Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  He kicked him again, quite unnecessarily, I thought, and Moit stood up with a red and angry face and growled:

  “Stop that, you fool!”

  At this rebellion Nux promptly fetched him a blow behind the knees that sent him tumbling backward upon his seat, and when I laughed — for I could not help it — I got another ear-splitter that made me hold my head and be glad to keep silent. Moit evidently saw the force of our blacks’ arguments, for he recovered his wits in time to avoid further blows.

  The exhibition had one good effect, anyway; it lulled any suspicions of the chief that the Honorable Bryonia and Senator Nux might not be the masters in our little party. Although Duncan Moit and I constantly encountered looks of bitter hatred, our men were thereafter treated with ample respect and consideration.

  “You welcome,” said the chief. “I Ogo — Capitan Ogo — green chief. You come to my house.”

  He turned and marched away, and Moit started the machine and made it crawl after him.

  The other natives followed in a grave procession, and so we entered the village and passed up its clean looking streets between rows of simple but comfortable huts to the further end, where we halted at the domicile of the “green chief.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  FACING THE ENEMY

  “Capitan” Ogo made an impressive bow in the direction of his mud mansion and then another bow to Nux and Bry.

  “Come,” he said.

  They accepted the invitation and climbed out of the machine.

  “Don’t be long, Nux,” I remarked, in the Tayakoo dialect.

  Instantly the chief swung around on his heel.

  “What does this mean?” he cried, speaking the same language. “Do you receive orders from your white slaves?”

  I stared at him open mouthed, but to my intense admiration neither Nux nor Bryonia exhibited the least surprise.

  “Orders?” asked Bry, quietly. “Do you blame us that the whites are fools, and speak like fools? My brother has surely more wisdom than that. If you knew the white dogs, you would believe that their tongues are like the tongues of parrots.”

  “I know them,” answered Ogo, grimly. Then he asked, abruptly: “Where did you learn the language of my people — the ancient speech of the Techlas?”

  “It is my own language, the speech of my people of Tayakoo, whose chief I am.”

  They looked upon each other with evident curiosity, and I examined the two Indians, as they stood side by side, and wondered at their similar characteristics. Bryonia might easily be mistaken for a brother of the San Blas chief, so far as appearances went, and although Nux was of a different build there were many duplicates of him in the silent crowd surrounding us.

  “Where is Tayakoo?” asked Ogo.

  “Far to the south, in the Pacific Ocean.”

  “What is the history of your people?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Are there many of you?”

  “But a few, inhabiting a small island.”

  The chief seemed thoughtful; then he turned again.

  “Come!” he commanded; and they followed him into his house.

  Duncan Moit was clearly puzzled by this conversation, carried on in a language unknown to him.

  “What is it all about, Sam?” he enquired, in a low voice.

  “The Sulus and the San Blas speak the same language,” I replied.

  “Anything wrong?”

  “No; our chances are better than ever, I guess.”

  Fifty pair of eyes were staring at us curiously; so we decided not to converse further at present. We stared in turn at the natives, who seemed not to object in the least.

  Without question the San Blas were the best looking Indians I have ever seen. They resembled somewhat the best of the North American tribes, but among them was a larger proportion of intelligence and shrewdness. Their faces were frank and honest, their eyes large and expressive and they moved in a self-possessed and staid manner that indicated confidence in their own powers and contempt for all enemies.

  Their costumes were exceedingly interesting. Men and women alike wore simple robes of finely woven wool that were shaped somewhat like Greek tunics. The arms of the men were bare; the women had short flowing sleeves; and this was the only perceptible difference in the garb of the two sexes, except that most of the men wore sandals of bark, while the women and children were bare-footed.

  The tunic was their sole garment, and reached only to the knees, being belted at the waist. The women, I afterward learned, wove the cloth in their houses, as one of their daily occupations, and the body of the tunic was always white, with colored stripes worked in at the neck and around the bottom.

  These colors, which must have been vegetable dyes, were very brilliant in hue, including purple, orange, red, blue and yellow. Black was never used at all, and green was the color reserved for the nobles and the king. I noticed that the chief, Ogo, had a narrow band of green on his robe, which explained his proudly proclaiming himself a “green” or royal chief. The bands of green we found varied in width according to the prominence of their wearers.

  One can easily imagine that the appearance of an automobile in this country, isolated as it was from all modern civilization, would be likely to inspire the natives with awe and wonder, if not with actual terror. Yet these queer people seemed merely curious, and tried to repress even their curiosity as much as possible. They knew nothing at all of mechanics, existing in the same simple fashion that their ancestors had done, centuries before, plowing their land with sharpened sticks and using arrows and spears as their only weapons except for the long bronze knives that were so roughly fashioned as to be well-nigh ridiculous. The only way I can explain the stolid demeanor of these Indians is through their characteristic fearlessness and repression, which enabled them to accept any wonderful thing without displaying emotion.

  But they were interested, nevertheless. Their eyes roved everywhere about the machine and only we, the accursed whites, were disregarded.

  After a half hour or so Nux and Bryonia came out of the house, accompanied by the chief. They had broken bread together and tasted a native liquor, so that they might now depend upon the friendship of their host unless he found that they had deceived him. This was a long stride in the right direction. But when they had asked to see the king they were told that his residence was several miles to the eastward, and that in the morning Ogo would escort them to the royal dwelling and introduce them to the mighty Nalig-Nad.

  Meantime Nux and Bry were given plain instructions not to leave this village, and when they were invited to sleep in the chief’s house they were able to decline by asserting that they always lived in their magic travelling machine. This excuse had been prearranged by us, for we deemed it best not to separate or to leave the machine while we were in the enemy’s country.

  As soon as the blacks had re-entered the machine they commanded me, in abusive language, to prepare supper. Duncan at once got out our table, which was a folding contrivance he had arranged to set up in the center of the car, and then I got the alcohol stove from its locker and proceeded to light it.

  While I made coffee and set the table with the food we had brought, Nux and Bry lolled on their seats and divided the admiring glances of the surrounding villagers with the (to them) novel preparations I was making for the repast. Then the Sulus sat at the table and I waited upon them with comical deference, Moit being unable to force himself to take part in the farce. Afterward we ate our own suppers and I for one relished it more than I usually did.

  In my boyish fashion I regarded it all as a great lark, and enjoyed the humor of the situation.

  As it was growing dark I now lighted our lamps while the inventor drew the sections of the glass dome into place and fastened them together.

  We could still be observed by those without, for although the top was provided with curtains we did not draw them. But now we were able to converse without being overheard, and Nux and Bry, appearing to be talking
with each other, related all that had transpired in the chief’s house, while we commented upon it and our good fortune up to the present time.

  “After we have visited the king, and made friends with him, we shall be able to go wherever we please,” I prophesied; “and then it won’t take us long to get the diamonds and make tracks back to the wreck again.”

  To this all were agreed. Then Duncan remarked, musingly:

  “It is strange you two Indian nations, so far removed, speak the same language.”

  “True ‘nough, Mars’ Moit,” replied Bry. “But I ‘spect our folks come from de same country dese San Blas did, an’ dat ‘counts fo’ it.”

  “This fact ought to help us with them,” said I.

  “Sure t’ing, Mars’ Sam,” Nux responded. “Dey knows now we just as good as dey is — an’ we know we’s better.”

  As we were tired with our day’s excursion we soon removed the table and spread our blankets upon the roomy floor of the car. Then, with a courtesy we had not anticipated, the crowd of observers melted silently away, and by the time we were ready to put out the lights and draw the curtains we were alone in the village street, where not a sound broke the stillness.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NALIG-NAD

  WE slept nicely in our rather confined quarters, and at daybreak Bryonia arose and prepared breakfast while the curtains were still drawn. But as soon as he and Nux had cleared away the things we let down the top and appeared in our open car again, to find that the chief had waited so long outside that he was inclined to be in a bad humor.

  The rabble did not come near to us this morning, however. Perhaps the chief thought their intent observation undignified, and had ordered them to keep away. But behind Ogo stood ten tall warriors who had been selected as our escort, or body-guard.

  When we signified we were ready for the journey these formed a line of march — three in front, three behind, and two on either side. All were armed with stout spears, and each bore a bow and a quiver of bronze-tipped arrows, as well as a knife stuck into his girdle. When we started, the chief brought up the rear of the procession, so that he could keep an eye on us.

  Duncan Moit resented the necessity of running his machine at a slow pace, but when he started it at an ordinary walk he soon found that the Indians were accustomed to swing along at a much swifter rate. So he gradually increased our speed, and it was comical to see the solemn visaged warriors trying to keep up with us without running.

  Finally, however, they broke into an easy trot, which they maintained for a long time without seeming to tire. I made Moit slow down after a while, for I did not wish to provoke the San Blas at present, and thought it wiser to show them some slight consideration.

  The plains we were now crossing were remarkably rich and fertile, and we passed many farms where men were cultivating the soil by dragging sharpened sticks over the surface. In other places were fields of grain ready for the harvest, and Nux questioned the chief and learned that the climate was so uniform the year around that several crops could be grown in rapid succession. They used no beasts of burden, but performed all the labor with their own muscles, which in a measure accounted for their powerful racial physique. There were no roads leading from one place to another, merely paths over the meadows to indicate the lines of travel.

  The houses were formed partly of logs and partly of clay baked in the sun. They were simple and somewhat rude in construction, but appeared to be quite clean and comfortable. So far we had seen little evidence of luxury or refinement.

  It was nearly noon when we approached a circular enclosure which proved to be a stockade of clay held together with brushwood until the sun had hardened it to brick. There was an arched opening in this wall, and Moit obeyed a signal from Ogo and headed toward it.

  Entering the enclosure we found a large, rambling dwelling in the center and a row of smaller houses circling the inner side of the wall. A large space was thus left around the central building, which we naturally concluded to be the king’s palace.

  The doorways and windows (the latter being unglazed apertures) of the smaller huts were filled with attentive faces of women and children, but not a sound broke the silence to which these natives seemed to be trained. Except on extraordinary occasions the San Blas did not chatter; they only spoke when they were required to say something of meaning.

  The chief directed us to halt before a small door of the palace.

  “Get out,” he commanded, in the native tongue, “and follow me to the presence of our ruler, the mighty Nalig-Nad.”

  Bryonia and Nux at once obeyed, but the chief motioned to us to come also. We hesitated, and Bry said:

  “One of our slaves must remain in the machine, to care for it. The other may accompany us.”

  “Both must come!” returned the chief, sternly.

  “What! do you give me orders — do you command the Honorable Bryonia, King of Tayakoo?” demanded our black, drawing himself up proudly and frowning upon Ogo.

  “The king shall decide,” returned the chief. “Come!”

  I followed them in and Duncan remained with the machine. We passed through a hallway and came upon a central courtyard, built in the Spanish style. Here, upon a rude bench, sat an old warrior with a deeply lined face and long locks sprinkled with gray. His eyes were large and black and so piercing in their gaze that they seemed to probe one through and through, yet the expression of the man’s countenance was just now gentle and unassuming.

  He had neither the stern nor the fierce look we had remarked in so many of the San Blas, but one might well hesitate to deceive the owner of that square chin and eagle-like glance.

  The king wore a white robe with seven broad stripes of green woven into its texture, and on his knees were seated two children, a curly-headed little maid of about ten years and a calm faced boy of five. His surroundings were exceedingly simple, and the only others present were a group of warriors squatting in a far corner.

  “Well, you are here at last,” said Nalig-Nad, looking at us over the heads of the children as we ranged ourselves before him and bowed with proper deference. “Which is your leader?”

  “My friend, the Senator Nux, and I, the Honorable Bryonia, are alike kings and rulers in our own country,” was the reply. “But my friend is modest, and at his request I will speak for us both.”

  “Good!” ejaculated Nalig-Nad. “Sit down, my brothers; kings must not stand in my presence.”

  They sat upon a bench, and Nux, thinking this the right time to be impressive, got out a big cigar and lighted it, having offered another to the king, who promptly refused it.

  “Why are you here to honor me with your presence?” was the next question, quietly put.

  “In our magic travelling machine we are making a trip around the world,” began Bryonia, in a bombastic tone. They were speaking in the native dialect, which I clearly understood; and I must say that my men expressed themselves much better in that than they did in English.

  The king took a bit of green chalk from his pocket and made a mark upon the bench beside him.

  “Where did you get your white slaves?” he enquired.

  “They were shipwrecked upon the island which we rule, and we made them our slaves,” said Bry.

  The king made a second chalk mark.

  “And where did you get the magic machine for travelling upon both land and water?” It was evident he had been well informed of our movements.

  “It was made for us by a wizard of our island,” said Bry.

  “What island?”

  “Tayakoo.”

  A third chalk mark.

  “Does it belong to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Another mark.

  “And now,” said the king, looking at them curiously, “tell me what request you have to make.”

  “A request?”

  “Yes; you asked to see the King of the San Blas. Then you wish something. I am the King.”

  Bryonia hesitated.

/>   “We wish to see all things,” said he, slowly, “and so we crave permission to visit the different parts of your country, that we may observe what it is like.”

  “Just as a matter of curiosity?”

  “Of course, my brother.”

  A chalk mark.

  “Do you love gold?” asked the king, abruptly.

  “No, we do not care for gold.”

  “Not at all?”

  “Not in the least.”

  The chalk mark again.

  “Nor the white pebbles?” looking at them shrewdly.

  “We care for no pebbles at all, white or black,” asserted Bry, beginning to grow uneasy.

  The king made another mark, and then slowly counted them.

  “Seven lies!” he announced, shaking his head gravely. “My brother is not honest with me. Otherwise there would be no lies.”

  Nux put the wrong end of the cigar in his mouth, and begun to splutter and make faces. Bryonia looked at the king, stern and indignant.

  “Do you judge us by the whites?” he cried.

  “No; I have found that the whites are quick to acknowledge their love of gold.”

  “If you were in my country,” said Bry, proudly, “I would not insult my brother king.”

  “What would you do if I lied to you?” asked Nalig-Nad, quickly.

  “You would not lie,” declared Bry. “Kings do not lie to each other — unless they are white.”

  I wanted to yell “bravo!” the retort was so cleverly put. The king seemed pleased, and became thoughtful, stroking the little boy’s hair gently while the girl rested her pretty head against his broad bosom.

  “The Techlas have reason to hate the whites,” he said, with a keen glance at me. “They drove us from our old home, because they wanted to rob us of our gold, which we loved only because it was beautiful. They were cruel and unjust, and lied to us, and had no faith nor honesty. So we fled; but we swore to hate them forever, and to be cruel and unjust to them, in turn, whenever they fell into our hands.”

  “I do not blame your people,” declared Bry, stoutly.