Our work of creating things of flint began that same day, although the afternoon was far advanced when we arrived. I was in a fever to complete our preparations against any future aggressions on the part of the enemy, particularly as I had a growing conviction that Grin, the deserter and treacherous devil, had gone straight away to hunt for the Blacks. I believed his sole intention was that of betraying his kind and thereby of wreaking a vengeance for all the punishments which he had rightfully undergone.
All the questions I could ask about the fellow, through the medium of my few words in Linkish and my signs, which were supplemented by my native language, failed to elicit any satisfactory information. Having too much to do to spend my time in thinking of the beast, I set my selected assistants to work at splitting out slabs of flint.
The greater part of the pebbles, I had my fellows bury in a moist, shady place, for, labour as diligently as we might, we could not complete the work on a third of the stone, as I knew, before the hot air would begin to render the stuff as hard as glass and quite unworkable.
During all next day we were at it, hammering, chipping and forming. Four fellows, clever at binding were heading the arrows already provided, and lashing hatchets and knives to handles. That night, by way of a pleasant diversion, I secured some fragments of charcoal, and reducing this and some of my sulphur and nitre to a flour, mixed the three together and ground the grayish substance for a time, between two stones. Such a dust arose that I was obliged to sprinkle the stuff with a few drops of water. This seemed to help it in combining, but do my best, I could not make the mixture resemble gunpowder in the slightest degree. Having just about decided to give the task over, as one presenting difficulties too great for me to cope with successfully, I took a palm-full of my material and, by way of experiment, threw it on the fire.
Instantly the well-known hiss resulted and a dense cloud of pungent smoke arose with such a quickness that I stumbled backward from the place, involuntarily. Only Fatty and one or two others of the Links beheld this exhibition, the others being already asleep. The fright depicted on the faces of this small but select audience was a wonderful thing to see. I determined at once to set about burning a quantity of charcoal, for already I had conceived an idea that it might be possible to utilise the explosive to advantage, and I intended at least to give my scheme a trial.
On the day that followed, the first thing I did was to have the Links collect a lot of wood, the softest and driest I could find. This I heaped up in a conical pile and walled in snugly with turf and a little of the clay, which was everywhere about us. When it was lighted and smoking slightly through various small chinks, I banked it up around the bottom and returned to the work on the flints.
Before we got through with those pebbles we had rough but serviceable arrow-heads by the hundreds, knives in plenty, hatchets for all, with some to spare, and sixty or eighty spear-heads, which were bound to long, stout hafts, in the regular course of finishing up. I reserved for my own personal arsenal two axes, two knives and fifty of the finest arrows in the lot. Also I assumed a general command, as custodian, over all the weapons and utensils in the tribe’s possession.
No sooner were the armaments complete than I went to my powder-making with indefatigable vigour, thankful for every day that passed without bringing the foe, which I dreaded and thoroughly expected to see come swarming up the slope from the woods. I made my fellows pound up charcoal till some were nearly as black as the enemy for whom we were preparing. The powdered stuff we placed in the baskets, several of which I plastered inside with clay, which dried hard and firm. The saltpetre, which we dug and brought up the hill, was treated in a similar manner, as was also the sulphur. Anyone to have seen me directing this business would have thought I intended to supply an old-fashioned navy with explosives.
During these days I in nowise neglected the archery practice, which alone could make my warriors capable of using the weapons to advantage. We shot at a target the size of a man, which I fashioned out of skins and heavy palm leaves. This being backed by a sort of hedge, constructed of bamboo and more of the leaves, we lost but few of the arrows employed. And the arrows used were not from our pointed stock, though they were whittled sharp on the end, so that many pierced the target as neatly as a bullet. Thirty of my force grew decidedly efficient, being accurate, strong shots who could be relied upon to perform good work on any attacking party. We also used the spears, in the throwing of which the Links took great delight. I was sure that come what might, the fellows would never again be so primitive as they were when first I met them in the jungle. Whether I left them or not, they would hereafter possess weapons which would place them far above the Blacks in point of capacity to kill.
One of the greatest difficulties with which I had to contend, while making my powder, was the frequent coming of rain. This threatened to make it all too wet to be of any use. There were also many days when a thick, damp fog rolled upward from the lower levels, slowly evolving into a ponderous cloud which covered all the jungle-world. The baskets containing the pulverized materials were doubly protected, however, by skins, and the roofs of the special dug-outs which we made, but the roofs were never entirely water-tight.
Being unacquainted with the recognised formulæ for mixing various powders, I simply took about three parts charcoal to one each of nitre and sulphur, and set the Links to grinding these substances together, slightly dampening the whole as before. The grayish stuff, which I regarded finally as the best product of which we were capable, I stored away, next to my own shelter. There must have been two hundred pounds of this powder, the making of all of which had only occupied us for a short time, after the several ingredients in their rough state had been assembled.
In order to impress the tribe with the urgent necessity of keeping all fire away from the baskets, I dropped a glowing coal into a handful as it lay on a rock. The vivid flash did so much to accomplish my purpose that I could hardly get the Links to approach the dangerous mixture under any circumstances whatsoever.
My next step now was to visit the swamp where the thicket of bamboo flourished. In this place, as I had expected, there were all sizes of this peculiar tree-reed, but the largest ones appealed to me most strongly. I carried off what I thought I should need, and selecting the driest of my stock, cut off a large section behind the joint, on one end, and in front of the next joint on the other. The piece then resembled quite a cannon, without further ado.
This thing I was aware was much too brittle to stand an explosion, but I meant to try it, nevertheless. To begin with I bored a vent through the hard, thick shell, near the end that was naturally plugged. Then I reinforced that plug by lashing a stone across the end firmly. Next I split some more bamboo and laid the strips lengthwise along the barrel, thus doubling the thickness, after which I had the whole thing stoutly wound about with tough, slender creepers, till I was sure it would resist a powerful tendency to burst.
What to do for a fuse, when at length my piece of mountain artillery was loaded—with powder and rocks—puzzled me no little.
The thing was “mounted” half way down the hill, pointed toward an imaginary foe, and was amply weighted with rocks at the sides and on the top. At length I hit upon a plan for the fuse. It was simply to split a creeper, the outside of which we frequently employed, and to pull out the smooth, wire-like core inside, and then to fill the space so left hollow, with powder. In the sun this shell of the creeper dried out rapidly, rolling up so tightly in the process that it squirmed itself into several twists. This “habit” of the thing was exactly what was required, for when the powder was laid along inside, the chances for it to trickle out were exceedingly meagre.
About thirty feet of this fuse I laid to the “gun,” with stones along its length to keep it properly in place. Then, with a thumping heart under my shirt, I proceeded down the hill, alone, with a fire-brand glowing hotly in my fist. I looked all about, when I came to the match, and selected my path back up to the camp. Then I touched the end of the creeper—and jerked my fire away, quickly.
There was no alarming sputter after all. I tried again. The creeper smoked, giving forth a pungent odour, but the powder must have fallen out for a short distance. I cut off six or seven inches and had the satisfaction of seeing powder in plenty. This time it lighted and began to spit in a hurry. I darted off, stopped, looked back, saw a tiny smoke-snake running down the hill, and again I ran as hard as I could, momentarily expecting something tremendous to happen behind my back.
To my surprise I reached the camp and nothing had occurred. I turned about and looked, panting and yet attempting to hold my breath. There was nothing to be seen, save the heap of rocks where my “battery” was planted. I waited and waited. The seconds slipped by; the Links behind me were as silent as the grave. My heart ceased its violent jumping; the thing was going to prove a failure; the Links would think me a fool.
“I’ll have to go down and see what’s the matter,” I grumbled. “That fuse is no good.”
I had taken two steps when suddenly a great flare of fire leaped upward, the side of the hill appeared to fly into fragments and a roaring detonation split the silence into a thousand ringing reverberations. A cushion of air gave us all a push, and a huge geyser of smoke went upward in rolling, billowy gushes. I wondered in that second, how many pounds of that powder I had put in the “piece” in my natural anxiety to give it a good, square trial.
Something screamed weirdly in the air, while we stood speechless, and presently it came whirring down, a rod below the wall, striking the ground with a sounding thud.
Yelling in dismay, the second they recovered power to do anything, the Links fell over each other helter-skelter, in their great confusion, and desire to take to the woods. As for myself, I laughed and laughed like a veritable maniac, and threw my arms about myself and jumped in the air repeatedly, as tickled with my exploit as a boy. Then I ran outside and found my cannon, the thing which had whistled as it hurtled back to earth.
It was a “goner” and no mistake. Black as a hat, ripped from muzzle to breach, blown to pieces at the plugged-up end, it certainly gave the appearance of having “gone through the war,” but it pleased me not a whit the less.
“Why that’s all right,” I assured the surrounding stillness, “I’ll go to work and make a lot of bamboo bombs.”
The spot with the pile of rocks, where my cannon had been planted, bore ample testimony to the high explosive quality of my powder, for nothing was left in place and everything which had been in contact with the piece was beautifully blackened.
My frightened Links seemed to be anything but confident that I was not likely to burst myself, with a loud report, and scatter devastation everywhere. They stood off a distance that was more than merely respectful and were not to be induced to return to my side by any persuasion or assurances for more than an hour. I had no doubt they thought me a bit of a devil, for even Fatty and the children were afraid to return to my side. The single exception to this unanimity of feeling was furnished by my little favourite chap who seemed so human.
This tot of a Link had been much neglected of late, so busy had I been with work. Now when he came and clung to my leg, as I stood in the camp eating a mango and thinking busily, I looked down in his tiny face and felt happy to see him so near. Sitting down against my rock, in the sun-light, I let him cuddle down in his usual place, and together we enjoyed a time of peace. It became one of those natural spells of rest. I felt like easing off on the pressure of work for a time, having accomplished really all that seemed to be needful by way of making ready to receive any invaders of our village who might choose to come.
The attitude of Tike—as I called my little friend—did much to re-convince the Links of my normal, pacific intentions. Fatty was the first to return, doubtless actuated by a trifling touch of jealousy. After him the others came edging back, one by one, every individual inordinately curious to see if I were in any manner altered by the extraordinary disturbance which I had so recently created. All that day they evinced alarm and a readiness to run whenever I stirred about. For the powder, carefully stored away, they possessed a profound distrust and respect.
During the next few days I sat around for much of the time, always with wistful little Tike nestled up under my arm. The tiny chap seemed more quiet than before, if possible, and somewhat thinner. All the other little Links were as fat, rolly, bright-eyed and lively as so many Pah Ute Indian papooses, and equally red and naked, but Tike was almost a sad little fellow. He leaned his head against me by the hour, sighing now and again, and patting my big, brown hand with his wee, red one, as if there could be no greater content and happiness in the world.
The attack I had daily expected and against the advent of which I had laboured with such unremitting zeal, had failed to materialise. Day after day went by, with such a stillness and peace over all the world, that I began to forget the malignant Grin, who had kept the troubles simmering constantly, and to forget my fears of the savage Blacks. Without the slightest stir or bother, I kept my fellows in training with the bows, accompanied the parties on the hunt, kept the baskets and other essential properties of the camp in good condition and still found time leisurely to work at making my deadly bombs.
This labour I made simple and easy by selecting sections of bamboo which, when cut off to form cylinders open at one end only, telescoped together. That is the smaller cylinder, containing a large charge of powder, slipped inside the larger, and each being provided with a stone reinforcement, where naturally plugged, I bound the two shells together firmly. Five of these bombs were enormous, containing probably twenty-five pounds of powder. Some of the others were only about a foot in length and three inches or less in diameter. These smaller ones I intended to take with me in my boat, if ever I started on my voyage of escape. I thought I could throw them at any foe which might approach too near. Each was provided with a tube-like fuse, stopped with clay, to prevent the powder from running out, and which could be broken off at a moment’s notice to form a connection with the powder in a longer fuse, which could then be bound upon it. I also provided several coils of the match, made of creepers, each coil at least thirty feet in length. This became dry so that I determined that if occasion should ever arise I would make a fresh supply, keeping this other ready for emergencies.
The days of peace became weeks. So free from trouble had we become in the camp, since the disappearance of Grin, that my feverish desire to flee had somewhat abated. Moreover the albino female had partaken of such a thorough fright, on the day when my ordnance exploded, that she left me severely alone. Yet I did think constantly of the boat and should have busied myself more with my half-formed project of getting away, had I not been bound more closely than I realised to the Links by little Tike, who seemed to me to be fading away.
He came every morning to my shelter, often before I was awake, and when at last I stirred and turned over, there he would be, sitting quietly by the side of my couch, looking yearningly into my face with his steady, thoughtful eyes, and holding his tiny hands together in his “lap.” Always he greeted my look with a strange, quiet smile, which made his wee, homely face the very next thing to divine. I got to carrying the little chap about, as I went from place to place. I found that I missed him, when resting out in the jungle, after a hunt with my fellows. It also gave me a most unreasonable pleasure to talk to the tiny mite, who would answer with a faint, half-crooning sound of pleasure. I called him frequently my “Little Man.” At intervals, sometimes of days, he would repeat the word “Man” in a way that caused me to feel a peculiar thrill whenever it came from his lips.
As before, my attitude of comparative passivity begot more or less of the symptoms of familiarity on the part of several Links. This did no little in the way of deciding me anew to quit the place, if possible. I was doubtful in my mind as to which method would be preferable, that of attempting to find and utilise the outlet of the lake in my boat, or to endeavour to induce about fifty of the fighters to escort me across the country to the sea. But one day which we spent in the jungle decided me without further mental debate.
We were stalking a pair of hogs, which were unusually clever at evading the flanking Links and at penetrating far into the jungle, when suddenly the great, dark form of a genuine elephant loomed up, as he smashed his way through a thicket. Instantly every Link in the party screamed out an imitation “trumpet” of alarm and fled incontinently, as they had on the former occasion. This time I had no intention of being left behind, nor of giving battle to the brute with my fists and knife. I joined the running fellows, endeavouring to make them halt and retire in at least decent order, but this effort was utterly futile; their panic was complete and not to be overcome.
Thankful thus to be reminded of the former incident, which I had been too near to forgetting, I decided, even as we hastened away from the monarch of the jungle, that the attempt to perform any long and hazardous march with such a cowardly “army” as this at my heels would be madness. I must launch the boat and proceed alone.
It was not a difficult operation to bore some holes in the gunwale of my boat and to hammer in four stout pegs for row-locks, and then I put in a seat, constructed of thin bamboo strips, and all was ready. The craft was more than sixteen feet long, three feet in the beam and hollowed out to a depth of about eighteen inches. The launch was not effected until after I had secured a long, stout painter to the bow, the rope being made of creeper-fibre, twisted and braided. This was pliable and quite as enduring as hemp.
Although the Links were manifestly afraid of the lake, they were intensely interested when the craft upon which we had worked so hard and long, went splashing into the water. She righted herself in a second and floated high above the surface. But when I hauled her in with the rope and jumped inside, sat down and got out my sweeps, to row, the astonishment of the fellows was unbounded. They were frightened for my safety, uneasy to the verge of whining, as they ran up and down the beach, and still were all so fascinated that not one could look at anything else. Old Fatty acted precisely like one of those dogs who is crazy to join his master and yet dreads the water so greatly as to fear even wetting his feet. He lifted either foot, and half squatted and gave little jumps, as if about to plunge in and make a bold swim for the boat, till he appeared too ridiculous for words. Then he ran down the shore and back again and stood with his comical head on one side making me laugh uproariously.
The boat was great! She was inclined to roll a trifle, owing to the fact that she was the same size from stem to stern, and therefore minus the broad beam which makes a craft steady, but she was remarkably light to row and easily steered. Moreover I found, by throwing my weight to either side, that she had a powerful tendency to return to an even keel, which rendered her almost impossible to turn bottom upward. This I attributed to the fact that while her sides were comparatively thin, the bottom was at least eight inches thick, which made her light on top and heavy below, an excellent arrangement when to give her a larger belly was out of the question. I am bound to admit that she had no “lines,” that indeed she looked like the log she was, clumsy and quite ungraceful. Nevertheless I was prouder as I sat in her hold than is any captain of the noblest ship afloat.
I rowed her this way and that, across to a nearby point and then straight away down the middle of the lake for half a mile. When I turned I made out a floating thing a score of yards from the shore on the left—one of my alligator acquaintances, swimming about. I was not afraid of any attack in so large a boat, especially as my nature could not have been so readily surmised by the hungry saurians, while I was rowing. I should not have minded a race anyway, for I felt secure on my own stamping ground and as saucy as a boy with a toy pistol.
Before starting back, I noted particularly the outline against the sky which our hill and its neighbours formed, thinking I might be much in need of some such guide when I came to go further from home. Then I drove my craft with all the speed I could force. Her prow was slightly above the glass-like surface and the water swashed backward from her keel with a sound that stirred me to immoderate delight in this my supreme achievement.
The oars were heavy and the row-locks a trifle awkward; we rolled a bit to one side and I was obliged to keep fetching her nose about to port at every dozen strokes, but I made satisfactory time and just before she shot across the last fifty feet of water and rammed up high on the shore, a startled fish of some description, leaped bodily out of the water and darted off in affright.
My friends gave forth various notes of alarm and fell back quickly to the shelter of the trees. I was not at all certain whether they were most afraid of the fish or of me and the magic which they seemed to think I possessed. Fatty, however, was too glad to get me back to care for anything else. He fell headlong over the boat in his crazy endeavour to get his paws upon me and to roll on top of my feet.
Inasmuch as the day was too far advanced to permit of any extended explorations, I decided to try for a bit of sport.
“Boys,” said I, remembering an old-time joke, “which would you rather do or go fishing?”
I got them to fetch me a long line, made of thongs tied firmly together, while Fatty got a bird for bait and I cut a tough hard hook out of wood. For this I chose a V-shaped crutch, one leg of which became the shank, while the other was cut off shorter, sharpened and formed like a barb. With the line tied to this, a rock for a sinker and a piece of the bird spitted on my hook, I got out at the end of the boat and heaved the tackle out as far as the cord would permit.
I pulled it back with no result, save for a nibble when I had taken it almost in. I thought the fish must be small and near the shore. However, I tried again. The result was the same, only that I got two nibbles instead of one. The third cast was an aggravation, for some miserable sprat got my bait. We put on a fresh piece and tied it in place.
“Now,” I grunted, as I threw the line again, “we’ll see if you young sardines will—”
A sudden, hard jerk on the line nearly dragged me overboard, neck and crop. I had a bite which felt big enough to indicate a whale.
Bracing, I stopped the line abruptly from running through my hands; and then began a tug-o’-war. It was not a scientific fight, for I dared not permit Mr. Fish to take his head for a second, well knowing that when he turned and slacked the line, the hook would slip from its hold at once and let him escape. I therefore hauled at him hard and stubbornly, panting soon and leaning backward, for he felt as heavy as the bottom of the lake and quite as unwilling to be led as a mule. The strain came on the line and on the hook. If these held—what would we see?
I worked backward, inch by inch in the boat, till at last I was out on the shore. By that time the craft had been hauled off the bank and was all but ready to float.
“Here, Fatty,—come here—and help,” I panted.
Fatty understood and while he was filled with misgivings that made him actually tremble, he laid hold of the line and together we drew it in, hand over hand. Presently with a mad whirl our catch came floundering and slashing upward till it splashed the surface, in violent action, when it disappeared like a piece of lead. A minute later we hauled the thrashing denizen to shallow water and then clean out on the bank. It was a good-sized tortoise, fairly hooked, dripping, fierce-looking and struggling with all its might to get away.
Fortunately the Links knew something of turtles. Three plucked up courage sufficient to despatch our prize at my third shout of, “Shoot him! Pig!”
“Shoot” meant to slay, in any style or form, and “pig” signified anything in the way of game or a foe. The catch made my friends so enthusiastic that they wanted no end of fishing. It also provided a food of which they were fond, and it gave me a nice new basin. Deep-lake angling having proved to be hot, hard work, I bethought me of trying for something more quiet. Additional line was soon forthcoming, and a run up to camp provided a bamboo rod, after which I cut a smaller hook and baited as before.
At the second cast from the boat, I got a good sharp strike, and without the slightest ceremony jerked out a silvery fish a foot in length, of a species wholly unknown in my limited category of the finny tribe. In fifteen minutes I had seven of these, ranging in weight from one to four pounds, I judged, and all of firmer flesh than I had expected to find in water so warm. The enjoyable part of all this play was to hear the exclamations of wonder on the part of the Links, at every successive catch. Had I remained there a day, performing this feat every two minutes, I believe those child-like creatures would have stayed at my side, marvelling no less at the very last catch than they did at the first.
I created an incredible excitement, finally by making Fatty take the rod in his hand for a cast. He got a bite so quickly that it made him jump inside his skin, from toes to crown. The fellow would have fallen down and rolled away had I not held him fast and compelled him to land his flopping shiner. At this the Links behind us nearly had a fit. Amusement, curiosity, timidity and desire to come and do likewise made them the most excited and entertaining group in the world. One by one they worked themselves up to the frenzy of courage necessary to try their luck, but the ticklish, unique sensation of catching a fish so quickly dispelled their fears that before we finished they were fairly scrambling for the chance to be the next to try.
Beholding the immense satisfaction with which males and females, young and old, cooked and devoured our catch, I wondered that the Links had never progressed sufficiently to fish for themselves. The only explanation I was able to give was that owing to their dread of the lake, about the borders of which were innumerable snakes and alligators, they had never discovered this food and therefore knew nothing of the ease of taking all they could wish, by various primitive methods.
A small quantity of tortoise and one of the smaller shiners satisfied my craving for a change of diet, for neither was cooked to my liking, nor was the flesh of a flavour to give me any particular delight. However, I thought the Links deserved the play which the nearness of the lake afforded, and therefore I cut them a score of hooks, that night by the light of the fire, and had them prepare a lot of lines to tie at the end of some bamboo rods which they fetched before the darkness descended.
For myself, I laid out a bit of roasted meat and some fruit, got my bow and arrows together, and otherwise made ready for an early start on my tour of exploration.
The lake was a shimmering mirror, dashed with endless splashes of colour, when my boat glided swiftly away in the sunshine of the early morning. From the jungles that fringed the shores came many sounds of birds, singing, screaming and calling out. The noise made by my oars in the crude locks seemed to travel far and to echo back from every side.
Believing in systematic investigation, I chose the shore off to the right, along which I intended to cruise that day. I would try the left-hand side the following day, if necessary, and then, if the outlet I was seeking were still undiscovered, I might be obliged to undertake a much longer trip than either of these would become.
The alligators had apparently not begun to stir about on the shady side of the lake. I skimmed along within fifty yards of the shore, constantly watching for any indication of a stream flowing outward through the trees. The first hour brought no results; in the second I came to “my” creek, the stream down which I had plunged that evening of the storm, with the savage ourang behind me. Its volume was normal now, and therefore much less than when it had bowled me into the lake, nevertheless it tumbled over its last rocky leap with a pleasant murmur which sounded familiar enough, and bubbles of silver floated away on the placid surface of the water. It was good to recognise this old “friend,” for it gave me another guide and cleared up my mental map of the lake and surrounding country.
Beyond this point there were miniature bays and tedious windings of the shore, many of which I felt inclined to ignore, but any one of which might have hidden the outlet I felt so eager to discover. In not a few of the trees, which often overhung the water, I discerned troops of curious monkeys. Of these there seemed to be almost endless variety, but all were particularly shy upon beholding the strange creature out on the lake, though I had no means of determining whether or not they classed my boat and me among the ’gators.
From one rather narrow inlet I escaped as quickly as I could turn my craft and drive her back to the main body of water, for I nearly pushed my oar against a huge boa-constrictor, half hanging from a tree with its body partially submerged beneath the surface. Although I saw this reptile before approaching so near, I readily mistook it for a portion of the branch from which it depended. What it might have done, had I rudely disturbed the sleep in which it was quietly indulging, I did not pretend to know; it was quite enough for me that the creature was there, and that for all the snake family I have a great aversion.
The morning sped away. The heat of the day increased, so that rowing the boat became an irksome task, particularly as I found nothing but inconsiderable brooks, all of which flowed into the lake. Floating quietly, with the oars shipped, I ate my lunch and felt somewhat refreshed. A full hour of rest was spent in idly dabbling my feet in the water. Later in the afternoon I had a swim, but in this the pleasure was marred by a too persistent feeling of uneasiness about the monsters which the place might contain.
It must have been as late as four o’clock when at length I rounded a point and found a long, irregular estuary, not more than seventy feet in width, rank with grass and giving evidence of being the slack-water of a large stream. From its juncture with the lake, I was quite unable to determine its nature; it could have been either an inlet or an outlet, as far as I could see. Proceeding up the centre of this, I was not particularly gladdened to observe that my boat and oars were frightening three medium-sized alligators to the cover afforded by the growth on either side. Also there were great swarms of pestiferous insects, dancing above the water in the sunlight. However, if this did mark the outlet, I had to know it; the gauntlet would have to be run. It would be comparatively safe, I thought, as long as it was I who continued to frighten the alligators, instead of having them perform the office for me.
The place seemed literally alive with these monsters. I think it must have been a breeding ground, for there were little ones by the score. They all continued to be shy, but I confess I was not inspired with confidence in any of the creatures, nor yet with a large pressure of courage in myself. The insects settled upon me by hundreds. I slapped at them constantly, but in a few minutes I was bitten in no fewer than fifty places upon my hands, face and body and many of these spots had a drop or more of blood oozing out to mark their location.
Made desperate, I rowed as fast as caution would permit, being afraid every moment of incurring the wrath or exciting the hunger of some huge mother ’gator. The estuary wound away tortuously, into a realm weirdly luxuriant with creepers, giant exotics and trees overhung with parasitic vines. It narrowed down, also, which brought me nearer the banks, with their crawling life. I presently noted a number of water-snakes escaping in all directions, some of them near enough for me to strike them with the oars.
The sun was down toward the far horizon so that this place was in a dense shade, amounting to gloom. It was just as much as I could do to get my own consent to going further. It almost seemed as if I would prefer to live with the Links forever than to have the nightmarish features of this place increase or be nearer to me. I do not claim to be a man of bravery and this estuary, I confess, gave me the creeps. I was enormously relieved, in a moment, to hear a sound like rippling water. Then I rounded a point on which a brood of alligators had just made a landing, and saw where the water was in motion.
It was flowing into the lake, not out toward the sea. My investigation of the place had been time and energy wasted, not to mention nerves. In haste I swung my craft about and started back. As it stopped for a space, to turn, a water-snake crawled up, near the stern and glided across. The reptile was large, glistening and altogether as repulsively headed as Nature ever constructs.
I hit at it viciously, and it dodged and plunged into the slimy water like a shot. By that time my prow had drifted against the tail of an alligator which must have been lying asleep, concealed in the grass. He waked and gave the boat a bat with his great caudal extremity that made her quiver, as he scrambled to shore. There was such a chorus of dreadful sounds then that the creeps chased from my feet to the hair on my head. Added to the maddening torture inflicted by the stinging insects—some of which seemed large enough to be classed with vampires—the place gave forth an animal stench comparable only to that of a den of serpents. I grew “rattled,” in my frantic endeavour to get out of the place, and rowed against the shore, in one place, and into a tangle of reeds and vines at another. All of this added to my own confusion as well as to the sounds of hissing, squirming away and floundering in the water produced by the creatures whose home I had rudely invaded. Had the beasts turned upon me in that maze of horrors, I should have been wild enough to jump out of the boat and try to dash to shore and away through the swampy tangle and the jungle.
As I neared the exit, I did have the misfortune to strike not only the edge of a sort of grass island, but also the head of a baby ’gator, therein hiding. The mother gave forth an angry snort and started to overtake the boat. An oar got caught for a second but I jerked it loose and plunged it deep for a stroke that shot me away toward the lake. The furious reptile gained for a moment, but then I got down to boat-race work and slid away in a desperate mood. Paying too little attention to where I was steering, I forgot the tendency of the craft to yaw about to starboard, and therefore sent it fairly through a mass of green drapery hanging from a tree on the right-hand bank; and the tail of a snake which was climbing hurriedly up in the branches, dragged slimily across my neck.
I shuddered and nearly fell forward, but the boat had gained such headway that it pushed through everything and was floating free on the lake in a second. I bent to the oars anew, but Mrs. Alligator had turned back, defeated. Without waiting for more experiences I headed for home and commenced a steady pull.
It was nearly dark when at length I beached the boat and made the painter fast to a tree. The Links were in a state of great anxiety, fearing the dread lake had swallowed me down. They had fished, during my absence, with such success that they had lost every hook, snarled all the lines, broken several rods and procured about a hundred pounds of shiners for dinner.
A few of the fellows were attempting to fashion new hooks with the knives of flint. There was promise, in the work of some, indicating that in this direction at least there was chance for progress. Old Fatty, who had whined on the shore when I left in the morning, romped about me insanely, as usual. He and little Tike had occupied my shelter throughout the day, awaiting my return. My “Little Man” was asleep there when I entered, a troubled look on his serious little face. I carried him off to his mother, but he did not awake, so weary had he grown at his vigil that warm, long day.
He was crooning “Man, man” beside me in the morning, happily, yet so wistfully that it played upon every cord in my breast. How thin the little fellow looked as he gazed in my eyes with that dumb affectionate expression; how different he appeared from all the other Links, with the golden sunlight streaming in on his quaint, childish countenance. When I had taken my morning bath, I washed the tiny chap. He caught his breath in funny little gasps, but I think he liked it immensely. Then we ate my breakfast. He ate so small a portion that I shook my head and pushed the fruits aside before I had taken half my usual quantity.
Having vaguely thought of my exploration business as a duty to be continued faithfully, I had half intended to leave, later in the day, for a shorter trip. When the wee youngster nestled up to be comforted, the plan faded away. We would have a quiet day of rest and peace. The elders of the tribe, discovering my mood, gave up to the laziest of lounging and rolling about, playing at indolent games and wrestling, throwing bits of twigs and pulling at each other’s feet and toes. The chief and his white mate sat about in a somewhat superior style, the latter eyeing me sullenly from time to time, while her husband gazed by the hour into the half-clear depths of the great rock-crystal at the end of his club. The fellow seemed to adore this stone, as well he might, for by its weight and his own overtowering height he had made himself chief of his fellows.
His chieftainship continued, although I had long believed I could overthrow the fellow and usurp his power to add to my own, did I wish to create a disturbance. But inasmuch as I was in no way hampered, and was obeyed, my position amounted to that of a ruler, while I gave this giant Link no offense. As long as he continued to feel himself the master of the family, my own sway could never be complete, but for this I cared nothing as long as I was enabled to proceed with my plans. More than once I might have taken advantage of the awe created by natural means to bring the chief under my rule, but I was waiting to see what he would do of his own accord. The day when my cannon exploded he had been so ready to acknowledge my leadership that a look would have brought him cowering to my feet, but I had turned my back upon him and he had refrained from doing anything impulsive.
In order to provide entertainment for little Tike, this day of rest, I selected a slender section of bamboo rod and cut him a whistle. By placing a second piece inside of this and sliding it up and down, I had a primitive trombone, which begot a craze of delight among all the Links. I played this instrument about an hour during which time the fellows all came crawling up on all fours, to squat about in a circle where they remained, nodding, blinking and holding their heads on one side, with the greatest attention and pleasure.
I bethought me then of a drum and procuring a section of bamboo six inches or more in diameter, stretched a wetted fish-skin across the end and let it dry there. This thing produced a fine resonant tone that made the creatures jump with astonishment at first and dance with excitement later. In point of popularity this instrument eclipsed the whistle totally. The Links took to it as naturally as a cat takes to mice.
Having pleased little Tike and having rested myself, while providing a holiday of amusement for the tribe, I decided to go at my navigation again in the morning. Agreeable as some of these moments appear to have been, I was fretting constantly to be away from the unclean, semi-animal beings, and once more restored to my kind and to civilisation, where I could lie on a decent bed, eat a decent meal and listen to something besides barbarous language. So desperate did I frequently become to hear my native tongue, that I spouted every quotation and sang every song I could conjure from my memory. This performance was always attended by a demonstration of surprise and unrest on the part of all the Links who were close enough to hear.
The following morning was the cool, still forerunner of another sultry day. Fatty waddled behind me to the boat, where he whined again and started convulsively every time I bade him “come along,” but to master his fear of the lake sufficiently to enter the boat and trust himself away from the shore, was quite beyond his power. He wanted to go, but had he been thrust in by force, he would have scrambled wildly back to the bank, to run up and down and dance, like an unwilling dog who has been thrown in the water whether he would or no. I left him, sad and anxious, on the beach.
According to my previously formulated scheme, I directed the prow toward the left shore this morning, and rowed as before, about fifty yards out from the wall of foliage which marked the boundary of lake and jungle. In half an hour I passed the place where I had fought the battle with the alligator, while I was floating on the log. On this present occasion not a saurian could I see, but I knew the place where I was sure there were half a dozen.
The day was practically a repetition of the other, except that this western shore had a greater number of small streams, and none that were large, contributing to the body of the lake. I dipped into bays and inlets without number, many of which were of exceeding beauty. These were frequently so large that I travelled many miles without being more than three or four from camp, by air line. In the late afternoon, when I had worked perhaps two miles further away in actual distance—or about eight as I skirted the edge—I approached what appeared to be a deeper and narrower bay than any before discovered.
This arm of the lake presently curved about a point, which made me think it might perhaps be another tributary stream, or river, like the one in which I had passed a desperate fifteen minutes. I felt not entirely fond of such experiences and therefore regarded this place with suspicion. It was freer of insects than the other had been, although there were some I could have spared; while the alligator population was not numerously represented. There was the grass which I thought indicated flowing water, however, and the trees on the banks were like those of the other place which I dreaded.