From where I stood I could see the peak of the volcanic mountain, less than half an hour’s journey away. Instantly I made up my mind to visit this eminence and get my bearings. I might be able to see the ocean itself; if I could, then the sooner I made a bee-line for the coast the better for me.
There was considerable excitement among the “women” when I started away. They had doubtless been instructed to keep me there in safety till the return of the males. Fatty made an eloquent verbal protest, singularly plain to comprehend, although the words were the merest gibberish, but seeing that I intended to be master of my actions, he followed anxiously at my heels.
Fortunately there was open country between the camp and the volcanic pile. Nevertheless the way was not all of grass and flowers, for we were obliged to fight our way through narrow belts of trees and vines and to scale the sides of several chasms, all but one of which had been formed, apparently, by earthquakes of the greatest violence. In the one exception, which was the bed of an ancient river, I saw much evidence of mineral deposits, chiefly iron. Strewn along here, in the sand, were bright, crystalline formations which I recognised presently as being pyrites of iron. Afterward I thought of these, having remembered that with this stuff and flint, a spark of fire may be procured quite readily. None of the mineral features held my attention above a moment, however, the peak being the objective point of my march.
It is difficult for me to express the feverish anxiety I felt to mount the summit of that hill. It seemed as if everything depended on what I should see from the elevation. Half way up the slope, which was not at all steep, my weight broke away the top of a ledge of crumbling stuff, which proved to be sulphur of great purity. I had never seen a deposit of natural sulphur before, although I had read of mines of the mineral on volcanoes of Mexico, notably Popocatapetl. I merely placed a bit in the pocket of my shirt and went on. Further up, my attention was attracted by innumerable fragments of glass-like substance, with dark, smoky lines woven through, in the form of a rude feather. Such stuff had often come to my notice on the mountains of Nevada, where, as boys, we called it flint, erroneously, I was afterward informed. A few pieces of this I likewise placed in my pocket, but my main desire was to hurry upward.
We reached the summit, from which all traces of the crater had disappeared, through lapse of time since the last eruption, and there my heart sank within me. There was no sight nor sign of the sea on all the wide horizon. Far and away below me lay the dark, undulating cloth-of-green, jungle after jungle and range after range of densely wooded hills. In one direction, about forty miles away, were mountains of greater height than the one I was on. These tempted me to hurry onward toward their peaks, but I knew how vain was such a desire. To the eastward I caught a glimpse of a shimmering lake, hedged about with forest which I knew to be practically impenetrable.
All this panorama was marvellously beautiful, but for me beauty was mockery. I stood as good a chance to fly over the hills and trees to the sea as I did of reaching the coast by tramping across the country. I realized that without a guide and a force of resolute, hard-working men, loyal, and afraid of nothing, escape was a dream—a hope as fatal as a will-o’-the-wisp.
Nevertheless I determined that I would regain the world I had left in such an amazing manner. Wild dreams of enslaving the tribe of Missing Links, whom I should make my warriors, and who would then escort me to the coast, danced through my brain. Prodigious schemes for accomplishing some superhuman feat—which was wholly vague and constructed of air—made me twitch with nervous energy. It seemed as if I ought to be able to grasp something big—to force the marvellous to come to my aid. Then the reaction of despair succeeded; all my intangible ideas mocked me with their silliness. I felt inconceivably helpless. The enormity of the tropical hedge by which I was completely surrounded—a hedge alive with venomous snakes, doubtless with tigers, with droves of savage beasts, and with perhaps more savage men,—this arose in my brain as a picture which made me ill with dread.
“Great Scott!” I finally said aloud, to myself, “are you such a miserable coward, then? By gracious—no! There must be some way—there has to be a way! Hang it, at the worst a man can merely die!”
This speech, which startled Fatty not a little, gave me a new sort of courage. I began to think of things I must do to live, and of plans I must formulate to explore the country. I nearly forgot that my lot had been cast with the singular man-gorillas, but this was presently thrust upon my notice by Fatty, who made a noise very like to whining, to indicate his uneasiness and desire to return to the camp. The sun was nearly set. I fancied I saw something move, in a tangle far below, but concluded this something was merely a shadow.
“All right, Fatty,” said I, and we started down the hill.
Doubtless I grew absorbed in thinking, as we made our way to the base of the hill, for I was startled by a singular cry from the Link.
What I saw confused me for a moment. Three Links, taller than any except the chief of the tribe I had joined, were darting toward us with the wildest of gestures,—three Links as black as tar. Inasmuch as Fatty was nearly as dark as they, and considering the treatment I had already received, I felt no alarm and failed to comprehend what the situation meant.
Like a leopard for quickness, Fatty darted away, uttering sounds of fright. Instantly one of the Links approaching started on his trail in hot pursuit, a club in his hand which was glinting with colour in the rays of the setting sun. I was surprised and somewhat amused as I saw the clever Fatty elude the larger creature and gain the trees. Once in the cover he swung himself upward and out of sight with all the agility of a monkey.
Suddenly the two I had failed to watch were upon me. I was thrown down, pinioned to the ground a second and then dragged up, hastily. Then the pair began to hustle me off with astonishing force and with method in their frenzy, for they attempted to get me away as nearly unharmed as possible.
“Here!” I cried in a moment, endeavouring to check my progress, “let go of me—you devil!”
I had hardly noted their faces, but now, as I struggled, I saw that the two were tremendously like a pair of burly Negroes. That they were Links, as much as the others were, that indeed they belonged to the very same species and genus, there could be no doubt, but they were as widely differentiated from “my” Links as a black ant is from one that is red.
I jerked myself loose from the grip of one, by losing a part of my shirt, and struck him a blow on the point of his jaw that laid him flat on his back, stunned and helpless. I was annoyed by the liberties they were taking, more than angered or rendered desperate. I therefore kicked the other in the stomach and beheld him double like a hinge. A chorus of cries arose at this and I looked about to discover ten or a dozen more of the fellows, all black, swarming up the slope to assist their friends.
At that moment the third one, who had ceased pursuing Fatty and returned, launched himself upon me from the rear and bore me down. Fight as I would, he was the equal in strength of three of my build and easily kept me on the ground till four of the others, quickly followed by their companions, rushed to the scene and secured my arms and legs.
There was no resentment, as far as I could determine, for the blows I had given the two. The pair, in fact, soon regained their senses and breath, respectively, and joined their kind, in a dazed and half-hearted manner. I was aware that I was being considerately handled, though roughly, to be sure, and was quite unable to think of a reason, until the fellows began again to convey me away. I realised then that they were actually abducting me and proceeding straight away from the camp I had left. Had I been a thing of rare value and highly prized by the creatures, they could not have acted with more care to avoid inflicting an injury on my body, nor with more resolution in their obvious plan to carry me away to their own retreat.
In the midst of the Babel of tongues and confusion of getting me across a chasm, to which we came with surprising promptness, a cry resounded through the cleft, and instantly a force of the red Links leaped down on top of the Blacks and commenced a furious attack. I was dropped as if I had been a cumbersome rock, but landing on my feet and clearing myself of the scrambling fellows, who shot forward to meet the onslaught of the Reds, I whipped out my knife, prepared to defend myself at any cost and to fight for my friends, if I mingled at all in the fray.
The battle with the huge ourangs had been hot enough, but this present combat exceeded all bounds, in the rage of the creatures pitted against each other. I could see at once that Reds and Blacks were old-time foes, as sure to fight on contact as are the different coloured ants. They smote at one another with the wildest ferocity. Club crashed on stone, and rock thudded fearfully on skull and ribs, till blood splashed widely about the place and heads were pulp.
It had all occurred with surprising abruptness. The contending bands were inextricably mixed; they surged together and swayed from wall to wall of the chasm, yelling defiance, snarling in wrath, groaning with agony. The crunch of bones and the thuds of those terrible clubs against naked flesh were awful to hear, yet the fight was such a whirlwind of action that no one thing could hold the attention a second, where deaths and mighty actions, and the crude but deadly club-play made a picture of such close-knit battle.
One second I noted the great chief of the Reds mow down two of the Blacks at a single swing of his blood-painted, light-flashing club of crystal; the next I noted how like the writhing of a snake was the death contraction of one of my friendly Links. Then the flash of a club swinging quickly to its living cushion of ribs and flesh made a brilliant streak against the background of dusky forms. I saw that the head of this weapon was a massive nugget of gold. In that second I also detected a movement from the corner of my eye where a black creature, wounded and desperate, was rising up, club in hand, to strike me down. It flashed upon me instantly that the Blacks, if they could not possess me themselves, would rather I were dead than allied with their enemies.
I was standing with my back to the wall, willing to see fair play, but too wise to become entangled in that medley of physical giants. The treachery now revealed made me angry in a second. The smell of fight in my nostrils had been working on my animal nature; a pin-prick would have been sufficient to arouse all my human frenzy for slaying. I turned about, burning with wrath, and had no more than struck down the wounded monster than three others leaped to perform the office in which he had failed. A reeking club was swinging in toward my head like a shot from a cannon. I dived below its line of motion and drove home my knife with all the lust of vengeance. My falling antagonist tripped and overtoppled the second, destroyed the blow he was about to aim and made him an easy mark for the dripping rock-crystal that crushed his shoulder and part of his neck to a boneless mass. The third met another of my friends and beat him down, only to be killed himself a second later.
Shrieks of agony had rent the air and screams of rage and yells of triumph made discord as a number of the black Links now fled abruptly down the chasm to escape. And the fellow with the nugget club turned to hurl his defiance and to shake his reddened fist at me, as I stood on a rock in a circle of my friends. The cause of the Reds I had made my cause; I had slain a Black. The feud between these warring tribes included myself. I had created deadly enemies in the land of Missing Links.
The darkness had begun to descend before we reached the camp, plainly causing anxiety to the Links, who were hindered on the march by the burden of several dead members of the tribe. Various sounds issued from the jungle, where brutes that eat flesh in the night were beginning to prowl. Doubtless no few of these smelled the blood that laded the wind which was sweeping down through the chasm.
I thought of all this and meditated much also on my peculiar situation. Why these two opposing bands of Missing Links should so desire myself as a prize as to fight with such fatal results, was a puzzle too deep for solution, considering that I had been treated by both parties in a manner far from being inimical to my safety. Were they cannibals, I asked myself, did they desire me for a dinner? Manifestly such was not the case, inasmuch as no man-eating creatures should be expected to be so moderate as to permit me to live in freedom as long as I had lived already in their settlement. No, their purpose involved something more permanent.
There was no end to the chatter as we hastened “home.” Though I failed to understand this, yet the gestures were easy to interpret. Reason also made it plain that Fatty, when he fled from my side and escaped the Blacks, had darted toward the camp to give the alarm, meeting on the way the Links who had come to the rescue, they having started beforehand on information furnished by the females, who had watched us start toward the peak.
I recapitulated the results of my exploration. I was hopelessly lost, as far as any human beings were concerned. I was in the hands of friendly creatures, more primitive than the lowest mortal. My only chance of escape lay in cultivating the friendly feelings and in endeavouring to understand my companions, with a view to inducing a force, later on, to accompany myself on a march across the country to the sea. Incidentally I had much to do to keep myself partially civilised. I must fashion tools, in the use of which the Links must be instructed. We were surrounded by dangerous animals, and we had a powerful enemy, the force of whose numbers might be greater than our own. This would mean that I must make our tribe superior, and arm them with a better class of weapons. Fortunately the country promised to be one of great resources. Yet the only tool I had with which to start was my knife.
I thought of the endless array of implements of war and peace to be had in the poorest modern community. Such meditation being idle, I reflected how glad I would be to hammer out my own requisites from the crude iron, but this was equally vain. In short my thoughts came tumbling down the age of iron and the age of bronze, as if I had fallen back through time and history, to land at the very age of stone itself. Here I must work with stone for hammers, axes, drills and even for an anvil, supposing I had my white-hot metal ready to forge into shape, for there was nothing else to be had.
All this made me excited, eager to be at work. I was forgetful of all that it meant, as my brain pictured stage after stage of this new development, but when a cool night wind blew across my half-clothed body, I was aroused from my reverie and confronted by a pitiless array of facts. I then foresaw personal suffering, mayhap a miserable death, and toil and disappointment, before I could wrest even something small from the fist of Nature, while I should have about me a tribe of semi-animal beings, fighting constantly for a bare existence. My hope and fate were rapidly being entangled with the lives and fates of these extraordinary creatures.
Before we reached the camp, the glow of fires shone brightly through the trees. The Links had learned the use of a lively blaze in keeping off the beasts of prey. I wondered how they had first started their fire, admitting that I should doubtless find no end of trouble if I were obliged to kindle one myself, without a match.
We were met by a large and enthusiastic band of the males, with Fatty in their midst. His capers, at seeing me whole and hearty, were enough to shake an ordinary individual to pieces. He made me ponder on another peculiar thing. How did it happen that he, being black, was not only living among the Reds, but was also at feud with the fellows of his colour? I made up my mind that he was either a freak, like the albino, born in the tribe, or else that he had been captured when a baby, and reared away from his kind. It was certain the black Links recognised a foe in the fellow, whatever his pedigree and blood.
Having conceived an idea, I was glancing about at the trees revealed by the glow of the fires, when I discovered a growth of stuff wherein there was a large portion dead and dry. Going to this, amid evident protest and questionings on the part of many Links, I took out my knife and cut away some likely looking branches. The wood I found to be exceedingly tough. It was hard work to get what I wanted. On bending it over, in an effort to break it off, where my cut had been made, I found it to be exceptionally elastic and stubborn, although I could see it had been dead and seasoned for many months. Getting out a long straight shaft, half as large as my wrist, and several other straight pieces a trifle larger than a pencil, I brought it all to the circle about the fire.
The Links, who were much excited over recent events, watched my every movement with the gravest concern. I faced them and attempted to convey, by signs and pantomime that I intended to make a bow and several arrows with which I could kill six of the number in the briefest time. They understood enough to be highly amused and delighted. There were an incredible number of things they did and said of which the meaning was clear, and with comparative ease I made Fatty understand that I wished him to boil me a dinner in the way he had seen me do already.
Fatty, I believe, was one of the most intelligent of all the Links. He made blunders enough in doing what I wished, while I tried to keep at work on my bow, yet he was insanely anxious to do me any favour and crazy with delight at being considered worthy of employment. Dinner cooking went forward again in the same desultory manner I had noted before, but a large majority of the Links sat or stood about me in the semidarkness, seeming more than ever like apes as they glanced about with their nervous, round eyes, chattered their monkey-like language, and released the muscles of their long, uncanny arms. The glow that was tossed from the fire, making silhouettes of many an astounding red statue, painted a weird picture that night beneath the trees.
As I looked in their faces, many of them drawn with the first vague efforts of thinking, I beheld strange, fleeting promise of things to be, dim lights, as it were, of ambitions—desire to grasp a something just beyond their mental capacity. Many seemed awed by the simple sight of that knife, cutting away the stubborn wood in thin, smooth shavings, as it flashed in the light.
I put my finger on the blade. “Knife,” I said, “knife.”
A few, including Fatty, attempted to repeat the word. A chorus of peculiar laughter followed and the spell of awe was gone. As I worked, then, I pointed to various things and gave the name in English. There was not even one of the Links who failed to comprehend that I was making an effort to establish a means of communication between us, but a very few only tried my easy lessons. Fatty, however, was quite willing to “make a fool of himself,” for he essayed everything, manfully. But better than this, the fellow attempted to reciprocate the favour. Thus when I had given a name to the blazing pieces of wood he waited a moment and then pointing to it earnestly said, distinctly:
“Ouch.”
Then he pantomimed burning his finger, and jerked it back, saying “Ouch” again. He made it plain that the fire would hurt if touched, that a Link would cry “ouch” at the smart, and that therefore a fire was named for this cry. When I proved that this much Link language was mine beyond a doubt, the ecstasy of my fat friend was most extravagant. Gratified with his effort, he soon made me acquainted with the names of a number of articles. These names were invariably chosen in a manner analogous to the one by which they had arrived at “ouch” for fire. For instance, a gurgle, impossible to set down in letters, was the name for water; a sound like a thud meant a club; an audible breath through the lips, (wind), signified a tree. Manifestly such “words” as these defy all efforts at spelling. I found them difficult to imitate, for the throat was largely employed to make the noises and my tongue seemed to be very much in the way. I tried my best, as I worked out my first crude bow, and when I had finished my dinner I felt that no little progress had been made toward a better understanding all around.
Inasmuch as there was more need for haste than there was for finish on my weapon, I made short work of tapering off the ends of my bow and cutting the notches. I then prepared several arrows, somewhat clumsy, but still fairly straight, after which I feathered them all, roughly, and attempted to break some of the glass-like “flints,” I had found that day, into shapes that would pass for arrow-heads. This was a most unsuccessful business. An accident formed the only piece which by any stretch of the imagination could be conceived as what I desired. This I bound at the tip of a shaft, with cord similar to that which the Links employed on their clubs, but it was hopelessly awkward. Being then provided with more of their string, I bent my bow and had the satisfaction of seeing that it was fairly symmetrical in form and amazingly stout. Indeed, it broke the string, and I feared it had split at the sudden release, but this was not the case. In excitement and admiration, the Links now furnished me with a stouter cord, a cleverly twisted deer-gut, or tendon, which was nearly perfection for the purpose.
Fitting my pointed arrow on the string and bidding the Links stand aside, I drew it as far as I could and let it drive at the nearest tree. The twang that followed gave me a thrill of delight, as always it had done in the days of my youth, and I felt a gush of pride in my veins when the shaft stood quivering in the bark, its head so deeply buried that the greatest effort to drag it out merely broke it short off in the hands of the giant chief.
The Links knew not whether to be alarmed or delighted. Again I placed a shaft on the string. This time I signed for silence and turned the arrow straight up toward the star-dappled sky, to give my friends a rough idea of the height to which the wooden messenger would climb. In the absolute silence I drew even further than before. With a swish the arrow sprang from the humming string and disappeared like a bullet as it cleaved the upper darkness, near the trees.
I threw up my hand for continued silence. In eager expectation we waited. Beat, beat, beat, went my heart as the seconds were multiplied, the long stillness proclaiming the distance to which the arrow had sped. Longer became the time; I was thrilled with pleasure and surprise myself; it seemed as if the shaft never would return. How still was the night for that minute; not a breath was stirring.
Suddenly there was a swish—a plunk! as the leaf of a palm was punctured, and then a quick, incisive plith! as the shaft was driven forcibly home in the earth. It had come down about ten good strides away!
We hastened in a body to find it. There it was, standing straight as a line, stabbed six inches deep in the sod and roots of grasses, and—marvel of accidental things!—impaled upon it, half way up its length, was a bat, transfixed in action, still holding in its mouth an unswallowed moth.
Circumstance had completely eclipsed my humble skill, for this miracle of chance made me at once a species of god and devil, in the eyes of my wonder-smitten companions.
In the morning I witnessed a primitive ceremony, the burial of the dead, killed in our latest battle.
The ones who had been despatched by the savage ourang-outangs had been buried the day before, while I lay asleep beneath the trees.
The males proceeded, this morning, to a rocky gulch, not far from the camp, where the soil was largely of gravel and bits of stuff which I thought indicated a chalk formation below. Here they began to dig as if their lives depended on their speed, all of them scratching out the dirt with powerful, claw-like hands and sending it flying behind them, between their legs. In fact, they dug like so many dogs.
It was surprising how soon they had excavated a great hole, but they kept at it, hard and fast, taking turns, as if they had learned that depth was the only virtue of any vault for the dead. Chunks of rock flew out, with lesser debris, and some of the pebbles being smooth and round, I gathered half a dozen as large as a mango and pushed off the dampish soil adhering about them. This revealed their colour, which was chalkish white. I could not rely upon my limited knowledge of geological formations, yet I thought the pebbles looked very like chalcedony.
On a large rock, with another for a hammer, I struck one of my pebbles, when it split most neatly in twain. The inside had a moist appearance the like of which I had never noted before, but it was decidedly like flint, and I was therefore confirmed in my classification. Well satisfied with myself, I struck a half again, when I succeeded in splitting off a thin, flat section. Astonished at the manner in which this substance broke, I selected a neater “hammer” from among the rocks and began to knock off chips from my fragment, and almost before I could believe it myself, I had a crude arrow-head of which I felt I need not be ashamed. I was thoroughly amazed. Had I discovered a stone which lent itself peculiarly to chipping, or had I stumbled upon some flint in a natural condition for being worked? I remembered to have heard of rock which certain savages—notably those of Alaska—take from the earth while moist, in which condition they carve it with ease, and which subsequently grows as hard as glass. I wondered if this were not a similar material. Also I reasoned that savages must always have had some flint which was capable of being worked with the poorest of tools and by persons of no intellectual attainments, for all had made arrow-heads from the year of one.
In my zeal, I split the original pebble into six thin slabs, nearly all of them as regular as if I had cut them with a knife. These I wrought at with feverish eagerness. Too much haste soon ruined one for any purpose, but out of the others I got several heads, which should have been better, but which made me ready to dance with joy, for they suggested such wonderful possibilities, when care and patience and better tools should be employed.
I had quite forgotten the burial, but looked up from my hammer-hunting in time to see the stiffened bodies of the Links, who had given their lives in the fray, go rolling down to the bottom of the grave where they lay, looking terribly human. Then without even a moment’s pause, for regret or touch of reverent feeling, the Links above turned their backs upon the bodies and began to scratch the dirt once more into place. A pang of sympathy welled up in my breast, for the brave fellows so lightly considered. I breathed a little hope that their rest might be that of peace.
Before the hole was full I had gathered together a lot of the pebbles. Later we all piled rocks on the grave till no animal of the jungle could have dug out the bodies in a week. I signified then that I wished my geological collection carried to camp, and this was accordingly done.
On arriving at the cave, I selected a rock for an anvil and others for tools, for a fit of work was on me. Fruits gave me breakfast enough. I chipped away rapidly, with never-ending astonishment at the rapid results achieved. It was easy even to indicate to Fatty and to one or two others what they could do to promote the manufacture of needed things. They were able to cleave the pebbles with reasonable accuracy and skill. I then made them understand that I wished the smaller pebbles split into thin slices and the larger ones into sections that were thicker.
I make no pretence that my arrow-heads were as fine as many a primitive man has fashioned in ages past, but at least they were sharp and provided with shanks for binding them to arrows and, what is more to the purpose, they accumulated fast. Of the longer pieces of flint I formed a number of spear-heads and knives. Some of these latter would doubtless have been as well named had I called them saws. With some pieces I made what I mentally dubbed experimental hatchets. All these things, as fast as made, were placed in the large sea-shell, which answered well as a receptacle.
Without interrupting my labours I managed to convey to the marvelling Links that I needed more of the wood for bows, arrows and handles. How they would manage to cut this material was more than I knew, yet I reasoned that inasmuch as they must have cut the handles of their clubs, they could do the work by some means or other. Their method surprised me. They built a fire near the place where I had cut the branch for the bow, and getting a peculiar hard wood into a glowing state, pressed the incandescent surface against the limbs desired, and then by blowing, burned them off, not rapidly, but with great neatness. The fiery brand passed through the wood much as a red-hot iron might in the hands of a smith.
We were an enthusiastic lot that morning, I directing and working at my flints, some preparing cords, many scraping handles with bits of the glass-like material I had found, and with which they were already familiar, while others bound my hatchets to hafts, rudely finished, and knife blades to smaller odds and ends of wood. It was remarkable how readily they grasped the meaning of various things. Their exclamations of surprise and acknowledgment of the virtue of our growing “arsenal” frequently suggested to me a something as if the fellows were surprised at the real simplicity of all and were wondering why they had never done the like before.
After three or four hours the heat of the sun became so great, on my unprotected head, that I abandoned the pebbles long enough to construct a makeshift for a hat. For this I employed some palm leaves, excellently suited to the purpose. The chief eyed all our business with something of a look of sullen disdain. Perhaps it was jealousy beginning to work. He held to his precious club of rock-crystal—which certainly gleamed with great beauty in the rays of sunlight piercing through the leaves—as if it were the all in all that a warrior should require. At his side was a fawning fellow whom I had marked before as lazy, small-headed and much too fond of grinning, in a manner which conveyed no idea of mirth nor good-nature, but which, on the contrary, threw his teeth into disgusting prominence.
At about noon, when I was cramped and tired, from my close application to the work, I was glad to see a small detachment of our number returning from an excursion in quest of meat. It was not until a subsequent time that I learned how they drove their game into pits, to replenish the larder, but this day I inaugurated a new system of cooking. It was too great a waste of time for each to cook for himself, or herself, and the women being employed at nothing more arduous than gathering fruits and suckling babes, I saw no reason why they should not become the chefs for the tribe.
Accordingly I soon had two uprights driven in the ground and a lot of meat spitted on the green branch of a sapling. With glowing embers from two fires, collected between my uprights, and the wooden spit resting upon them, I showed a female how to keep the roast turning. Again the Links approved of the plan, for they were quick to see that one person working in this manner, could cook for all as readily as for one. They were restless to be at the meat as soon as the first bit of brown appeared, but I kept them off, made them replenish the embers from fires burned down, and then I cut off the places where the meat was done with my knife, for general distribution.
Again at this meal I was mad for salt. What did these fellows do for this requisite seasoning? I asked myself, for I had always understood that even savages grow unhealthy, if they lack this mineral, and become willing to barter off their souls for a small pinch. There was no explanation of the riddle that day.
We set to work again in the afternoon, getting out a lot of material to be finished later. The following morning I won the regard of all—unless I except the fawning creature mentioned before—by giving lessons in archery, another bow and several arrows having been hastily completed. The Links proved themselves not only practicable, but most excellent pupils. They were magnificently muscled, to begin with, and therefore shot with force from the start, while all seemed to possess a natural knack, as if the weapon had once been theirs and then for long had been mysteriously lost.
In the midst of our “tournament” and while I was walking cautiously about, to get a shot at a brilliant bird which had flown into a near-by tree, a peculiar sound was uttered by many of the Links. The cause of their exclamation was revealed a second later, for moving through a clearing, not forty yards away, was a large black bear.
My heart leaped with excitement. I moved quickly to gain a point of vantage, raising the bow for a shot, when a dozen of the Links leaped in alarm between myself and the bear, raising their arms as if in affright and plainly imploring me not to shoot at the creature. This I thought absurd. I believed them to be a pack of cowards who feared the arrow might only serve to irritate the brute and so bring down its wrath upon us all. But in this I was mistaken. As I tried to wave them away—for the bear would be gone in a minute—they became frantic in their appeals. They indicated clearly that if I wished I might try the shaft on any one of themselves, if only I would spare the beast which had walked thus deliberately into camp.
There was nothing else for it; the creature disappeared before I could argue the question. Thereupon a score of males, foremost of whom was the chief, hurried to the place where the bear had paused a moment and there each placed his head on the ground with such a show of reverence and primitive superstition, that even I could comprehend they attached some great significance to this peculiar visit. When I reasoned how easily two or three with their terrible clubs could have despatched the animal, I concluded that they all regarded bruin’s visit as an omen of particular good fortune.
I was speculating upon this occurrence when suddenly another cry—this time of alarm—startled us all. The males came dashing back from their adoration of the bear tracks, making a shrill sound of warning and waving their arms wildly. The females and scores of others ran pell-mell for the cave. Children came swinging down from trees as if the sky were raining little Links. Mothers fled with babes in their arms. There was sudden arming of the fighters.
Somewhat amazed I stood where I was, bow still in hand. Then the reason for the visit of the bear was speedily furnished. I was clutched and hustled off with the others, while with screams of savage vengeance—which mingled with a war-note, easy to understand,—innumerable black monsters swarmed from the woods and charged upon us.
The whole fighting tribe of black Missing Links, it appeared, had surrounded the camp. They were armed and ferocious, thirsting for revenge for the defeat of two days before, and seemed equal to the task of annihilating all our force. They had frightened the bear there before them.
In a time incredibly short, the Reds were in the cave. I was dragged and pushed in among the last. Then I saw my precious new weapons, twenty feet away—arrow-heads, spear-heads, knives, hatchets, handles, bows and all. Tearing away I dashed out to these and brought the sea-shell, with its contents back to safety. Fatty darted out in my tracks, saving a number of unfinished bows, but the foremost Blacks were almost upon him. The chief himself—who thereby testified his high appreciation of the collection—leaped from the cave, to get all he could of what we had missed. I turned about in time to see him fill his arms and hands. A great black Link bounded swiftly up with brandished club, to smash his rival’s skull. My whole being thrilled, thus to behold the bravery of our great red fellow who, leaping like a panther, refused to drop anything, in such a moment of peril. Cries of warning and of terror went up from the cave. I jerked up my bow, with a pointed arrow, strung. Lustily I drew against that powerful deer-gut. There was only a foot in which to miss the chief and hit the pursuing Black. The arrow sped like a streak. It struck the murderous creature fairly at the base of the throat, crashed clean through his neck and protruded on both sides at once.
He plunged forward, striking such a blow on his face that the arrow was driven to the feathers in the hole it had made. A chorus of howls resulted. The Links immediately on the heels of their fallen companion, halted abruptly, in dread and horror, yet on came a hundred behind them, mad for blood.
A blunt arrow, shot too high, but which nevertheless struck another black Link in the forehead, smashed its way through his skull before it shattered and split into pieces. Then the crystal club caved in the chest of the only assailant who had reached the cave, for the chief had recovered his fighting position like an elastic spring, and was ready to deal a fearful death to any who should dare attempt to enter the frowning mouth of the cave. Reinforced by another fighter, the chief could almost have stayed the rush of an army, coming in singles and pairs through the open door.
This fact the attacking creatures realised quickly. Another of the arrows, which missed the mark for which it had been intended, broke the arm of a powerful Black and compelled him to drop his club. His cry was a signal for all to halt and draw back, to consider what had best be done. They had us trapped, but how should they now proceed to beat out our brains?
The last of my arrows was gone too soon, but the visible effect of these silent messengers of death was that of terror on the part of the mystified Blacks. Had we possessed a score of bows, with a quiver full of arrows for each, in the hands of skillful archers, we should have won a bloody battle and driven the foe away, hopelessly routed, but they had surprised us completely, in our unprepared condition, and the situation was decidedly theirs in point of advantage.
Behind me, in the cave, the females and young ones were being sent to the rear. There was much excited chatter and much uneasiness of movement among all the huddled creatures. What the Blacks would do was evidently a matter of great concern.
Our besiegers decided soon on aggressive measures. They gathered all the loose rocks, which were practical as missiles, and rushing forward, hurled them into the cave with tremendous violence. Not a few of our party received bruises from the first volley, but many stones missed the cave entirely and many merely struck the rock walls and so fell harmlessly down. All that came to hand were immediately gathered, so that when the second company advanced to supplement the first fusilade, they were met by a fierce return shower of rocks, which stretched two Blacks on the ground.
This business proving unprofitable was not long continued. The Blacks retired again for consultation the result of which was that more than a dozen soon lighted brands at our smouldering fires and threw these in upon us as they darted by the opening of the cavern. No serious injury came from this. Our fellows would have flung these fiery spears back again, had I not restrained the action. The branches, it occurred to me, made torches too good to sacrifice for nothing. I therefore extinguished a number and kept several lighted. These latter we passed to the rear, in order that our positions might not be revealed to the foe.
This throwing in of fire was concluded abruptly when the giant chief, watching his opportunity, sprang out, as one of the Blacks was running by, and battered in his head with the gleaming club. The rage of the assailants increased momentarily. They saw themselves baffled by a force inferior to their own, although they had us cornered.
With no little anxiety, we watched them detach a company of powerful fighters and send them off out of sight. This could not indicate retreat, I knew, for the ones who were left were too expectant. Perhaps, I thought, this was a blind to make us believe the force was now so reduced that we could charge them from the cave in safety and drive the invaders from the camp. There were, indeed, a few in our party, as I could see, who desired to attempt such a sortie, but fortunately the chief and other wise fellows over-ruled the suggestion.
While we were waiting, restless and worried, the plan of the Blacks was suddenly revealed. Amid yells of triumph and hatred, there came a thundering shower of rocks and boulders from directly above the cave, falling down across its mouth, heaping rapidly up, filling the place with a stifling dust and obliterating much of the light of day. The party detached had gone around and climbed on top of the terrace in which the cave was hollowed out. It would simply have been to court a sudden death had any of us attempted to dash from the place. Startled, undecided as to what we ought to do, we stood there paralysed, while the bewildering Niagara of sand and stone kept rumbling and crashing down. Before we realised what was occurring, the barrier had grown to a heap that was midway up across the opening of the hole.
There were strange cries, roars and howlings, from those behind us. Above the din rose the piercing screams of delight from the horde without. All of them now rushed to the spot in a body and began to heap up all the stones they could gather. Blinded, confused and frightened, my friendly Links began to jostle about, in the dread and anguish of the doomed.
In less than five minutes the last rays of light were being blotted out. The sounds of the army still building the barrier higher and thicker came dully in. The cave was sealed; we were buried alive in an unknown tomb!
Throughout the mass of Links in the cavern, the news of the unforeseen calamity spread with great rapidity. Some of the females set up a wailing; the “men” all chattered at once; baby Links caught the infection of fear and began to cry. A more demoralised collection of beings it would be hard to conceive.
The tremendous advantage gained by the Blacks was readily comprehended by all the older males. They knew, as well as I, that did they attempt to dig out, the Links in waiting on top of the heap could kill them as fast as a head appeared; they also seemed to know that their enemies would wait outside, long enough to be sure that all of us had starved to death, before they finally decamped.