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Atta (1953) by Francis Rufus Bellamy

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by Atta (pdf)


  interest of his was a most remarkable thing. It must be

  ascribed, I suppose, to a kind of unrecognized gratitude

  for my having saved his life. For otherwise he never mentioned this obvious fact until fate finally brought it out into the open; and I am sure that during all the time we

  lived in the wooden hut he never fully realized the birth

  in him of a new and, in his society, unconventional feeling.

  X

  Meanwhile his warning brought back to me in full tide

  the recollection of my encounter with the squat monster

  on the plateau, and ibis alone was enough to make clear

  to me that the greatest ingenuity was going to be needed

  if I were to survive; particularly if my new companion

  left me or if I endeavored to accompany him on his de­

  A T T A

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  ferred journey home. Even on such a journey a heavy

  lance would present a drawback; for with it I should

  always have to fight at close quarters, and one glance at

  Atta’s burnished armor and powerful arms showed that

  at close quarters I should stand little chance against what

  he called savages, if I should ever lose my weapon at the

  outset. What I obviously needed was a good repeating

  rifle and a thousand rounds of ammunition, or, lacking

  this, a bow and arrows, an ax or at least a sharp club.

  All three of these admittedly primitive weapons presented themselves to me for consideration; and so I was reminded of my almost forgotten find of the black rope

  on the plateau. For it had occurred to me that its strands

  were of precisely the kind from which to string a bow.

  There was even the possibility that certain lengths of it,

  unraveled, might make a presentable lasso, in the throwing of which I still had a boyish knack. Sharp rocks or stones, which would be necessary if I wanted arrowheads

  or a decent hatchet or ax, seemed to be wholly lacking in

  our surrounding desert jungle; but certainly on the plateau or at the foot of the cliffs in the valley, sharp rock could be found.

  In this view Atta concurred after a while. For a time

  I had a little difficulty in explaining what weapons I had

  in mind, but once he got the idea he agreed with me

  completely—he was keenly interested in all the fine points

  of fighting—and in the end he listened with the greatest

  attention and approval while I demonstrated what could

  be done with an ax or a bow and arrow. For my unarmed

  condition had finally begun to weigh on him, and to my

  surprise it was evident that he was genuinely concerned.

  Indeed, I do not think it an exaggeration to say that

  when finally we set out for the rocky plateau where I

  had found my lance there was already something that

  amounted almost to friendship between us. Atta’s leg was

  nearly healed, and its improvement seemed to induce in

  him a plethora of good spirits that was almost boyish.

  Occasionally he rushed ahead at great speed under pre­

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  A T T A

  tence of showing me how quickly enemies could come

  upon us. At other times he insisted on carrying the lance,

  and he did it with an ease that put me to shame. Once

  in a while he even suggested with mock solicitude that

  he carry me and thus conserve my strength. But underneath it all was an almost open acknowledgment of comradeship, an admission that our original reservations regarding each other had begun to fade, and that if the truth were said we were not far from being genuine

  friends.

  As for the journey itself, it took us the better part of

  four hours to arrive at the cliffs, as I remember, and since

  we did not get started until long after dawn, the sun was

  by that time almost directly overhead—a circumstance

  that in Atta’s judgment called for a siesta, this being the

  habit of his race. My metal shelter was as hot as a

  griddle, however—a discovery that somewhat alleviated

  the regret I still felt over having had to leave it—and

  after examining the length of black rope that still lay

  just where I had left it, we proceeded to look for some

  other place to rest.

  This I was loath to do, for I felt an irresistible desire to

  stare endlessly at this valley where I had first recovered

  consciousness. But Atta soon found a cool ravine in the

  rock, a deep cleft at the bottom of which something lay

  glistening beside the rock walls, and nothing would do

  but we must examine it.

  “Water again, I suppose,” I said ironically, remembering my experience with the globule in the tree cleft.

  But it was not water, Atta insisted, despite the fact that

  the rays of the sun were reflected from it. It was some

  other material.

  “Well, we can’t get down to it, anyway,” I said, “without going back to die head of the ravine.” For the wall of the cleft below us was smooth and nearly perpendicular—

  a drop of nearly a hundred feet. “Do you have to have a

  siesta?” I demanded.

  His only answer was to look over the edge, try it with

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  his forearms, and then, without any further preamble,

  launch himself down the steep leaning wall. To my

  amazement he ran down it as easily as if he were a football player on the gridiron, “Come on!” he shouted to me from the bottom, and began excitedly tugging at the

  shining material that had first attracted our attention.

  For a moment I had an impulse to try to emulate his

  feat. But common sense prevailed, and I waited a little

  shamefacedly for him to climb up the slope again, as he

  did very easily a few seconds later, bringing with him a

  piece of the shining stuff. It rang or clacked as he flung it

  down triumphantly at my feet.

  “Why, it looks like coarse glass!” I exclaimed, picking

  up the glistening splinter and examining it. “How much

  of it is there?”

  There was a great deal of it, he told me, of various

  sizes, part buried under rubbish, part out in the open but

  so dirty that it did not shine.

  “It’s just what I want,” I said with some excitement

  of my own. “It’s just coarse enough and sharp enough.”

  Indeed, glass or not, it had a sharpness and a texture

  that rock could never equal. As material for either arrowheads or axes it was perfect, provided that pieces of the right size with sharp edges could be found. Arrows so

  tipped or an ax thus bladed would be far more likely to

  penetrate the hard armor of any creature I might encounter than any mere sharpened bit of stone.

  “I’ll go up to the head of the -ravine and come down,”

  I said. “You can run down and wait for me if you like.”

  “I can carry you down,” he offered. “Though of course,”

  he admitted doubtfully, “I might drop you.”

  “It could break every bone in my body,” I retorted. “I’ll

  get down my own way,”

  He started to protest at this, but I insisted, and we

  ended by walking together to the top of the. ravine and

  threading our way down its increasing depths—a journey

  that he insisted on sharing. It would be unwise for us to

  separate even for a moment, he said; we were in the
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  A T T A

  heart of a hostile country. We made our way down the

  rocky incline and soon reached the bottom without mishap. Then it was a mere matter of a few hundred yards to the place'where the great jagged crystals were lying

  strewn about on the ground.

  Many of them were too large to be moved; one in

  particular, a great sheet a foot thick and twenty feet high,

  which lay leaning against the ravine wall at a slight

  angle. I asked Atta sardonically if he could walk up this;

  he tried several times, but slipped back at each attempt,

  not being able to gain a foothold on the polished surface.

  I may mention here that I laughed heartily. But this was

  the only substance I ever found on which he could not

  climb with ease; he even had the ability to grasp things

  so tightly with his feet that he afterward showed me how

  he could walk upside down on the ceiling of our house.

  He did this with perfect speed and co-ordination, and he

  demonstrated his gift not once but many times without

  a single fall.

  We hunted about among the rocks in the ravine for

  several hours, and I was fortunate enough to find eleven

  splinters that would do for arrowheads, as well as half a

  dozen larger, irregular pieces ranging in size up to a

  dinner plate. These had thin curved edges and were

  sharp as razors, and I conceived that they would make

  excellent ax heads or sharpening tools. But my best find

  of all was a strangely shaped piece a foot and a half long,

  narrow and tapering at one end and spreading at the

  other into an almost square head with a sharp cutting

  edge and a kind of spike on it. Set in a cloven stick and

  bound with some of the strands of rope on the plateau

  above us, this piece, I saw ^t once, would make a very

  serviceable ax—not only an extremely useful tool in any

  wilderness, but a formidable weapon as well. I little

  thought that I was so soon to find a use for it.

  All this time we had been searching among the crystals

  and kicking the rubbish aside, and we had paid little

  attention to our actual situation, down in a deep ravine

  A T T A

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  with only a narrow exit at the top and its lower end a

  mere rocky ledge overhanging the still deeper jungle

  valley below. All this had rather belatedly occurred' to

  me as I began stuffing the arrowheads into my pockets

  and wondering how we could transport the rest of the

  treasure! Now, at a sudden sound, I raised my head.

  At the upper end of the ravine four antlike savages had

  appeared and were threading their way down in single

  file. Smaller in build than Atta, they were clad in black

  armor that shone under the overhead sun, and there was

  a kind of quick eagerness about them that I did not like

  at all.

  Atta must have seen them almost at the same instant,

  for he tapped me urgently on the shoulder and half

  pushed, half crowded me behind a large boulder that

  lay against the ravine wall. Here we crouched for a moment, a good ten feet from my lance, which lay out in the open.

  There was no escape, Atta said in a low tone. We

  should have to fight if they came all the way down. The

  only question was, how?

  It was all I could do to keep myself from rushing out

  and securing my lance as a first step. But I restrained myself and in hurried whispers suggested a plan of action.

  I was to remain hidden behind the boulder while Atta

  emerged, went to the far side of the ravine, and retreated

  toward the rocky ledge. This I counted on to lure our

  enemies past the boulder and my lance. At the proper

  moment, then, Atta was to turn and show fight, and the

  instant they fell upon him I was to rush forth to his assistance, snatch up my lance, and attack them in the rear.

  Not only did it seem to me that my strange appearance

  would terrify the savages, but they would also be wholly

  unprepared for an assault from behind, and I ought to

  be able to despatch at least two before they knew what

  had hit them. At any rate this was our plan, and since it

  was in nearly all respects my own suggestion—Atta dis­

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  A T T A

  played a singular irritation with it, for reasons which I

  understood later—I was very much pleased indeed.

  Meanwhile our four antagonists were coming down the

  ravine with almost audible exclamations of surprise over

  the shining crystals below the cliff, and in a matter of

  moments they were nearly abreast of our boulder. Without further hesitation Atta gave a shout and dashed out and across the ravine to the crystals, where he assumed

  a threatening attitude and then, as the four drew together into a closely knit group, began slowly to give ground and retreat.

  This action seemed to arouse what I can only call

  sneers among the black-armored warriors. But it served

  to concentrate all their attention on their one antagonist.

  Not one of them turned around or gave the slightest indication that my boulder held any interest for them.

  They saw Atta well enough, however, as their actions

  attested. Indeed, I scarcely had time to get out into the

  open and snatch up my lance before they were upon him,

  crowding him backward, seeking to seize his arms and

  tear him with their cruel saw-toothed jaws.

  Already, however, f had my lance braced under my

  right arm in the manner of the knights of old, and before

  our four enemies could accomplish anything I was upon

  them. The one nearest me was on the right, and him I

  charged. He saw me and tried to turn around and fight.

  But before he could get in position I was upon him; the

  point of the lance struck him full in the neck and transfixed him, and he fell writhing to the ground, carrying the lance with him.

  Meanwhile the others were still advancing on Atta. But

  the sight of their companion felled by a strange weapon

  made one of them turn to see what was happening, and

  before I could lean down and recover my lance I was

  confronted with a second antagonist. He took just one

  look at his slain comrade still holding die lance in his

  death grip and then advanced murderously upon me.

  It was a most desperate moment. For my bare hands,

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  43

  I knew* were useless in a fight with a foe so well armed

  and protected. Then I remembered the crystal ax head

  that I had just found by the boulder. Without hesitation

  I turned and ran back, the black stranger close on my

  heels. Just what I intended to do once I secured the sharp

  crystal, I had no idea; the whole action was reflex. But

  I knew this one jagged piece was a weapon that, even

  in its rough form, I should not care to face. And fortunately I ran fast enough to get to it in time. My pursuer was very close behind me; so close, I surmise, that he

  could not have stopped and evaded me even if he had

  realized what I was going to do. But I still had that

  invaluable three-second lead on him, and this it was that

  saved me.

  Wi
thout even looking back I leaned down at the boulder, snatched up the heavy crystal beside it, and, turning swiftly, brought the heavy end down with terrific force squarely on the top of my enemy’s shining head.

  His dome crushed like an eggshell. He sank to the ground.

  It was all over. I leaned against the boulder, panting, perspiring, and with too strange a weak feeling at the pit of my stomach even to look and see if Atta were still alive.

  He was. He was coming cheerfully and nonchalantly

  up the ravine, dusting his forearms.

  “What has become of the others?” I asked hoarsely.

  He tapped me all over with his feelers as if to assure

  himself that I had sustained no injury. Then he said dryly:

  “All disposed of. The wounded one I let get away. The

  other I slew in fair fight.” And he began burnishing his

  brown armor as calmly as if nothing had happened.

  “Well, I’m glad the plan worked,” I said faintly.

  “I didn’t like it,” he said frankly. “Did you hear what

  they called me? A coward!”

  ' And with that he began rather glumly gathering up the

  rest of the pieces of crystal and preparing to depart. Indeed, for the rest of the afternoon I could hardly induce him to discuss the fight or anything else. We tore loose

  some strands from the black rope; with these we bound

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  A T T A

  up our big pieces of crystal, and I carried the bundle

  along on my lance. Atta took charge of the rope and all

  alone carried and dragged it the entire distance to our

  house—a matter of some sixteen miles, I should judge, and

  all through the desert jungle. But of the fight he said no

  more, a happenstance that was just as well. For I myself

  had had a bad fright, and my nerves had been badly

  shaken—a fact that I was reluctant to admit in the face of

  his evident nonchalance.

  It was well that I did not admit it; for such a confession

  would have branded me inevitably as a coward in Atta’s

  eyes, and to him, I found later, cowardice was the one

  deadly sin. So afraid of its stigma were all his countrymen that through an excess of bravery they often seriously and unnecessarily endangered their lives. For they were possessed of many admirable qualities, but

 

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