Chapter XIII: The Berees Warriors Under Command of the Professor

“But you boys have not told me your names. I know yours is William, and you are James. Why, yes; I should not have forgotten James Redfield and William Rudel.”

“But we are only Will and Jim, you know,” and the Professor smiled at the earnestness of Will to be sure and give them the right designations.

Early that morning there was more or less commotion in the village and as Jim went out to investigate, several warriors appeared, but he was not able to get much information. They could be heard in the chief’s house, and soon enough was learned to assure them that the warriors in the field were having a bitter fight.

This was on the sixth day after the Professor had been brought to the village. “Can you learn with whom they are fighting?” asked the Professor.

Will went out and mingled with the crowd that now gathered about the chief’s quarters. On his return, he said: “It is a tribe to the east, called the Osagas.”

This news stirred the Professor into activity. “The Osagas! We must take a hand in this,” and he rushed out of the hut, and made his way to the chief. Calling him aside he stated that if he was at war with the Osagas, he might be able to effect a reconciliation, as he had befriended one of their chiefs, and then inquired if he knew Uraso, the chief.

At the mention of that name the chief started, and looked at the Professor keenly, before replying. This is what he replied, in substance:

“Uraso was the chief of the Osagas, but he was captured by some white people like yourselves, and offered up as a sacrifice by them. A new chief, his brother, called Krami, was now at the head of the tribe. If Uraso were still chief we would not have this trouble. They took the two white men away from us, and when we took the boys they determined to be revenged, and we have now been fighting for six weeks.”

“Did you take the boys from the Osagas?”

“No.”

This information tallied exactly with the news given Uraso when he was their captive, as to the men, and also explained that another tribe had the boys. Things were beginning to clear up.

During the evening of the sixth day, the warriors began to come in rapidly, with news of their defeat. In the hurried conversations and animated snatches of information which the boys could gather, the names of the Kurabus figured most prominently, and this led the Professor to inquire the facts more particularly from the chief.

The Professor gave the chief this information:

“We were on our way to see you, when we found ourselves opposed to the Kurabus and the Saboros, who attacked us. We tried to inform them of our peaceful intent, but they refused to listen to any proposals. We resisted them and during the night the two tribes attacked each other.

“We captured two of their wounded, and took them back with us to our home at the eastern end of the island, and on this trip brought them with us. We learned that one of them was the brother of the Saboro chief, whom we rescued from the Kurabus, nearly two weeks ago. The chief and another of his tribe are now with my friends, where your warriors captured me.”

“Was Muro the chief?” he inquired.

“Yes.”

“And he is my friend.”

Without making explanations of any sort, the chief summoned his warriors, and stated to them that the Professor was their friend, and had beaten the Kurabus, and that the act of taking the Professor from his friends was a wrongful act. He commanded them to follow the Professor, and be guided by his directions. Preparations were now made for the departure.

The Professor now plainly exhibited his delight, which, had it been shown in the presence of his boys, would have made them view him with wonder. The evening meal was brought in, and the boys, as well as the Professor on this occasion, sat at the ring around which the food was spread, and the first act of the Professor was to partake sparingly of the different things offered.

This was extremely gratifying to the chief, who showed that he appreciated it. During the meal the Professor said: “What do you know about the winds and the lightning and the thunder?”

The chief studied for a moment. “There is a great spirit that does those things. He is way up in that direction,” pointing to the north.

“But is it a good spirit?” asked the Professor.

“We do not know whether he is good or bad. Sometimes he will be bad to us and sometimes good.”

“Do you ever pray to him?”

“I do not understand what that means.”

“Don’t you ever ask him to help you?”

“That would not do any good. He is too big and too far away.”

“Did the Great Spirit make you?”

The chief opened his eyes, with the suggestion of a smile, as he replied: “No; how could he make beings like us? He is a spirit, and spirits do not make men.”

“Then how did you come on the island? Somebody must have made the first man.”

“No; man always was, and always will be.”

“But somebody must have made the first bow and arrow.”

“Yes; man made that.”

“If man made the first bow, then somebody must also have made man.”

“No; I do not understand it that way. Man did not make the trees. They grow from seeds or roots, and if there had been no seeds or roots there would have been no trees. Bows do not grow, they are made.”

Here was the savage philosophy.

“But if there is a great spirit, and you know that he makes the terrible winds and the lightnings and thunder, don’t you think he would help you if you should ask him?”

He mused for a while, and then answered slowly: “It would do no good, because if the Kurabus should pray to him at the same time we are praying to him, how would we know which side he would fight for? Sometimes we win, and sometimes they win, and the Great Spirit acts the same to everybody all the time.”

The boys could not help but smile at the character of this argument.

The Professor was not yet satisfied with the information as to his beliefs.

“Do not some of the tribes offer up sacrifices to the captives?”

“Yes; some do. But we do not believe in it.”

“Do the other tribes here believe about the great spirit the same as you do?”

“Yes; about the same.”

“Well, when they offer up sacrifices, what is that done for, or to whom are the sacrifices made?”

“Ah! there; you do not understand why, nor do we know. In each tribe are wise men, and they tell us that sometimes the Great Spirit asks for some sacrifice, and that when we have sickness it will make us well, and that we will be successful in battle, and we carry out the sayings of the wise men.”

“Isn’t that a kind of prayer to the Great Spirit?”

“Oh, no! In a prayer you only ask. In a sacrifice, you give. When you give something to a man it is different from asking him for something.”

The above conversation is given, not in the exact language of the chief, because that would have been impossible, and it is therefore translated and arranged so as to make it more readable.

In the morning the warriors were lined up, and the brother of the chief, whom he called Ralsea, was in the immediate charge of them. The chief gave explicit instructions as to their behavior, and that the good will of the white chief would be of the greatest service to them and their people.

The chief on this occasion showed the wonderful power over his tribe. He was advanced in years, and unable to take active part in their struggles, but his address impressed all of them, and when he finished all held up the right hand, and bowed to the earth, and the boys seeing the Professor do likewise they also made a like obeisance, an act they had witnessed many times before.

In the meantime, what were John and his party doing? They left the deceptive trail, and crossing the ridge, hurried rapidly along the uneven ground toward the east. If it had been an open plain this attempt at concealment would not have availed them.

Traveling along in the narrow gulches and contracted valleys, which trended, in a general way, to the east, their movements were concealed, and at midday they estimated that the distance from the battle-ground was fully eight miles.

Stopping only long enough to allow the cattle to feed, and taking their luncheon in the meantime, the yaks were turned to the south, in the effort to reach the border line of the territory occupied by the Saboros.

They were now compelled to go across the ridges, instead of following along the more easy route with the streams. This made exceedingly slow going, but it was far safer, as Muro advised them, and night came all too soon for them.

The utmost vigilance was exercised during the night, as stray bands might be upon them at any moment. Once out of the Kurabus’ territory, and they would be safe from attack.

“Isn’t it singular,” exclaimed Ralph, as they sat within the wagon that night, “what a small portion of the island is really inhabited by these people?”

“There is a very good reason for that,” answered John. “The continual warfare among the tribes prevents the spread of the population. Another thing also tends to keep it down. The people have no ambition; nothing to work for. The only thing is the primal one of self-preservation.”

“What a magnificent place this would be to promote,” suggested Blakely.

“What, promote it with all the savages here?” and Tom laughed at the idea.

“Yes, indeed; they would be just the fellows to use in the promotion.”

“What is there here to promote?” asked Ralph.

“What is there here? The finest wood in the world; and besides that the island is full of mineral, or I am much mistaken. But that isn’t all. This soil is as rich as any upon the Nile or the Amazon, and it is well watered. Why, this could be made a paradise.”

“Do you mean to raise things?”

“Why, certainly. Almost everything which grows in the tropics could be cultivated here.”

“But where would the natives come in?”

“To do the work, and in the doing of it, there would be a means to work out their own salvation.”

“What would they want to work for, anyhow?” asked Tom.

John laughed at the question. “I can understand your view-point. As it is, they have absolutely no need of work. They exist, and that is the whole philosophy of life with them.”

“Then how can you change it?”

“By making them want something else.”

“How can you do that?”

“Show them something they want, and you have started them on the right road.”

“Well, as it now is, they want something and go out with their bows and arrows and spears, and try to take it.”

“Quite true; they haven’t learned the first principle in the white man’s philosophy.”

“What is it?”

“The law of least resistance.”

“What does that mean?”

“Another way of expressing it is to say that we try to get things by the easiest and quickest methods. But there is another law which must also be instilled.”

“And what is that?”

“That property is sacred; and it necessarily follows that to acquire what is mine, requires something from you in return.”

“But I do not see how you are going to put any ideas of that kind in the minds of these devils.”

“I will answer that in this way: You have brought with you a number of little mirrors, and various trinkets. The savages value things of that kind immensely. In their present condition, the plan on which they work, is to take them by force. Suppose I should say to them: ‘Bring fifty pounds of ramie fiber, or twenty pounds of barley, or some game, and I will give you a mirror.’ Such a proposal would show him the easiest route, unless he was too infernally lazy, to get the coveted article.”

“But suppose he should say that he doesn’t want to buy it, and purposes to take it in his own way?”

“Then he must be made to understand, by forcible means, that there is only one way to get it, and that is by barter.”

On the following day the course did not improve; they were still on the ridge that separated the two rivers, one flowing to the north, and the other to the south. Before nine o’clock Muro came back with the intelligence that some band could be discerned directly ahead of them, and in the line of their travel.

To go southwest would bring them right into the heart of the Kurabus’ territory, and southwesterly of their position would bring them within range of the two hostile tribes. The band was still too far away to distinguish them. Muro hoped it was his own people, but this was not considered likely, since they had not sent any runners to inform Muro of the course they were taking.

Muro knew that this would be done in any event. Blakely asked: “May it not be possible that the messengers were sent in the direction of our wagon in the north?”

“I told him where we were going, and they would follow the wagon trail.”

Stut would know how to do this, and it was therefore likely that the band in sight was either the Kurabus or the Osagas. A strong position was selected for the erection of the portable fort, and this was concealed as well as possible by shrubbery, so that unless they came too close in their march it would be unnoticed.

Muro was far in advance when they came up, but having discovered the identity of the tribe, hurried back with the startling intelligence that they were the Brabos.

“Well, they have gone through the Kurabus country. What does all this mean?”

“I infer that they are making a raid on account of the absence of the Kurabus to the southwest,” answered John.

Fortunately, it was not a large party, but that was the more singular, and it was the perplexing part of the whole matter.

“It does not seem conceivable that less than two dozen of the Brabos should venture down here,

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unless they had some larger party somewhere near.”

John conferred with Muro, and he seemed to be puzzled at the new situation.

“We must fight these fellows, if they discover us, and overwhelm them. They must be scattered to the wind. It is our only alternative. Get the guns and ammunition ready, and give them volley after volley if they attempt to attack us in any way.” John was determined now.

Despite their efforts at concealment, the Brabos discovered the wagon, and without waiting for argument commenced the fight with bows and arrows.

“Now let them have it.”

The first volley was a fearful one in its effect. They halted in the rush, and turned to the east.

“Out, boys, and after them; take the extra guns, and follow them up.” With a shout the boys ran forward, ahead of Blakely and John, but Muro was, nevertheless, in the lead. Two who had been wounded at the fire, fell, and were soon overtaken.

“Don’t go over a half mile,” shouted John. It was useless to follow the fleet warriors. As they passed the fallen Brabos, both were found to be wounded in the legs, and to their surprise, begged to be taken to the wagon.

Muro spoke to them. John interpreted their appeal to mean that they were really at war with the Kurabus, and did not want to be left in the enemy’s country in their disabled condition. This was the fact as Muro gathered it from the captives.

The four lying on the battle line were dead. Muro was told to inform the captives of their peaceful intention, and that they were on a trip through the island on a mission, and not to secure captives. They were further informed that friendship on their part would be advantageous to them, and providing them with food, and a sheltered spot, the fort was replaced, and the wagon proceeded.

The boys had here the first opportunity to see the pineapple, which grew in patches along their path. The boys could not be restrained, and Angel was called into requisition. With his strong arms he broke off dozens of them, and the singular thing about it was he never made a mistake. His faculty for getting the ripe ones was unfailing.

“I didn’t know these grew here,” said Harry.

“Yes,” answered John; “but only in certain sections, or in particular soils. It grows in semi-tropical countries, and is a native fruit in Mexico, Central America, Guiana and Brazil. It is claimed that the pineapple contains all the essential elements of every fruit.”

“Did you ever see such leaves?”

“Many varieties have leaves over three feet long, and are valuable because the most beautiful silken fiber is found in them from which the finest fabrics are woven.”