THE BATTLE IN THE JUNGLE
The thing that had happened to end the feast of the Parintintins so
abruptly was that a scout, of which each party always kept numbers on
its outskirts, had rushed into their midst with news of a startling
character. He had discovered the approach of a war party of another
tribe which doubtless had been dogging their steps all day long and were
now forming for the attack.
Warfare among the tribes of the Amazon is as unceasing as it is
merciless. Each, in attempts to extend the boundaries of its territory
or hunting-grounds, looks with suspicion and resentment upon its
neighbors and by every means known to it tries to exterminate, or at
least reduce in numbers the populace around it, thereby increasing its
own measure of safety as well as its food supply.
It may, or it may not have been fortunate for the two cowering in the
clump of thorny bamboo that the attack came when it did, for in the
intense excitement that prevailed those of the savages who had time,
flew to their arms and gathered them up in one swoop; so the interchange
was not noticed. Then the dusky forms darted into the darkness that
surrounded the firelight like an impenetrable wall.
But before the last one had disappeared from view there burst upon the
silent night a chorus of cries and screams accompanied by the deep beats
of drums; and at the same instant a deluge of arrows hissed and whined
through the air in pursuit of the fleeing figures.
The arrows rattled about the clump of bamboo in which the two men were
hiding. Soon after, a line of howling savages charged out of the
darkness, flitted through the lighted area and disappeared again in the
gloom on the other side of the fire.
David drew his revolver and held it ready for action, for the first time
since Miguel had found him. He had saved the few precious cartridges he
possessed for the time when it might be necessary to defend their lives
and that time, he thought, had arrived. But the swarm of Indians swept
past them all unaware of their presence. How the savages could see in
the darkness was beyond his ability to explain; but see they did, or
otherwise they soon should have killed themselves by colliding with the
trees and many other obstructions in the forest.
The pursuit continued far beyond, as was evidenced by the shouts that
grew constantly fainter and then died in the distance. The Parintintins
had been routed completely and many of them had probably perished in the
unexpected assault; the survivors, doubtless, were scattered hopelessly
and were either in hiding or fleeing for their lives.
“We’d better get away from here,” David whispered, “but they went right
in the direction we want to go.”
“Don’t be in too big a hurry,” Miguel admonished him. “The forest is
full of Indians. I know them. There are some of them right around us
here. We can’t leave until we’re sure all have gone.”
The wisdom of his words was demonstrated a moment later, when a shadowy
form flitted out of the night and made for one of the clusters of arrows
that had been deserted when the charge came. He had hardly reached the
spot when there came the snarl of an arrow, followed by a dull thud, and
the Indian pitched headlong to the ground.
It was as Miguel had said. Unseen eyes were watching the fire in
anticipation of the return of some of the routed savages for their
effects. But greatly to the relief of the onlookers, no others came.
After an hour’s nerve-racking silence the crackling of twigs told of the
return of the victorious party and presently the vanguard, in small
groups, came into view. They were talking and gesticulating wildly; then
half a dozen others who had acted as sentinels around the fire joined
them. Soon more came until there must have been over a hundred.
They piled wood on the fire until they had a blaze roaring toward the
tree tops, while a train of sparks, like miniature comets, soared high
above the forest. That served as a signal to announce victory, and after
a short time a group of women and children appeared out of the jungle
and joined the warriors. The women carried baskets on their backs; they
were filled with calabashes, and packages wrapped in green leaves.
When all had arrived the celebration of the victory began. The remainder
of the tapir was placed in the fire to roast; bundles were unwrapped,
revealing quantities of fish, Brazil nuts, cassava bread and corn.
The women took full charge of preparing the food, the men spending the
time in animated conversation and argument.
When the meat was roasted they all sat around the fire and ate. Water
had been brought in some of the calabashes from which they frequently
took long drinks.
The two watchers began to think that the eating would last all night
when one of the Indians sprang to his feet and began to gesticulate with
his arms. He went through the performance of pursuing and slaying an
enemy in such a graphic way that they could not fail to understand his
meaning. When he finished another jumped up and went through a similar
pantomime; and after him, another and then another until each of the
warriors had demonstrated just how he had dealt with at least one
Parintintin.
David felt that if the Indians were telling the truth it had gone hard
indeed with the pursued; but he suspected that most of the versions were
given merely for the dramatic effect, because the victors outnumbered
the vanquished two to one.
When the last speaker had finished the men started a dance around the
fire, while the women and children withdrew into the background to
watch. Some of the dancers picked up empty calabashes and beat them like
drums. All of them shouted at the top of their voices as they leaped
about the blaze, the ruddy light reflected in flickering patches on
their bare, brown bodies.
Day was breaking when the assemblage gradually broke up into small
groups that lay down on the ground to sleep. Only two of the men
remained awake near the now rapidly dying fire, apparently for the
purpose of warning the sleepers if there should be a surprise attack.
David and Miguel were in an unenviable predicament. Their limbs ached
from long remaining in their cramped quarters in the bamboo clump. They
could not move about and they dared not go to sleep. The faintest
rustling noise, the slightest movement might arouse the Indians and
cause an investigation. And they knew what discovery would mean.
It was noon when the first of the sleepers began to stir and within a
few minutes the whole party was moving about. Their actions were now in
great contrast to those of the early morning. They seemed in a hurry to
get away.
The men collected their bows and arrows and the women packed the
remnants of food and the calabashes into their baskets. Then the whole
party vanished in the forest, heading in the direction in which the
Parintintins had fled.
“I thought they were going to stay forever.” David sighed with relief.
“Now I can stretch my legs. I’m asleep all over, except my head.”
“Roll over a few times,” Miguel advised, “and you’ll feel better.”
They both did this for a few moments and then crawled out into the open.
Once on their feet, they lost no time in leaving the locality.
After walking rapidly for an hour, Miguel, who was in the lead, stopped
suddenly.
“Listen,” he said, raising one hand.
David stopped and listened intently.
“I hear a faint noise, like a breeze in the tree-tops,” he said.
“Yes. That’s it. But it’s not wind, it’s water.”
“Yes, it is water. I can hear it better now. It must be a big river.”
“With a high fall in it. Only a great waterfall could make such a
noise.”
“What will we do?” David asked.
“Go to it. It’s just what we want. We’ll make a raft and drift down with
the current.” Miguel’s dark face lighted up with enthusiasm. “It will be
easier than having to walk.”
“First, let’s eat. I’m almost starved,” David suggested.
“Me, too. But I’m afraid to start a fire. Better wait until we get to
the river,” Miguel said apprehensively. “There can’t be too much
distance between the Indians and us to suit me.”
They tramped on. David was now trailbreaker. They took turns at this for
the vegetation was growing heavier constantly and the leader had to use
his knife frequently to cut through the sprouts and creepers that
disputed their way.
It was after cutting a path through one of the thickets that David
caught sight of some living creature disappearing among the dense
growth. He did not know what it was, for the glimpse had been a fleeting
one, so he stopped to tell Miguel, but before he had finished the
sentence an arrow tore its way through the leaves a few inches on one
side of them.
They needed no further proof to tell them that the vanishing form had
been that of an Indian. Dashing back over their trail they fled in a
wide detour of the spot and then advanced more cautiously. There was no
question but that the savage would take up the pursuit. And a long,
quavering note like that of a forest dove that reached their ears was a
signal to other Indians who must be in the neighborhood.
A second call, low and plaintive, came in answer to the first. It was
directly in front of them. They dropped into the shadow between two
buttressed roots of a giant tree just in time to see two nude savages
appear and make their way stealthily toward the spot from which the
first one had signalled.
“The forest is full of Indians,” Miguel whispered when they had
disappeared. “They are calling one another for a discussion. Then they
will try to catch us.”
“Let’s go, then. The bigger the start we have the harder it will be for
them to find us,” David panted. “If we stay here they’re sure to catch
us.”
“The river! The river!” Miguel whispered. “We must get to the river.
Come on.”
They darted away at a rapid pace, making toward the roaring sound that
was rapidly growing louder. The going was terrible. Instead of stopping
to use the knife in clearing a path as before, they crashed through the
dense clumps of dwarf bamboo, matted ferns and thick sprouts. The sharp
thorns covering some of the growths slashed their clothing into ribbons
and tore into their flesh; and more than once they fell to the ground
when creepers, like steel wires, encircled their feet and tripped them.
The cooing voices of the Indians were not far behind them. Occasionally
they heard the breaking of branches and the swishing of the leaves where
the pursuing savages fought their way through the jungle. It was
fortunate that the vegetation was so dense that they could not be seen
and thus afford easy targets for the arrows of the forest men.
“It can’t be far now,” Miguel said encouragingly. The roar of the water
had become so loud that he was compelled to shout to make himself heard.
David was too breathless from his exertions to talk, so he nodded his
head in assent. They could not hear their pursuers now, but there was no
doubt about their being hot on the trail, which they would not leave
until the fugitives had been overtaken.
At last the two fought their way through the last living wall of green
and stood on the brink of the river. They were a sorry sight, bleeding
from numerous cuts and bruises, their clothing in shreds, and on the
point of exhaustion.
Before them lay a deep gorge through which the river, of considerable
size, rushed over a bed littered with huge boulders. There was no
crossing the stream; even a boat would have been short-lived in the
maelstrom that hissed and boiled a hundred feet below them.
They took in the situation at a glance, and it seemed as if they were in
a worse dilemma than before. The Indians were approaching on one side,
cutting off retreat, and the river prevented further flight in that
direction.
There was no time to ponder the situation. Miguel peered over the
embankment. Then, beckoning to David to follow, he slid over the edge,
held to it for a moment and let go.
David looked down just in time to see his companion stop against a flat
rock twenty feet below and in a moment he had landed by his side. Then
followed a second drop into a clump of bushes; it was higher than the
first but the springy boughs broke the force of the fall.
The remainder of the descent was easier. There was a slant to the wall
down which they slid to the rocks on the very edge of the water.
A hasty survey of the situation showed that the sides of the gorge
up-stream were the more precipitous; and the pathway on the margin of
the seething flood was safer, so they started in that direction,
clambering over the slippery boulders where a misstep meant a plunge
into the water below. What they sought was a place where it would be
impossible to be seen from above, and when this had been attained they
stopped to rest.
Ahead of them was the marvellous spectacle of a cataract dashing over a
series of steplike rocks and ending in a sheer fall ten feet or more in
height.
The prospect was discouraging in spite of momentary safety. If they
should turn downstream they would become easy marks for the Indians, who
must have reached the brink of the gorge by that time; up-stream was the
wall of roaring water, but toward it they went.
“Come,” David shouted to Miguel, who was close at his heels. “I want to
see the falls and--and--what’s under them.”
Miguel did not understand the meaning of the words but when they were
abreast of the curtain of water he saw the facts at a glance.
The falling body of crystal liquid did not, of course, hug closely the
stone wall over which it rushed. The momentum of the water was so great
that it carried it clear of the ledge a distance of several feet. It was
just as David had expected, provided----
He crawled close to the edge of the fall and then gave a shout that
Miguel heard even above the rumble that was all but deafening.
At the base of any cataract one may find either of two things: a deep
pool of whirling water or a mass of shattered rock fragments that has
broken off the ledge above and lodged against the base of the wall. The
latter is what David hoped to find and it is what he found.
A ridge of splintered rock stretched from the edge of the water into the
mist so far under the fall as they could see. If it continued,
unbroken, to the other side, it would afford a means of crossing the
stream.
David ventured gingerly onto the jagged pathway. The stones were cold
and wet and he had to crawl on hands and knees as there was not headroom
to stand. So soon as he was well under way Miguel followed.
It was a terrifying experience, justified only by a desperate situation.
The sheet of clear water, streaked with green, shot over the crouching
men with a thunderous roar, intensified by the cavity in which they
found themselves. A cold mist saturated their ragged clothing and
chilled them through; also, the vapor soon shut off their view in the
direction from which they had come, enveloping them in a clammy fog that
shut out the daylight. Swallows left their nests that had been plastered
against the face of the wall and dashed away in the gloom with
frightened twitters. Below, the water raged and boiled and tongues
crested with foam leaped angrily toward the men as if trying to drag
them into the cauldron below.
Once David faltered; it seemed he could go no farther. But there was
Miguel in back of him. He could not retreat and in so doing display a
lack of courage before his companion. Hope for them lay in one direction
only and that was straight ahead, even if at the same time it seemed to
promise certain disaster.
After what seemed like ages the gray twilight in front of them
brightened and a strong wind fanned the face of the foremost man. The
end of the perilous journey was in sight. And soon they had emerged
from under the river and stood on the rocks that flanked the side,
drenched, cold and shivering.
“Thank heaven, we got through that all right,” David said between
chattering teeth. “Do you think the Indians will follow?”
“They would if they knew where we went. We have to keep out of sight,”
Miguel replied. “But they wouldn’t come under the fall; they would go
downstream and cross.”
The two were compelled to remain in their present position until
darkness came, screened from view of those on the other side by the
clouds of mist that rose from the fall. They had an occasional glimpse,
however, of the high bluff across the stream; it was dotted with the
nude, brown forms of the savages, boldly outlined against the deep green
vegetation.
They selected a route that appeared climbable and when darkness had
fallen, clambered to the top. From this position directly across the
gorge they saw waving, flickering lights like huge fireflies weaving in
and out among the trees far up and down the river; the Indians had
lighted torches. They were mystified by the disappearance of the white
men. But the search was still on and there was not the slightest
indication that they had any intention of abandoning it.