CHAPTER XII.LOST IN A FOREST

CHAPTER XII.LOST IN A FOREST

TIBBS was blown many miles by the gale which had wrecked the four-posted Bed. At last he found himself passing over the silver sands of a strange coast, and fell at the edge of a forest which grew almost down to the water.

As soon as he recovered his breath, he picked himself up, in no way hurt, and very excited to find himself in a strange country. He stood up, brushed the sand from his clothes, and looked round him. As he did so, he spied a black speck upon the sand, just beyond the reach of the angry breakers.

Running towards this, he found, as he drew near, that it was a large carved post tossed up by the sea; and then, to his amazement and joy, he caught sight of the golden head of Kiddiwee beside it.

The two brothers fell into each other’s arms, and Kiddiwee wept with joy, and even Tibbs had tears in his eyes.

“Well, this IS an adventure!” he said.

“’Es, it is!” replied the little chap. “But I do wish Cece was here!”

“Perhaps she is,” said Tibbs, with more cheerfulness than he felt. The thought of Coppertop filled him with fear as to what had become of her.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” he continued, “if she hasn’t been blown here, too. Perhaps she is looking for us in the forest. Come on, we’ll hunt for her. She may be lost!”

And so saying, the two boys flew into the dense forest.

They could see very little at first, because it seemed so dim, after the bright sunlight outside, but soon they made out great tree-trunks reaching up out of sight and lost in the thick foliage. Strange creepers twined through the branches of the trees, like never-ending serpents; masses of bright scarlet flowers showed here and there, and clusters of orchids shone from the green of the undergrowth.

To the eyes of the two adventurous boys, the forest seemed peopled with strange shapes; great arms shot up and twined round the shoulders of the trees; weird plant faces grinned up from the deep shadows, and all the trees and plants and creepers appeared to be struggling with each other to reach the air and sunshine above.

The hot, moist air was rank with the smell of decaying leaves, and Tibbs and Kiddiwee gasped for breath.

As they passed what seemed to be the limb of a tree, it suddenly coiled up and hissed in their faces, and they were terrified to find that it was a huge boa-constrictor.

This so frightened them, that they flew on rapidly, without noticing where they were going, till Kiddiwee said—

“I wonder where we are? ’Cause I ’spect we’re lost! I do.”

Tibbs turned pale, but he said bravely—

“We’ll find a way out, somehow. But it is a bit risky. And I can’t see a sign of Celia.”

While he paused to decide which way to fly, a flock of parrots flew past, screeching at the intruders. And they heard the roar of a lion from the undergrowth, awakened from his morning slumber by the parrots, and in a very angry mood.

“I think we’d better move on,” whispered Tibbs.

“’Es. They don’t seem very pleased we’ve come, do they?”

“If we can find some of the Monkey People,” said Tibbs, after they had flown some distance further, “they’d be able to tell us which way to go.”

“It’ll be lovely to see Monkey People,” said Kiddiwee.

“It’ll be more lovely to get out of this beastly hot-house,” answered his brother. “We must reach Celia, and help her to find the West Wind, and it will be gone if we don’t hurry.”

“It’s miserable without Cece!” pouted Kiddiwee, with tears in his eyes.

“Hum!” said Tibbs gruffly. “I can’t see a monkey anywhere!”

Scarcely had he said this, when Bang! Crash! Down came a cocoanut, just missing his head by half an inch!

The Monkey People had found them, and were sending a greeting.

“Hurrah! We’ve found them!” cried Tibbs, as he dodged another nut. “It’s a jolly good thing they can’t throw straight.”

The Monkeys were very shy at first, and kept well out of reach, thronging the branches above the boys’ heads, peering at them with bright, inquisitive eyes. Then seeing that the intruders were only small man-cubs, and not dangerous, they came nearer.

“Greeting!” cried a grizzled old Monkey, who was evidently the head of the tribe. “O cubs-with-the-butterfly-wings! Welcome! In the name of the Garra-garra-pom-nutta-garra Tribe, I greet you!”

So said the aged Monkey, in a solemn manner.

Tibbs wanted to laugh as the animal mentioned the name of his tribe. “I wonder if I’ve got to call him names too?” he asked his brother, anxiously.

“’Spect so,” Kiddiwee replied, vaguely.

“Oh—er. O He-of-the-long-curly-tail!” Tibbs began, hoping the Monkey would not be offended. “I’m—I’m very well, thank you! How are you, old chap?” he concluded nervously, and feeling very foolish.

“O cubs-with-the-butterfly-wings! What want you?” asked the old Monkey, without a smile.

“Well, we’re lost. And we want you to help us out!” replied Tibbs.

The Chief of the Monkey Tribe.

“I and the Garra-garra-pom-nutta-garra Tribe are at the service of the Man-cubs!” said the Monkey kindly. “Come with me, O little-lost-ones!”

Wondering what would happen next, Tibbs and Kiddiwee followed him, with the whole tribe chattering behind them.

Before long they arrived at the edge of the forest, and the old Monkey said—

“Fly over the plains—

Keeping the sunshineUpon the right shoulder,

Keeping the sunshineUpon the right shoulder,

Keeping the sunshine

Upon the right shoulder,

until you reach a mighty river, and follow that till you come to the West Wind’s bower—and there you will find what you are seeking!”

“Does he mean Cece or the December day?” whispered Kiddiwee.

“Both, I expect,” cried Tibbs, overjoyed.

“But beware! O cubs-with-the-butterfly-wings,” continued the kindly Monkey, “beware of the arrows of the Bushmen!”

And before they could thank him, he was gone, with his chattering tribe, and they were alone once more.

Far across the plains they flew,

Keeping the sunshineUpon the right shoulder,

Keeping the sunshineUpon the right shoulder,

Keeping the sunshine

Upon the right shoulder,

as they had been told to do.

Before long they passed over a circle of huts, round which were standing a number of fierce, black people—the ugliest they had ever seen.

“Bushmen!” warned Tibbs.

They were naked, and carried bows and arrows. In the centre a large group of excited black men were lighting a fire, and over this fire was a cauldron, and in this cauldron they beheld, to their amazement, a man! A white man!

“By jingo!” exclaimed Tibbs, “they’re cooking him for dinner! We must rescue the poor beggar before he is too well done!”

And braving the arrows of the Bushmen—poisoned with the n’gwa juice—they flew down to the poor half-crazed man in the cauldron.

At the sight of the winged boys, the blacks fled in terror, their woolly hair uncurling, and their eyes starting from their eye-sockets.

“Um gullaber n’ging boo!” they yelled, which means “The Evil Ones have come!” Then rushing madly away, they left their dinner to cook itself.

Tibbs and Kiddiwee were delighted at the success of their surprise visit, and ran to the cauldron to help the poor man out, but when they beheld his face they drew back with a cry.

“It’s the Clerk of the Weather!” gasped Tibbs.

“So it is!” sneered the spiteful Clerk. “Have you found your precious December day yet?”

“No,” growled Tibbs, still too amazed to know what to do.

“And I don’t think you will!” yelled the Clerk of the Weather. Then, leaning suddenly forward, he grasped hold of the two boys and pulled them into the cauldron, jumping out himself as he didso; then, flying up into the coil of smoke from the fire, disappeared.

“It was just a beastly trick!” cried Tibbs, scrambling as best he could from the hot cauldron, and helping Kiddiwee out after him. “I’d like to punch that fellow into fits!”

But he had no time to think of revenge, for the Bushmen grew bold at seeing the winged boys in the cauldron, and now ran towards them threateningly.

The boys turned to fly, but their wings had been scorched by the heat and would hardly carry them.

So they took to their heels and ran, pursued at a safe distance by the cowardly Bushmen, who fired flights of poisoned arrows at them.

Two of these arrows wounded Tibbs.

“Kiddi, I’m—I’m hit!” he groaned. “We must reach a river, somehow, and wash out the poison.”

Kiddiwee helped him along as best he could. And after travelling many weary miles, they came at last to a mighty river.

The river was red with the mud washed into it by numerous streams, and large trees floated past, torn from the river banks, for it was in flood.

But the two boys were so hot and weary, that, heedless of danger, they plunged in, and were carried rapidly away on the stream.


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