CHAPTER XXI
SAVAGE FEASTS AND ORNAMENTS--MARTIN GROWS DESPERATE, AND MAKES A BOLDATTEMPT TO ESCAPE
Hunting and feasting were the chief occupations of the men of the tribewith whom Martin sojourned. One day Martin was told that a great feastwas to take place, and he was permitted to attend. Accordingly, a littlebefore the appointed time he hastened to the large hut in and aroundwhich the festivities were to take place, in order to witness thepreparations.
The first thing that struck him was that there seemed to be nopreparations making for eating; and on inquiry he was told that they didnot meet to eat, they met to drink and dance,--those who were hungrymight eat at home.
The preparations for drinking were made on an extensive scale by thewomen, a number of whom stood round a large caldron, preparing itscontents for use. These women wore very little clothing, and theirbodies, besides being painted in a fantastic style, were also decoratedwith flowers and feathers. Martin could not help feeling that, howeverabsurd the idea of painting the body was, it had at least the good effectof doing away to some extent with the idea of nakedness; for the curiouspatterns and devices gave to the Indians the appearance of being clothedin tights,--and, at any rate, he argued mentally, paint was better thannothing. Some of the flowers were artificially constructed out ofbeetles' wings, shells, fish-scales, and feathers, and were exquisitelybeautiful as well as gorgeous.
One of the younger women struck Martin as being ultra-fashionable in herpaint. Her black shining hair hung like a cloak over her reddish-brownshoulders, and various strange drawings and figures ornamented her faceand breast. On each cheek she had a circle, and over that two strokes;under the nose were four red spots; from the corners of her mouth to themiddle of each cheek were two parallel lines, and below these severalupright stripes; on various parts of her back and shoulders werecuriously entwined circles, and the form of a snake was depicted invermilion down each arm. Unlike the others, she wore no ornament except asimple necklace of monkeys' teeth. This beauty was particularly active inmanufacturing the intoxicating drink, which is prepared thus:--A quantityof maize was pounded in the hollow trunk of a tree and put into anearthen pot, where it was boiled in a large quantity of water. Then thewoman took the coarsely ground and boiled flour out of the water, chewedit in their mouths for a little, and put it into the pot again! By thismeans the decoction began to ferment and became intoxicating. It was avery disgusting method, yet it is practised by many Indian tribes inAmerica; and, strange to say, also by some of the South Sea islanders,who, of course, could not have learned it from these Indians.
When this beverage was ready, the chief, a tall, broad-shouldered man,whose painted costume and ornaments were most elaborate, stepped up tothe pot and began a strange series of incantations, which he accompaniedby rattling a small wooden instrument in his hand; staring all the timeat the earthen pot, as if he half expected it to run away; and dancingslowly round it, as if to prevent such a catastrophe from taking place.The oftener the song was repeated the more solemn and earnest became theexpression of his face and the tones of his voice. The rest of theIndians, who were assembled to the number of several hundreds, stoodmotionless round the pot, staring at him intently without speaking, andonly now and then, when the voice and actions of the chief became muchexcited, they gave vent to a sympathetic howl.
After this had gone on for some time, the chief seized a drinking-cup,or cuja, which he gravely dipped into the pot and took a sip. Then theshaking of the rattle and the monotonous song began again. The chiefnext took a good pull at the cup and emptied it; after which hepresented it to his companions, who helped themselves at pleasure; andthe dance and monotonous music became more furious and noisy the longerthe cup went round.
When the cup had circulated pretty freely among them, their dances andmusic became more lively; but they were by no means attractive. After hehad watched them a short time, Martin left the festive scene with afeeling of pity for the poor savages; and as he thought upon their lowand debased condition he recalled to mind the remark of his old friendthe hermit,--"They want the Bible in Brazil."
During his frequent rambles in the neighbourhood of the Indian village,Martin discovered many beautiful and retired spots, to which he was inthe habit of going in the evenings after his daily labours wereaccomplished, accompanied, as usual, at a respectful distance, by hisvigilant friend the tall savage. One of his favourite resting-places wasat the foot of a banana-tree which grew on the brow of a stupendous cliffabout a mile distant from the hut in which he dwelt. From this spot hehad a commanding view of the noble valley and the distant mountains.These mountains now seemed to the poor boy to be the ponderous gates ofhis beautiful prison; for he had been told by one of his Indian friendsthat on the other side of them were great campos and forests, beyondwhich dwelt many Portuguese, while still further on was a great lakewithout shores, which was the end of the world. This, Martin wasconvinced, must be the Atlantic Ocean; for, upon inquiry, he found thatmany months of travel must be undergone ere it could be reached.Moreover, he knew that it could not be the Pacific, because the sun rosein that direction.
Sauntering away to his favourite cliff, one fine evening towards sunset,he seated himself beneath the banana-tree and gazed longingly at thedistant mountains, whose sharp summits glittered in the ruddy glow. Hehad long racked his brain in order to devise some method of escape, buthitherto without success. Wherever he went the "shadow" followed him,armed with the deadly blow-pipe; and he knew that even if he did succeedin eluding his vigilance and escaping into the woods, hundreds ofsavages would turn out and track him, with unerring certainty, to anyhiding-place. Still the strength of his stern determination sustainedhim; and, at each failure in his efforts to devise some means ofeffecting his purpose, he threw off regret with a deep sigh, andreturned to his labour with a firmer step, assured that he shouldeventually succeed.
As he sat there on the edge of the precipice, he said, half aloud, "Whatprevents me from darting suddenly on that fellow and knocking him down?"
This was a question that might have been easily answered. No doubt he wasphysically capable of coping with the man, for he had now been upwards ofa year in the wilderness, and was in his sixteenth year, besides beingunusually tall and robust for his age. Indeed he looked more like afull-grown man than a stripling; for hard, incessant toil had developedhis muscles and enlarged his frame, and his stirring life, combinedlatterly with anxiety, had stamped a few of the lines of manhood on hissunburnt countenance. But, although he could have easily overcome theIndian, he knew that he would be instantly missed; and, from what he hadseen of the powers of the savages in tracking wild animals to their densin the mountains, he felt that he could not possibly elude them except bystratagem.
Perplexed and wearied with unavailing thought and anxiety, Martin pressedhis hands to his forehead and gazed down the perpendicular cliff, whichwas elevated fully a hundred feet above the plain below. Suddenly hestarted and clasped his hands upon his eyes, as if to shut out someterrible object from his sight. Then, creeping cautiously towards theedge of the cliff, he gazed down, while an expression of stern resolutionsettled upon his pale face.
And well might Martin's cheek blanch, for he had hit upon a plan ofescape which, to be successful, required that he should twice turn abold, unflinching face on death. The precipice, as before mentioned, wasfully a hundred feet high, and quite perpendicular. At the foot of itthere flowed a deep and pretty wide stream, which, just under the spotwhere Martin stood, collected in a deep black pool, where it rested for amoment ere it rushed on its rapid course down the valley. Over the cliffand into that pool Martin made up his mind to plunge, and so give theimpression that he had fallen over and been drowned. The risk he ran intaking such a tremendous leap was very great indeed, but that was onlyhalf the danger he must encounter.
The river was one of a remarkable kind, of which there are one or twoinstances in South America. It flowed down the valley between highrocks, and, a few hundred yards be
low the pool, it ran straight againstthe face of a precipice and there terminated to all appearance; but agurgling vortex in the deep water at the base of the cliff, and thedisappearance of everything that entered it, showed that the streamfound a subterranean passage. There was no sign of its reappearance,however, in all the country round. In short, the river was lost in thebowels of the earth.
From the pool to the cliff where the river was engulfed the water ranlike a mill-race, and there was no spot on either bank where any onecould land, or even grasp with his hand, except one. It was a narrow,sharp rock, that jutted out about two feet from the bank, quite close tothe vortex of the whirlpool. This rock was Martin's only hope. To miss itwould be certain destruction. But if he should gain a footing on it heknew that he could climb by a narrow fissure into a wild, cavernous spot,which it was exceedingly difficult to reach from any other point. A bendin the river concealed this rock and the vortex from the place whereon hestood, so that he hoped to be able to reach the point of escape beforethe savage could descend the slope and gain the summit of the cliff fromwhence it could be seen.
Of all this Martin was well aware, for he had been often at the placebefore, and knew every inch of the ground. His chief difficulty would beto leap over the precipice in such a manner as to cause the Indian tobelieve he had fallen over accidentally. If he could accomplish this,then he felt assured the savages would suppose he had been drowned, andso make no search for him at all. Fortunately the ground favoured this.About five feet below the edge of the precipice there was a projectingledge of rock nearly four feet broad and covered with shrubs. Upon thisit was necessary to allow himself to fall. The expedient was a desperateone, and he grew sick at heart as he glanced down the awful cliff, whichseemed to him three times higher than it really was, as all heights dowhen seen from above.
Glancing round, he observed his savage guardian gazing contemplatively atthe distant prospect. Martin's heart beat audibly as he rose and walkedwith an affectation of carelessness to the edge of the cliff. As he gazeddown, a feeling of horror seized him; he gasped for breath, and almostfainted. Then the idea of perpetual slavery flashed across his mind, andthe thought of freedom and home nerved him: He clenched his hands,staggered convulsively forward and fell, with a loud and genuine shriekof terror, upon the shrubs that covered the rocky ledge. Instantly hearose, ground his teeth together, raised his eyes for one moment toheaven, and sprang into the air. For one instant he swept through emptyspace; the next he was deep down in the waters of the dark pool, and whenthe horrified Indian reached the edge of the precipice, he beheld hisprisoner struggling on the surface for a moment, ere he was swept by therapid stream round the point and out of view.
Bounding down the slope, the savage sped like a hunted antelope acrossthe intervening space between the two cliffs, and quickly gained the browof the lower precipice, which he reached just in time to see MartinRattler's straw hat dance for a moment on the troubled waters of thevortex and disappear in the awful abyss. But Martin saw it, too, from thecleft in the frowning rock.
On reaching the surface after his leap he dashed the water from his eyesand looked with intense earnestness in the direction of the projectingrock towards which he was hurried. Down he came upon it with such speedthat he felt no power of man could resist. But there was a small eddyjust below it, into which he was whirled as he stretched forth his handsand clutched the rock with the energy of despair. He was instantly tornaway. But another small point projected two feet below it. This heseized. The water swung his feet to and fro as it gushed into the vortex,but the eddy saved him. In a moment his breast was on the rock, then hisfoot, and he sprang into the sheltering cleft just a moment before theIndian came in view of the scene of his supposed death.
Martin flung himself with his face to the ground, and thought rather thanuttered a heartfelt thanksgiving for his deliverance. The savage carriedthe news of his death to his friends in the Indian village, and recountedwith deep solemnity the particulars of his awful fate to crowds ofwondering,--in many cases sorrowing,--listeners; and for many a day afterthat, the poor savages were wont to visit the terrible cliff and gazewith awe on the mysterious vortex that had swallowed up, as theybelieved, the fair-haired boy.
Martin Rattler Page 23
