“I want to be killed first, Hugh, if it comes to that. If you are merciful, you will kill me yourself when you see that it is their intention to do so,” she said earnestly.
“Pooh, there’s no danger,” he said, and went back to his work, impressed by her manner more than he cared to admit. With her chin in her hands she resignedly watched him complete her bed of tiger skins.
“We have desecrated the temple by disturbing the rugs,” she said at length.
“I’ll have ’em make some hammocks for us tomorrow and we’ll hang ’em in each end of the temple. And we’ll also have this place divided into two or three apartments, say two sleeping rooms and a parlor, perhaps a kitchen. If necessary, an addition can be stuck on just back of where the idol stands. There’ll be great doings around here when Yankee progress takes hold.”
“You surely do not mean to ruin their temple! They will be up in arms, Hugh.”
“Well, they’ll have to endure a great many things if they expect to support such luxuries as we are. If those fellows don’t quit falling down and bumping their faces on the ground, I’m going to have a lot of pads made for them to wear when they think there is danger of meeting us. They’ll wear their faces out.” It did him good to hear her laugh. “Well, your bed is ready, my Lady.”
“I am dying for a drink of water. Do you know how long it has been since we touched food and drink?”
“All day! I never thought of it until this minute. I am half famished myself,” he cried in dismay. Then he rushed to the door and shouted to some natives who were standing near by eyeing the crude building inquisitively by the light of a single torch. “Hey! you fellows!”
At the sight of his white figure and the sound of his voice, torch and all fell to the ground.
“Get up, you blamed fools,” called the white man, walking toward them in exasperation. They arose tremblingly as he drew near, and he managed by signs to make them understand that he wanted food and drink. Away they dashed, and he re-entered the temple. Lady Tennys was laughing.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked in surprise.
“It was so funny to hear you call them fools.”
“I hope they understood me. Anyhow, they’ve gone for the fatted cocoanut or something equally as oriental.”
In less time than seemed possible the happy messengers arrived at the door with food enough for a dozen hungry people. The giant chief followed his subjects, and it was through his hands that Hugh received the welcome food. The white people were gratified to find in the assortment rich bananas and oranges, raw meat, peculiar shell fish, berries and vegetables resembling the tomato. At first the natives looked a little dismayed over the disordered condition of the temple, but no sign of resentment appeared, much to the relief of Lady Tennys. The luscious offerings were placed on one of the stone blocks as fast as they were handed to Ridgeway, the natives looking on in feeble consternation.
The chief was the only one to enter the temple, and he started to prostrate himself before the stone idol. He appeared to be at a loss as to what course he should pursue. Hugh promptly relieved him. Shaking his head vigorously, he pointed to the stone image, signifying that there were to be no more salutations bestowed upon it, all homage being due to himself and the lady. The fickle pagan, after a waning look of love for their renounced idol, proceeded to treat it with scorn by devoting himself entirely to the usurpers. He brought cocoanut shells filled with cool water, and the thirsty ones drank.
“We seem to have got here in the fruit, fish, vegetable and novelty season, to say the least,” observed Hugh.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” was all she could say, her eyes sparkling. Never had he seen her so ravishingly beautiful as now, filled as she was with the mingled emotions of fear, excitement, interest, even of rapture. He could not prevent or subdue the thrill of indescribable joy which grew out of the selfish thought that he had saved her and that she must lean upon him solely for protection in this wild land. Turning sharply from her, he glanced at the tempting feast and unceremoniously dismissed the chief and his followers. The big savage stood undecided for a moment in the centre of the room, wavering between fear of the new god’s displeasure and an evident desire to perform some service.
After an instant he boldly strode to a stone block back of and to the left of the image. Seizing it by the top, he gave the impression that he was about to lift the great stone. Instead, however, he merely slid from its position a thin slab, pushing it half way off of its square base. Instantly the sound of rushing water filled the ear, and the unaccountable, muffled roar that had puzzled them was half explained. The block was hollow, revealing a deep, black hole, out of which poured the sound of the hidden stream. The mystified observers could plainly see the water some ten feet below the surface of the earth, gliding swiftly off through a subterranean passage. The chief made them understand that this well was for the purpose of supplying the image with drinking water whenever he needed it.
“That’s very interesting,” said Hugh to Tennys. “I’ll have to see where this water comes from tomorrow. From a practical point of view it is the finest bit of natural sewerage I ever have seen. I’ll make arrangements to tap it, if we are to live here.”
“You lawless Americans!”
Apparently satisfied, the chief and his staring companions withdrew, devoutly prostrating themselves not to the graven image, but to the living, breathing beings who were awaiting, with an ungodlike appetite, an opportunity to make way with the tempting fruit.
“It is ridiculous to allow those poor things to fall down like that every time they turn around before us,” she said, when they were alone.
“We must encourage it. If we are to be idols we can’t afford to give our subjects a bit of relief from their religious obligations, and I’m quite sure we are idols or sovereigns, more than likely the former, judging by the snubbing our flinty friend has received.”
“If we are to live among these people, Hugh Ridgeway, I, for one, intend to tell them, if possible, of the real God, and to do what I can for a cause I served but feebly in the past. I may be a poor missionary, but I intend to try in my weak way to do some good among these poor, benighted creatures.”
“I think we’d better let well enough alone,” said he disparagingly.
“Why, Hugh, how can you say that?”
“I haven’t thought very much about God since I’ve been in this land. I’ve been too busy,” he muttered, with no little shame in his face, although he assumed an air of indifference.
“He saved us from the sea,” she said simply, with a tremor in her voice. “Surely you remember the prayers you uttered from your very soul on that night. Were they not to God?”
“Begin your missionary work with me, Tennys. I am worse than the savages,” he said, not in answer to her question.
Silently and greedily they ate of the delicious fruit, and found new sensations in the taste of more than one strange viand of nature. A calm restfulness settled down upon their tired bodies, and all the world seemed joyfully at peace with them.
Almost overcome by sleep, he managed to toss a few tiger skins on the ground near the door, not forgetting to place his club beside the improvised couch. “Sleep comfortably and don’t be afraid,” he said. She slowly arose from the block and threw herself on the bed of skins.
“You are so good to me and so thoughtful,” she murmured sleepily. “Good-night!”
“Good-night,” came his far away voice, as out of a dream.
Outside, the celebration was at its height, but the tired idols heard not a sound of the homage which was theirs that night.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE TRANSFORMATION BEGINS
When Ridgeway opened his eyes, the sunlight was pouring in upon him through the doorway. He looked at his watch, and was surprised to find that it was nearly eleven o’clock. Lady Tennys still slept on her couch of skins; the torches had burned to the ground; the grim idol leered malignantly upon the intruders, and the drea
m that he had experienced during the night was rudely dispelled. His eyes strayed again to the black, glossy, confused hair of the sleeper in the far corner, and a feeling of ineffable pity for her became companion to the sad wrenches that had grown from the misery of his own unhappiness.
She was sleeping on her side, her face from him, her right arm beneath her head, the dainty jewelled hand lying limply upon the spotted leopard skin. The beautifully moulded figure, slight yet perfect, swelling to the well-turned hip, tapering to the tip of the trim shoe which protruded from beneath the rumpled skirt, affording a tiny glimpse of a tempting ankle, was to him a most pathetic picture. As he was about to turn to the door, she awakened with a start and a faint cry. Sitting half erect, she gave a terrified, bewildered glance about her, her eyes at last falling upon him.
“Are you really here?” she cried, joy rushing to her eyes. “I dreamed that you had fled and left me to be cut to pieces by the savages.”
“Dreams go by contraries, and I am, therefore, a very brave man. But come, it is eleven o’clock. Let us see what this place looks like in the sunlight.”
Together they went to the wide entrance. A surprise awaited them in their first view of the village by day. Along the base of the circular range of hills stretched the email homes of the inhabitants, but, search as they would, they could discover no signs of life. There was not a human form in sight.
“What the dev—dickens does this mean?” exclaimed he.
“It seemed as if there were thousands of them here last night,” she cried.
“Maybe we have lost our worshippers. I wonder if we are to be the sole possessors of this jungle metropolis?”
A mile away they could distinguish the banks of the river, running toward the great stone gateway of this perfect Eden. The plain between the hills and the river was like a green, annular piece of velvet, not over a mile in diameter, skirted on all sides by tree-covered highlands. The river ran directly through the centre of the basin, coming from the forest land to their right.
In some trepidation they walked to the corner of the temple and surveyed the hillside. Rising steeply from the low ground ran the green slope, at the top of which grew huge trees. The village lay at the base of the hills and was over a mile long, a perfect semi-circle of strange little huts, stretched out in a single line, with the temple as its central point.
“There is the beginning of our underground stream,” exclaimed he, pointing up the elevation. A fierce little stream came plunging from the very heart of the mound, half way to the summit, tearing eagerly to the bottom, where it disappeared in the ground.
Suddenly the sound of distant shouting—or chanting, to be explicit—and the beating of drums came to their ears. They searched the hills and valley with alarm and dread in their eyes, but there was no sign of humanity. For many minutes the chanting continued, growing louder in volume as it drew nearer. At last Lady Tennys uttered an exclamation and pointed toward an opening in the ridge far to the left of the village. A string of natives came winding slowly, solemnly from this cleft—men, women and children apparently without end.
The white people stood like statues in the doorway, watching the approach of the brown figures. There were fully two thousand in that singular procession, at the head of which strode the big chief, with perhaps fifty native women at his heels.
“His multiplied wife,” observed Hugh sententiously.
“Do you think all of them are his wives?” said she, doubtingly.
“It seems to be a heathen’s choice to punish himself on earth and avoid it in the hereafter.”
Behind the women came five men wearing long white robes and carrying unusually long spears. They were followed by the rabble. At length the weird cavalcade, marching straight across the plain, came to a halt not more than a hundred feet from the entrance to the temple. The chief advanced a few steps, pausing at the edge of a bare, white spot of ground some ten feet square. Then, after a most reverential bow, he tossed a small reddish chunk of wood into the white square. No sooner had the leader deposited his piece of wood than forward came the women, the white-robed men, and then the rag-tag of the population, each person tossing a piece upon the rapidly growing heap. In silent amusement, Ridgeway and Lady Tennys watched this strange ceremony.
“They’ve been visiting somebody’s woodpile,” speculated Hugh.
“Perhaps they intend to roast us alive,” ventured she.
The small army fell back from the pile of wood, the chief maintaining a position several feet to the fore, a lad behind him bearing a lighted torch. After many signs and presumably devout antics, one of the spearmen took the torch and lighted this contribution from a combined populace. As the thin column of smoke arose on the still, hot air, the vast crowd fell to the ground as one person, arising almost instantly to begin the wildest, most uncanny dance that mortal ever saw. The smoke and flames grew, the dry wood crackled, the spearmen poked it with their long weapons, and the vast brown audience went into a perfect frenzy of fervor.
Not until the pile was reduced to ashes did the smoke dance cease. The spearmen retired, and the big chief came forward with a tread so ludicrously grand that they could scarce refrain from laughter. He carried two short staffs in his hands, the heads of which were nothing less than the skulls of infants. To the disgust of the white people the chief presented to each of them a shudder-inspiring wand. Afterward they learned that the skull-tipped staffs signified death to all who opposed their way. They also learned that the red bits of wood that had gone up in the flame were stained by the blood of a half dozen prisoners of war, executed the night before as a sacrifice to the new gods.
The new monarchs accepted the sceptres gingerly and the wildest glee broke loose in the waiting throng. While they danced and shouted, Hugh inwardly cursed the ostentation that was delaying breakfast.
Impatiently he made the chief understand what was wanted, and that worthy proved an excellent substitute for the genii. He rushed over and bawled a few commands, and a dozen women and men sped away like the wind. A few moments later the chief entered the temple and found Ridgeway calmly measuring off the ground for the partitions that were to transform one room into three.
So apt was the white man at sign making and so apt was the brown man at understanding that before an hour had passed a dozen strong fellows were at work, carrying out the designs of the new idol, the morning meal having been disposed of in the meantime. Using the same kind of material that comprised the outer walls, a partition was constructed lengthwise through the centre of the temple. The front half was left as a reception hall and living room and the rear half was divided into two apartments, each fifteen feet square. They were to serve as sleeping rooms. These ruthless improvements made it necessary to remove the great stone idol from his pedestal.
“Chuck him out into the backyard,” said Hugh. That evening the poor old image, as disgusted as a piece of rock could possibly be, was carried to the river and tossed into the rapids, his successors standing with the multitude on the high bank to witness his disappearance and to hear his unhappy kerplunk! The waters closed over his unhallowed head and the new dispensation began. Back across the little plain to the torch-lit village swarmed the fickle, joyous savages.
“Good Lord,” observed Hugh, “what a ferocious crowd it is! They tear their enemies to pieces and yet we have them under our thumbs—for the present at least.”
“I believe they are naturally intelligent, and I’m sure we can help them. Do you know what those white robes are made from?”
“Certainly. Cotton.”
“It is woven grass. They bleach it. The women do the work down by the river, and the robes worn by their spearmen are really beautiful pieces of fabric.”
“I am going to leave my measure for a pair of white grass trousers,” said Hugh lightly, “and an umbrella,” he added, looking up at the broiling sky.
Together the white usurpers planned many important improvements against the probability of a long stay amon
g the savages. A wonderful system of sewerage was designed—and afterward carried out faithfully. A huge bath pool was to be sunk for Lady Tennys in the rear of her apartment; a kitchen and cold-storage cellar were to grow off the west end of the temple and a splendid awning was to be ordered for the front porch! Time and patience were to give them all of these changes. Time was of less consequence than patience, it may be well to add. The slaving retinue was willing but ignorant.
The adoring chief gave Tennys a group of ten handmaidens before the day was over, and Hugh had a constant body guard of twenty stalwarts—which he prosaically turned into carpenters, stone-masons, errand boys and hunters.
“You must not try to civilize them in a day,” she smilingly protested when he became particularly enthusiastic.
“Well, just see what we have done today,” he cried. “How can you account for the enforced abdication of old Uncle Rocksy, the transformation of his palace into a commodious, three-room lodging-house, and all such things, unless you admit that we are here to do as we please? We’ll make a metropolitan place out of this hamlet in a year if we—”
“A year! Oh, don’t suggest such a possibility,” she cried. “I’d die if I thought we were to be here for a year.”
“I hope we won’t, but we may as well look the situation straight in the face. There has been no white man here before us. It is by the rarest chance in the world that we are here. Therefore, it may be years before we are found and taken away from this undiscovered paradise.”
The flickering, fitful light of the torches stuck in the ground behind them played upon two white faces from which had fled the zeal and fervor of the moment before, leaving then drawn and dispirited.
“All our lives, perhaps,” she murmured.
The George Barr McCutcheon Megapack: 25 Classic Novels and Stories Page 181