Until I was sure he would move no more, nor raise a sound, I remained astride his chest. The stillness then was awful. Not a sound could I hear but that of my own laboured breathing and the trickle and drip of this creature’s blood. I admit the dread of it all made me tremble. It seemed such a ghastly end to my innocent escapade.
But having plunged so deeply into the business, for the sake of a bit of fire, I did not intend to leave the work unfinished because of this unavoidable incident. Therefore I caught up the glowing branch, which had nearly been smothered out as we rolled it in the grass, and blowing upon it to liven it up, I stole away from that gory arena.
Still breathing hard, from the effects of the duel, I reached the heap of stone, outside the cavern and hunted up my bundle of wood. I sat down on a rock to get my torches lighted. This was not an easy matter, for although my brand was a species of wood which retained fire remarkably long, I was obliged to gather many small dry twigs and bits of dead creeper, to which I added hair from the skins, before I could make a blaze. Once having accomplished this feat, however, I found that the torch-faggots burned with all the fierceness of pitch.
Acknowledging that the skeleton-man had succeeded in finding a wood which surpassed for torches anything that I had yet discovered, I threw my bag and clubs inside the cave and climbed in after, with all the light I needed.
So far, the getting of treasure had not proved to be the “pic-nic” I had previously been led to suppose was about to be enjoyed. Holding my torch above my head and carrying both the clubs beneath my other arm, I now went along in this wonder-house, waxing momentarily more and more excited by the prospect of seeing what was there.
The passage was narrow and low, it was likewise crooked, and the floor was rough and uneven. On the walls there was not the slightest indication of anything precious. I have never seen stone more dull. This made me doubt if I had come to the cauldron of gold, after all. The trend of the tunnel was downward. Presently I came to a “jump off” four feet high. The bottom of this secondary gallery sloped rapidly downward. Then I emerged from the tunnel-like hall, into a larger chamber. The first thing I saw was water, in a crevice. I jumped then like a scared cat, for a drop of the liquid fell plump on my nose from the ceiling, where steam had condensed.
A second after this I got a brilliant gleam of reflected light, from an object on the floor, a rod away. It was gold. To right and left flashed similar reflections. I hastened onward, and then halted, dizzy with amazement, for below me, in a great basin was ebon water that moved, and about it were nodules and drippings of gold, and stuffed into crevices was gold on gold. I leaped a ditch, above which the mist was rising, hot and damp. Beyond this, down in the very cauldron itself, which was inaccessible and awe-inspiring, I beheld those stalagmites of solid metal, those building nuggets and the seething abyss of water and natural acid which before I had seen from above.
The ascending steam curtained off the mouth of the cave above which I knew to be over this eerie place, but I was far too eager for what was about me, to spend my time in looking upward. It was not a place of dazzling beauty; on the contrary it was dull, dripping and misty, but here, there, in unexpected places I caught that inimitable glitter. Having seen one piece of the forming gold-hunks, it seemed as if I were qualified to see a score. The heat of the place was tremendous, the air humid and hard to breathe.
So deep was the boiling water that I could see nothing of what was below, yet I knew from seeing the shallows, golden on the bottom, that the basin was doubtless plated throughout with the beautiful metal. I was wild with enthusiasm; I wanted to knock off tons of nuggets; I began to wonder if I could take it all. Quickly clambering over jagged piles, I stepped on a boulder that stood above an apron of rock all seamed with cracks in which the gold had been stuffed till the places were full.
While I was standing there, the rumble of the mighty giant commenced to resound in the cavern. Alarmed at the thought that the water might surge up and engulf me where I stood, I started to flee to a safer retreat. My heel got caught in a crevice. The harder I tugged, the tighter it became wedged. Stooping I got my fingers in behind it and slid it forward and out. The second it cleared, my thumb struck an object full of something that felt like nails. Glancing once at the place, I was astonished to see the heel of a boot, not unlike my own.
I leaped away to safety and the marvellous geyser burst upward. The roaring noises thundered upon the air of the place with deafening reverberations; the steam rolled away in tremendous volumes. Spray and drops of the boiling liquid that splashed, fell all about, some on my hand, burning me badly. The basin was all a-surge with its seething brew; the waters gushed hungrily up, swirling about, filling the cracks and tossing in extreme agitation.
Down came the massive column of the fountain, as if the source had been cut off in an instant. A tidal wave of the boiling stuff swelled up to the brink of the cauldron, inundating the golden nodules, stalagmites and the radiating fissures.
I knew, then, as much as a man could ever know, who had not been present, how that other man had lost his life, and how it came that his skeleton was gilded. That heel told the story. He had probably caught his foot just as I had done, but he had not been able to get away. He had doubtless fallen headlong into the basin of boiling liquid, where his life must have been forfeited instantly. Then time after time the water had risen about him, until all the flesh had been boiled away from the bones, and then the process of plating with gold had commenced on the skeleton. Poor wretch. It had then been left, I thought, for one of the braver spirits among the Links to rescue all that remained and carry it forth from the dread cavern. I felt somewhat chilly to think how near I had been to the same dreadful fate.
The demonstration having ceased, the water subsided, the rocks and nuggets dripped, and the steam arose, hotter than before. My zeal for exploring the place had oozed away. It seemed to me that discretion counselled me to complete my work and depart.
“I’ll only stop for a few hundred pounds,” I told myself with a feeling of virtuous moderation. “A man should never be a pig.”
The first thing to do was to strip off my bear-skin, in which I was now perspiring like a porpoise. Then I selected a fine, large nodule of gold, from the vicinity of which I could easily escape when the geyser began to spout, and this I began to batter with one of the clubs. I had conceived an idea that I would bend these formations over and break them off with comparative ease. I was in for a large disappointment.
Not only were the gold masses bended over at the expense of great energy and perseverance, but they refused to break after quite a number of such bendings. That first one having been once so bent, refused to be knocked back in the opposite direction. Also the geyser took its turn very soon and in the end I humbly abandoned nodule number one and tackled one which was smaller.
It was at least an hour before my labours were awarded with any real success whatsoever. But at last I had a chunk of metal of something like five pounds weight. Mopping my head, puffing and losing my temper, I “picked on” the smaller pieces now with great sagacity. I pounded and pried, grunted and wrenched, waited for the geyser to have its say and then went at it again, till I lost all reckoning of time. After several failures, however, I got the knack of this mining business better, and what with smashing rocks away to facilitate the work and contenting myself with modest chunks, I got loose and heaped up something over a hundred weight of treasure, according to my estimate by guessing.
“That’s enough for any man of sense,” I finally assured myself. “I’d be ashamed to take any more.”
Lighting a new torch, from the one I had planted in a chink, I went out toward the entrance and secured my bag. To my amazement I discovered that the day had broken. I had worked for hours that sped like minutes. Somewhat concerned about any Links, who might be stirring, I hastened back, threw my hoard into the skin pouch and staggered with it to the jump-off, where I boosted it up hurriedly. On emerging from the mouth of the cave, I was obliged to rest, so weary had I become from my long-sustained labours. However, I dared not pause, at so late an hour, and therefore I shouldered my load again and started away, leaving bear-skin, torches and clubs behind. My only idea now was to reach the boat in haste.
In spite of my stubbornness, I could walk not more than fifty yards at a time with my burden, before putting it down to give myself “a blow.” It was such a dead weight, and I had used up my whole reserve of force. Breathing my great relief, to find myself out at last, within one more carry of the boat, I set the sack down in a thicket and leaned against a tree to rest my muscles. As I turned about to resume the load, a startling yell suddenly penetrated the forest.
Jump about as quickly as I could, I was not in time to avoid a furious onslaught. A hideous female Link, as black as rubber and apparently as old as the jungle, launched herself upon me and bit me on the shoulder so severely that I cried out in pain and struck her with my knife before I could stop to remember that a male should spare a female creature. The steel went deep in her side. She wrenched with her jaws where she was biting as she fell away, and injured a cord in my neck, which made me all but collapse with sudden nausea and weakness.
Before I could shake her off, after pulling out the knife, the forest echoed with the yells of countless demons rushing toward me from the direction of the cave. Undone, incapable of showing fight with my dagger, against so large and fierce a mob, I tore myself free from the clutch of the female and ran as hard as possible toward the river.
That terrible female, stabbed only through the fleshy muscles under her arm, made a dive for my feet and hauled me down. I slashed off two of her fingers with a vicious lunge, and darted away again at the top of my speed.
By this time many of the demons were hot on my trail, crying out in fearful monosyllables, tearing through the brush, and attempting to head me off. The foremost fellow threw his club and the handle of it struck me on the leg. I snatched it up, well knowing the creature would catch me before I could go another twenty strides, and leaping behind a tree I waited half a moment. He rushed to the spot, headlong and reckless. Down came his own weapon, and he fell like a dead bull. But the motion of striking nearly killed me, so fearful was the wrench where the female had bitten the sinew.
Once more I ran dizzily away, at the head of that screaming horde of Links. Club after club was hurled to fetch me down, but all went wide. I was beating them all—I knew it—I should reach the boat, for none were aware of its presence. It was hardly more than a rod away.
Stumbling and pitching, ready to fall down in my agony, I dived through a hedge of vines and was thrown headlong within reach of the prow I knew so well. Up and shoving at the boat in a twinkling, I heard the vines being ripped apart behind me. Having held on to the club till I fell here, I turned and pounced upon it and swung it back in time to crash it fairly in the pit of the black devil’s stomach, as he hurtled upon me.
Dropping it instantly, I shoved off the boat with all the strength I had, and leaped in, as three or four more of the fiends came dashing madly down to the river’s edge. This time when they threw their clubs I was struck fairly on the fleshy portion of the back and knocked on my face across the seat. Hurt by the blow, but strong in my instinct for self-preservation, I got out the oars in jig-time and drove the good old craft up the stream and away from the murderous brutes on the bank, like a madman. Rowing almost straight for the further side, I distanced all the clubs speedily. When they realised the utter futility of pursuit, the enraged creatures merely yelled their maledictions as I went.
The strength which had risen in my desperation, even against the shock to my system which had been given by the bite of the female monster, departed before I was out of the river. I trembled from head to foot; I was ill all over and nearly as limp as a string.
How serious the bite might be I had no means of ascertaining. To my hand, when I felt of the place, there seemed to be only a raw, smarting wound, on the top of a great hot swelling. I felt sure that no thews had been actually severed by the terrible teeth, for had any been, I should not have been able to row the boat nor to use my arm in any manner whatsoever. Nevertheless I knew I was wounded badly, and I all but cried with the pain it cost me to move the craft.
Until I had reached the lake, the fear of the Blacks made me work, despite my physical anguish. When I knew I was comparatively safe, I sank forward and, I confess, fainted like a girl.
It was probably as much as an hour before I recovered my senses fully. For the last fifteen minutes or so of this time I was semi-conscious, but incapable of motion, while my brain merely whirled in a vortex with that female Link, the boat and the nuggets of gold. When at last I again acquired the power of moving, I filled my hand with water from the lake repeatedly and dashed it on my face and on my bitten shoulder. But I could not row; I needed further rest.
My head was beginning to ache. My brain insisted on revolving the story of my greed for gold. Again I fought the battle of silence with the watch-dog of the tribe; again I worked like a gnome in that steaming, hot cauldron; again I staggered away with my plunder. Then I saw that female Link, who, searching in the thicket, must have found the body of the watch-dog, lying in his gore. He might have been her mate. Crazed, she followed on the trail that led from the spot, with the tribe at her heels. She reached the cauldron and then got again on the tracks I was making to the river. At that I screamed and thought I was crazy myself.
Aroused by this repeated nightmare, I struggled with the oars again. It seemed as if I could not budge the boat; this made me work like a fury. The heat of the sun grew intolerable; I could feel it baking the blood in my head; it was all on the side of the Blacks. The lake was a sheen of blinding light and heat; it mocked me and held me back. Again and again came the lurid panorama of events. I could see through everything, jungle, thicket and bag made of skin—see those pieces of gold—mine! mine!—shining like the blazing sun, hot and baking. All that gold on the ground was mine, but it mocked me and cooked my brain with its heat and steam.
I lost all reckoning; I rowed to escape the nightmare and the lake that held me back. The sun got up in mid-heaven, and still I was on that shimmering water. I knew nothing, absolutely, of what I did, except that I rowed to get away from that female Link, who seemed to bite me times without number, and always in that same burning spot. I must have fainted half a dozen times; I rowed toward home between these spells by instinct only. The distance which I could ordinarily compass in a little more than an hour, required no less than seven hours, this fateful day. When I think of the heat, the weight of the boat and my physical condition, I wonder I did not die, and drift to the shore.
As it was, I have not the slightest recollection of having reached the bank. I thought that for years and years I strove to get away from that last terrible encounter. When at length my brain was clear and I opened my eyes, in the slow, weak manner of one who has all but passed to the further side of the dark river, I saw a beautiful, worried face above my own—the face of the goddess.
“Thank God!” she whispered fervently, when she saw that I was mad no longer, and the poor girl cried as she bathed my head and bade me go to sleep.
I had nearly pegged out, and that is the truth. When I was strong enough to hear my own story, I learned of things which will never cease to fill me with wonder, and with many emotions too soft to parade. It was good old Fatty who had seen me coming; and he it was that finally carried me bodily up the hill. Then for a nurse I had never lacked for a moment. The goddess and Fatty, he her slave, she my guardian angel, had done the all that could be done, with the poor facilities at hand, for a man in such desperate straits that he raves night and day for a week. But the goddess really saved me, when all is said, for she knew the properties of certain tropical plants and with the crushed leaves of one she drew the poison from the bite, reduced the swelling and made it possible for proper healing to commence. I had done the worst possible thing, in rowing home through the heat and with such a wound, but if I had not done exactly what I did, and when I did, my doctor and nurse would never have had the opportunity of proving their skill.
They were strange days that followed—strange for me, who had never been down on my back with illness before since childhood, for the fever left me thin, weak, and feeling so helpless that I had no desire to move as much as one of my feet. My first poignant thought was about the Blacks, and the danger of their swooping down upon us again. When I knew that for a week there had been no sign of any foe, I thought they had probably undergone too great a fright on the last occasion to require any more for some considerable time.
For another week I lay like a baby, in the shelter, eating fruits and bits of meat which the goddess prepared as best she could. How I yearned to see her face, whenever she left me for a moment! Then came the time when I began to mend, and desired to have back my strength and my title of king.
When I stood up and wobbled about on my pins one day, I made a discovery which did much to hasten a return to my old condition. The crystal club, presented to me by the ex-chief, in token of my exalted station and regal attainments, had been stolen. I learned that the ex-chief had dared to carry this sceptre of power into the jungle; I learned from Fatty that the jealous Madame Albino had been the one to rob me of my trophy. She feared the goddess—who in truth was more of a queen of the tribe than I had even been a king,—but the creature had not feared a man who was crazy and likely to die.
So wroth did I wax over this outrage to my dignity that I became unmanageable at once. Thin as a rail, but able to stagger about, next day, I dug up one of my lesser bombs from the magazine, and waving it wildly above my head, marched up to the guilty ex-chief, while he had the club underneath him, as he sat on the ground, and scared him half to death. He knew the bomb,—no trouble about that. I therefore took the crystal club away from him, rudely, and slapped his face. He fell down instantly and began to adore my tracks in the proper spirit of humiliation, followed without delay by all the tribe. Madame Albino fled to the woods, though what manner of personal violence the lady expected I have never been able to guess. This fine, large bluff, of a man as white as paper and thin as a hair-pin, had a most salutary effect. It made all the fellows love me more than before, even the chief, for all were much like dogs in disposition, and a dog is the better for it when he learns that man is the master. I was more of a monarch every day.
Yet I was slow in regaining my old weight, for the heat was increasing steadily, and my system had been much depressed by the fever. In consequence of this, I did more at playing than at work. With my fellows I practiced archery in the cooler parts of the days, coaxing back the strength to my arms, body and legs, but I made my excursions to the jungle brief.
During this period of convalescence, the goddess reassumed the company of her snake. But the dear girl followed me about with her gaze, which I frequently felt drawing my own. When I would glance toward her, I always saw her glorious eyes filled with longing and sympathy and a tenderness which went straight to my heart. But she would blush and look away, nearly always at the hideous snake.
With my returning strength came the recurrent desire to depart from the place forever. Also, in spite of all I could do, the thought of my gold—lying in the thicket, the treasure for which I had laboured so hard—would persist in returning. I tried to banish the dream of avarice, but it is a fearsome clutch which riches maintain on the imagination of poor, weak man. I felt quite convinced that great as my longing was for the world outside, that of the goddess was ten-fold greater. Of this I spoke, one day, when my restored condition gave promise that I should not fail for lack of strength in what I might undertake. Into the eyes of that faithful girl came a burning light, which would have made the heart of any man bound with feeling. She spoke, however, with her usual control.
“I should like to leave this place,” she said, “but I prefer to wait until you are strong and masterful, as you were when I saw you first.”
At this it was on my tongue to speak of the future, and of certain hopes which had grown in my thoughts, of a home to be and of happiness, but I curbed this desire as being untimely while she depended so entirely upon myself for deliverance.
Having dwelt no little on the prospect of the future in this camp, in which—unless we escaped—I could see my own skeleton hung up on a stump, and with no fine plating of gold upon it, either, I had small desire to remain in the land another day. Strangely enough, however, I had no sooner begun to make our preparations for leaving, than memory dragged in every happy day I had spent with my Links, every thrill of triumph in my puny successes, every faithful or affectionate deed which these simple, half-animal creatures had ever performed toward myself. I own I was foolishly attached to a number of the poor forest-children, who watched me always with such a dumb look of regard, and wonder as to what I was.
It is not a boast to say that I had wrought an ineradicable effect upon these less than merely primitive people. In turn they had been my willing slaves, my companions—my everything of life. I thought of Little Tike, and blessed his memory for the days of real enjoyment he had given me when I was mending from a serious injury once before. But after all—there was that gilded skeleton to think about and to dread. What profit was it to a skeleton that sundry Missing Links still adored the ground before it? I preferred to be a man of meat, unadored for the rest of my life, rather than to be a gold-plated pile of bones, worshipped madly throughout the centuries to come.
Thus, taking matters quietly, I made myself and the boat ready for the long, uncertain cruise. I was quite aware that we might be leaving a place of comparative safety, for waters and lands of which the dangers might be innumerable and the chances for escape absolutely nil; I agreed, mentally, that we might be making a terrible mistake which we would recognise when too late for any retreat, but these were the risks we were obliged to assume. I believed I could win, in this game with fates unknown, and virtually I wagered both our lives on the outcome of the play.
One of my chief concerns, in stocking the boat, was that of providing water. As long as we floated on the river we should have this in plenty, but if we did reach the sea, matters might be altered. The best I could do was to take my tortoise shell, to hold a fair supply. It was an easy matter to provision ourselves with meat, for strips which I cut from various kinds of game, dried in the sun in a manner most satisfactory, furnishing a palatable supply, which, with salt, was not at all bad to chew upon by the hour.
For weapons I depended on the bow and arrows, a club and a number of good flint hatchets, in addition to four small bombs, with complement of fuse. In order to provide an ever-ready brand of fire for these, should occasion to use them arise, I selected a goodly quantity of the wood which retained the glow so long, after which I lined all the bow-end of the boat with clay, so that I could build my blaze on the bottom and yet do no harm to the hull by burning. I meant to carry my fire along, for I had experienced all the “pic-nics” I wanted for the lack of this useful thing. Among sundry other materials, I provided myself with several coils of good, stout line, made by braiding together the small, pliable creepers. At this work the goddess assisted splendidly.
All the skins which had formed my gold bag, had been left behind, in my flight from the Blacks, of course, but my Links having learned the process of curing pelts in the brine, had worked up some very good pieces. On these I levied a tax—the only one I imposed during my reign—thereby fitting the craft out in some degree of comfort, for the goddess had dressed herself in all the hides I had left in my shelter. This seemed to be the concluding ceremony, except that I made sure my oars and thole-pins were staunch, and I cut a long slender pole, to be used for any purpose which might develope later on.
My decision was made to leave in the late afternoon, in order to pass the camp of the Blacks after night had rendered them cowards. At the very thought of their village, that bag of gold clamoured for another fling at fortune. I was a poor man, in my own country, howsoever wealthy I might consider myself in Linkland; the temptation was great. But I shook my head decisively. I had an undoubted right to risk my own neck, but I had not the slightest right to risk the personal safety of a helpless woman. No, I must shut my eyes to the glitter, and pass the treasure by—like a man!
Although I had made frequent excursions in my boat, many of which had required preparation, the Links seemed to comprehend that on this occasion the matter was one of much more importance and gravity for all concerned. When all was ready and the hour drawing near, I attempted to convey to the assembled tribe my intention of going, with the goddess, so far that I should never return. That they understood, I am positive; the poor fellows were greatly affected. They regretted the arrival of that day as plainly as if they had said so in a most solemn chorus. Even the albino female, weak, inconsequent creature that she was, and like a woman, would have forgiven everything and promised to be good all the rest of her days, to have changed my decision. She wept on the ground, sincerely. I felt saddened myself; I admit it freely. These rude creatures had all seemed like my very own; they were more than faithful animals, and yet they commanded a strange sympathy, being less than men.
When ready to go, I carried the great rock-crystal club to the ex-chief and placed it again in his hand, as he stood there and wondered.
“Take it back,” I said, as if he could understand every word, “you are man enough to wield it well. Boys,” I added to the others, “don’t go backward again; stick to the bows, and make new ones for yourselves, to shoot the pigs. Try to be good, manly fellows. And—and I hope you won’t entirely forget me, when I’m gone.”
Turning quickly away, I shouldered the gold-nugget club and started for the boat, to which the goddess also repaired. Old Fatty was whining, as he followed at my heels, and after him trooped every creature in the tribe, till all stood together on the shore.
In the boat was everything we needed, so far as I could plan and provide, including a lot of the freshest fruit to be obtained. The goddess took her seat in the stern. Seized with an impulse, I turned to my loyal fellows and held out my hand to the chief. He was wholly at a loss to know what I meant, yet so natural is the gesture that he placed his hand in mine without even knowing that this shake was the symbol of friendship, greeting and farewell. The others followed his example, in wonder, and with awkward motions, so that I bade good-bye to all the “men.”
Fatty, who was eyeing the boat and whining and giving little jumps of indecision, knew not what to do. I stepped in the craft and pushed her gently off.
“Come on then, Fatty,” I said to my good, old fellow, and bounding through the tepid water, he did actually leap into the boat and sit there, shivering with awe and delight.
“Good-bye, old camp; good-bye, my friends,” I said, as we drifted slowly away. “God keep you, poor children of the jungle.”
The chief and all the others got down on the ground, along the bank, and paid me such a tribute of genuine esteem as I shall never know again. This was their long farewell; this was their voluntary expression of love and regret. At that moment, more than any other in my life, I was a king.
As long as we could see them, the Links continued to watch the boat departing. Even the goddess, who had conceived such a hatred and fear of the Blacks, felt that these simpler fellows were not wholly savage and bad; she even waved them good-bye till we passed around the point, after which we were quiet for several minutes.
Old Fatty was thoroughly frightened. He crouched down and trembled, raising his head timidly from time to time to look about, but always ducked it back under his arm as if he thought that to shut out the sight was to eliminate the imaginary danger. I pitied him, but felt a greater affection for the old fellow than ever before, to think he preferred to undergo this torture, rather than to remain behind when I had gone. It was a wonderful compliment, and so I shall always think. But I hoped his fears would soon depart, for I was sorry to see him distressed.
When I turned from the last view of our friends, to smile at the goddess, I noticed for the first time that she was minus the anaconda.
“Why—we’ve forgotten your darling, beastly old snake,” said I. “If it makes a lot of difference, why—of course—”
“I left it purposely,” she interrupted, rosy red.
“The deuce!” I exclaimed. “I thought the critter was your pet—the one thing on earth—”
“My pet! Oh, the horrible, crawling thing!” She shuddered at the memory, to my great, but secret delight. “I hated the nasty thing—I loathed it!” she expostulated fervently. “I hope I’ll never see another snake again!”
This was a huge surprise. “Gee whizz!” said I.
“Gee wizz!” echoed Fatty, and he ducked his head back with a snap.
“But—er—why, then,” I resumed, “why did you lug it around?”
“I took it as my only protection,” she replied with dignity. “I had to be protected from the outrageous brutes!”
“That’s so,” I admitted, abashed. “I might have thought of that. Of course—just as plain as day.... You’re right—I’m a donkey.... Yes.... But—but why have you thrown him away, now?”
“Because,” she murmured, looking at me timidly, while she blushed again, “because I don’t need him—any more.”
“Well—bless my soul!” said I, and that was all.
Sending the boat along steadily, for the sun had set and darkness would soon be coming, I thought of many things. My gaze rested on Fatty, who was now beginning to look about him a trifle more boldly. What should I do with the old fellow, provided we all got safely out of the country and once more mingled with men? How astonished he would be at the sights of steamers, railroad trains, cities, and the hurrying crowds of people! I could fancy his comical face, as he looked in my eyes, like a bewildered dog. Would it ever be possible to put him in clothes and have him about me? I knew he could learn many useful things, and even much of my speech, but whether a Missing Link could really be kept, as a servant, or friend, was a question requiring no little amount of thought. Of one thing I was certain, I would never under any circumstances permit him to become a freak, nor even an object of people’s idle curiosity. Poor old, faithful Fatty.
By the time we arrived at Outlet river I felt that the darkness was sufficient to make it possible and safe for me to run the gauntlet past the camp of the Blacks. Cautiously I rowed the boat, bidding the goddess say nothing till we should be past the clearing.
I could see that she had become pale and frightened, as we neared the place in which for long she had been a prisoner, but also there was ample evidence of her courage. Without a sound, we glided by the bank where twice I had beached the boat, and my heart beat with excitement as I thought of the gold, lying so short a carry away. “Get it—take it!” prompted a thought in my brain, “it will only take a moment and then you will be rich!” But I conquered; I crushed out the tempting voice and rowed slowly on.
Proceeding across the river, to the side opposite the clearing of our foe, I watched for the camp, eagerly. We came sooner than I had expected to a point from which we could see the place. I looked, but was struck dumb with surprise. Not a fire did I see. I rested on the oars and listened; there was not a sound of the chattering Blacks. Daring to approach a trifle nearer, so great is human curiosity, I was still unable to discover a single sign of inhabitants on the flat where I had formerly seen them by the hundred.
“I’m a fish,” said I, “if they haven’t deserted the camp!”
They had gone, for a fact. There was not a Link of them left. They had fled, for what reason I could not even conjecture; and where they were was a question which I did not care to propound. It seemed to me that this lifted a great burden of worry from my shoulders. But as soon as I had made myself sure of the truth, my thoughts went flashing back to the bag of gold. If the Links were gone, I should run no risk in recovering the treasure. So potent did this idea become, that I immediately turned the boat back up the steam and began to row with vigour.
The goddess asked me at once where I was going. When I told her she seemed deeply to regret my resolution, but she sat there, grimly, and made no comment. Brave girl, I knew she was terribly agitated, but a girl could not be expected to do or to know any better. I admired her pluck in restraining her natural impulse to protest and coax and make a fuss.
In the briefest time, the prow was grating on the bank. Fatty leaped out, wild with delight to find himself again on solid earth.
“We’ll only be gone a minute,” I told the goddess, and led the way up through the brush and the darkness.
To tell the truth I was more than half afraid that something might happen, myself. Jungle noises had commenced and the place seemed to breathe of my flight, struggles and pains of the time before. Stumbling about, as silently as possible, I began to search for the treasure.
I had pictured myself walking straight to where the gold was lying, but I now began to realise that to re-discover the particular thicket where I had dropped it would be a matter involving considerable luck. A fruitless time elapsed while I plunged about. Fatty was of no assistance, for he knew nothing of what I was seeking.
Presently the same old grumble and roar, from the mighty cauldron, commenced to roll outward on the air. I knew at once I was off the track, at least twenty yards. Changing my base rapidly, I began the search anew. But it seemed utterly hopeless. A doubt came over me; was the bag still there? Might not the Blacks have found it and carried it away? It seemed as if this must be so. I was worried about the goddess; if anything should happen to her, how terrible it would be!
On the point of giving up the gold, and persuading myself that I did not care anyway, I turned to leave, and stumbled heavily over some obstacle and into a tangle of creepers.
“Here it is, all the time!” I grumbled.
My excitement rose to fever pitch in a second. The bag, exactly as I had dropped it down, was under my very hand. Lifting it out of the embracing tendrils, I got it boosted up on my shoulder in a hurry. Then back we plunged, through the growth.
If I live to be a thousand, I shall never see a face so expressive of dread and fright as was that of the poor, trembling girl in the boat, when at last we came to where she was waiting. I believe that hers had been a more cruel ordeal to endure than had been my own on the former occasion. I had not even thought to whistle a bit, by way of assurance that all was well. She had to cry, dear little woman, when the strain was over and the boat once more headed down the stream.
I spurned the gold with my foot, as it lay in the boat, and hated myself for a miserly, greedy fool, yet in spite of myself I felt a tremendous elation inside, to think of having all this wealth, after all. It seemed too good for me to contain myself over. I wanted to roar out in laughter, to sing, and to shout a mad defiance to all the Blacks in kingdom.
Fatty had entered the boat again, with more alacrity than before, desiring any fate with us rather than to be left alone in an unknown jungle after dark. He made himself small in the bottom of the boat, and we glided past the deserted camp of our defeated foe.
It was a strange sensation to skim along that river through the dark, irregular walls of trees, for the sounds of the jungle came to us clearly and these were all we could hear. At times we could see but a short distance ahead; at many a bend it appeared as if the great silent water-way ended abruptly. Then again it would open out and curve away, lighted only by its own reflections of the stars.
So much did this outlet wind that I lost all account of directions, but I knew we were traversing miles to accomplish but little direct advance. Our talking amounted to nothing. My mood was not for conversation, while I am sure the goddess dreaded to speak a word. From time to time some water creature splashed its way among the grasses, next the bank. No matter how often this sound was repeated, it made me start and breathe heavily till we were past the place.
The hours sped by, bringing no material change that could be noted. The night was exceedingly dark, owing in part to the density of the forest so near on either side. Pausing at length in my rowing, I observed that we drifted more rapidly than I had thought the current to be moving. Having become a trifle soft, while on my back, I found that my arms had grown tired already from the work. Fatty had succumbed to his habit of sleeping, acquired by going to bed at dark. His fears, however, had kept him awake much later than usual. He was curled down in the hold, where he twitched his feet and made little noises, like a dog that dreams.
I whispered to the goddess that she had better try to follow Fatty’s example, but I was quite unable to ascertain whether she slept or not, so still had she been for an hour. Deeming it wise to conserve my strength for the daylight rowing, I now permitted the boat to float down the river at its own speed, merely keeping her out toward the centre of the stream by steering with one or the other of the oars. She swung about, broadside on, but as this enabled me to watch ahead easily, I made no effort to keep her pointed directly down the current.
Drifting thus, I kept the lonely vigil, hour after hour. I think I have never felt more depressed than I finally became in that heart of the wilderness. Not that anything threatened, nor that the sounds about me were more than usually weird, but simply because there seemed to be no end in promise; there appeared to be no progress toward anything different from that interminable jungle, in which the river seemed merely to wind without purpose. I felt as if the stream were like a figure 8, on which we could float forever and never get out of the maze. I knew better than this, but everything contributed to make me hopeless. Sleepy and weary, dully aching in the muscles and bones made weak by the fever, I almost thought the whole business a failure and the life, for which I had fought so persistently, a mockery unworthy of the effort.
On and on, winding and curving, drifted the boat with its extraordinary cargo. Now and again I stirred the embers of fire, which were dully glowing in my furnace-like receptacle of clay. In this place these burning sticks appeared like the eyes of some crouching animal. I gave up all idea of ever seeing dawn. Nodding, jerking myself awake, bathing my heavy lids with water, steering my crooked course on this stream of mystery, I passed the time without a single relieving incident to break the deadening monotony of sound, motion and thought.
Even when the first yellow streaks of morning did make slits in the clouds, above the horizon of trees, it seemed as if the process of day-breaking ceased and that the actuator had forgotten the method. About this time, a rain commenced to fall, light, but wet and not desired. Fatty and the goddess awoke. I stumbled over the faithful Link to arrange a protection for the fire, which might otherwise have been extinguished. Then in my eagerness to get back to the oars and head us off from the bank, toward which we were gliding, I forgot to cover the bombs.
Grateful for the diversion, as well as for the company of my two companions, I picked up my spirits rapidly, becoming actually cheerful. This humour seemed to accelerate the coming of morning amazingly. The river reflected the pale streaks of light, the trees began to emerge in detail from the walls of gloom, and the dismal sounds, of hooting and howling things, were abated. Before we knew it, day was upon us, our winding course became a ceaseless invitation to hasten on and round the next succeeding curve, and we were drifting with a doubled speed.
Though the rain continued to fall, it was not annoying. I ate a bit of fruit and manned the oars, soon having us going at an encouraging speed. When the sun peered over the edge of the world, I felt like a boy. I let out a shout and a roar to relieve the pressure of over exhilaration. The echoes chased through the jungle madly.
Glancing ahead I now discovered that the river narrowed down abruptly between rude stairways of rock. On either side were shelves of the adamant, not more than a foot above the tide; the whole gateway was barely more than six feet in width. As might have been expected the current was fairly being sucked through this chasm, which explained the extra speed of the current where we were.
Seeing nothing in or about the place which should make it difficult of navigation, I merely kept the boat headed for the centre of the pass and let her shoot along with the powerful sweep of waters. The place was not long, nor were the rocks high nor difficult of access from the banks below. I remember to have thought how easily a man could cross the river at this peculiar place by simply jumping.