LIVELY WORK.
Now took place an unprecedented incident.
The air of comity, or at least neutrality, which brooded over the two
parties had given way to that of silent but intense hostility. The
prowling movement of the native with the spear as he slipped into the
wood, the sudden advance of Jared Long, whose face became like a
thunder-cloud, when every hope of a friendly termination vanished, and
the abrupt halt of the bowman, showed that all parties had thrown off
the cloak of good will and become deadly enemies.
The third savage kept his place farther down the stream, his black eyes
fixed on the archer in front, while he doubtless was waiting for some
action on the part of his comrade who had stolen into the wood. As has
been stated, he was nigh enough to hurl his javelin, so that both the
white men were too wise to eliminate him from the curiously involved
problem that confronted them.
The bowman having halted, stood a moment with his piercing black eyes
fixed on the nearest white man, as if seeking to read in his face the
meaning of his action or rather abrupt cessation of action.
"Professor," called Jared, "I'll attend to the one in front of you; but
look out for the scamp among the trees."
Grimcke was relieved to hear this, and had there been only the two
natives to confront, he would have been disturbed by no misgiving, but
there were signs that the third one down the stream was preparing to do
his part in the treacherous business. He too began advancing, but
instead of doing so with the quick, angry stride of the New Englander,
he stepped slowly and softly, as if seeking to conceal his movement.
Grimcke would have been glad to turn the archer over to the care of
Long, but he was so frightfully close, that he did not dare do so. A
moment's delay on the part of his friend would be fatal. At the same
time, it was not to be forgotten that the most stealthy foe of all was
prowling among the trees on the right.
The Professor's hope, as has been explained, was that his own
retrogression had disconcerted the plans of this special miscreant for
whom, however, he kept a keen watch.
The archer still held his bow, with the arrow in place grasped by his
right hand, the long weapon resting against his hip. Provided he was
right-handed, the bow would have to be shifted to his left hand, the
arrow drawn back with the right and the missile then launched at his
foe. This, it would seem, involved enough action to give both Grimcke
and Long abundance of time in which to anticipate him.
But there remained the possibility that the savage was left-handed, in
which event, the necessary action on his part would be much less,
though sufficiently complicated to afford the white men abundance of
time to anticipate him.
The native _was_ left-handed, with a quickness that surpassed all
expectation, the bow was suddenly raised, the end of the arrow drawn
back and the missile driven directly at the breast of Grimcke.
At precisely the same instant, the latter's strained ear caught the
crackling of a twig, above the din of the rapids (which was much less
there than below), and something was discerned moving among the trees
on his right. His frightened glance in that direction gave him a
glimpse of a dusky figure in the act of hurling his javelin.
Thus it was that the spearman and archer let fly at precisely the same
instant, and Jared Long, who was so anxious to help his friend, saw
only the deft movements of the archer. Grimcke could not fire at both
in time to save himself, but he instinctively did the very best and
indeed the only thing that could be done. Without moving his feet, he
dropped to a sitting posture, instantly popping up again like a
jack-in-the-box.
The movement took place at precisely the right instant, and both the
javelin and arrow whizzed over his head, without grazing him, but the
arrow shot by Long's temple so close that he blinked and for an instant
believed he had been hit.
But, like the hunter when bitten by a rattlesnake, he determined to
crush his assailant and to attend to his hurt afterwards.
The sharp crack of the Winchester, the shriek of the smitten savage and
his frenzied leap in the air, followed in such instant succession that
they seemed simultaneous. When the wretch went back on the ground he
was as dead as Julius Caesar.
A man can fire with amazing rapidity, when using a Winchester repeater,
but some persons are like cats in their own movements. The New
Englander leveled his weapon as quickly as he could bring it to his
shoulder, but the native along the side of the Xingu had vanished as
though he never existed.
Whether he knew anything about fire-arms or not, he was quick to
understand that some kind of weapon in the hands of the white men had
knocked the bowman out of time, and he bounded among the trees at his
side, as though he, too, was discharged from the bow. He was just
quick enough to escape the bullet that would have been after him an
instant later.
The moment Grimcke knew that he was safe from the javelin, which sped
over his head, he straightened up, and, still maintaining his removable
posture, discharged his gun at the point whence came the well-nigh
fatal missile.
But the shot was a blind one, for he did not see the native at the
instant of firing. Nothing could have surpassed the alertness of these
strange savages. The one with the javelin disappeared with the same
suddenness as did his brother down the bank, and, had the archer but
comprehended his danger he, too, would have escaped.
The affray roused the wrath of both Long and Grimcke. They had offered
the hand of friendship, only to be answered with an attempt upon their
lives. One of their assailants had eluded them, and the other would
have been an assailant had the opportunity been given.
"Let's shoot him too!"
He alluded to the man who hurled the javelin and who, so far as they
could see, was left without any weapon with which to defend himself.
In their natural excitement over their victory, the friends forgot
themselves for the moment. Heedless of consequences, they dashed among
the trees, in pursuit of the savage who had flung his spear with
well-nigh fatal effect.
The undergrowth was frightfully tangled, and, as the first plunge, the
Professor went forward on his hands and knees. The wonder was how Long
kept his feet; but it will be remembered that he was much more
attenuated than his companion, and seemed to have picked up a skill
elsewhere which now stood him well.
The moon was shining and despite the dense vegetation around him,
enough rays found their way to the ground to give him a partial view
for few paces in front. He had not gone far when he caught a glimpse
of the dusky figure slipping through the undergrowth ahead, and at no
great distance.
Strange as it may seem, the impetuosity of the American caused him to
gain upon the terrified native, who, having flung his poisoned weapon,
was without the means of defending himself. It was not in the nature
of things, however, that Long should overtake the fugitive, who was
more accustomed to making his way through such obstructions. The first
burst of pursuit caused the white man to believe he would win in the
strange race, but the next minute he saw he was losing ground.
Determined that the wretch should not escape, he checked his pursuit
for an instant, and, bringing his Winchester to his shoulder, let fly.
But brief as was his halt, it give the savage time to make one terrific
bound which shut him almost from sight, and rendered the hasty aim of
Long so faulty that his intended victim was not so much as scratched.
Had the savage dashed deeper into the forest, he would have passed
beyond all peril at this moment, but he was seeking to do that which
Long did not discover until after discharging his gun. He headed
toward the river, where he was first seen. It must have been that he
was actuated by a desire to go to the help of his comrade, or more
likely he was anxious to recover his javelin, in which he placed
unbounded faith, and believed he could do it without undue risk.
Whatever his purpose, he quickly burst from the forest, while Long, who
was pushing furiously after him, discovered from the increasing light
in front, that he was close to the Xingu again.
Suspecting his purpose, the white man tore forward at the most reckless
speed, and, before the native could recover his weapon and dart back to
cover, he himself had dashed into the moonlight.
"Now, we've got him!" he shouted; "there's no getting away _this_ time!"
This exultant exclamation was uttered to a form which appeared on his
right, and who he was certain was the Professor; but to his
consternation, as he turned his head, he saw that it was the other
native, javelin in hand!