Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  Being attached to a collar, with straps underneath the arms, these masks remained stationary, allowing the wearer to move his head in any direction, although he could not lower his chin very much. High leather shoes, lined with the same material, and pliable gauze gauntlets for the hands and arms, completed this remarkable attire. When Archie had slung his gun over his shoulder and stuck a brace of revolvers and a bowie into his belt, he certainly looked as curious as any individual that ever walked.

  I am quite sure that this description of Allerton’s outfit will lead the reader to think it exceedingly clumsy and unmanageable; and such, at first was my own opinion. But subsequent use proved the contrary. Walking around to test his “rigging,” as he called it, Archie declared he was not uncomfortable in the least. Everything was very light in weight, and the gauze garments were cooler than the clothing he had been accustomed to. Yucatan is a hot country, but not insufferably so, owing to the prevailing breeze that comes from the sea in either direction. Allerton had realized this in preparing his outfits.

  While the rest of us, using Archie as an example, proceeded to dress ourselves in a like manner, Allerton and Chaka were busily engaged in drawing especially prepared gas-jackets over the four chests we were to take with us. These coverings were then inflated with themlyne until the heavy boxes became so light that I could lift any one of them with one hand. No other gas known to science possesses so great buoyancy; a small volume of it overcame weight — i. e., the attraction of gravitation — to a wonderful degree. A single wire wheel with a broad, flat tire, was now attached to the front end of each chest, and two handles to the rear, converting the baggage into quaint looking wheelbarrows.

  This task completed, Paul looked at a heap of material on the deck and said, as if the thought had just occurred to him:

  “I see I have an extra outfit.” He turned to look at the interested group of sailors. “Will any one of you lads venture to join us?” he asked.

  With one accord they stepped forward and touched their caps.

  “Thank you, my friends,” said Allerton gratefully. “I’ll take Pedro, I think. He’s a native of this part of the world and therefore especially fit to stand the climate. Will you come, Pedro?”

  I thought his face showed a trace of embarrassment, perhaps chagrin, at being chosen; but he stepped up alertly enough and was assisted into his toggery.

  “Unfortunately,” remarked the lieutenant, “I was able to procure but eight electrites, so Pedro must depend wholly upon his firearms for protection.”

  Pedro grinned and nodded at hearing this. He was wholly ignorant of what an electrite might be. But he could handle a gun all right, he said, and a good keen knife was his pet weapon. With these by his side he felt perfectly safe.

  Uncle Naboth laughed immoderately as we lined up on the deck, while Speckles, the boatswain, who was now to act as mate to Captain Steele, threw a searchlight over the group. For it was quite dark by this time and we were again headed back toward the bay where we were to disembark.

  Nux and Bryonia, our stalwart blacks, seemed gigantic in their novel equipment. Ned was almost as huge a figure, while the rest of us, including Chaka, sized up to a fair and even imposing average. Pedro laughed at us too, and at himself, while the sailors were frankly amused at our appearance. I was myself somewhat influenced by the humor of the situation, for while I have undertaken many adventures during my brief life I was never so garbed before — nor was any other man, for that matter. We were the original gas-jacketed, electrite-armed, mosquito-and-dart-proof adventurers of the world!

  Allerton and Chaka were serious enough, however, to warn us that our fun was somewhat ill-timed. We were on the eve of a desperate and important undertaking.

  “Time to blacken up, my lads,” said father, who never neglected a sharp lookout. So every light aboard was quickly “doused” except the shielded one of the binnacle.

  The night seemed especially favorable, although Paul said that starlight would be as good for us as an overcast sky, provided the natives were at home and asleep. If by chance they were prowling around they would see us anyhow. But, for my part, I concluded it was just as well the white Seagull did not show too plainly from shore against the deep blue water. Those Mopanes had sharp eyes, and if they observed our approach from the forest there would promptly be something doing.

  Well, we crept into the bay quietly enough, after all, only one muffled engine doing duty, and approached the south bend of the shore as closely as we dared. The boats were already on the davits, the oars wrapped with canvas to prevent their creaking. Into one we loaded the wheelbarrow chests and then our little band took places in the others.

  I did not fail to press my father’s hand before I left the deck. Our affection is fervent and strong, thank God, and we understand one another perfectly. I knew the grim old fellow gave me a prayer in his heart and trusted a tender Providence to send his boy back to him in safety; but never a word of protest or caution did he utter. It might unnerve me, and was not needed.

  With scarcely a sound our keels ground on the beach. It required but a few moments to land and carry the chests to the shore, and then we shook hands, one and all, with the seamen and knew we had their best wishes for our success. They returned to the ship at once, and we adventurers quickly prepared to follow Chaka, who from this moment assumed the lead. Nux and Bryonia each trundled a chest, as did also Pedro and Ned. The things were so light that if we came to a rough place the men raised them bodily and carried them across.

  CHAPTER 8

  WE FIGHT A GOOD FIGHT

  In five minutes we were threading the underbrush, a difficult task because it grew so thickly; but fortunately it was not of great extent and a journey of fifteen minutes brought us to the edge of the forest.

  Chaka had marked his way by sighting a group of three giant mahoganies whose spreading tops formed a perfect triangle. He paused a moment just in the center of this group, pushed aside a bunch of tangled vines and with a grunt of satisfaction led us into a broad, well defined trail. This, we understood, was the route followed by the Itzaex when they invaded the territory of the Mopanes, in order to gather turtle, or to fish. Such invasions had always been bitterly contested, but Chaka’s people were never deterred from an undertaking by the prospects of a fight.

  It seems strange that after nine years this Indian boy should remember the place at all. Chaka was but fifteen when picked up by Allerton, and he certainly did not look his twenty-four years now. Civilized life had not taught him to forget his boyish adventures, and Allerton must have placed implicit confidence in the Maya, since all our plans and hopes were based upon his assertions and his knowledge of the country.

  Joe, Archie and I, who had often talked over these things, could not yet decide how far the lieutenant was justified in his unswerving trust. We liked Chaka and believed in him; but might he not be deceiving himself as well as us in many important details — especially those regarding the Tcha and the hidden city? It was all hearsay, after all, the tale of the old atkayma, who might easily have exaggerated his experiences.

  It was dark as Erebus in the forest. I can’t imagine how Chaka found his way so accurately. But he seldom hesitated, leading us forward at a steady gait and only pausing when the narrow way obliged us to use our best inventive genius in getting the chests between the trees. Once or twice we had to make a detour through wild and tangled underbrush and networks of vines, in order to squeeze the chests into the trail again, and all this delayed us considerably.

  After three hours of dogged progress we stopped to rest, and now Chaka flashed a dark lantern on the scene, believing we were so far from the Mopane villages that the light would not be seen. That helped some, as you may imagine, and it seemed to me, with my limited knowledge of such things, that we had covered at least a dozen miles of forest path when Allerton called a halt and said we would sleep until daylight.

  We dozed in our outfits, just as we were, not venturing to remove any part o
f our armor for fear of a surprise. Nor were we at all uncomfortable. I remember that I dropped down upon the leaves and moss just where I had stood, thoroughly tired by the long march. There was little fear of scorpions, serpents or other vermin, since we were so well protected, and I for one needed no lullaby to send me fast asleep.

  Chaka and Allerton kept watch by turns, on this occasion, and I heard Paul rebuking “my brother Chaka” for not calling him when he should have done so.

  I thought it must still be night when they wakened me, and in truth I was not at all ready to get up; but when I rose and rubbed my eyes I could dimly discern the trunks of the trees all about me, with small patches of gray sky showing here and there through the tops; so I realized it was time to tramp on again.

  Allerton unlocked a chest and gave us each a cup of hot coffee from thermos bottles, where it had been placed aboard ship. We ate some biscuits, too, and felt greatly refreshed.

  All had proceeded so nicely thus far that my original fears as to the dangerous nature of this undertaking had become lulled. It was cool and pleasant under the shade of the trees as we started on again, and the song birds were in full chorus.

  Suddenly Chaka, who led us, stopped short and held up his hand. Instantly Paul was beside him.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “A hunting party. Warriors. Many,” returned the Maya, his head bent forward, listening intently.

  “Are they Itzaex, my brother?”

  “Mopanes!” said Chaka.

  “Does it mean fight, then?”

  “It means fight, my brother.”

  Silently we had stood listening to this. Now we prepared for action.

  “Use your firearms first,” commanded Allerton; “and then, if necessary, the electrites. But remember we must save every charge in the batteries that we can.”

  We placed the four chests on end in a row, forming a scanty bulwark, and took station behind them. The party of Mopanes, evidently returning to their villages from a hunting expedition, were now heard noisily jabbering in the distance, the sounds gradually drawing nearer. It seemed they knew and used this trail as well as the Itzaex did, although Chaka had called it a “secret trail.” How many we were about to face we could not conjecture, but none of us showed or felt much fear. Indeed, I am inclined to think we one and all welcomed the chance to prove the qualities of our equipment. I was sorry to receive orders not to fire the electrite, being curious to know how effective these queer weapons would be; but I well knew Allerton was right in husbanding our supply of stored electricity. We might need every charge badly before we had played the game to the end.

  The trail wound irregularly here and there through the dense forest, but for some seventy yards ahead it came straight toward us, broader and more open than in most places, which was all to our disadvantage. This was offset by the fact that the natives had no suspicion an enemy was in their path. They were between the Itzaex and their own people, and imagined they had nothing to fear. Not even a scout had been sent ahead. They rounded the curve in a dense mass, chattering and laughing until they caught sight of us standing motionless in the trail. Then their astonishment was genuine enough.

  I think, had they found us garbed in the same manner as all white men who had visited their coast had been, that there might have been chance for a parley; but our appearance was so strange that they did not hesitate a moment about attacking us. The first of the band, which numbered about a hundred warriors, had scarcely halted when their wicked darts began to fly in our direction.

  These darts, the most dangerous weapons employed by the Maya tribes, are slim strips of a tough vine, cut and hardened in the sun until they become nearly as hard as steel. One end is sharpened and coated with a deadly vegetable poison; the other has a flat piece of bark inserted in a notch to give it “wings.” The darts are carried in a bark sheath and are hurled with amazing swiftness and accuracy. The Maya tribes also use bows and arrows, as well as long spears with heads of sharpened stone or iron. But these latter weapons are most serviceable in hunting; in a fight the Mayas depend largely upon the darts, a prick from one of the points sending its poison coursing through the veins of the victim, who expires in agony in a few minutes.

  It may be the distance was in our favor; anyway the darts rattled against our armor harmlessly enough. And we did not give the enemy time to come nearer, just then. Taking careful aim we returned a volley from our rifles which, backed by the thick mass of howling Indians, did terrible execution. Nearly a score fell where they stood and the others took to instant flight.

  I felt much elated by our success until I noticed Chaka shaking his head as if greatly annoyed. There was little opportunity to inquire the reason, for in a surprisingly brief space of time a dart struck full upon my headgear, and so sharp was the slender point that it stuck in the meshes and hung there. Another and another dart followed, from this or that side and even from behind us. The cunning Mopanes had leaped into the thicket and surrounded us, from their concealment being enabled to attack us with impunity. Arrows also flew, striking us sharp blows. A spear knocked Pedro clean off his feet, but failed to wound him, as it struck against his impervious gas-jacket.

  “We must get out of this!” exclaimed Allerton. “It’s a regular trap.”

  “Come!” cried Chaka.

  We followed his lead. The blacks, Ned and Pedro wheeled the chests while we others walked beside them and took a shot at every head that showed in the jungle.

  It proved somewhat revolting to climb over the dead and dying that cluttered the way just ahead. One wounded Mopane struck at my leg with a knife and tried to grab me; but I clubbed him over the head with my rifle and he fell back and lay still.

  There seemed no escape for us, as the rascals were able to follow through the brushwood almost as fast as we covered the trail; but Chaka moved rapidly on, increasing his pace until we were all on a jog-trot, and at last we understood his reason.

  The path opened abruptly into a vast clearing, nearly a quarter of a mile in extent. It had been created originally by a forest fire, as the charred trunks of trees testified. Near the center was a small pool of stagnant water.

  We ran to the edge of this pool and, facing around once more, prepared to defend ourselves. If the natives remained in the forest their weapons were comparatively harmless; if they cared to “rush” our position we had decidedly the best of it.

  They were in no hurry to decide, it seemed. After hurling a few darts and shooting a few arrows they ceased activities for a full hour, during which time we sat on the chests and got our breath back so we could discuss the situation.

  “How far are we, from Itzlan?” inquired Allerton.

  Chaka considered.

  “About two hours’ journey, Brother Paul,” he replied.

  “Two hours from the boundaries, I suppose,” said Paul. “And how far from the City of Itza?”

  “Two days, my brother.”

  That was not very encouraging.

  “It seems to me,” said Archie, “a good plan would be to send Chaka on to his people as a scout. He could sneak through the enemy all right. And then he could bring his people to our rescue.”

  “No,” replied Allerton, “I cannot afford to risk Chaka on such a mission. If we lose him, we lose everything. I am quite sure the Mopanes cannot seriously injure us. We simply must devote the necessary time to fighting them off, and then continue our journey.”

  CHAPTER 9

  WE FIND OURSELVES OUTNUMBERED

  The space or clearing in which we had sought refuge was covered thickly with bushes averaging from two to three feet in height. They were green with a thick-leaved foliage, and as I sat idly looking at them it occurred to me they were very pretty in such a place and relieved the dismal appearance of the charred stumps. Presently I decided, as the sun was now beating down upon our heads, to crawl underneath the nearest clump of bushes and seek coolness in their shade. This I proceeded to do, dropping on hands and knees and creepi
ng beneath the leafy covering while my friends eyed me curiously.

  Next moment I experienced one of the greatest surprises of my life. I was not quite concealed by the network of bushes when my head bumped suddenly against something hard, and lifting my encased face with some difficulty I found a Mopane Indian lying flat upon his belly, his eyes not a yard away — glaring viciously into mine. I think he must have been fully as much astonished as I was.

  In such emergencies I have a bad habit of acting first and considering afterward; so before I realized what I was doing I had pulled a revolver and sent a bullet into the fellow’s skull. He gave a yell that was startling and sprang full upon his feet before he toppled over dead.

  His cry was echoed from fifty throats. From every part of the bush arose Mopanes who rushed at us with one accord. Some of them had crawled pretty near. As I sat up I faced one at arm’s length and let go another shot from the revolver I held.

  Meantime my comrades quickly recovered from the momentary paralysis caused by the suddenness of the assault and stood their ground bravely. I was very proud of their coolness. Nux and Bryonia, Ned, Archie and Joe were all splendid fighters and even Mexican Pedro seemed void of fear as he plugged shot after shot at his assailants. Altogether, the affray was too hot for the Mopanes and they soon scampered back to the woods for shelter. As they went we picked off as many of them as we could, for the more we rendered hors de combat the better chance we had to escape.

  They were not likely to repeat this attempt again. Another long wait followed.

  “I hate to lose so much ammunition on the fools,” grumbled Allerton. “Be shy, my lads, of wasting a single shot; our work has hardly begun yet.”

  This stealthy attack of the natives gave Chaka an idea, however. After consulting with his “Brother Paul” he hid behind the chests and deliberately began divesting himself of all the trappings he had until now worn. When I glanced at him, presently, there sat our Maya on the ground, arrayed only in his copper colored skin and a white loin cloth. In the folds of the latter he concealed a knife and a small revolver. Then, lying flat, he wriggled himself into the bushes and was soon lost to view.