CHAPTER XVI

THE BATTLE IN THE JUNGLE

The thing that had happened to end the feast of the Parintintins so abruptly was that a scout, of which each party always kept numbers on its outskirts, had rushed into their midst with news of a startling character. He had discovered the approach of a war party of another tribe which doubtless had been dogging their steps all day long and were now forming for the attack.

Warfare among the tribes of the Amazon is as unceasing as it is merciless. Each, in attempts to extend the boundaries of its territory or hunting-grounds, looks with suspicion and resentment upon its neighbors and by every means known to it tries to exterminate, or at least reduce in numbers the populace around it, thereby increasing its own measure of safety as well as its food supply.

It may, or it may not have been fortunate for the two cowering in the clump of thorny bamboo that the attack came when it did, for in the intense excitement that prevailed those of the savages who had time, flew to their arms and gathered them up in one swoop; so the interchange was not noticed. Then the dusky forms darted into the darkness that surrounded the firelight like an impenetrable wall.

But before the last one had disappeared from view there burst upon the silent night a chorus of cries and screams accompanied by the deep beats of drums; and at the same instant a deluge of arrows hissed and whined through the air in pursuit of the fleeing figures.

The arrows rattled about the clump of bamboo in which the two men were hiding. Soon after, a line of howling savages charged out of the darkness, flitted through the lighted area and disappeared again in the gloom on the other side of the fire.

David drew his revolver and held it ready for action, for the first time since Miguel had found him. He had saved the few precious cartridges he possessed for the time when it might be necessary to defend their lives and that time, he thought, had arrived. But the swarm of Indians swept past them all unaware of their presence. How the savages could see in the darkness was beyond his ability to explain; but see they did, or otherwise they soon should have killed themselves by colliding with the trees and many other obstructions in the forest.

The pursuit continued far beyond, as was evidenced by the shouts that grew constantly fainter and then died in the distance. The Parintintins had been routed completely and many of them had probably perished in the unexpected assault; the survivors, doubtless, were scattered hopelessly and were either in hiding or fleeing for their lives.

“We’d better get away from here,” David whispered, “but they went right in the direction we want to go.”

“Don’t be in too big a hurry,” Miguel admonished him. “The forest is full of Indians. I know them. There are some of them right around us here. We can’t leave until we’re sure all have gone.”

The wisdom of his words was demonstrated a moment later, when a shadowy form flitted out of the night and made for one of the clusters of arrows that had been deserted when the charge came. He had hardly reached the spot when there came the snarl of an arrow, followed by a dull thud, and the Indian pitched headlong to the ground.

It was as Miguel had said. Unseen eyes were watching the fire in anticipation of the return of some of the routed savages for their effects. But greatly to the relief of the onlookers, no others came.

After an hour’s nerve-racking silence the crackling of twigs told of the return of the victorious party and presently the vanguard, in small groups, came into view. They were talking and gesticulating wildly; then half a dozen others who had acted as sentinels around the fire joined them. Soon more came until there must have been over a hundred.

They piled wood on the fire until they had a blaze roaring toward the tree tops, while a train of sparks, like miniature comets, soared high above the forest. That served as a signal to announce victory, and after a short time a group of women and children appeared out of the jungle and joined the warriors. The women carried baskets on their backs; they were filled with calabashes, and packages wrapped in green leaves.

When all had arrived the celebration of the victory began. The remainder of the tapir was placed in the fire to roast; bundles were unwrapped, revealing quantities of fish, Brazil nuts, cassava bread and corn.

The women took full charge of preparing the food, the men spending the time in animated conversation and argument.

When the meat was roasted they all sat around the fire and ate. Water had been brought in some of the calabashes from which they frequently took long drinks.

The two watchers began to think that the eating would last all night when one of the Indians sprang to his feet and began to gesticulate with his arms. He went through the performance of pursuing and slaying an enemy in such a graphic way that they could not fail to understand his meaning. When he finished another jumped up and went through a similar pantomime; and after him, another and then another until each of the warriors had demonstrated just how he had dealt with at least one Parintintin.

David felt that if the Indians were telling the truth it had gone hard indeed with the pursued; but he suspected that most of the versions were given merely for the dramatic effect, because the victors outnumbered the vanquished two to one.

When the last speaker had finished the men started a dance around the fire, while the women and children withdrew into the background to watch. Some of the dancers picked up empty calabashes and beat them like drums. All of them shouted at the top of their voices as they leaped about the blaze, the ruddy light reflected in flickering patches on their bare, brown bodies.

Day was breaking when the assemblage gradually broke up into small groups that lay down on the ground to sleep. Only two of the men remained awake near the now rapidly dying fire, apparently for the purpose of warning the sleepers if there should be a surprise attack.

David and Miguel were in an unenviable predicament. Their limbs ached from long remaining in their cramped quarters in the bamboo clump. They could not move about and they dared not go to sleep. The faintest rustling noise, the slightest movement might arouse the Indians and cause an investigation. And they knew what discovery would mean.

It was noon when the first of the sleepers began to stir and within a few minutes the whole party was moving about. Their actions were now in great contrast to those of the early morning. They seemed in a hurry to get away.

The men collected their bows and arrows and the women packed the remnants of food and the calabashes into their baskets. Then the whole party vanished in the forest, heading in the direction in which the Parintintins had fled.

“I thought they were going to stay forever.” David sighed with relief. “Now I can stretch my legs. I’m asleep all over, except my head.”

“Roll over a few times,” Miguel advised, “and you’ll feel better.”

They both did this for a few moments and then crawled out into the open. Once on their feet, they lost no time in leaving the locality.

After walking rapidly for an hour, Miguel, who was in the lead, stopped suddenly.

“Listen,” he said, raising one hand.

David stopped and listened intently.

“I hear a faint noise, like a breeze in the tree-tops,” he said.

“Yes. That’s it. But it’s not wind, it’s water.”

“Yes, it is water. I can hear it better now. It must be a big river.”

“With a high fall in it. Only a great waterfall could make such a noise.”

“What will we do?” David asked.

“Go to it. It’s just what we want. We’ll make a raft and drift down with the current.” Miguel’s dark face lighted up with enthusiasm. “It will be easier than having to walk.”

“First, let’s eat. I’m almost starved,” David suggested.

“Me, too. But I’m afraid to start a fire. Better wait until we get to the river,” Miguel said apprehensively. “There can’t be too much distance between the Indians and us to suit me.”

They tramped on. David was now trailbreaker. They took turns at this for the vegetation was growing heavier constantly and the leader had to use his knife frequently to cut through the sprouts and creepers that disputed their way.

It was after cutting a path through one of the thickets that David caught sight of some living creature disappearing among the dense growth. He did not know what it was, for the glimpse had been a fleeting one, so he stopped to tell Miguel, but before he had finished the sentence an arrow tore its way through the leaves a few inches on one side of them.

They needed no further proof to tell them that the vanishing form had been that of an Indian. Dashing back over their trail they fled in a wide detour of the spot and then advanced more cautiously. There was no question but that the savage would take up the pursuit. And a long, quavering note like that of a forest dove that reached their ears was a signal to other Indians who must be in the neighborhood.

A second call, low and plaintive, came in answer to the first. It was directly in front of them. They dropped into the shadow between two buttressed roots of a giant tree just in time to see two nude savages appear and make their way stealthily toward the spot from which the first one had signalled.

“The forest is full of Indians,” Miguel whispered when they had disappeared. “They are calling one another for a discussion. Then they will try to catch us.”

“Let’s go, then. The bigger the start we have the harder it will be for them to find us,” David panted. “If we stay here they’re sure to catch us.”

“The river! The river!” Miguel whispered. “We must get to the river. Come on.”

They darted away at a rapid pace, making toward the roaring sound that was rapidly growing louder. The going was terrible. Instead of stopping to use the knife in clearing a path as before, they crashed through the dense clumps of dwarf bamboo, matted ferns and thick sprouts. The sharp thorns covering some of the growths slashed their clothing into ribbons and tore into their flesh; and more than once they fell to the ground when creepers, like steel wires, encircled their feet and tripped them.

The cooing voices of the Indians were not far behind them. Occasionally they heard the breaking of branches and the swishing of the leaves where the pursuing savages fought their way through the jungle. It was fortunate that the vegetation was so dense that they could not be seen and thus afford easy targets for the arrows of the forest men.

“It can’t be far now,” Miguel said encouragingly. The roar of the water had become so loud that he was compelled to shout to make himself heard.

David was too breathless from his exertions to talk, so he nodded his head in assent. They could not hear their pursuers now, but there was no doubt about their being hot on the trail, which they would not leave until the fugitives had been overtaken.

At last the two fought their way through the last living wall of green and stood on the brink of the river. They were a sorry sight, bleeding from numerous cuts and bruises, their clothing in shreds, and on the point of exhaustion.

Before them lay a deep gorge through which the river, of considerable size, rushed over a bed littered with huge boulders. There was no crossing the stream; even a boat would have been short-lived in the maelstrom that hissed and boiled a hundred feet below them.

They took in the situation at a glance, and it seemed as if they were in a worse dilemma than before. The Indians were approaching on one side, cutting off retreat, and the river prevented further flight in that direction.

There was no time to ponder the situation. Miguel peered over the embankment. Then, beckoning to David to follow, he slid over the edge, held to it for a moment and let go.

David looked down just in time to see his companion stop against a flat rock twenty feet below and in a moment he had landed by his side. Then followed a second drop into a clump of bushes; it was higher than the first but the springy boughs broke the force of the fall.

The remainder of the descent was easier. There was a slant to the wall down which they slid to the rocks on the very edge of the water.

A hasty survey of the situation showed that the sides of the gorge up-stream were the more precipitous; and the pathway on the margin of the seething flood was safer, so they started in that direction, clambering over the slippery boulders where a misstep meant a plunge into the water below. What they sought was a place where it would be impossible to be seen from above, and when this had been attained they stopped to rest.

Ahead of them was the marvellous spectacle of a cataract dashing over a series of steplike rocks and ending in a sheer fall ten feet or more in height.

The prospect was discouraging in spite of momentary safety. If they should turn downstream they would become easy marks for the Indians, who must have reached the brink of the gorge by that time; up-stream was the wall of roaring water, but toward it they went.

“Come,” David shouted to Miguel, who was close at his heels. “I want to see the falls and--and--what’s under them.”

Miguel did not understand the meaning of the words but when they were abreast of the curtain of water he saw the facts at a glance.

The falling body of crystal liquid did not, of course, hug closely the stone wall over which it rushed. The momentum of the water was so great that it carried it clear of the ledge a distance of several feet. It was just as David had expected, provided----

He crawled close to the edge of the fall and then gave a shout that Miguel heard even above the rumble that was all but deafening.

At the base of any cataract one may find either of two things: a deep pool of whirling water or a mass of shattered rock fragments that has broken off the ledge above and lodged against the base of the wall. The latter is what David hoped to find and it is what he found.

A ridge of splintered rock stretched from the edge of the water into the mist so far under the fall as they could see. If it continued, unbroken, to the other side, it would afford a means of crossing the stream.

David ventured gingerly onto the jagged pathway. The stones were cold and wet and he had to crawl on hands and knees as there was not headroom to stand. So soon as he was well under way Miguel followed.

It was a terrifying experience, justified only by a desperate situation. The sheet of clear water, streaked with green, shot over the crouching men with a thunderous roar, intensified by the cavity in which they found themselves. A cold mist saturated their ragged clothing and chilled them through; also, the vapor soon shut off their view in the direction from which they had come, enveloping them in a clammy fog that shut out the daylight. Swallows left their nests that had been plastered against the face of the wall and dashed away in the gloom with frightened twitters. Below, the water raged and boiled and tongues crested with foam leaped angrily toward the men as if trying to drag them into the cauldron below.

Once David faltered; it seemed he could go no farther. But there was Miguel in back of him. He could not retreat and in so doing display a lack of courage before his companion. Hope for them lay in one direction only and that was straight ahead, even if at the same time it seemed to promise certain disaster.

After what seemed like ages the gray twilight in front of them brightened and a strong wind fanned the face of the foremost man. The end of the perilous journey was in sight. And soon they had emerged from under the river and stood on the rocks that flanked the side, drenched, cold and shivering.

“Thank heaven, we got through that all right,” David said between chattering teeth. “Do you think the Indians will follow?”

“They would if they knew where we went. We have to keep out of sight,” Miguel replied. “But they wouldn’t come under the fall; they would go downstream and cross.”

The two were compelled to remain in their present position until darkness came, screened from view of those on the other side by the clouds of mist that rose from the fall. They had an occasional glimpse, however, of the high bluff across the stream; it was dotted with the nude, brown forms of the savages, boldly outlined against the deep green vegetation.

They selected a route that appeared climbable and when darkness had fallen, clambered to the top. From this position directly across the gorge they saw waving, flickering lights like huge fireflies weaving in and out among the trees far up and down the river; the Indians had lighted torches. They were mystified by the disappearance of the white men. But the search was still on and there was not the slightest indication that they had any intention of abandoning it.

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