Iron Maiden

by Jim Musgrave

  Sinclair put the book down on the dining table. "So, you see, gentlemen. I will train my young prince to become the victorious Bird Man. And, as to your republic? I believe the Fainga have answered this question quite nicely. The old prince has been banished from power, and the power lives on in Orongo, with the Bird Man religion. I shall endeavor to continue this tradition of power and my new prince will help me secure it."

  After this exchange, Chip decided to commit to a vigorous regimen of training under Captain Sinclair to get into shape for the Bird Man competition. He still did not trust Ericsson and Greene because of their use of the Gatling gun to frighten the natives, and the prospect of becoming the "prince" of the island was quite attractive to him. The religion based on youth and strength was quite appealing to Chip, and he saw the contest as a great opportunity to gain favor amongst these white people who had seen him as a lowly former slave and ship's orderly. He only wished his father were there to see him train. It would have made him quite proud.

  Captain Sinclair instructed Chip to go on a diet of protein to increase his strength. He also put him on a rigorous exercise routine that included running, lifting, and swimming. Sinclair told Chip he would tell him some of the secrets he had learned from the natives in Orongo. However, he would save this information until just before the competition. "I don't trust those others," said Sinclair, "if I told you now, they might find some way to get the knowledge out of you." Even though Chip assured him that he would never divulge such secrets, Sinclair remained steadfast. "In due time, my boy. In due time. Fact of the matter is how am I going to be able to trust you?"

  As the days progressed, Chip began running all over the island. He enjoyed the freedom it gave him, the pulsing rhythm of the earth beneath his feet, the throbbing of blood through his system, and the joy of learning that his body could be put to such a trial. Gradually, the more he ran and swam, he felt his strength increase, and his lungs expand, until he began to believe he could win the contest. It was a joyful feeling that gave him a hearty appetite, and Captain Sinclair provided him with a bountiful supply of meat and potatoes from his ship. It would soon be time to test his abilities, and Chip began conditioning himself for the mental effort it would require. He believed if he thought of himself as a prince it would justify his victory. Sinclair explained to him that he would be able to run the island in any way he wished, and, he whispered, in a conspiratorial tone, "You'll get your choice of the ladies in Orongo!" The thought of having such a chance to be in such a powerful position gave Chip's demeanor an added gusto. He whistled, he made jokes, and he took long baths in the water near the ship, imagining he was the prince of Easter Island. It was quite a grand vision, and Chip shared his vision with the Priest, Father Perez. Together, they discussed a new plan based on what the priest knew about the rongo-rongo tablets. The real adventure was soon to be upon them all.

  * * *

  King Maurata stood at the top of the Rano Cao volcano in the village of Orongo. He held up his spear, ready to drop it for the start of the Bird Man race. Around him, the villagers were whooping it up and dancing all around the fifteen men, who were lined up at the starting line, ready to begin. No other member of the king's clan was allowed, although the Americans were present to see the competition. The women from America were quite shocked by the nakedness of the other females, except for Penelope Sinclair, the wife of Walter Sinclair. She was imagining herself dancing in front of Dana Greene, who looked strong and handsome as he stood near the end of the line of male competitors.

  The only other American to compete besides Lieutenant Greene was Chip Jefferson. The young lad was in outstanding shape, as Sinclair had drilled him—almost constantly—since the competition had been announced. Sinclair knew his only chance to take over the island was riding on this young man's strong shoulders. As the Bird Man, he would be able to confiscate the weapons of Ericsson and Greene and put them into his ship's armory. He could also keep the rest of the Americans under control so he could begin his new regime. The young Chip, of course, would be offered up as a sacrifice after he served his purpose, and Sinclair would begin his plan to ethnically cleanse the island of its dark-skinned, inferior races.

  As Chip stood at his place at the beginning of the race, he looked down the row of men who were also competing. There were thirteen strong island men and Mr. Greene, of course, and then there was he. He believed this was perhaps his only chance to become a respected member of this new society. He would no longer be the former Southern slave who fought for the Union back in America; he would be the Bird Man, and the entire island would have to do what he told them to do. The prospect of this power sent a chill down his spine, and he remembered the dream again, and then the old chief dropped the spear, and he was off!

  Since the goal of the race was to cross the dangerous waters of the sea between Easter Island and the tiny islands of Mutu Rau Kau and Muto Nui, it was Sinclair's plan to have Chip strike out for Muto Nui, the smaller of the two islands. To ward off shark attack, Sinclair had bathed the boy's body in dead shark oil. This was known by fishermen to be one of the best repellants ever used. In addition, Sinclair had taught the lad how to go down the cliffs with rapid decent by using a grappling hook and rope he had rigged up for the occasion. Chip wore it around his waist and he would extract it when the time came. This would likely add minutes to his time over the other men, even though they were more familiar with the terrain. In addition, Sinclair knew Ericsson and Greene would probably have a few tricks up their sleeves for the occasion, but he did not worry.

  Dana Greene watched the others compete from his place on the side of the cliff. It was a small cave that Ericsson and he had found earlier in the week. In it, he could see the progress of the contest without being seen, and he could use the spyglass Ericsson had given him. Ericsson and Greene did not care who won the event because they had the Gatling machine gun. If their agricultural plan did not impress the people, then they would resort to force. As Greene watched Chip Jefferson swim ahead of the others on his way out to the tiny island, he was happy for the young lad. If they could not win the war against the Rebels in America, then it would be a small but satisfying victory to see the young orderly become the Bird Man and show that his kind were quite capable of performing as well as any white man could. However, the Bird Man Cult would be civilized, and Chip would be the key to their new societal order.

  The egg of the Sooty Tern was now inside a pouch on Chip's waist. She had nipped at his finger, but he was able to extract the egg from the nest. He took one final look around him, gazing off into the vast stretch of ocean, wishing his father and mother could see him in his moment of triumph. Then, he plunged down the side of the island's cliff, taking great care not to hit his pouch against the rocks. When he hit the water, he swam with all his strength for the shore of Easter Island and his new title of Bird Man.

  Sinclair was thinking he would allow the colored lad his few moments of triumph. Perhaps he would even lose his virginity during a night of celebration. However, he would also keep him under close watch. Tomorrow, after the festivities and the coronation of the new Bird Man, Sinclair would begin his new plan to take over the island.

  Chip Jefferson ran across the finish line with the bird's egg, and he was declared the winner of the Bird Man competition. Orongo Village leaders lifted the lad onto their shoulders and carried him, to great fanfare, across the volcano, to the large communal hut of the Fainga Clan. The rest of the village, and the Americans, followed.

  Once they were all inside the communal hut, torch lights shone all over the stage where Chip was being given the wings of the Bird Man by the priest, Father Perez. Perez spoke to the gathered assembly in their own language, and there was some commotion. Sinclair wondered what this stir was about.

  Suddenly, all the white Americans were being captured by the Orongo warriors. Screaming and kicking, they were carted off into the night.

  After the arrests were made, Father Perez sat down beside the Bir
d Man, Chip Jefferson, on his stage of glory. Around them, naked Orongo women danced and cast lusting glances toward their new leader for the coming year.

  "What did you tell them?" Chip asked, knowing the answer, yet wanting to hear it in English. Father Perez did know how to speak English, although he never let Ericsson or Sinclair know this fact. In fact, it was Father Perez who had the most control over the island and its peoples because he was not a priest at all; he was an American scientist, Doctor John Garvey, from Harvard University. He spoke twelve languages, and he was, at one time, the head of the Department of Anthropology.

  "I told them I had deciphered their rongo-rongo tablets and that you were the black prince, the answer to all their prayers. They are now confining all the white people inside a prison down in the Maunga Terevaka volcano on the other side of the island. Tomorrow will mark the new year of the Black Bird Man. Each month, you will officially appease Meke-Meke by offering him a white person as a sacrifice. We will also start farming and using the tools of Ericsson to create a new, more vital civilization on Easter Island."

  Chip Jefferson, Black Bird Man of Easter Island, stood up, stretched out his feathered arms, and began to laugh. Below him, all the bronzed dancing women and the dark-skinned, warrior males, also began to laugh, until the communal hut was ringing with joy!

  Part IV: The Last Journals

  September 3, 1863 - September 30, 1863

  Chapter Fifty-Nine: Amelia Ericsson's Journal

  September 3, 1863

  We were dragged across the island into a dark tomb. Each of us was given a cell, etched into the side of the mountain, and this was to be our confinement forever, or so it seemed at that moment. We were given writing utensils on the second day, and I am now writing by the light from a torch affixed to the cavern's wall. We lived in complete darkness and intermittent light from the torches. We were able to shout to each other inside our separate cells, and this was the only way we could interact with our doleful reality.

  My husband, John, immediately confronted Captain Sinclair about our predicament. He found out that Sinclair had arranged with the priest, Father Perez, to train Chip Jefferson to win the Bird Man contest. However, it seems, the priest had decided to take the newly acquired power under his own control. Thus, we were thrown into prison cells with rats and insects too disgusting to imagine.

  My husband incessantly questioned Sinclair about what he had planned for his own control of the island, but Walter refused to confess. John said that if we were ever able to get out of this prison he would beat the information out of Sinclair, but the Captain just laughed and said we were fools.

  It was several days before I discovered what our tormentors had planned for us. Actually, we were all given a lecture by one who introduced himself as Professor Garvey, who had been previously portraying himself as the priest, Father Perez. He came into the cave one morning with a contingent of large male natives at his side. He spoke to us all using a megaphone apparatus of some sort that he had procured from our ship. He kept pacing back and forth in front of our cells as he delivered this sermon, looking inside, as if he were expecting us to respond to his brilliant wit.

  "You will now be serving the greater good. Your weapons have given us the protection we have been without, and for this we thank you. As has been ordained in our writings, the Black Bird Man has come, and each of you will serve a unique purpose under his rule. I shall not tell you the exact reason for your existence, only our God can do that, but you will know in due time how you will serve us. Thank you again for all you have brought to us. The future of our society will be that much better for it." Almost as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

  Of course, I do not have much contact with reality as it used to be, once the darkness falls, but when they came back to get me, I really had no idea what day it was. The others kept shouting at me concerning these things, especially my husband, but my mind took on a life of its own, and I began to fantasize about life back in England. However, my life in London did not involve human beings. Instead, I kept seeing different places and objects that I remembered from my life there. I could touch the chair in my parents' house where my father would sit of an evening and smoke his pipe. I was enthused with comfort as these objects were touched, and my life inside that prison was not as horrendous as it would have been otherwise.

  The rest of this journal will depict what happened to me after the day they came to get me. I have been told by authorities that my record could be used in legal proceedings, so I must tell as much of it as I can recollect with an attention to accuracy. My husband is the scientist, and I am not, so I beg the reader's forgiveness for my lapses into emotion, as it was quite an emotional ordeal.

  I was taken to a large hut on the top of the volcano where we had viewed the Bird Man contest days earlier. Six native women came into the room and began to dress me in scanty, yet colorful clothing. They also began to bathe my body in what felt and smelled like coconut oil, and one of the women painted my nails with a dark red polish of some sort. What came next was quite a painful experience, the recreation of which sends a chill throughout my person as I describe it. I was given some kind of alcoholic beverage, and then one woman brought in a bowl of black liquid and what looked to be a sharp seashell of some kind. As the others held me down, she began to drag the sharp end of this shell across the bare contour of my leg. I must have shrieked rather loudly because they began to laugh and pour me more liquor. Soon, I became quite intoxicated, and the pain receded.

  When I awoke the next morning I discovered that my legs had been inscribed with a fine, lace pattern beneath a reddened swelling on the sides of the lines. I could barely move my legs, they were so terribly sore. Three men came into my hut to get me. I was taken to another hut nearby where there were seven other women dressed for an occasion of some sort. I didn't know the full extent of this occasion until Professor Garvey came to explain it all.

  "You women are chosen to serve at the sacrificial ceremony. This is quite an honor, as the Black Bird Man will be in attendance, and he may perhaps choose one of you to be his concubine. If chosen, a concubine lives in the prince's hut and shares all the food and other pleasures of the chosen one. You will learn to dance, to entertain and to perform ritual duties for the day of the sacrifice."

  "What if I choose not to participate?" I asked, still not understanding that I was a virtual slave to this new "prince."

  "Choice is not of consequence from your perspective, my dear," said the priest, an obvious smirk on his lips. "To be chosen is the thing that matters!"

  I was not allowed contact with any of my fellow travelers, and I spent the rest of my days preparing for the first sacrificial offering. I knew in my subconscious that it would be one of our group who would be selected as scapegoat, perhaps even John, my husband, but the will to live kept me in line. I will continue to keep this journal and perhaps there will be a way out of this before it's too late for us all.

  Chapter Sixty: Charles McCord's Journal

  September 10, 1863

  All hell broke loose when we was inside the blasted stone hut at the Rano Cao volcano. I was already feeling trapped inside the confines of their communal monstrosity, when three of them bugbears grabbed me and put some kind of noxious rag over my face. I was straight away woozy, like I had me five pints 'o dark, and then, the next thing I knew, I found myself inside some kind of earthy jail. There were metal bars in front of me, and they wouldn't budge an inch when I tried to pry them, so I shouted out to see if they had the rest of us in there too. I soon learned all of us, except for the colored lad, Chip, were locked inside this cavernous mountain.

  It was soon that this wild man came into our prison and began shouting at us about how we was each going to serve the new Bird Man. I knew this was our Chip he was speaking about, and I wondered at the time why the lad would have us arrested, and that's when this crazy Dr. Garvey gave me these writing utensils. I must confess, with all the activity going on, I wasn't ke
eping any records in my journal. This now gives me a chance to tell what happened and what my fate may be in the coming days.

  On the fourth day, this Dr. Garvey came to get me. He was quite the chipper lad that morning, telling me I was going to serve a special duty for the new Bird Man and that I should be quite proud of my new responsibility. I was taken across the island to another cave, and inside, there was a locked room where three natives stood guard. These natives wore all kinds of bones on their bodies, and they were painted all over with the most outrageous designs and symbols. Some of these symbols were of a rather obscene nature. This Dr. Garvey then told me I was to be in charge of the distribution of all the medicines inside this chamber. "Medicines?" I asked him, not believing my ears. Did he not know that I had my own problems with medicines?

  "Yes, Mister McCord. These are the sacramental drugs that are taken during the sacrificial rites. We need someone to watch over these and be certain only the Shamans have access to them at the proper time."

  "Just what do these drugs do?" I asked, unable to contain a certain joy that flowered in my heart. This was the joy I had abandoned for several weeks, but it was once more knocking on the door of my brain like an old friend. However, in my case, one must take the "r" from "friend" to describe the true nature of the lurking beast within me.