THE NICK OF TIME.
The peril which menaced the explorers was more frightful than any that
they had been called upon to face since entering that mysterious land
known by the name of the Matto Grosso.
The Aryks numbered more than half a hundred, all active, vigilant and
armed with their fearful poisoned javelins. They had taken position
among the trees on the western bank of the Xingu, at the base of the
rapids, at the very point where the white men intended to shoulder
their canoe and make their last portage.
Instead of being in the open, where they were in plain sight of the
defenders, and fair targets for their unerring Winchesters, they were
stationed behind the numerous trunks or lying on the ground, where
little could be seen of them except their bushy heads and gleaming
black eyes, as they glared with inextinguishable hate at the white men
who had slain so many of their number.
The suspicious Long was looking in the direction, with the thought that
if any ambush was attempted, that would be the very spot, when he
caught sight of a dusky figure, as it whisked from behind a narrow
trunk to another that afforded better cover.
That hasty glance in the dim morning light revealed an alarming number
of heads glaring around the trees and from among the undergrowth like
so many wild beasts, aflame with fury and the exultation of savages who
knew that their enemies were at last forced inextricably into their
grasp.
So assured were the Aryks in fact that they showed a disposition to toy
for a moment with their victims, as a cat does with a mouse before
craunching it in her jaws. They brandished their weapons, danced
grotesquely and uttered shrill shrieks audible above the deafening roar
of the angry Xingu as it foamed through the rapids.
It was a fearful trap in which our friends found themselves, for it was
impossible to advance or retreat, and it was madness to hope that they
could again escape the shower of spears that were already poised in the
air and ready to be launched.
Bippo and Pedros, with wild shrieks of terror bounded into the canoe,
and wrapping the blankets around them, cowered in abject helpless dread
of impending death. They were only an incumbrance, as they had proven
in more than one crisis before.
But not one of the Caucasians showed the white feather. Disdaining to
seek impossible shelter, they coolly prepared to die fighting, while
exposed to the hurtling javelins, whose appalling effectiveness they
knew too well.
But at this appalling juncture, when life hung on the passing moment, a
piercing shout rang out above the roar of the waters.
It came from a point behind them, and, despite the imminent peril all
three looked around.
A small canoe was darting across the Xingu toward them, so close to the
foot of the rapids, that it danced about like a cork and seemed certain
to be submerged every minute.
In this frail craft sat the giant Ziffak, propelling it across the
furious swirl with such prodigious power that though the spume dashed
over it, the boat was driven by the sheer power of his mighty arms
under, above, and through the waters.
It was he who uttered the resounding cry which caused the wondering
explorers to turn their heads, and stayed the uplifted arms of the
venomous Aryks.
All saw the giant head chieftain of the Murhapas who repeated the shout
and added an exclamation that was a command, forbidding his allies to
hurl a single weapon.
They must have deemed him mad, but if so he was ten times more to be
dreaded than if sane. Not a javelin was launched, but all stood
motionless awaiting his arrival, and doubtless believing he meant them
to pause only long enough to place himself at their head as the leader.
They must have thought, too, that his appearance so filled the whites
with fear that their arms were paralyzed, for, though he was in direct
range, not a hand of the foreigners was raised to do him hurt.
Coming with such tremendous speed, Ziffak occupied but a moment in
passing the remaining distance. Before the prow of his boat could
touch land, he flung the paddle aside, spurned the canoe with his foot,
caught up his huge spear, and with one bound placed himself opposite
the wondering trio of white men, while two more leaps landed him among
the Aryks.
Grimcke, Ashman and Long had read aright the meaning of the amazing
demonstration and calmly awaited the issue.
Pausing in the very middle of the dusky force, he addressed them in
their native tongue, with savage gestures and a fierceness of tones
which rendered every word audible amid the roaring tumult.
Only a second or two was required for him to finish his harangue, when
he made a final command for them to fall back, emphasized by the swing
of his tremendous arms.
No more striking proof could have been given of the sway of this mighty
warrior over his vassals, than was shown by their instant obedience to
the order, which fell upon them like the bursting of a thunderbolt from
the clear summer sky.
They did not scatter and flee, for they had not been directed to do so,
but skurried several rods back among the trees, so as to leave the way
open for the explorers to pass around the rapids to the calmer waters
above.
Ziffak did not remove his eyes from the natives, until he saw that his
commands were not only obeyed, but that it was understood by them that
the white men were not to be molested.
This extraordinary person had hastened to the other shore, in
accordance with his pledge, only to learn from a couple of Aryks whom
he met that the main body of warriors had again crossed the Xingu above
the rapids, and were gathered in the wood waiting for the whites to
walk into the trap set for them.
Had our friends remained where he left them, no danger would have been
encountered, but, as we have shown, they moved up stream and came
within a hair's-breadth of being wiped from the face of the earth
before their powerful ally could interfere.
The breaking morning gave Ziffak his first knowledge of the mistake
they had made, and, leaping into his canoe, he drove it across the
stream with resistless speed, reaching the spot in the nick of time,
and barely doing that, since he was forced to raise his voice while yet
on the river, in order to hold the battle in suspense.
Having satisfied himself that everything was adjusted, Ziffak now
turned around, and, without the least appearance of agitation on his
swarthy countenance, signified that the path was open for them to
continue their journey.
Reaching into the canoe, Ashman seized Bippo by the nape of the neck
and hoisted him out on land. He did the same with Pedros, both of them
howling in the extremity of mortal terror. Tearing the blankets from
their bodies, he shouted for them to give their help in carrying the
canoe and luggage around the rapids.
It was some minutes before they could comprehend in their blind way the
situation. Finally, when they saw that their deaths were postponed,
they lent their aid as eagerly as a couple of obedient dogs.
The sturdy whites were equally helpful, and the boat was quickly raised
aloft and so adjusted that its well apportioned weight bore lightly
upon the shoulders of all.
The sidelong glances which Bippo and Pedros cast at the Aryks as they
moved up the bank, brought a smile to the whites who witnessed them.
The poor fellows were ready to let go and drop down dead the moment
they felt the puncture of the whizzing javelins.
The Professor was at the head of the strange procession bearing the
boat on their shoulders. Like his companions, he moved with a springy,
elastic step, for he had received the most striking proof possible of
the friendship of Ziffak, and he foresaw the dazzling results that were
to flow from such an alliance.
Had this remarkable savage been disposed to play them false, no better
opportunity could have been given than that which occurred a few
minutes before. All he had to do was to arrive on the spot a minute
later: the Aryks would have left nothing for him except to view the
dead bodies of the whites and their servants.
As for Jared Long, the doubter, he was willing to admit that he had
made a grevious error of judgment. Had he thought that Ziffak
suspected his misgivings, he would have taken the fellow's hand, and
humbly begged his pardon.