The boat was tossed on the turbulent surface, as we darted through, but below was another broad, smooth expanse, and the ever-inevitable curve of the river. This latter we reached soon. I was then somewhat surprised to observe two things: First, that for several hundred feet the stream was nearly straight, and second that it narrowed again below us, between banks a yard in height on which the growth was dense and which were so close together that several slender creepers hung like the cables of a projected suspension bridge across the stream, from branch to branch. I thought the wind must have blown the first slight tendrils over and that later they had grown to their present size. I also noted that again the placid river became rapids, which tossed and foamed in their agitated plunge between these banks.
Absorbed in what I saw and watching my course narrowly, I gave no heed to anything else. Therefore I started with galvanic quickness at a sudden scream from the goddess. In answer, a chorus of yells, triumphant, and diabolical enough to curdle the blood in one’s veins, went up instantly. Then the jungle below us appeared literally to swarm with terrible forms.
The black Links, dancing like maniacs, screaming and racing toward the rapids to intercept us, were surging from every possible space between the trees, on the left-hand side of the river. They dashed ahead, fully comprehending the situation and their own advantage. I thought I could beat them to the rapids, but they were there by the score before we could approach within a stone’s throw of its top, a fierce and terrible array, armed with their clubs with which they could not have missed us by throwing.
To have attempted to run through the narrows would merely have been to court a sudden death. I backwatered quickly and held the boat from drifting. Fatty was whining; the goddess was white as paper. I thought of the rapids above us, against the current of which I could not have pulled the boat to save our souls. I looked about and noted the densely wooded banks, which made escape in that direction impossible, even if we could have landed on the side opposite the foe in the vain hope that they could not get across as easily as we.
We were trapped!
The wild brutes, insane to get the goddess again in their clutches, mad to tear Fatty in shreds, and crazy to beat me to a pulp, as their arch-nemesis, simply writhed in eager anticipation of bagging us all, in spite of all we could do.
It was maddening; it all but drove me out of my senses. I knew that to wait for night would mean that when they were goaded sufficiently by their own impatience, the monsters would reach us, even if they had to swim, in addition to which I should certainly not dare to run the rapids after dark. Escape was utterly impossible, turn where I might.
The greed for gold had done the trick! The time I had wasted to get it would have saved us. Had I not delayed, we should have passed this place before the light had become strong enough to reveal our presence.
The demons never ceased for a moment to yell. That they knew we were caught I could not doubt. Not only did the males all congregate to smash us to atoms if we should attempt to shoot the rapids, but the females also appeared like magic from the jungle and lined up along the bank, a cruel looking mob with fingers that itched to tear poor Fatty and me to strings of meat. I was alarmed, desperate, and enraged by turns. Keeping off the boat and attempting to see a way out, I suddenly thought of my bombs.
Immediately I conceived a plan by which I meant to scatter the fiends in utter dismay. Dropping the boat down toward them I stopped it just outside the range of their clubs and headed it back up the stream. Before it had ceased to go forward, under the impulse of a powerful stroke, I shipped the oars, grabbed up a bomb and darted over Fatty to the fire. Snatching up an ember, I applied it to the fuse, meaning to throw the deadly explosive into their midst and dart through the rapids in the instantaneous confusion which would follow.
But the rain had dampened the powder!
The fuse would not ignite! The trick was worse than a failure!
With a curse on my lips, I sprang back to the oars and spun the boat about, barely in time to save it from shooting the narrows broadside on. A dozen clubs, whizzing and hurtling end over end, splashed the water about us, as I drove the boat back to a safe position. In despair I examined all the bombs, only to find them as useless and harmless as so many hunks of cork. All my elaborate work to provide myself with these weapons and with the fire to make them of use, had been wholly undone in a moment of thoughtless neglect. I might have protected these instruments of death, but I had failed at the critical moment.
The weight of this calamity nearly overcame me. It seemed as if the bombs had been our only hope, and that now we were certainly doomed. The raging Blacks yelled more horribly than ever; they were more assured of their prey. Nothing more ferocious can be imagined than this mass of fiends, many of them foaming at the mouth, all excitedly moving from place to place, and all showing fangs of teeth, as they watched us with the nervous, near-together eyes which I knew so well.
I was rendered so thoroughly unfit by the failure of my bombs, that I gave up trying to think of any other way of outwitting the monsters. The rain re-commenced. With a bitter sniff of scorn at myself for the action, I covered the bamboo explosives with a skin, to prevent them from getting any wetter. As if powder could be any wetter when it has become too damp to ignite!
“Oh what shall we do? what shall we do?” moaned the goddess.
I tried to answer cheerfully, but having no sensible reply was denied even this negative pleasure. I tried to think, in order to make some rejoinder.
“There is only one scheme and that is nearly hopeless,” I told her at last. “If I can make them believe we are about to land on the opposite side, up above, perhaps they might abandon their present position and then we could make a dash for it and beat them past that narrow channel.”
She made no comment, but in her eyes there was such an imploring light that I deemed no effort too great to make. Somewhat inspirited by the plan concocted on the spur of a moment, I strung my bow and laid an arrow near and immediately turning the prow up stream began to row away from the waiting Blacks, toward the furthest bank we could see.
At first they were undecided, or else they refused to believe we were leaving. But their wits were keen only within narrow limits. Taking the bait, in a moment, they seemed suddenly to remember the rock-passage, over which they doubtless knew they could jump. By the score they chased up the bank, swinging along in the trees with astonishing agility and gaining on us every moment.
I was purposely rowing slowly, but with great show of exertion. As far as I could determine, from that distance, every demon in the tribe came chasing up the river, to be in at the death. Dozens of them remained visible, marking the position of the main body as it moved up the bank, but the great majority were soon hidden in the tangle of verdure, through which they weaved like so many animated black shuttles, playing in and out through the warp of green.
Steering now for the bank which was just below the upper rapids, and appearing to row with all possible haste, I had the extreme satisfaction of seeing our mad pursuers swarming toward the rocks where the stream could be leaped at a bound. So eagerly did they push and crowd, when they came to the place, that some, who paused undecided at the brink, were shoved headlong into the angry current. But no sooner was I sure that the ruse had succeeded than I swung the boat, as if she had been on a pivot, and sent her shooting down the stream with might and main.
Shrieks of rage and dismay burst from a hundred throats as the baffled demons suddenly comprehended my game. With all their speed, and in a frenzy of fury, they came running and climbing and swinging back. But this time I had the double advantage of a shorter, straighter route and the force of all the current to sweep me along. I rowed like an engine; the race was a race for life or death. Every muscle was strained, every volt of the superhuman dynamic, developed by the peril of our position, surged upward to drive us onward, toward that narrow gate of safety.
We neared it; we were far ahead of the mob; I saw victory smiling in the sun-lit jungle beyond. Like a hideous black comet, then, athwart my line of vision, a Link suddenly swung across the river, on one of the creepers that spanned the space between the banks. He reached the branches on the opposite side. Instantly another one followed. I groaned, for evidently they had been left there to guard the pass. Another and yet another swung across. They quickly formed a “monkey-bridge” and hung suspended above the water like a sagging hammock—not from the creepers, which would have broken, but each from the arms of his neighbour. In less than half a minute their line was complete. We were still driving toward them.
“Oh, the horrible old woman!” cried the girl, in affright.
I realised then that more than half the creatures in the bridge were females; and out across them came swinging that she-devil who had caught me with the gold, and whose fingers I had severed, and whose ribs I had skinned—the harpy who had watched the goddess like a hawk.
She meant to lean down over the ones in the bridge and clutch the girl, as we shot beneath their bodies. Then others quickly joined her who intended to snatch for Fatty and myself. It was diabolically clever. If ever they reached us with those powerful arms, they could hold us against a team of pulling horses.
To turn now meant to abandon all hope; the Links who were tearing after us behind, once fooled could be hoaxed no more; and all would be more than ever infuriated and likely to swamp the boat. It looked like a swift and awful death.
In a heat of uncontainable rage myself, I stood up, as we swept toward the rapids, and grabbing my bow, strung an arrow in desperate haste and drew for a shot, which fury made vicious and fierce. I had become so angered that I seemed to care nothing for what could happen. The arrow sprang away like a streak of light. Just at that second the line of Links slipped down a foot. In the brief time before the shaft could arrive, my heart sank with dread—the slip of the target had ruined my shot.
But like the angered messenger of hate which it was, the arrow struck where it had not been aimed—in the forearm of a Link who supported the weight of all the line. It stabbed clean through, tearing the muscles savagely as it plowed. Down swung the whole living bridge of demons, with the shrieking “old woman” in the melee, for that supporting arm let go as if it had been slashed in twain.
Instantly the dropping fiends struck the stream where the current boiled like a mill-race. Splashing, battling, screaming in fright, the intertwisted monsters went swiftly down, every one trying to climb out on his neighbour, all of them fighting, rolling like rags of waste and gurgling as they attempted still to yell, with mouths full of water.
The boat by this time had been caught in the tow of the torrent. We swung down into the foam and tossing waves and drifted into the mass of brutes as they fought and drowned in the irresistible flood. Two of them flung an arm across our gunwale. Yelling as madly as themselves, we beat them off with the clubs, Fatty fighting like a fury. The hideous old female clutched in desperation and fastened her deadly grip on the wrist of the goddess. What a scream of malice and triumph she gave! I jumped across the seat and struck her arm a blow that smashed the bone and flesh to a quivering pulp on the edge of the boat. About her neck was flung the arm of a drowning beast at her side; and down they went together.
Yells upon yells now arose from the other Blacks, who had come to the narrows. We were slowly revolving in a whirlpool. The creatures could still have dashed to positions above us and sunk the boat with their clubs. I shot out the oars and drove the craft quickly ahead. A monster came boiling to the surface; I slashed him hard with my right-hand sweep and he sank like a rock. One, a rod away was swimming with the inborn skill and instinct of all wild animals, but the others had fought one another, fatally, in that vortex of swirling water, and only this one got back to the bank.
Through the seething foam to where the turbulent river grew calmer, we sped away, and at last these implacable demons were far behind.
Had the Blacks known the country and human ways of cunning, they could still have cut across the neck of a loop in the river, and so have overtaken the boat, but this was beyond their sagacity. I feared they might have forestalled us thus, so that when we came along to where they should have been, in such an event, I was alert for trouble and hugged the further side of the stream. Of course we passed the place unmolested.
The sun was shining brightly now, as if in promise of fairer things to come. We had been too horrified to speak, but at last we breathed our relief, and shuddered as we reviewed the fearful hour which, thank God, was now of the past. Then we ate of our food, for all were faint from hunger, and I stirred up and fed the fire, and laid out the bombs to dry in the tropical heat. Also I moored the boat from the branch of an overhanging tree, by means of the rope I had taken along. I needed rest as much as food.
There in the shade we floated quietly for more than an hour, during which time I slept like a worn-out child, in a wretched position, but yet dreamlessly and without the slightest inconvenience. I awoke much refreshed. The goddess would have permitted me to slumber as long as I listed, nevertheless she was anxious to be going ahead, seeing which I cut us loose, and again we were hurrying down toward the sea.
It was a long and somewhat tedious day. We shot more rapids, a number of which threatened various dangers, and we rowed through a broad, shallow lagoon that was almost a lake and in which there were alligators galore. Of these the goddess had a natural horror, only exceeded by that of poor Fatty. However, the saurians were quite as alarmed as we, having never before seen the like of our floating terror, which the boat with extended oars seemed to represent, so that we cleared this place without delay and without a battle.
Along the banks of the river, which presented itself in multitudinous aspects, we beheld troops of monkeys and apes, vast flocks of parrots and other noisy birds, which made the trees seem to quiver with life. Tortoises were frequently started from a sun-bath, when they plunged into the stream with clumsy haste. There were toads in great variety and of snakes an ample representation. Of these latter reptiles some were swimming in the water, while others lay upon the banks and others again hung suspended from the trees, masquerading, it appeared to me, in imitation of creepers. The insects were exceedingly pestiferous, especially where the river became wide, sluggish and grown with rank grasses.
The changing panorama of jungle, hills, grassy clearings and rocky ravines, was one of unquestionable beauty, yet I felt no joy in observing it stretch and unfold so endlessly before us. I waxed impatient to be out of the maze. In spite of all I could do, I was conscious always of the ominous stillness about us, and of a sub-stratum of fear in myself, as I dwelt upon the thought of things which might occur. I have said before, and I repeat frankly, I am not a courageous man. The constant succession of events and the omnipresence of menace to life and limb had wrought sad havoc with my nerves. When I fought, it was nearly always because I felt so frightened and nervous that I had to do something desperate to relieve my feelings. At other times anger had made me reckless.
We had passed a number of tributary streams, so that the river was now of much greater volume. Thinking of this, I was deeply puzzled, at noon, to find that not only had the current ceased to assist me forward, but that on the contrary it seemed abruptly to have reversed. Attributing this “illusion” to my weakened condition of brain and muscles, I worked harder than before to drive the boat along. There was no sense in blaming myself, however, for soon the up current became actually visible, as well as strong. Then I was suddenly made glad, and knew I had been once more a dunce.
The tide from the great sea itself was rising and driving everything up, against the flow of the river. This glorious news I imparted at once to the goddess. How she rejoiced! But even then, her feelings were most expressed by her lustrous eyes, for she found it difficult to speak of escape, and I think she dared not hope, for fear a jealous fate would hear her wish and proceed to shatter every possibility of deliverance from this wide-open prison.
It being a useless expenditure of energy to pull against this tide, I secured the boat to a vine-covered log, which protruded above the water, and let her swing as she would. We refreshed ourselves again with the fruits and a bit of the jerked meat. Already many of the mangoes and papaws were becoming soft, in the heat. Instructing the goddess to wake me the moment the tide should turn, I snatched another nap.
Before long we were slipping so swiftly downward on the ebb of the current that I was quite content to steer the boat and let it make its own pace. Thus we skimmed rapidly along until late in the day, the smell of the life-giving sea wafting to our nostrils, till it filled us with joy unspeakable. Building my plan as we rode on the bosom of the river, I decided to make the camp in the stream, or on the bank, within the mouth of the outlet, rather than to venture on the ocean with night descending. After a needed period of rest, we could explore the coast of the land for a village, in the morning.
The sky had become a trifle clouded before we resumed the drifting, after my slumber; this condition now increased. Having been taught my lesson before, I did not intend to be caught again. I spoke to the goddess, asking her to steer us a bit, but the poor girl had fallen asleep from exhaustion. Letting the craft take her course, I stretched a protection over the fire and then turned about and performed a similar service for the bombs, which had been dried thoroughly.
While I was fairly in the midst of this important business, Fatty gave a sudden cry of alarm. The next instant the boat struck upon the end of a spit of land which projected out into the stream. I was thrown on my knees; the craft swung with her bow as a pivot on the sand.
Getting erect with the thought that no harm was done and that to push off was only the work of a second, I was amazed to see a troop of creatures darting toward us—my old enemies the hideous ourang-outangs!
The goddess was jolted awake; she gasped in terror. Reaching for an oar to push us off I found it caught in the skin that wrapped the bombs. I jerked and wrenched; the delay was fatal. The monsters descended the bank like an avalanche. Hampered as I was with the oar, I became the easiest victim. Before I could drop the sweep to make a fight, the brutes leaped across the beach which was between themselves and the boat. Myself, the girl and Fatty were all but surrounded,—hideous murder loomed before us in a second.
Then Fatty, the faithful, the frightened, the loving, hurled himself upon the brutes, defending me from instant capture and death; and the fierce creatures gathered him to them. They tore him, bit him, fell upon him and mangled his body in a manner frightful to see. He was done to death most horribly in less than half a minute.
The boat, relieved of his weight and shoved by the backward push of his foot, as he leaped, swung off in the stream and began to drift away. I sprang to where my bombs were lying, mad for vengeance, and tore one out of the skin. Then scrambling to the fire, I snatched up a flesh-searing coal and touched the fuse. It sputtered in swift anger. I threw the deadly thing with all my force. While yet in the air, only mid-way between those monsters and ourselves, the bomb exploded with terrific violence. I saw a gigantic star of fire; I felt as if the world had burst against my head. Then I fell forward in the boat and was utterly blotted out.
The force of the bomb must have been tremendous. I believe it was hours before I regained consciousness. When at last I did revive, I was dizzy and deafened, the world about me was black, a storm was raging in the heavens and the boat was heaving with a great commotion. Everything was puzzling. Finally I remembered something of what had happened and knew where I was.
“Dearest,” I said, giving the goddess the name which I had only dared to call her to myself, “dearest—are you there?” and I crawled toward the stern.
“Here—John,” said a faint, sweet voice, and then I found her hand and knew that she too had been long unconscious, after that moment of terrible things.
We were on the sea! Of that I was soon made sure. The wind was driving us—the Lord only knew where; the waves were tossing the boat about as if she had been but a thimble afloat; and the spray flung across us and drenched us both repeatedly. This had doubtless fetched us around, the goddess first, for she had been less injured than I by the explosion, having been seated, while I was standing, at the fateful moment. The tide had carried us straight out to the ocean, as we lay helpless in the craft.
We crouched in the bottom of the boat and clung to the seat for an age. The rain came driving down; the force of the gale appeared to increase, and we scudded away into the black abyss which had for its limits the ends of mighty ocean.
We were out of our prison, adrift on the boundless main. When morning came, we raised our heads and searched that wilderness of water—in vain. No island—no ship—nothing was there in sight, save tumbling mountains of water. We were lost in that trackless jungle of billows.
Of the day and the night of physical and mental anguish that followed, I have no desire to think. Two souls made one by sufferings long endured, we sought and found our only consolation in the words of hope and affection, which each could give to each.
What water remained, or had been collected from the downpour, in the shell of the tortoise, got slopped out soon in the boat. It mingled with the salt water, shipped from time to time, and swashing about, ruined the meat and fruits, put out the fire and soaked the skins. Then the sun and the scorching air played their tricks at parching and burning us up. How useless and vain seemed the sack of gold, lying there in the wash!
I cut and broke the pole I had taken along, and lashing the shorter piece across the boat, to the oar-lock pins, made the other stand upright, with a bit of skin flapping idly, for a signal of distress.
Toward the evening of the second day we sighted a steamer. As we were low to the water and they were high, this boat was comparatively near before we saw her loom above the horizon. She made us out, at last, and we breathed our thanks, to see her put about and bear down toward the good old boat which had served so nobly.
Then it was that a surge of feeling welled up within me, thoughts of my long exile, the friendly Links—who had saved my life,—and of poor old Fatty, who had sacrificed himself like a hero at the end—poor old Fatty, my loving and beloved friend.
“What is it, John?” said the goddess tenderly.
“Oh nothing,” I faltered, swallowing hard at the lump in my throttle, “I—I was just thinking that now—that now I’m no longer King of the Missing Links;—I’m just an ordinary man.”
END.