by Hugh Lloyd
Hal’s hopes rose a little after that. He found, surprisingly, that hecould do wonders with his two bare hands. The fowl was plucked and givenas good a cleaning as was possible, considering the lack of water. Andif he was a little skeptical as to its sanitary merits, he did not allowthe thought to spoil the pleasant anticipation of a poultry dinner.
He gathered wood again, piles of it, and built a fine fire. Darkness hadsettled before the meal was cooked, but Hal was indifferent toeverything save his primitive cooking. The fowl required all hisattention and had to be roasted over the fire by means of a stick whichhe had broken at one end into a sort of make-shift prong.
He consumed the whole bird, and though it was rather tasteless withoutsalt, he was thankful for that much. Water he tried not to think of.Sleep he could have for the taking, and he set about piling wood ontothe fire so that he could sleep for an hour or two without fear ofhaving the jungle night prowlers disturb his much-needed slumber.
The hands of his wrist watch pointed to eight o’clock as he settledhimself close to the fire. The heat was a little uncomfortable, but hedared not risk sleeping away from its protecting glow. And as he shuthis eyes to the dismal solitude about him, his prayer was a hope thattomorrow would bring help.
But Hal was to learn that tomorrow never comes.
CHAPTER XIV RODRIGUEZ HAS COMPANY
Hal awakened at the witching hour of midnight to find that he was beingdeluged in a rainstorm, his fire was out and he couldn’t see anythingbut the radium-faced dial of his wrist watch.
He jumped up and scurried to the shelter of some near-by trees,shivering in his soaked clothes. Something moved swiftly near by, heheard a rustle of leaves and the patter of slow, velvety footsteps onthe soggy ground.
In a second he had delved into his pocket and brought out his package ofmatches. But they were dry and he had one lighted in an instant—in timeto catch a flashing glimpse of a jaguar’s yellowish-brown spots as itleaped across Rodriguez’ temporary bier and disappeared between thetrees.
Hal shouted to frighten it and his match burned out. He continued toshout, meanwhile breathlessly seeking for some of the drier pieces ofwood which he had stored beneath the trees. The rain stopped then, butstill it took him an interminable time to coax a flame out of the dampwood. But at last he succeeded and after he had coaxed the flame into afairly generous fire he set about drying out the rest of the wood.
From time to time he glanced at the telltale mound in the shadows andeach time he shivered. The jaguar incident brought home to him therealization that necessity forced Rodriguez’ last resting place to be inthe jungle. Decency forbade a recurrence of that midnight scene and heknew that dawn would bring again the black scavengers of the air inincreased numbers. Nothing but a quick, effectual burial would drivethem away.
It was the only way out.
Hal spent the remainder of the black hours drying his clothes. Hisimmaculate flannels were now a brownish hue, spotted here and there withmud and wrinkled into a state that defied even the dry cleaner. And hisshoes, once so trim and smart looking, were not recognizable because ofseveral layers of clay which had dried upon them.
Just before a new day dawned in the jungle, Hal groped his way throughthe dark to the scene of the wreck. He built a small fire there to givehim light and proceeded to hunt about the framework for something whichcould be used as a spade. But that availed him nothing, and he was aboutto give up in despair when he happened to notice the trench which thecrippled engine had burrowed as it fell. The propeller, he saw at once,had completely loosed itself in the impact and was lying a few feetdistant.
Hal pulled it out of the mud and with it a frightened spider which ranacross his hand, leaving a trail of poison which caused not only anintense burning but severe inflammation as well. In point of fact, allof Hal’s jungle trials seemed to begin with that spider’s infection.
He sucked out the poison as best he could and trudged back to theclearing with the propeller. Dawn found him using it as a spade withwhich to dig a last resting place for José Rodriguez, and if it wasrather ineffectual as an instrument, it was none the less fitting thatit should be used in preparing an airman’s grave.
The sun was high in the east when Hal had pounded the last bit of mireinto place. Solemnly, then, he dug the propeller at its head and left itthere as a marker. For a moment he stood glancing at his handiwork,feeling inexpressibly sad and without hope. His hand caused him muchpain; he was weary from irregular sleep and his thirst knew no bounds.
The grave seemed to be the final gesture. It was his admission of losthope and he voiced it aloud. Not a bit of use was there to scan the bluechink of sky. Carmichael was not to be the means of his rescue, he feltit just as surely as he felt thirst. What would be the means of hisrescue, if at all, he could not feel. Indeed, the thought itself seemedto be swallowed up in the vague mists of the future.
He turned his back on the lonely grave, wrapped in despair. Nothingmattered much except that he get a drink of water, somewhere, somehow.He turned east, thinking that at least he was facing _Manaos_ and if hewas fortunate enough to keep going in that direction he would some dayreach there.
“_Some day!_” Hal laughed bitterly. “It’s like tomorrow, I guess—itnever comes.”
And as he stepped from the clearing into the trackless maze of jungle, abeautiful yellow-breasted, black-coated bird warbled at his back with aninsistence that Hal felt was nothing but mockery. Its cheerful whistlingnote he could not bear. It was decidedly out of place in that dismalsolitude, he thought, as he turned to view the creature.
But he quickly changed his mind, however, when he saw that thesilver-throated creature had hopped onto a limb of the tree thatshadowed Rodriguez’ grave. The bird seemed to defy all that was sad andwith its graceful head to one side it poured out a medley of cheer inthe trilling call, _pir-i-pi-pi, pir-i-pi-pi_. And strangest of all, thebeautiful little creature seemed to be directing its efforts toward thesilent mound beneath it.
Hal turned his back on the clearing for good and all, then. He could doit now with a heart less heavy. At least he would not have thatcontemptible feeling that he was leaving a fellow being in the eternalsolitude of the jungle.
Rodriguez would never be alone.
CHAPTER XV A DAY AND A NIGHT
Hal groped his way through another jungle day and just as the shadowsbegan to creep through the forest he came upon an almost overgrowntrail. He was overjoyed, for it was the first indication he had seenthat something else besides animal life had trod that lonely region.Also, he could see in the deepening gloom that the foliage and treesbecame more attenuated from this point on.
Did it mean that he was approaching a settlement? Civilization? Even inhis extreme joy he dared not hope for that much. But the anticipation ofseeing a human being was quite enough. That and a drink of cool waterwas all he asked for.
His hand hurt him constantly and he found it difficult to use it at all.Consequently he went around picking up the wood for his fire with hisleft hand, which seemed to take him considerably longer. And when nightclosed in he had only enough to burn for a few hours.
He decided to make the best of it—in point of fact, he felt too utterlyweary and feverish to do otherwise. Just then he was powerless to doaught but spread out his flannel coat and lie down. The making ofcampfires was beginning to get on his nerves.
But he managed another fire, hoping against hope that it would be thelast. He piled onto it all the wood that he had gathered, then lay downon the spread coat and thought over the day which he had just spent.
He had killed two fowls which meant two bullets less in his gun. Also hewas down to two cigarettes and the same number of matches. It was amatter of necessity that he reach some sort of settlement that next day.A horrible chill shook him from head to foot, when he thought of what atime he would have if another day’s tramping brought him no more than
the day just closed.
Finally he got to sleep and tossed for two hours, dreaming horribledreams. When he awakened, the fire was dead and he found himselfbesieged with mosquitoes. There was no brushing them off and even whenhe used up his next to the last match to light a cigarette and smokethem out, he had little or no success.
The itch and sting of them drove him to distraction, and after an hourhe gave up all thought of trying to sleep. Then for a long interval hepaced up and down his little clearing with his coat pulled about hishead. After that proved uncomfortable he decided to grope his waythrough the dark and take his chances. Anything to keep going.
He did.
He hadn’t gone but five hundred feet when he remembered about the trailand its promise for the morrow. What was getting into him that he couldforget that so soon? Was he delirious? Certainly he felt he would be ifhe couldn’t sleep some more somewhere and rest his feverish, achingbody. But the memory of the trail became very vivid, very promisingthen, and he decided not to go one step further.
And Hal’s life rested on that decision, for he had hesitated upon thatstep. One foot, however, had already been plunged forward and he feltwater close over it. In a moment he had drawn it back, trembling andshaken, for something had rubbed against it. And in a nervous abandon hetook out his last match, struck it against the little box and held it upto see that he had barely escaped certain death.
For the flickering light of the match showed him to be standing on thebrink of a stagnant jungle pond. And lying on its slimy banks was a hugealligator blinking curiously at the tiny flame and occasionally openingits cavernous jaws.
The light went out, but Hal found his way back to the camp and he stayedthere until dawning.
CHAPTER XVI WITH THE MORNING
Hal was sick when daylight seeped in through the trees; he felt much toosick to do anything but stay right where he was. But the nearness of thepond housing an alligator, and the hope that the trail revived, did muchtoward giving him the strength and initiative to go on.
The trail skirted the pond, for which he was tremendously thankful. Hegave it a furtive glance in passing, but there was nothing save agood-sized ripple on the slimy-green surface, and Hal decided that themonster must be taking his morning bath.
“And he can stay under until I get out of sight,” Hal muttered savagely.“One look at that fellow will last me for a long, long time.”
He trudged along, feeling more and more encouraged at the decidedthinning out of the jungle. He felt freer, more like breathing than whenback in the dense forest, and the broad expanse of daylight in theheavens set his heart to beating faster.
He almost forgot that his body ached and that his head throbbedterribly. Fever racked him and his right hand was so swollen that it waspractically useless. But there was always the trail winding in and outof the trees, lost one moment in a maze of bushes between the trees,then coming up again a few feet further on.
The sun came up in a vast red ball, and Hal could see its reflection nowupon the shining leaves in the tree tops. He had stopped a moment tolook at it, when he heard a sudden rustling noise in the distant bushes.He stepped up, realizing that it sounded like some heavy object plungingabout in the undergrowth, and was about to withdraw instinctively, whenthere arose in the morning air a blood-curdling roar.
Before he had time to retreat, the bushes parted and out from themleaped a jaguar. Its spotted back reared high in the air and, with aninfuriated squall, it came down at Hal’s feet. An arrow sticking out ofits thick neck told the story.
Obviously the animal was as much surprised as Hal, for it backed down amoment, crouching on its hind legs and swinging its tail with a greatthumping sound each time it switched on the ground. But not for a momentdid it take its savage eyes from the astonished young man before it.
Hal saw at once that the animal was suffering great pain from the arrow,but the wound was not mortal. Its frequent squalls betokened anger andrevenge against all humanity, and, from the hard glint in its eyes, thisretaliation would be thorough.
Hal did not stir from the spot, but, with a stealthy gesture, he reachedaround to his back pocket. The next second he had aimed the gun at aspot right between the jaguar’s steely eyes, but his aim was poor withhis left hand and he knew it. Consequently, the second the explosionoccurred, he was fleeing toward the nearest tree.
Up the slimy trunk he clambered, but not before the animal reached outand clawed his right leg. Nevertheless, he hitched himself up, bitinghis lips with pain, and settled on the nearest bough. Meanwhile, thejaguar was crawling after him, hissing and emitting blood-curdlingcries.
Hal aimed the gun again, this time supporting it as best he could withhis swollen right hand. The bullet sang, the jaguar screamed, and beforeits echo had died away in the tree tops, it fell with a terrific thudand rolled five or six feet before its spotted body became rigid indeath.
For a long time, Hal stayed where he was, fearing that the cat mightsuddenly revive. But when ten minutes had passed and there was no signof such a miracle, he carefully replaced the gun in his pocket andundertook to get down from his uncomfortable retreat.
He soon found that he could not use his leg at all and had to slide tothe ground, blistering his good hand and feeling faint when he tried tostand upright. He reached out to support himself on the tree trunk but awave of giddiness passed through his throbbing head and though he felthimself sinking he seemed not to be able to prevent it.
He found himself in a heap and seemed to have neither the strength northe desire to do aught but stretch out and lie where he was. Paingoverned him now from head to foot and he feared for his wounded leg.But the fear soon gave way to a sort of apathy out of which he did notrise.
His eyes noted indifferently the sun climbing higher in the blueheavens. It gleamed quite strongly through the swaying branches and, inits glistening light, various-colored birds flitted about. Suddenly hesaw something black moving with a familiar whirling motion.
They circled closer and closer to the tree tops, swaying with eachrevolution of their huge black bodies like some small army of the skymoving earthward as a single unit. There was a fascination in thatcontinuous circling, Hal found—a rather dread fascination, and hevaguely remembered that the dead jaguar lay not fifteen feet from him.
Then when their black bodies barely skimmed the tree tops he bethoughthimself of his own physical condition. He knew he was getting weaker bythe moment. Besides his wounded leg and infected hand, some strangefever seemed to be consuming him. Suddenly a horrible thought came tohim.
Did it mean that he was destined to die in that unholy spot? Did it meanthat those gruesome scavengers of the air were waiting for that momentto arrive? Something was holding them off from descending upon thehapless jaguar—was it himself?
Hal shivered and shuddered, yet he hadn’t the power to stir his body oneinch. He could only lie there and stare at the black mass moving nearerand nearer, yet waiting, waiting.... But suddenly they seemed to berushing toward him—either that or he was rushing up toward them! But no,it was neither—he himself was sinking down, down....
Strange cries pierced the air then, cries that were not uttered by birdor animal or white man. Strange painted bodies moved in the brush, movedstealthily but surely, and black, questioning eyes peered out at thesingular scene of a dead jaguar and a red-haired white man lying butfifteen feet apart.
CHAPTER XVII A GUEST OF SAVAGES
After a few more minutes’ observation, twenty-five naked savages crawledout of the brush, crept up to Hal’s prostrate body and held a noisyconference. Then they took turns feeling his feverish brow and theirregular heart beats pounding beneath his powerful chest. Suddenly twoof the warriors leaned down, one taking his head and the other his feet,and in solemn procession they marched off through the brush, leaving twoof their number to skin the jaguar.
Evening came before Hal
was conscious of anything. When he opened hiseyes he could see the glow of many campfires. A deep gloom seemed tosurround him, but sitting on either side were two Indian women, old andwrinkled, watching him with blinking eyes and tightly drawn lips.
He had a bitter taste in his mouth, an herb-like taste, but he felt notso feverish. Also, when he went to raise his right hand he noticed thatit was covered with a sort of claylike substance and the swelling wasalmost gone. His leg, too, felt easier and he saw, as he raised it intothe firelight, that it was covered with the same substance that was onhis hand.
Gradually he could pick out a row of pillars supporting the roof, andfrom each of these pillars he noticed a frail crossbar to the outerwall. Between each of these bars he saw Indians sleeping, men, women,and children. Some slept on skins or leaves and some on the bare ground.Before each of these groups a fire burned and Hal decided that eachgroup was a family with their own distinct hearth-fire burning beforetheir apartments. Over all was a vast roof.
It occurred to Hal, then, that he was in an Indian _maloka_, one ofthose vast houses of thatch which the captain of the boat had told themhoused the entire tribe. He was lying in one of the apartments at therear, for the low, sloping roof he could have touched with his foot ifhe had had the strength to raise it.
A medley of snores resounded through the vast hut and from time to timehe saw the squat figures of warriors replenishing their fires, murmuringto each other for a moment or two, then retiring again to theirapartments to sleep.
