BESIEGERS AND BESIEGED.
Suddenly a bushy bead, with a black face, horribly distorted by
passion, appeared at the window furthest from where Professor Grimcke
was standing.
The right hand was raised and in the act of poising a javelin to hurl
at the white man; but the latter, with an incredibly quick movement,
brought his Winchester to a level and fired.
The bronze skull was shattered as though it were a rotten apple, and
the Murhapa, with a resounding shriek, went backward in the darkness.
A slight rustling at the other window drew the white man's attention
thither, and, without lowering his weapon, he let fly at a group who
were simply peering within, evidently believing there was no call to
use their javelins.
Another screech told that the bullet had found its mark, and the other
faces vanished.
Then Grimcke stepped out from the wall to gain a view of the opening
which answered for a door. A rustling there told him a crowd were
gathering, but they had taken warning just in time to avoid a third
shot. Then he slipped a couple more cartridges from his belt into the
magazine, so as to keep it full, and awaited the next step in this
extraordinary business.
"I've about a hundred left," he reflected, "and that's enough to keep
things on a jump, if I can dodge their javelins."
Meanwhile, Jared Long was not idle. He had but the opening at the rear
to watch, and he did the duty well. Almost at the moment that his
comrade fired his first shot, he descried the figure of a Murhapa
trying to steal into the apartment without detection; but just enough
of the moonlight that was shut from the front doors and windows,
reached the rear of the building, to disclose the outlines of the head
and shoulders, as he began stealthily creeping into the building.
Bippo had discovered the peril at the same moment, and clutched the arm
of his master with a nervous intensity of terror. Long impatiently
shook him off, and, with the same cool quickness of Professor Grimcke,
drove a bullet through the head of the dusky miscreant, who was slain
so suddenly that he rolled convulsively backward, without any outcry.
Almost at the same instant, a second native emitted a wild shout. He
was directly behind the first and the latter lurched against him,
causing such fright that he leaped back several feet with the
involuntary cry fully understood by all whose ears it reached.
Long stood as rigid as a statue for several minutes, waiting for
another chance, but none presented. Then he reflected that his
position was much more favorable than Grimcke's, for not only had he
but the single opening to guard, but his apartment was so shrouded in
gloom that the sharpest-eyed warrior could not locate him from the
outside.
The New Englander stepped to the door communicating with the front
apartment and, barely showing himself, spoke:
"I can attend to the window on the right, Professor; leave that to me,
while you watch the door and the other one."
"Thanks," returned his friend; "I think there is a little too much
light in this part of the house."
Moving quickly to the hearth he heaped the ashes with his foot upon the
blazing embers, until they were so smothered that only a few tiny
twists of flame struggled through the covering. This left the place in
such darkness that a sense of security instantly came to him.
"Good!" called the New Englander, who could no longer be discerned;
"that makes matters more nearly equal!"
Although, as we have said, the moonlight was substantially shut off
from the front of the heavy structure, yet the moon itself, being full,
so illumined the surroundings that it was quite easy to distinguish the
head and figure of any one of their enemies the instant he presented
himself at one of the openings.
What both the defenders feared was, that the savages would make a
sudden rush and force themselves within the cabin in spite of the
disastrous reception they were sure to be given. Such an essay was
certain to result in the overthrow of the whites, but the Murhapas must
have realized the cost it would be to them. Brave as they were, they
hesitated to incur the consequences until other means had failed.
Professor Ernest Grimcke now did a most daring thing. The fierce
welcome he had given the attacking Murhapas resulted in their temporary
demoralization. Knowing they would speedily recover, he decided to
take advantage of the panic by an attempt to intensify it.
Striding to the door he paused on the very threshold and peered out
upon the large space in his field of vision.
Fully a hundred savages were in sight. Apparently they had been
crowding around the entrance when the shots from within caused a hasty
scattering. They had halted a dozen yards or so away, where they were
talking excitedly, still frightened and enraged, and with no thought of
relinquishing the fight.
They had withdrawn so far from the front of the building that they were
in the strong moonlight, and consequently in full view of the white
man, who saw others of the natives hurrying from the right and left.
Among them were women and children and the confusion and excitement
were fearful.
Standing thus, Grimcke again raised his repeater and deliberately
opened fire on the crowd. It seemed cruel, but it was an act of
self-defence, for those people were clamoring for the lives of the two
men within, and would not be satisfied until they were at their mercy.
It was a strange scene that followed. The interior of the building
being dark, while the moonlight failed to touch the front, the figure
of the white man was invisible to the dusky wretches howling on the
outside.
All at once, from the black opening of the building, came the crash of
the repeating Winchester. Spouts of fire shot out into the gloom in
terrific succession, as if fiery serpents were darting their heads in
different directions; for the marksman aimed, quickly to the right, to
the left and to the front, never pausing until he had discharged half a
score of shots.
The panic for a minute or two was indescribable. Men, women and
children shrieked and scattered for the nearest available shelter.
Behind the buildings and down the river bank they dashed, stumbled and
rolled, until, but for the tragic nature of the scene, the white man
would have smiled.
But he had done enough, and he stepped back within the room to
replenish the magazine of his rifle.
Jared Long had been drawn into the room by the furious fusillade, and
now put the startling question whether advantage could not be taken of
the panic to make a sudden dash for the woods. It would never do to
make for the boat still resting against the shore, for it would be
filled with poisoned javelins before they could shove out into the
Xingu.
"I believe we can," replied the Professor; "it will take them some
minutes to get over their panic and that will be enough for us."
"Let us leave by the rear," said Long, "for I don't think that is so
well guarded."
The two turned to attempt the dash for freedom, when a cry from Bippo
struck them.
"Stay here," exclaimed the New Englander, fearing that a diversion was
on foot; "and I'll attend to him!"
He was back in the apartment in an instant. The light on the hearth
having been extinguished, the gloom in this portion of the building was
impenetrable, but a fearful struggle of some kind was going on. Some
animal or person had got within and grappled Bippo who was fighting
like a tiger.
Had the New Englander been able to distinguish the combatants, he would
have ended the contest in a twinkling, but though the two rolled
against his feet, he dared not fire through fear of hurting his friend.
"Are you under or on top?" he asked, bending downward at the moment he
knew from the peculiar sounds the foes had become stationary.
"_He on top_," was the doleful response.
Long extended his right hand to learn precisely how matters stood, or
rather lay, when it came in contact with the arm of a Murhapa in the
act of raising it aloft to bury his knife in the body of the helpless
Bippo, who was at the mercy of the savage, holding him inextricably in
his grasp.
The American secured a firm hold of the forearm, and with a powerful
wrench, not only jerked the miscreant free, but flung him from one side
of the room clean to the door, where he was visible in the faint light
beyond.
Evidently concluding that his mission in that place was over, he nimbly
came to his feet and shot like a rocket through the opening.
The New Englander was in no mood for sentimentality, and, he levelled
his weapon with the intention to kill; but quick as he was, he was just
a fraction of a minute too late, and, much to his chagrin, the dusky
wretch got away unharmed.
Long darted into the front room, ready for the proposal he had made
just before.
The Professor was peering out, seemingly debating whether it was not
advisable to re-open his bombardment.
"It beats creation," he remarked, as his friend appeared at his elbow,
"how quickly those fellows rally; their heads are popping up in every
direction, and it won't do to try to steal out this way."
"But I suggested the rear," reminded Long.
"Let's see how matters look there."
The survey from the other opening was disappointing. Although all the
Murhapas had been affected in a greater or less degree by the panic,
yet it was more incomplete at the rear, because the confusing volley
had not come from that direction.
There seemed to be fully as many warriors on this side, which, with the
exception of the river, was quite similar in appearance to the other.
The shadowy figures were observed moving noiselessly in a dozen
different directions, their heads bent down and their bodies crouching,
as if in expectation of a shot, but, at the same time, they were not to
be frightened off by any fusilade from within.
"We're just too late," remarked the Professor, quick to take in every
point of the situation; "we might have done it a minute ago, but they
are watching too closely now."
"Let's open again," suggested the New Englander.
"Better wait awhile; they can be stampeded easier then than now," was
the reply of the Professor.
During this lull, when it may be said the defenders were becoming
accustomed to the siege, they had time to give a few minutes' thought
to their absent friends, Fred Ashman and Ziffak, regarding whom it was
natural to feel great curiosity.
They believed themselves warranted in hoping for the best, so far as
Ashman was concerned. He had probably strolled some distance, and must
have been warned by the firing of the Professor's Winchester from the
front, of the serious danger in which his friends were involved. If
all had gone well with the youth up to that time, he ought to be wise
enough to get away without an instant's delay. What was feared was,
that in his anxiety to help his comrades, he would run into a peril
from which he could not extricate himself.
The real hope for the youth was centered on Ziffak. Believing he had
gone forth to look after Ashman, they were confident he would speedily
get upon his track. If so, he would not permit him to return to the
village.
From what the reader has been told, it will be seen that the defenders
were not far off in their conjectures.
But, when they came to speculate upon the part that the head chieftain
was likely to take, affecting Grimcke and Long, they were all at sea.
It would ever be a source of wonder that he had been transformed from a
relentless enemy into the strongest of friends, but they fully realized
that such friendship must have its bounds.
Ziffak might not shrink from using very plain speech when talking face
to face with his brother, but it was hardly to be supposed that he
would raise his arm against his authority. At the time Ziffak made
known the probability that the explorers might be compelled to take
their departure that evening, he gave no intimation of any purpose of
helping them to resist such an order.
Accustomed as he was to lead the warlike Murhapas in battle, he might
well hesitate to ask them to turn their weapons against the king, and
if he should presume on such treason, all the probabilities were that
such weapons would be turned against the head chieftain himself.