“Won’t any other gas do?” inquired Archie.
“Not so well. And no other gas can be procured so quickly and easily as themlyne.”
“Of course, when the stuff is gone the jackets are useless,” suggested Joe.
“Yes; but we do not expect to use much gas except in case of emergency. At such times we are sure to find the jackets very useful. There is an appliance I myself have invented to attach to the fully inflated garments, which will render them equal to aeroplanes, and much more reliable and safe,” continued Allerton.
He motioned to Chaka, who took from the chest two objects that resembled closed Japanese fans, which the native first buckled to either side of his gas-jacket and then thrust his arms through a series of catgut loops. Allerton had to assist him in this, as the bulky jacket kept Chaka from using his hands to good advantage. When all was ready, the Maya raised his arms and showed himself possessed of wings. As his arms hung down by his sides the wings remained closed; as he raised them the fans unfolded. They were made of a material similar to that of the jacket.
“We have not had much opportunity to experiment with these wings,” admitted the lieutenant. “They may prove awkward, at first, and perhaps unaided would not carry one far into the air. But when one has ascended to an altitude by means of the inflated jacket the wings should enable him to direct his course, and to soar with the wind, or tack as a ship does, for long distances.”
“I can’t see much practical use in all these fixin’s,” remarked Uncle Naboth. “Seems to me you ain’t goin’ to Yucatan to do circus acts or to knock out the Wright brothers, but jest to fight a lot o’ Injuns an’ grab some gold an’ things. Could you carry much of a load through the air in them jackets?”
“I fear not,” admitted Allerton, gravely. “As I before stated, one of my ideas is to impress the natives with the wonders of our modern civilization.”
“Well, it orter do that, all right. It’s impressed me,” said Uncle Naboth.
CHAPTER 6
WE SEE AN ASTONISHING THING
“The most wonderful thing I have to show you,” said Lieutenant Allerton, as Chaka divested himself of the gas-jacket and, after folding and putting it away, prepared to open another chest, “is that which I owe entirely to the genius of my inventive uncle, and his friendly interest in me. Indeed, I may say with truth that you are the first persons in all the world, save the President of the United States, my uncle and myself and Chaka, who have ever been initiated into the mysteries of the marvelous electrite. That is not its correct scientific name, but that is what I shall call it. Some day I am sure this invention will revolutionize and abolish warfare, securing peace to all the nations of the earth. It is so tremendous in its possibilities that when Uncle Simeon finally perfected it, after years of experimenting, he was afraid to give it to the public. He took the President into his confidence, with the result that they have decided to wait and watch conditions before deciding what to do with the electrite. But my uncle has been anxious to test the contrivance in actual use, and at my earliest entreaty permitted me to have eight of them made, to carry with me on my expedition. I may say that I rely more upon the possession of these electrites than upon any other portion of my equipment to carry us through to success.”
In the chest which Chaka now opened we saw a number of carefully wrapped parcels. One of these the lieutenant picked up and opened on the cabin table. There was a layer of stout paper, a wooden box, a covering of felt, one of chamois, then white tissue — and finally Allerton produced a nickel plated tube fifteen inches long and curved at one end like the handle of a revolver. From this handle dangled two insulated electric wires.
We were much interested in this proceeding, but as yet unable to understand what the tube was for. From a square box Allerton next withdrew a belt that at first glance resembled a cartridge-belt, except that it was broader and twice as thick. All around the outer surface was a row of curious electric tubes, joined irregularly together.
“This,” said the exhibitor, proceeding to strap the belt around his waist, “is the most condensed form of the famous Simeon Wells storage battery.” He then attached the wires of the tube to the belt and slipped the electrite into a loop, or holster, at his right side. “I am now ready,” continued Allerton, “to meet any savage beast or any foe that dares face me, for I am armed with the most powerful weapon the world of science has ever produced. If attacked I draw the electrite,” suiting the action to the word, “point it at my enemy, and press this button on the tube with my thumb. That will release a charge of electricity sufficient to stun an elephant at a hundred yards’ distance.”
We looked at him in wonder, and many exclamations, varied according to the temperament of the members of our group, greeted his assertion.
“How many times will it shoot?” asked Archie.
“Forty-five times. That will exhaust the power of the belt,” replied Allerton.
“And then?” said Captain Steele.
“Then we must use another belt, sir. I have six belts for each electrite, and eight electrites.”
“Have you ever tested it?” I asked, a little bewildered as I began to comprehend the marvel of the thing.
“No; not yet. But Professor Wells, the inventor, has fully tested its power, first on dogs and small animals, then on a horse, and finally upon his janitor, who agreed to submit to the ordeal.”
“You don’t mean to say he murdered the man!” cried Uncle Naboth, horrified.
“Not at all, sir. The most astonishing thing about the electrite is that it doesn’t kill — it stuns. A charge from it will knock a man over instantly, rendering him unconscious and apparently lifeless. From two to three hours later, depending upon his physical condition and vitality, he will regain consciousness and be little the worse for his experience save perhaps for a headache. This is why I told you the electrite is destined to abolish war and conserve peace. Nothing can stand against it. Its use will enable an army to conquer and yet avoid bloodshed. If electrites were used by two opposing forces no wails of widows and orphans would follow in the wake of a battle to cast their gloom over the victors.”
We sat spellbound and in silence for a time, thoughtfully considering these things. Gradually I, for my part, began to appreciate the marvel of this great invention.
“I’d like to test it,” said Joe, calmly. “Will you try it on me, Lieutenant?”
“You are too valuable a person to experiment upon,” said he; “but in a way Chaka and I have tested each of our eight tubes, using an extra storage belt which I brought along for that purpose. We secured permission to hunt, one day, on the shore of Magdalena Bay, and knocked over rabbits, gulls and a couple of coyotes with ease. We could not wait to see if they recovered, but I have Uncle Simeon’s assurance that, in the case of a man, recovery is certain unless he has some bad heart trouble or other physical defect. Uncle’s janitor, upon whom he experimented — a brawny Irishman — was upon his feet again in a little more than two hours.”
“It’s surely a queer weapon,” remarked Uncle Naboth. “But when it comes to fighting natives in Yucatan I guess I’d prefer a good rifle. What’s the use of knockin’ an enemy over if you don’t put him out o’ business for good an’ all?”
“No one likes to kill a human being when it can be avoided,” I answered, rather indignantly. “If we are opposed by natives and can render them unconscious for two hours, it’s just as good for our purpose as killing the poor devils.”
“My idea, exactly, Sam,” approved Allerton. “But unfortunately we cannot use our electrite at will, being limited in our number of battery charges. So we must carry guns and revolvers, too, and save these finer weapons for emergencies.”
He then proceeded to show us other curious things contained in the chests, some of which you will hear of during the progress of my story. Three of the big boxes were completely filled with mechanical toys and novelties, aluminum utensils, brass buttons, metal combs, brushes of various sorts,
bales of gorgeous colored silks and china ornaments. Allerton admitted that these things had cost him considerable money, practically exhausting the combined resources of his eccentric but inspired uncle and himself, as well as Chaka’s savings.
“If we do not succeed,” said he, quietly enough, “I shall be a bankrupt. But if my plans carry, as I hope they will, no sacrifice is too great to redeem the old homestead and provide for the future of those dear, dependent women.”
“Succeed!” cried Archie; “of course we’ll succeed. With such an outfit as that there’s no chance at all of failure.”
No one replied to this enthusiastic speech. We were busy with our thoughts. There was a long and difficult journey before us, fraught with desperate adventures, before any one might say with assurance that success lay within our grasp.
But we considered it worth the attempt, nevertheless.
CHAPTER 7
WE OUTWIT THE ENEMY
In the gray of the morning I stood with my friends beside the rail, peering anxiously at a dim black line that marked the Yucatan coast. In order to avoid the islands and settled coast districts of the north-east we had approached Yucatan by way of the Mosquito Coast and British Honduras, expecting to sight the country in its wildest and most barbarous district.
Chaka, who had resided as a boy in the interior but had made several trips to the sea, was uncertain whether he would recognize the Bay of Mopa from the water or not. It was from the bay I have mentioned, which lay in the hostile Mopane territory, that the trail led into the country of the Itzaex — the only trail Chaka knew of and therefore the trail we must follow.
Although waging a fierce warfare with neighboring tribes the Mopanes were accustomed to deal arbitrarily with ships and expeditions from Honduras which came to trade for the enormous green turtles that abounded on their coast. This fact we relied upon to shield us from immediate hostilities.
As the sun slowly rose and dissolved the gray shades from the morning sky we found ourselves quite near to a wild but very attractive shore. The sandy beach was shelving and touched the sea at a level. Back of the beach began the scrub — low bushes somewhat resembling our sagebrush but set closer together. Beyond the scrub rose the great forests of logwood and mahogany, covering the land as far as the eye could reach.
Chaka told us the villages of the Mopanes were all within the forest’s edge, but by eight o’clock, when we came close enough to view the scene distinctly, we were enabled to see statuesque bronze figures dotting the shore here and there. Doubtless these were sentinels, set to watch us and see where we landed.
“Not here!” exclaimed the Maya, shaking his head.
We swung around and steamed slowly north, keeping sharp watch for hidden shoals and rocks, as no map in my father’s collection was able to guide a mariner in these practically unknown waters. Small bays and indentations were numerous, and each of these Chaka scanned with thoughtful care. Once, indeed, he decided he had found the right place, and we ventured into a pretty bay and lay to while our guide carefully considered the landmarks. But the native, although slow to form conclusions, had a positive nature and was not to be deceived by minor appearances.
“Not here, Cap’n Steele,” he said again, and we stood out and continued on our way, hugging the coast as closely as we dared in order to give Chaka a better view.
We passed the whole day in this tedious search and it was almost evening when the Maya gave a cry of delight and raised his arms to indicate that he had sighted the right haven. It was more a bight than a bay, and my father looked grave at the huge rocks scattered a full quarter of a mile from the shore line.
Natives watched us here, as everywhere, and when we lay to a score of dugouts were pushed into the water and filled with Indians who soon swarmed along our side. Chaka now kept out of their sight, fearing to be recognized, and Allerton called to one lot of natives, which showed an impudent disposition to board us, to keep off or take the consequences. They were astonished to hear a white man speak the Maya tongue and declared they wanted to come aboard to “trade.” Allerton replied that we had nothing to trade and would proceed at once on our way north.
This did not seem to satisfy them. They were all copper-colored, athletic fellows, quick and nervous in action and with jet-black eyes which glinted fiercely. They seemed utterly unafraid of us and one boat load of four made a sudden dash up our side, leaping to seize a rope ladder we had left swaying from the bulwarks and climbing it with the agility of cats.
Ned Britton happened to be watching that spot and the burly mate grasped the first native by an arm, swung him clear of the side, and then hurled him bodily at the others following. All four went down with a rush, disappearing below the surface of the placid water, while their comrades screamed an angry defiance and sent a volley of small slender darts — which reminded me of arrows — aimed at every head showing above the side. We had no trouble in dodging them, but Allerton warned us they were poisoned and we did not relish such an attack.
Captain Steele had already rung to go ahead and we gathered way and moved from our dangerous position as quickly as possible. The natives Ned had dislodged scrambled into their boat again, but the fellow he had seized seemed to have a broken arm and howled lustily as his comrades dragged him aboard.
The Mopanes showed no disposition to follow us and as we gained the open sea we observed them paddling back to the shore.
“A pretty reception, I must say!” growled Archie in disgust. “So that’s the sort of vermin we’re supposed to tackle, is it?”
“I imagine this is only a sample of their peculiarities,” mused Joe. “Mopanes bad Indians,” admitted Chaka, who had now come on deck again.
“Well, I suppose we must take them as we find them,” I rejoined, with a sigh. “The trouble seems to be that no one has taken pains to civilize them.”
“What’s our plan now, sir?” asked Ned, turning to Allerton.
“We’ll stand out until darkness comes on, and then return to the bay with all lights out and disembark as silently as possible,” was the answer. “We rely on the usual native custom of ‘sleeping nights and fighting days’ to shield us from observation. We have now created the impression that we have sailed away for good, and as ships are a rarity in this latitude the Mopanes will all retire to their villages back in the forest and go to bed. That will give us a chance to land, make our preparations and get a good start on the secret trail leading to the Itzaex country.”
“Meantime, what’s to become of the ship?” asked Ned.
“Captain Steele and his men will stand on and off the coast until our return. We have arranged a series of signals so that he will know when we approach, and come in to meet us. His task will be a tedious one, for if all goes well it will take us at least two or three weeks to make our journey and accomplish our purpose. Still, we may be driven back at once, and need succor any day, especially if Chaka’s people refuse to recognize his authority and show us hostilities.”
“In that case,” said I, “the adventure will become hopeless, will it not?”
Allerton looked sober and did not reply. Chaka was quite undisturbed by the suggestion of disloyalty on the part of his tribesmen and said, “If we can fight Mopanes, we also can fight Itzaex.”
“But the chests!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering the baggage. “What is to become of them? One contains our supplies, you know, and I imagine all are quite necessary to us. Yet how will nine people be able to lug seven heavy chests through a forest trail, beset with dangers?”
“Our outfits,” explained Allerton, “are contained in three of the chests, so when we have emptied those of their contents they may be left behind. The other four will be provided with jackets and wheels. One man is sufficient to propel each one of them.”
I admit I looked and felt puzzled at this statement.
“And now,” continued our leader, “it is time for us to begin our preparations, while there is a scrap of daylight. We may also light our decks f
or a time, but on nearing shore we shall be black as night.”
The crew of the Seagull, having been already apprised of our adventure and scenting the prize money promised them, were every one eager to be of assistance. The chests were brought on deck and three of them opened.
“We must now shed for a time all European customs and clothing,” announced Paul. “From this moment we assume the outfits I have provided for the occasion.”
While the sailors looked on curiously he asked Archie to strip and dress for his part. The boy quickly shed his apparel, even to his underclothes, for Allerton gave him first of all a union-suit “mosquito proof,” and — as we later found — fairly proof against the poisoned darts of the natives. Knickerbockers and gaiters of a curious woven gauze material — pliable metal, in fact — came next, and the gas-jacket covered all the rest of his body save the head.
“The jacket is also an armor,” observed Allerton; “and, while it must be worn all the time, night and day, it need not be inflated until necessary to acquire lightness. The gas tank generator weighs but six ounces and will be worn with the jacket, so it may be ready in any emergency. It is the same with the eight electrites, which we eight adventurers will keep constantly at our sides. The extra belts must, of course, remain in one of the chests until needed, as will the extra supply of themlyne.”
He then supplied Archie with a head-mask of curious design. The top was like a pith helmet, very light and the more comfortable because it did not rest upon the head but upon a globe of woven wire, in which the boy’s entire head was encased.
This material, as transparent as a fine gauze screen, was so strong that when Allerton tested it by jumping on it with both feet it scarcely bent at all.
“This is a protection from gnats and mosquitoes, darts and arrows, and all other venomous things,” said Paul. “I think we shall find them quite comfortable when we get used to them.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 702