CHAPTER IX.

A NATIVE HERCULES.

The savages that had shown such pluck in the instances described, now

gave another striking proof of their courage.

At the moment the mystified explorers were discussing the strange

appearance and actions of the white men, more than twenty of the

athletic barbarians issued as stealthily as phantoms from the trail

leading from the forest and crouched along the edge of the timber.

Their silence added impressiveness to the singular scene and prevented

their movements being observed except by Bippo, who was so terrified

that he could only tremble and point at them.

They were partly hidden by the shadow which put out a short distance

from the fringe of the wood, but there could be no doubt of their

hostile intentions. They assumed the form of a line, somewhat after

the manner of the combatants in the square of the native village. This

was to give free play to their arms in flinging their javelins.

The occasion was one in which the fate of the explorers depended upon

their promptness and bravery. Anything like timidity or hesitation

meant sure destruction, and the whites knew it.

"Into the boat!" commanded Ashman, addressing Bippo and his friends.

The words were like an electric shock to the helpers, who instantly

clambered into the canoe and lay flat behind the luggage, where they

were safe from the poisoned missiles that would soon be flying through

the air.

Those natives, with their crude weapons, were only incumbrances in a

crisis like the present.

The whites exchanged but a word or two and then opened the ball.

A savage, evidently the leader, and one who probably now saw the whites

for the first time, had the audacity to step forward a couple of paces,

and with a yell of defiance, raised his spear over his head.

Before he could launch the missile Jared Long sent a bullet through

him, and then, shifting the muzzle of his Winchester toward the line of

dusky figures, he blazed away as fast as he could sight the weapon and

pull the trigger.

At the same instant the Professor and Ashman opened, and the

bombardment which followed was enough to strike terror to the hearts of

a hundred men.

It was more than the savages could stand, but, great as was their

panic, most of them hurled one or two javelins apiece at the white men

who stood fearlessly erect and combated them. They had come from their

village prepared for a fight, and each warrior was provided with

several of the poisoned missiles.

Before the explorers had emptied the magazines of their Winchesters not

a live foe was left. The affrighted survivors, shrieking with terror,

scrambled hastily back among the trees, some of them dragging the dead

bodies, so that the spot was freed of the dusky miscreants with as much

suddenness as it had been occupied by them.

There were plenty of shots left, and, after the disappearance of the

savages, the whites fired into the woods, where they had vanished, not

with the expectation of accomplishing anything more than adding to the

panic.

When it was sure the wretches were gone, our friends made their

preparations for leaving the spot, for nothing was clearer than that

such was the wisest step to take.

It will be borne in mind that all the trouble had taken place on the

left bank of the Xingu, no savages having been observed on the western

bank. The daring of the savages could not be questioned. They had

faced death repeatedly, and now, that they had the strongest of all

motives--revenge--to prompt them, they were sure to use every means

possible to bring about the ruin of the whites and their three native

companions.

The forest, extending so close to the river, was a constant menace, for

it afforded the best kind of shelter. Indeed, had the savages been

less courageous and kept among the trees, taking a stealthy shot as the

chance offered, they would have had a much better chance of doing what

they wished and with less risk to themselves.

The javelins flung in blind desperation went wide of their mark, with

the exception of one which whizzed over the canoe within a few inches

of Bippo's head. The fellow was peeping furtively above the luggage,

and heard the whizz of the missile passing fearfully close. He

instantly ducked with such emphasis that he almost broke his nose

against the bottom of the craft.

Striking the water beyond, the spear sank as abruptly as if it were a

cannon ball.

The belief of our friends was that the troublesome natives were

entirely confined to the left bank, though it was not likely they

refrained from crossing so narrow a stream as the Xingu at its upper

portion.

If the savages had been slow to learn from their first experience with

the white men, there could be no doubt that the valuable lesson of the

last encounter would not be lost upon them. The space between the edge

of the wood and the margin of the river was so slight that it was the

easiest thing in the world for one of them to launch his javelin with

terrific force across it, and they would do so before morning, if the

chance were given them.

If the other bank were reached, the savages would be easily detected in

the bright moonlight, if they attempted to swim across or used some of

their own boats. The only way in which they could avoid detection

would be by crossing above or below this point.

They would hardly ascend the Xingu for this purpose, since the rapids

would oblige them to travel a long way, and the place of ferryage,

therefore, was likely to be below the campfire.

Such were the views of the whites, as they shoved the canoe into the

stream, and stepping within, seized the paddles, which the helpers were

too frightened to use effectively, while so near the dreaded shore.

Fred Ashman had taken but a few strokes when he handed the implement to

Bippo and ordered him to use it. Then, resuming his Winchester, he

faced the land, half suspecting they would not be allowed to reach the

other side without some demonstration on the part of their fierce

antagonists.

Time was of the first importance, and all the paddles in the craft were

plied with the utmost possible vigor, each yard passed adding to the

hope that hostilities were over for the time.

Probably three-fourths of the distance was accomplished, when a low

exclamation from Ashman caused all to cease paddling and gaze at the

shore which he was watching with such interest.

The most gigantic savage yet seen had emerged from the forest trail,

but instead of advancing to the river's edge, he halted just far enough

from the wood to allow the moonlight to inclose him. He was thus in

almost as plain-sight as if it were mid-day.

He stood in silent contemplation of the strangers that had invaded his

dominions and given his people such a dear lesson. Confident that he

could accomplish no harm, even if he wished to try it, Ashman refrained

from firing, while the company surveyed him with a feeling akin to

admiration.

He was over six feet in height and of massive proportions. He would

have been an ugly customer in a tussle where the conditions were equal,

and Ashman could not forbear the thought that he was one of the

contestants in the frightful sport he had witnessed near the village.

If so, there was little doubt that he was hailed the champion. It may

have been that he had hastened along the forest path, burning with a

desire to assail the mysterious beings who had used his countrymen so

ill, and he was filled with chagrin and disappointment that he had

arrived too late.

But there was no end to the fancies that might be formed concerning

him. That there was little imagination about Bippo was shown by his

timid request to his masters to shoot the savage. To Bippo the

elimination of a single enemy of such formidable mien was a

consummation devoutly to be prayed for. But the Professor reminded the

native that they only slew in self-defense.

All at once, the herculean savage was seen to make a motion of his arm,

and before the act could be understood, the terrified Bippo called out

that he was about to throw his javelin. At the same instant he and his

two companions cowered in the bottom of the boat, where they were

abundantly protected.

"The poor fellow is disappointed," laughed Ashman, "and he must show

his anger, even if it requires the loss of one of his----"

Something like the flitting of a bird's wing whisked so close to the

speaker's face that he involuntarily threw back his head. At the same

instant, a heavy javelin crashed through the side of the boat, as if it

were cardboard, and splashed out of sight in the water beyond.

The missile of the gigantic savage had passed between Ashman and the

Professor, missing both by a few inches.

The young man, like a flash, brought his rifle to his shoulder and

sighted at the savage who was still in plain sight, as if defying the

whites to do their worst.

But Ashman did not pull the trigger. Lowering his weapon, he said:

"You have earned your life."

The Land of Mystery · 第 9 / 39 章