SHUT IN.
The situation in which the visitors to the dominions of King Haffgo
were placed, was such as to sharpen their wits to the keenest edge.
After the departure of Fred Ashman, Ziffak talked more plainly with the
Professor and New Englander. The head chieftain told his white friends
what they had suspected; Haffgo was enraged at Ashman's presumption
with his daughter. He was in that mood indeed, in which, but for his
promise, he would have hurled his javelin at the youth before he left
the audience chamber.
Ziffak, however, was hopeful that the anger of his royal brother would
cool sufficiently to allow the visitors to remain there two days; but
he doubted whether, after all, they would want to stay that long under
the strained condition of things.
When the chieftain took his departure, it was without any hint that he
wished to have an eye to the young gentleman, but Grimcke and Long
suspected it, and their conversation became of the gravest character,
for they fully realized their peril.
They regretted the mad infatuation of their young friend with Ariel the
princess, and yet they did not blame him, for, as the New Englander
remarked, could they have believed there was any hope for them, they
would have fallen as irrestrainably in love as he.
But they did not, and, therefore, were in a frame of mind to consider
the situation more coolly than the hot-headed lover.
Both agreed that the stroll taken by Ashman was likely to bring about
trouble, but they were powerless to do anything. Ziffak was the only
individual who could manage matters in such an emergency.
It will be remembered that night had fully come at the time of the
chieftain's departure. The interior of the room would have been
wrapped in gloom, had not the mother of Ziffak made her appearance and
started a fire on the hearth at the further end of the apartment.
The white men watched her closely to see how the Murhapas were
accustomed to secure ignition. But they were disappointed. She raked
aside the ashes until some embers were disclosed beneath, which were
readily fanned into a flame. This caused the apartment to shine with a
light like that at mid-day.
She had brought in an earthen vessel of water and began broiling
several thin slices of meat on the coals. They were quickly finished,
and she then handed to each of her guests the prepared meat on an
earthen plate. All ate heartily, using their fingers for knives and
forks, while the cool water could not have been more refreshing.
Bippo and Pedros had been sleeping and resting so long that they
desired to get out doors. Since they were not likely to be recognized
in the night, if they used caution, Grimcke and Long told them to go,
but to take care they did not lose themselves.
They had hardly departed when their hostess also left, passing out by
the rear way. She did not speak, but as she was disappearing, gave the
two men such a strange look that their suspicions were awakened. Both
at that moment were reflecting upon the ominous news brought them by
Ziffak.
By a common impulse, both hastened to the rear to learn all they could
about the building in which they might be compelled to fight for their
lives.
The result was rather pleasing. The structure was heavier and more
compact than the ordinary buildings, and, in addition to the usual
opening in front, had one at the rear, through which the woman
undoubtedly passed on her way to her royal son.
Neither of these openings were provided with anything in the nature of
a door that could be closed. Whenever the rare occasions arose for
such a sealing of the inhabitants of a house, it was done by means of
furs suspended in front of the entrance.
The white men noted this with quick eyes, and then went back to the
front apartment.
"In the event of attack," said the Professor with the utmost coolness,
"you can take the rear door and I the front."
Long nodded his head; he understood and was ready.
They had hardly entered the front apartment, when both were struck by
the unusual chatter of voices on the outside. There must have been a
large gathering of people who were growing excited about something.
The Professor was about to step into the opening to learn what it
meant, when Bippo burst into the apartment, the picture of fright and
terror.
"Going to kill us!" was his alarming exclamation; "make me run--almost
kill me!"
"Where's Pedros?" asked Long.
"He scared--run into woods--won't come back--run all way to Am'zon!"
"I think he'll have to stop once or twice to get breath before he
reaches there," was the characteristic comment of the Professor, who
standing near the door, listened more closely to the threatening words
and exclamations on the outside.
It sounded singular to recognize more than one expression uttered in
English by these people, who, until a few years before were unaware
that such people were living.
But for the proof Ziffak had given of his loyalty the whites might have
connected his absence with the ugly signs outside; but the confidence
even of Jared Long in his friendship was unshaken.
"Bippo," said the Professor, speaking with the same quiet
self-possession he had shown in the first place, "they are going to
attack us; more than likely we shall be killed, but there is a chance
for you, because you are dressed like these people, and, so long as you
can keep in the shadow, you can pass for one of them; you can slip out
by the opening at the rear without being noticed; steal away, find
Pedros if you can, and leave."
The eyes of the servant seemed to protrude from his head, as he grasped
the fearful meaning of these words. Then, clutching his spear in his
hand, he whisked like a shadow into the rear apartment beyond sight.
Grimcke and Long smiled in each other's face; they could not blame the
fellow for thinking of his own safety.
"The music will begin in a few minutes," added the Professor. "I think
you had better guard the rear; you understand, Jared, that it's no time
to throw away any powder."
"I don't propose to waste my ammunition," muttered the New Englander,
as he stepped softly into the rear apartment.
Only a slight reflection from the fire on the hearth found its way into
that part of the house, which had no window; but by the dim light Jared
Long saw a dusky figure come rapidly from the door toward him. He was
on the point of raising his gun, when it spoke:
"It's me--Bippo."
"I thought you had left. Why didn't you go?"
"Love my white folks--can't leave 'em, stay die wid 'em."
This sounded very fine, but the New Englander was incredulous. He
believed that their servant was more afraid to leave than to stay. He
had probably taken a look outside and decided that he was safer under
the shelter of those three Winchesters (for the weapon of poor Aaron
Johnston was still in the possession of his friends).
Long was inclined to ask him to take charge of the extra rifle, and use
it in helping to defend themselves; but, recalling the antipathy of the
fellow against handling firearms, he decided that he would only throw
away his cartridges.
He, therefore, cautioned him to keep out of the reach of any of the
missiles that were likely to come flying into the apartment, and urged
him, in case he saw any opening, to dart out among the people and do
his best to escape.
Professor Grimcke firmly believed that the impending fight would be to
the death, and that the only issue would be the slaying of himself and
companion. It was the same danger they had faced many times, with the
difference that this was to be the last.
He surveyed his surroundings, like a general making ready to receive
the assault of a foe, and die fighting in the last ditch.
There was the door in front and the two windows, through which the
attack could be made. He could cover all three with his repeating
rifle, and, when the last struggle came, appeal to his revolver and
knife. He smiled, grimly at the reflection, that he had every ground
for believing, that the victory of the Murhapas would prove the most
costly they had ever won. Jared Long was his equal in markmanship and
coolness, and, as he coolly remarked, there would be no ammunition
wasted, by either.