CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE ARROW-MAKER
WE WERE UP and stirring early, and after a good breakfast and a draught of cool water from a sparkling brook near by, we started again in search of the valley of diamonds.
An hour’s swift run brought us to the slight depression in which stood the great block of red granite we had so eagerly sought. There was no mistaking it, as the German had said; curiously enough, it was the only granite boulder we had seen in this country.
A long, horizontal spike of rock near the apex pointed unerringly into the near-by forest, and I dismounted and walked from the boulder slowly in the direction indicated by the guide.
Sure enough, on reaching the forest I found myself confronting a gigantic mahogany tree, standing a little in advance of its fellows; so with a shout of joy I beckoned to my comrades and waited for them to join me. Duncan ran the automobile close up to the edge of the wood, and then stopped the engines and closed the door of the dome so that we could all take part in the discovery of the diamonds.
Entering the forest, which was quite open and clear at this one spot, we had no difficulty in finding the dead stump, and then I fell upon my knees and began to remove the thick moss that clung to the ground all around the stump.
I was scarcely more excited than the others — if I may except the princess, to whom treasure had no meaning. Moit, Nux and Bry were all bending over me, while in the background the Indian maiden watched us with a plaintive smile. To her this anxiety to secure a collection of pebbles was not quite comprehensible.
At first the moss resisted my efforts. Then, as I moved farther around, a great patch of the growth suddenly gave way to my grasp and disclosed a large cavity between two prongs of the stump.
I leaned over to look. Then I thrust in my arm to make sure.
The cavity was empty.
“Try somewhere else!” cried Moit, hoarsely. He had risked a good deal for the gems which were to enable him to become famous and wealthy, and this disappointment was sufficient to fill his heart with despair, had he not found another treasure in Ilalah which might somewhat mitigate this baffling failure.
I worked all around the stump, digging up the moss with my knife and finger-nails; but in every other place the ground was solid. There was but this one vacant cavity, and when at last we knew the truth we stared at each other in absolute dejection.
“He must have put them there, though,” I said, hopelessly. “The trouble is that someone else has taken them away.”
“Oh, yes; I did it,” said a strange voice at our side.
I turned and found a tiny Indian standing near us. At first I thought it was a child, but looking more closely perceived the lines of age on his thin face and streaks of gray in his hair. Yet so small was his stature that he was no taller than my breast.
He wore the ordinary San Blas tunic, striped with purple and yellow, a narrow band of green showing between the two plebeian colors. When first we saw him he had assumed a dignified pose and with folded arms was looking upon us with a calm and thoughtful countenance.
“Greetings, Tcharn!” exclaimed the princess, in a pleased and kindly tone.
The dwarf, or liliputian, or whatever he might be, advanced to her with marked but somewhat timid respect and touched the fingers of his right hand to the fair brow she bent toward him. Then he retreated a pace and laid his hand upon his heart.
“My Princess is welcome to my forest,” he said in his native tongue.
“Is it near here, then, that you live, my Tcharn?” she enquired.
“Very near, my Princess.”
“But tell us,” I cried, unable to control myself longer, “did you find many of the white pebbles in this cavity, and did you take them all away?”
“Yes,” he answered readily, with a nod of his small head; “I found them and I took them away, and they were many.”
“But why did you take them?” asked the girl, who, without knowing the value to us of the stones, was able to sympathize with us in our bitter disappointment.
Tcharn was thoughtful. He sat upon the stump and for a moment studied the various faces turned toward him.
“Some time ago,” said he, “a white man came to this valley, which our laws forbid the whites to enter. Perhaps he did not know that I rule the forest which is my home — that I am the Master Workman of the Techla nation. Why should he know that? But the white beast was well aware that his race is by us hated and detested” — here he cast a sinister glance at Duncan and myself — ”and barred from our domain. He sneaked in like a jackal, hiding himself by day while by night he prowled around upon all fours, gathering from off the ground the pebbles which our master the king has forbidden any man to see or to touch.
“Day after day I watched the white man at his unlawful toil. I sent tidings to Nalig-Nad, the king, who laughed at the cowardly intruder, and bade me continue to watch and to notify him if the beast tried to escape.
“Finally he saw my face among the trees, and it frightened him. He prepared to run away, and buried all the pebbles he had found under the moss beside this stump. Then he slunk from the valley and I let him go; for the king had been notified and would look after him.”
This relation proved to us the honesty of the German’s story. We knew well the rest of the tragic tale, and were just then more deeply interested in the loss of the diamonds.
“Why did you dig up the pebbles, when the commands of your king forbade you to touch them?” I asked, in a bitter tone.
The little Indian gave me a scornful look and said to Ilalah:
“Must I answer the white child, my Princess?”
“It will please me to have you do so,” she answered. “I must tell you, Tcharn, that these white people are my friends. Those who love me will also befriend them, and treat them kindly.”
For a time the dwarf stood motionless, frowning and staring stolidly upon the ground. Then he looked up and said:
“Does Nalig-Nad also love these whites?”
“He hates them, and seeks their destruction,” Ilalah replied.
The dwarf smiled.
“Then they will be destroyed,” he prophesied.
“Not so, my Tcharn,” replied the princess, gently. “The power of these white chieftains is greater than the power of Nalig-Nad.”
Tcharn grew thoughtful again.
“I saw them approach in a moving house, that seemed alive and yet was not,” he remarked.
“That is but one proof of their might,” said she.
“And is my Princess now opposed to her father the King?”
“Yes, Tcharn, in this one thing.”
“Then,” said he, “I will stand by your side, for my blood is the blood of your dead mother, and not the blood of Nalig-Nad.”
“But the pebbles!” I cried, impatiently. “Tell us what you have done with them.”
He turned his sombre eyes in my direction.
“I carried the pebbles to my own dwelling,” he returned. “They are beautiful, and when the sun kisses them they borrow its light and glow like fireflies at dusk. I love the pebbles; so I took them, and they are mine.”
This was exasperating to a degree.
“You had no right to do that,” I protested. “Your king has forbidden you to gather the pebbles.”
“I did not gather them; I but took them from the place where the white jackal had placed them.”
“The king will punish you for keeping them!”
“The king? Ah, the king will not know. And we are opposed to the king just now, the Princess Ilalah and myself,” with a queer smile. “But you are strangers, and therefore you do not know that in my forest even Nalig-Nad dare not molest the Master Workman.”
The last words were spoken confidently, and his prompt defiance of the king pleased me.
“Who is this man, Ilalah?” asked Duncan.
“Tcharn is my mother’s cousin,” she replied, with frankness, “and in my mother’s veins flowed the most royal blood
of our great ancestors. For this reason Tcharn is a person of consequence among my people. He is called the Arrow-Maker, and forges all the arrow-heads that the Techlas use. No one else is allowed to work in metals, which Tcharn brings from the mountains. In this forest — I do not know exactly where — is his secret work-shop and his dwelling place. Only one thing is forbidden him, under penalty of torture and death: to gather or use the loathsome gold which was at one time the curse of the Techlas. In all else Tcharn is master of the forest, and the people honor and avoid him.”
An important individual, truly, and one who doubtless realized his own importance. Since he had secured the diamonds and loved their beauty it would be difficult to wrest them from him.
While the princess had spoken the little Techla had been regarding her with an uneasy look.
“I see trouble in Ilalah’s path,” he now remarked gravely.
“Am I not the princess?” she asked, proudly.
“You are the princess, and one day you will succeed your father as ruler of the Techlas — if you live. If you do not live, Nalig-Nad’s children by another mother will succeed him. Will you live, Ilalah — you who defy the traditional hatred of your race for the cursed white people?”
Ilalah flushed a little, but not with fear. She wanted Tcharn to understand her, though, and began to tell him how the white people had for many ages dominated the world beyond the seas, where they had many distinct nations that warred with each other. Some of the white nations were strong, and just, and wise; others were strong, but wicked and unjust. It was one of these latter nations, she explained, whose people were known as Spaniards, that had invaded the country of her forefathers and robbed and oppressed them; therefore the Techlas, knowing no better, had hated all of the white nations instead of that especial one that had wronged them.
“These friends,” she added, pointing to us, “have never injured us, nor have their people, who have themselves warred with the Spaniards, our old and hated enemies. Why then, should I condemn and hate the innocent?”
The dwarf listened carefully to this explanation, and without answering her appeal he said, in a doubtful tone:
“The chiefs who rule the islands and the coast, all of whom trade with the whites, have told me they are all alike. They are never satisfied, but always want something that belongs to others.” I laughed at his shrewd observation, for that was our case, just then. We wanted the diamonds.
“Will you not permit us to see the beautiful pebbles?” I asked. Tcharn hesitated.
“Will you let me see your moving house?” he demanded.
I nearly yelled with delight. I had been searching my brain for some way to win this strange personage to our side, and he promptly put himself in our hands by acknowledging his curiosity concerning our machine. But this proved his intelligence, too, and betrayed his mechanical instinct, so that it increased our respect for him.
“We will explain to you our moving house, which is the most wonderful thing ever made by the hands of man,” I answered, seriously, “and we will also take you to ride in it, that you may know how and why it moves. But in return you must take us to your dwelling and show us the pebbles.”
I was rather surprised that he consented readily.
“It is a bargain,” said he, quietly, and Ilalah whispered that his word might be depended upon.
So we all walked out of the forest to where we had left the car, which Tcharn first examined from the outside with minute intentness.
“Here is a man who might steal my patents, if he lived in our world,” remarked the inventor, with a smile. But as there was no danger to be apprehended Moit took pains to explain to the dwarf how the machine would float and move in the water as well as travel upon the land, and then he took the little Indian inside and showed him all the complicated mechanism and the arrangements for promoting the comfort and convenience of the passengers.
Tcharn listened with absorbed interest, and if he failed to comprehend some of the technical terms — which is very probable, as I was obliged to translate most of the description and there were no words in the native language to express mechanical terms — he allowed neither word nor look to indicate the fact.
Afterward Moit started the car and gave the arrow-maker an impressive ride around the valley, gradually increasing the speed until we very nearly flew over the ground.
When, at last, we came to a halt at the forest’s edge, it was evident we had won the dwarf completely. His face was full of animation and delight, and he proceeded to touch each of our foreheads, and then his own heart, to indicate that we were henceforth friends.
“We will ride into the forest,” he said. “I will show you the way.”
It suited us very well to hide the machine among the trees, for we might expect the natives to search for us and give us further annoyance. But we failed to understand how the big machine might be guided into the tangled forest.
Tcharn, however, knew intimately every tree and shrub. He directed Moit to a place where we passed between two giant mahoganies, after which a sharp turn disclosed an avenue which led in devious windings quite a distance into the wood. Sometimes we barely grazed a tree-trunk on either side or tore away a mass of clinging vines or dodged, by a hair’s breadth, a jagged stump; and, after all, our journey was not a great way from the edge of the forest and we were soon compelled to halt for lack of a roadway.
“The rest of the distance we will walk,” announced the dwarf. “Follow me, if you will.”
I shall never forget the impressiveness of this magnificent forest. The world and its glaring sunlight were shut out. Around our feet was a rank growth of matted vines, delicate ferns and splendid mosses. We stood in shadowland, a kingdom of mystery and silence. The foliage was of such dainty tracery that only in the deep seas can its equal be found, and wonderful butterflies winged their way between the tender plants, looking like dim ghosts of their gorgeous fellows in the outer world. Here was a vast colonade, the straight, slender, gray tree-trunks supporting a massive roof of green whose outer branches alone greeted the sun. Festooned from the upright columns were tangled draperies of climbing vines which here rested in deep shadow and there glowed with a stray beam of brilliant sunshine that slyly crept through the roof. And ever, as we pressed on, new beauties and transformations were disclosed in the forest’s mysterious depths, until the conviction that here must be the favorite retreat of elfins and fays was dreamily impressed upon our awed minds.
But almost before we were aware of it we came to a clearing, a circular place in the wood where great trees shot their branches into the sky and struggled to bridge the intervening space with their foliage. The vain attempt left a patch of clear sky visible, although the entire enclosure was more than half roofed with leaves.
Instead of mosses and vines, a grassy sward carpeted the place, and now we came upon visible evidence that we had reached the abode of the little arrow-maker.
On one side was a rude forge, built of clay, and supporting a bellows. In a basket beside the forge were hundreds of arrow-points most cleverly fashioned of bronze, while heaps of fagots and bars of metal showed that the dwarf’s daily occupation was seldom neglected.
The tools strewn about interested me greatly, for many were evidently of American or European make; but Tcharn explained this by saying that his people often traded their cocoanuts and skins for tools and cutlery, and at these times he was allowed to select from the store such things as he required.
“But where do you live?” asked Moit; “and where are the pebbles?”
“Come,” said the arrow-maker, briefly, and led us across the glade and through a little avenue where there was a well trodden path.
A moment later a mass of interwoven boughs covered with vines confronted us, and stooping our heads we passed through a low archway into wonderland.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A WOODLAND WONDERLAND
WHAT WE SAW was a circular chamber formed of tree-trunks at the sides and roofed
with masses of green leaves. The central trees had been cleared away by some means, for a large mahogany stump was used for a table and its beautifully polished surface proclaimed that it had been a live tree when sawed through. Also there were several seats formed from stumps in various parts of the room, and one or two benches and a couch had been manufactured very cleverly from polished mahogany wood.
But these were by no means the chief wonder of the place. The walls were thickly covered with climbing vines, which reached in graceful festoons to the overhanging central boughs; but these were all the creation of man rather than of nature, for they were formed from virgin gold.
Also the ornaments scattered about the place, the mountings of the furniture, swinging lamps and tabourettes, all were of gold, and never have I beheld the equal of their exquisite workmanship or unique designing. The tracery of every leaf of the golden bower imitated accurately nature itself, the veins and stems being so perfect as to cause one to marvel. Not only had a vast amount of pure gold been used in this work, but years must have been consumed in its execution.
“Oh, Tcharn!” cried Ilalah, in a shocked tone, as soon as she had recovered from the wonder of her first look; “you have broken the law!”
“It is true,” answered the arrow-maker, calmly.
“Why did you do it?” she asked.
“The yellow metal is very beautiful,” said he, looking upon the golden bower with loving eyes; “and it is soft, and easy to work into many pretty forms. Years ago, when I began to gather the metal for my arrows and spears, I found in our mountains much of the forbidden gold, and it cried out to me to take it and love it, and I could not resist. So I brought it here, where no white man could ever see it and where not even your father was likely to come and charge me with my crime. My princess, you and your friends are the first to know my secret, and it is safe in your care because you are yourself breaking the law and defying the king.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 663
