he gone to
secure his own safety, and abandoned his friends to their fate? They
could not think this. Such a cowardly act would have been contrary to
all they knew of the brave Mundurucu, whose faithfulness had so many
times been put to the severest test. No one could account for it.
Just at that critical moment when the canoe had reached the mouth of the
arcade, a dark round thing, like a human head, rose up in the water some
six feet before it, and then another dark thing, wonderfully like a
human hand, shot up beside the head, followed by a long and sinewy arm.
The hand was seen to strike upward and clutch the canoe close by the
stem; and then the craft went down, one end under water, while the other
flew up into the air; then there was a capsize,--the savage, with a
shriek and a loud plash, falling out; and then there was a struggle,--
now under water, now above the surface,--accompanied by strange choking
noises, as if two enormous alligators were engaged in a conflict of life
and death.
As the astonished spectators continued to gaze upon the scene,--still
but imperfectly comprehended by them,--they saw that the combatants were
coming nearer, as if the struggle was being carried on towards the end
of the arcade, and was likely to terminate where they stood.
And there it did end, immediately after, by the missing tapuyo making
his appearance alongside the log, and dragging beside him the man who
had made that involuntary "header" from the canoe.
The latter no longer resisted. The knife-blade glittering between
Munday's teeth--a taste of whose quality the savage had already
experienced--hindered him from offering any further resistance; and as
they came up to the log, the two were swimming side by side peaceably,
only that the action of one was evidently involuntary, while the other
was directing it.
It was more like the companionship of a policeman and a thief, than that
of two swimmers who chanced to be going the same way. One arm of the
Mura was clutched by the Mundurucu, as if the captive was partly
supported while being dragged along.
"Reach out there, patron, and pull him up!" cried Munday, as he
conducted his captive alongside the log. "I don't want to kill the
animal, though that might be the safest way in the end."
"No, no, don't do that!" returned Trevannion, who now, along with all
the others, had arrived at a full comprehension of the affair. "We can
keep him secure enough; and, if his shouts have not been heard, we need
not fear having him along with us." As the patron spoke, he reached
down, and, laying hold of the captive, drew him close to the side of the
dead-wood. Then, assisted by Munday in the water and Mozey upon the
log, the Mura was hoisted aboard.
Once upon the dead-wood, a more abject wretch than the captive Mura
could not have been found. He trembled from head to foot,--evidently
believing that he was about to be killed, and perhaps eaten. He had
only consented to be taken in the knowledge--which Munday had in some
way conveyed to him--that resistance could but end in instant death; and
there are few, even amongst the most reckless of savages, who will not
yield to this.
As he stood dripping upon the dead-wood, a red stream, trickling down
his wet skin from a knife-wound in the shoulder, explained how the
tapuyo had made known to him the idleness of resistance. It was a first
stab, and not dangerous; but it had given a foretaste of what was to
follow, had the struggle been kept up. After receiving this hint, the
Mura had surrendered; and the after commotion was caused by his being
towed through the water by a captor who was required to use all his
strength and energy in supporting him.
While the canoe-man was advancing up the arcade, the Mundurucu, instead
of waiting till he came near, had dropped quietly into the water, and
swum in an outward direction, as if intending to meet the
manatee-hunter, face to face. This he actually did,--met and passed
him, but without being seen. The darkness favoured him, as did also the
commotion already caused by the wounded cow-fish, which in its passage
up the creek had left large waves upon the water. These, striking
against the trunks of the trees, created a still further disturbance,
amidst which the swimmer's dark face and long swarthy locks could not
have been easily distinguished.
Supporting himself by a branch, he awaited the return of the savage,--
knowing that as soon as the latter set eyes upon the others he would
instantly beat a retreat. All turned out just as the tapuyo had
anticipated; and just as he had designed did he deal with the canoe-man.
In all this, the only thing that appeared singular was the tapuyo's
taking so much pains to go out near the entrance, instead of boldly
laying hold of the canoe as it passed him on its way inwards, or indeed
of waiting for it upon the log,--where any one of the others, had he
been a strong swimmer and armed with a knife, might have effected the
capture.
Munday, however, had good reasons for acting as he had done. While the
canoe was approaching, who could tell that it would come close up? It
had done so, even to striking the dead-wood with its bow; but Munday
could not rely upon such a chance as that. Had the savage discovered
their presence a little sooner, he would have turned and sculled off,
before any swimmer could have come up with him.
A similar reason was given for gliding stealthily past, and getting on
the other side. Had the Mundurucu acted otherwise, he might have been
perceived before he could seize the canoe, and so give time for the
manatee-hunter to make off. As this last would have been a terrible
contingency, rendering their discovery almost a certainty, the cunning
old man knew how important it was that no mismanagement should occur in
the carrying out of his design.
"If that rascal's shout has been heard," said Trevannion, "there will be
but little chance of our escaping capture. From what you saw, I suppose
there are hundreds of these hideous creatures. And we, without weapons,
without the means either of attack or defence, what could we do? There
would be nothing for it but to surrender ourselves as prisoners."
The Mundurucu was not able to offer a word of encouragement. To have
attempted defence against a whole tribe of savages, armed, no doubt,
with spears and poisoned arrows, would have been to rush madly on death.
"It is fortunate," continued the ex-miner, "that you have not killed
him."
"Why, patron?" demanded the tapuyo, apparently in some surprise.
"It would have made them revengeful; and if we have the ill-luck to be
taken, they would have been the more certain to destroy us."
"No, no," answered the Indian,--"not a bit more certain to do that. If,
as you say, we have the bad luck to become their captives, we shall be
killed all the same. Their old revenge will be strong enough for that;
and if not their revenge, they have an appetite that will insure our
destruction. You understand, patron?"
This conversation was carried on in a low tone, and only between
Trevannion and the tapuyo.
"O Heaven!" groaned the ex-miner, turning his eyes upon his children.
"It would be a fearful fate for--for all of us."
"The more reason for doing all we can to avoid falling into their
hands."
"But what can we do? Nothing! If they discover our hiding-place before
nightfall, then we shall surely be taken."
"Admit that, master; but if they do not--"
"If they do not, you think there would be some hope of our getting away
from them?"
"A good hope,--a good hope."
"On the raft?"
"Better than that, patron."
"You have some plan?"
"I've been thinking of one; but it's no use to speak of it, so long as
we are in doubt this way. If we are left unmolested until night, then,
patron, it will be time to declare it. Could you but promise me that
this screecher hasn't been heard, I think I could promise you that by
midnight we should not only be beyond the reach of his bloodthirsty
fellows, but in a fair way of getting out of our troubles altogether.
Ha! yonder's something must be looked to; I forgot that."
"What?"
"The _igarite_. How near it was to betraying us! Its course must be
stopped this instant." And he once more slipped down into the water and
swam away.
The canoe, out of which the Mura had been so unceremoniously spilled,
and which was now bottom upwards, was drifting outward. It was already
within a few feet of the entrance, and in another minute would have been
caught by the breeze stirring beyond the branches of the trees. Once
outside, it would soon have made way into the open lagoa, and would have
formed a conspicuous mark for the eyes of the malocca.
Munday swam silently, but with all his strength, towards it. It must be
reached before it could drift outside; and for some time there was
apprehension in the minds of the spectators that this might not be done.
The only one of them that would have been gratified by a failure was
the captive Mura. But the wretch showed no sign of his desire, knowing
that there would be danger in his doing so. He was held fast in the
strong arms of the negro; while Tipperary Tom stood near, ready to run
him through with the spear in case of his making any attempt to escape.
Their apprehensions soon came to an end. The tapuyo overtook it before
it had cleared the screening of tree-tops; and, laying hold of a piece
of cord which was attached to its stem, took it in tow. In less than
five minutes after, it might have been seen right side up, lying like a
tender alongside the grand monguba.
CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE.
A DAY SPENT IN SHADOW.
All day long did our adventurers abide in silence, keeping close in
their shadowy retreat. Now and then only the Mundurucu swam to the
entrance of the arcade; and, screened by the trees, took a survey of the
open water outside. He saw only a canoe, larger than that he had
captured, with three men in it, out upon the lagoa, about two hundred
yards from the edge, and opposite the malocca, which could not itself be
seen, as it was some distance back among the trees; but, from the
bearings he had taken on the night previous, the tapuyo knew where it
lay.
He watched the canoe so long as it remained in sight. The gestures of
the savages who were in it showed that they were occupied in fishing,
though what sort of fish they might be taking in the flooded lake Munday
could not guess. They stayed about an hour; and then, paddling their
craft back among the trees, were seen no more.
This gratified the tapuyo and those to whom he made his report. It was
evidence that the harpooner had come out alone, and that, while striking
the cow-fish, he had not been observed by any of his people. Had that
incident been witnessed, every canoe in possession of the tribe would
have instantly repaired to the spot.
Since the killing of a juaroua is an event of rare occurrence in the
season of the _vasante_, when it does transpire it causes the same
joyful excitement in a malocca of Amazonian Indians as the capture of a
great walrus would in a winter village of Esquimaux. It was, therefore,
quite clear to our adventurers, that no suspicion had been aroused as to
the cause of the harpooner's absence from the malocca, and so they were
enabled to endure their imprisonment with calmer confidence, and higher
hopes of finally effecting their escape.
How long would this state of things continue? How long might the Mura
be away before his absence should excite suspicion and lead to a search?
"As to such a thing as this," said Munday, pointing contemptuously to
the shivering captive, "he'll no more be missed than would a coaita
monkey that had strayed from its troop. If he's got a wife, which I
don't suppose he has, she'll be only too glad to get rid of him. As for
any one of them coming after him through affection, as you call it,
there you're all out, patron. Among Muras there's no such feeling as
that. If they'd seen him strike the juaroua it might have been
different. Then their stomachs would have brought them after him, like
a flock of hungry vultures. But they haven't seen him; and unless
chance guides some one this way we needn't be in any fear for to-day.
As for the morrow, if they'll only stay clear till then, I think I can
keep my promise, and we shall not only be beyond reach of Muras, but out
of this wretched lagoa altogether."
"But you spoke of a plan, good Munday; you have not yet told us what it
is."
"Wait, master," he rejoined; "wait till midnight, till the lights go out
in the Mura village, and perhaps a little longer. Then you shall know
my plan by seeing it carried into execution."
"But does it not require some preparations? If so, why not make them
while it is daylight? It is now near night; and you may not have time."
"Just so, patron; but night is just the preparation I want,--that and
this knife."
Here Munday exhibited his shining blade, which caused the Mura captive
to tremble all over, thinking that his time was come. During all the
day he had not seen them eat. They had no chance to kindle a fire for
cooking purposes, apprehensive that the smoke, seen above the tree-tops,
might betray them to the enemy. Some of them, with stronger stomachs
than the rest, had gnawed a little of the _charqui_ raw. Most had eaten
nothing, preferring to wait till they should have an opportunity of
cooking it, which the Mundurucu had promised them they should have
before morning of the next day. Their abstinence was altogether
misunderstood by the Mura. The wretch thought they were nursing their
hunger to feed upon his flesh.
Could he have seen himself as he was in their eyes, he might have
doubted the possibility of getting up such an appetite. They had taken
due precautions to prevent his making his escape. Tied hand and foot by
the toughest sipos that could be procured, he was also further secured
by being fastened to the monguba. A strong lliana, twisted into a rope,
and with a turn round one of the buttress projections of the roots, held
him, though this was superfluous, since any attempt to slide off into
the water must have terminated by his going to the bottom, with neither
hands nor feet free.
They were determined, however, on making things doubly sure, as they
knew that his escape would be the signal for their destruction. Should
he succeed in getting free, he would not need his canoe; he could get
back to his village without that, for, as Munday assured them, he could
travel through the trees with the agility of an ape, or through the
water with the power of a fish; and so could all his people, trained to
the highest skill both in climbing and swimming, from the very nature of
their existence.