Chapter XV: Uraso Captured by the Berees. Welcomed by the Professor

The Professor and his party halted within the boundaries of the Osagas’ territory. The next day the principal village would be reached. This was the day before the last incident recorded in the previous chapter.

When they approached the vicinity of the village, it was only too apparent that the warriors had gone, and it was but the work of a few minutes to surround it, to find the women, children and the aged and infirm, huddled together in the various huts, in consternation at what must be their fate.

They were gathered together, and the Professor addressed them through Ralsea: “We have not come here to make war on you, and you will be left here. We want to be your friends. Tell us where your warriors have gone.”

An old man came forward and said: “You look like a white man who took our chief Uraso and killed him. We felt bitter, and agreed with the Kurabus to find you and be revenged. But the Saboros wanted to go, too, and that would be too many to take the white man’s things, and before we knew it the Saboros and the Kurabus went to find you.”

“Who told you that the white man had killed Uraso?”

“When the Kurabus and the Osagas had a fight in the north moons ago the white man took Uraso. The Osagas sent scouts all over the land, and found where the white man had his village, and could not see Uraso, and they knew he had been sacrificed. This was confirmed when, after the white man had captured one of the wounded Kurabus, and set him free, because the Kurabu said that he was not in the village.”

“I am the man,” said the Professor, “who took Uraso; we did not kill him, as we do not believe in killing captives. We cured him, and gave him a repa (a bolo), and he ran away from us.”

The old man listened with astonishment as Ralsea translated the words. Then turning to the sub-chief, he asked whether the white man had many warriors. The Professor understood, and without waiting for Ralsea to interpret the question, answered:

“We have many, many times more people than you have in all this land, and we have wonderful reckas (weapons), but we want to be friends, and not enemies.”

The old man then said that the warriors were now in the north, and that the last band had gone there the day before to try and capture the traveling murka (wagon) which the white men had.

This information was sufficiently startling to determine the Professor to act at once; so turning to Ralsea he spoke as follows:

“We must try and prevent the Osagas from attacking my people. They will resist, and many of them will be killed. Let us go at once with the warriors.”

This was the most remarkable event which had ever taken place in the lives of these people--it was the first time that a hostile tribe had ever taken a village and not exacted a tribute. It was too astonishing for their comprehension.

The Professor and his party had no idea that John and the boys had directed the course of the wagon eastwardly, and were, therefore, at that time in the Kurabu territory fully ten miles east of the point where he hoped to find them.

For the present the most important thing was to follow the Osagas, and halt them from attacking, so the column was hurried forward, directly to the north in the trail of the fighters in the hope that they might be overtaken before the next morning.

While this was going on John and the boys were preparing for the fight of their lives. They were determined on forcing their way through the hostile forces. The two bands were coming forward at a rapid rate, and they saw them unite without any hostile exhibitions.

The parties had joined for some purpose, which was not then apparent, as neither of the factions could have known of the presence of the wagon before them. There was no movement for fully an hour, due doubtless to consultations upon the subject at hand.

About two o’clock the combined column was set in motion, and it was noticed that the two tribes, while marching toward them, along parallel lines, were separated from each other. John called Muro’s attention to this. He replied:

“That is the custom here with all tribes. They will not mix up when on the march. Each tribe keeps by itself.”

“Why is that?”

“The wise men say the arrows will not go straight.”

Blakely, who heard this conversation, said: “I know just what he means by that. I got an inkling of that on one occasion. I put it in this way: They are mighty distrustful, and as a result are compelled to keep an eye on each other. This prevents them from shooting accurately, or with care.”

This incident of the two tribes moving side by side conveyed another meaning, also, to Muro, for he continued, after Blakely concluded:

“The ones over there,” pointing to the left, “are Illyas, I know.”

This was determined, as he afterwards expressed it, because they are always suspicious, and were never known to mingle with the other tribes.

“But what are they doing in this section of the country?”

“That I do not understand. Maybe to recover captives, or something of that kind.”

The two bands approached without any expectation of meeting the whites. That was evident. In any event it would have been impossible for the wagon to get away, because the country was too open to shield them. They had only to hope that by some fortune they would not be revealed.

The wagon had been put in position, as stated, in the open, so that such a party, coming within a quarter of a mile, would be likely to catch sight of it. The hope of being undiscovered was very faint.

To their delight the party passed along fully that distance away, and did not show any alarm, but as the last of the column of the Illyas was passing from sight there was a commotion, and the entire column turned to face them.

This was the signal for the Kurabus, who filed to the left and danced about like demons at the sight of the wagon, and the peculiar enclosure at one side, which was immediately recognized by them.

The occupants of the fort showed no sign. “Keep cool, boys, and fire steadily, when we once commence. Have all the ammunition in ready reach, and merely fire and reload. Observe our former method. We must keep the reserve guns for an emergency.”

The information was imparted to Muro and his companions, and each had a gun in hand and another by his side, loaded and ready for use. Both had been instructed daily in the manner of loading and of aiming, but they had done no firing, owing to the dangerous proximity of their enemies.

Muro and his friend were impatient beyond measure. They had the opportunity so long craved to attack their bitter enemies.

The Kurabus circled around the wagon to the left and the Illyas to the right. At a signal there was a shower of arrows, all of which fell short, but contrary to expectations, did not follow it with a concerted rush. Instead they advanced nearer, and the second volley of arrows was sent forth, and some of them found their marks in the fort, and two struck the wagon.

John saw Muro’s appealing look. The latter pointed to the group of Illyas, and said: “Chief; see big man, this side.”

John replied: “Can you hit him?”

Muro did not wait for a stronger invitation, and John drew back the firing hammer for him, and told him to take a careful aim, as he had been instructed. He did this with the utmost deliberation, in the coolest and most matter-of-fact way.

He fired. The chief threw up his hands and fell backward, while the warriors crowded about him and began to set up a demoniacal howl.

“Now, boys, that is a good target to fire into,” muttered John. “Ready--fire!” Six shots more found their marks in the congested mass. How many fell it was impossible to say in the confusion produced by the volley.

“Reload, and be ready for the next.”

The first impulse of the savages was to rush for shelter, and thus left their dead and wounded where they fell. But the chief’s body was there, and several rushed forward and recovered him, without molestation on the part of John.

When the warriors fled they had an opportunity to see the result of the volley. The six shots had wounded eight, more or less; how many of them were killed could not be determined at the time.

All the besiegers now withdrew to a safe distance. It was obvious to them that their arrows were not of sufficient range to compete with the wonderful weapons possessed by the whites. Several warriors crawled up to the nearest bunches of shrubbery, and they were permitted to do so, but when once in their supposed concealed positions were close enough, so that it was no trouble in reaching them with the guns.

The effect of Muro’s shot was so exhilarating that he danced about the enclosure with expressions of joy. The boys patted him on the back, and applauded him for the masterly manner in which he had executed the first shot.

Two hours passed by, and it did not seem possible that they would attempt to rush the fort. Considering that there were fully two hundred warriors about them, such tactics, if pushed with vigor, must have resulted in the annihilation of the occupants of the fort. But the savages were wary. The Illyas had now a taste of the same medicine that the Kurabus had taken to their disgust.

Before evening the two forces disposed themselves around the fort, and the night set in with a slight shower. Muro chuckled at this, and when questioned, responded: “Cannot use bows,” and he smiled.

The rain increased, and as there was now no cover for the wagon, all were drenched. The darkness was intense, and the vigil was a constant one, occupying the attention of all. Muro stated that neither of the parties would attempt an attack in that condition, but they must be alert to resist any daredevils who might approach for the purpose of picking off one or more of their number.

Shortly after midnight a peculiar voice was heard, calling “John, John.” They listened. “Did some one call me?” asked John.

“Yes; we heard it!” exclaimed several of the boys.

“John, John,” the voice repeated, and they detected a scratching on the wall of the fort. John sprang over to the side from which the sound emanated, and saw a figure crouching close to the ground, alongside of the fort.

“I am John; what do you want?”

A hand was held up containing an object, and John caught it, and drew it in. It was something in fabric, and tied with a cord. The darkness was too intense to distinguish its character, but John cut the cord and a leaf fell out.

“Here is some news,” he cried. “Get a light quickly.” One of the matches was produced, and held close to the leaf. The writing could not be distinguished by the momentary gleam, which shot forth, but the signature, “Professor,” caught the eye of Harry, who held the match.

“It is from the Professor,” he exclaimed excitedly, and he jumped up and peered over the top wall, and seeing the object still there, reached down, and recognized a savage, who held up his hand. Harry grasped it, and, calling to the others, said: “Help him in.”

The savage made no resistance, but assisted the others to draw him in. Muro recognized him as one of the Berees, and quickly asked: “Why are you here?”

“I came from the great White Chief.”

“Where is he?”

_Fig. 15._]

“Coming from the south, with all my people.”

When this was translated to them the boys were wild with the news.

“Be quiet, boys; make no demonstration. If it is not too wet, strike another light. There! steady!”

“What does it say?” was the eager question.

“If you are attacked hold out to last extremity. I am coming to your assistance. The bearer, Sutoto, is our friend.”

Muro questioned him as John propounded the inquiries.

“Did your people capture the White Chief?”

“I took him in the hills to the west of this place.”

“You captured him?”

“Yes; I took him to the chief, and he made the chief’s daughter well. The chief told us he was a great man, and that he was forever his friend, and when our warriors came back from the fight he cured them, but he would not eat, and all our people marveled at this, and believed him to be a superior being, and the chief imprisoned all our medicine men.”

“Where is he now?”

“Coming to us with all the warriors of my people, and with the two purees (boys) which we had.”

“Purees? What does he mean?”

And Muro pointed to the boys.

“How did you get in to us?”

“I was with the people outside when it began to rain, and came up to the kramin (bush) close to you. I was here long time.”

“George, get Sutoto something to eat; he must be hungry.” And this was speedily attended to.

When the morning sun arose bright and beautiful it was a welcome relief to the misery of the night. The boys now had an opportunity to examine their new friend. They marveled at his youth. But he was evidently well known to Muro. They talked long and earnestly, and the latter recounted their experiences.

Chump told him about the wonders of the Cataract house, and of the remarkable things to be seen there. He looked at the fort and examined the wagon, and the things possessed a remarkable fascination for him. He was a second edition of George in the capacity to ask questions.

Muro explained that Sutoto was the fleetest runner in the country, and his finely shaped limbs and admirable poise of his head was admired by all. He eyed Blakely for some time, and the latter held out his hand. Sutoto grasped it, and as they held each other’s hand, said: “I think you ought to remember me. I was one of your guests for a little time.” And he laughed, as did Sutoto.

The scene in that wagon for the next few hours was like a reunion of long-lost friends. The boys admired Sutoto’s manly ways, and even Ralph, who often said he had no use for any of the devils, admitted that he would have to change his mind.

While all this drama was being enacted the Professor was hurrying to the north as fast as the warriors could travel. The Professor suggested that as they were now approaching the enemy’s country it would be wise to send out advance guards.

This was a novel proceeding to Ralsea, but he readily assented, and four of the most skillful were given instructions to keep well ahead and note every movement. It was most fortunate that this was done for reasons we shall now see.

Before noon the scouts discovered a lurking savage, and as he was trying to get away a number of others were sent out, so their movements radiated out like a fan, and in this manner the fugitive was hemmed in and finally captured.

He was brought in by the most wildly excited and gesticulating lot of savages the Professor had ever witnessed. This appeared to be a more than ordinary event with them, and he could not understand it.

Before they were near he heard the cries of “Osaga, Osaga,” and the Professor was startled in the belief that they had come up with the band they were pursuing.

The captive was brought before the Professor, and the moment he looked at him cried out, “Uraso.” For a moment he was too much affected to speak. Uraso went up to the Professor and embraced him, and then looked around at the Berees in astonishment.

Here was the Professor, carried by the Berees, not as a prisoner, but as an individual in state, with the warriors under his command. He could not understand the situation.

“Didn’t we treat you right, Uraso?”

“I tried to go back to my people and bring them to you. The Illyas captured me, and now that they have allied themselves with the Kurabus, intended to attack and capture you.”

“Have you been with them all this time?”

“No, when they first tried to capture me I was badly wounded, so that for a long time I could not walk, and when I was well enough, two moons ago, they did take me.”

“Your people have gone to attack my people in the wagon.”

Osaga could not credit this. His brow darkened, and his anger was terrible to witness.

Ralsea assured him that such was the case, and then told him that they had just come from the Osaga village. At this information he grew indignant, and cast a reproachful glance at the Professor. The sub-chief quickly informed him of the Professor’s acts, in refusing to permit anything to be disturbed at the village.

“He is a great chief,” said Uraso, addressing Ralsea. “I saw the wonderful things he has at his village, and I want him to teach my people the things they do.”

“You must go with us, Uraso; we must find your warriors before they attack John and the boys.”

“John, John,” and he repeated over the name again and again. His face lighted up.

“I will go; my people shall not injure you. We are your friends.”

He was then informed that Muro, the chief of the Saboros, was also with John.

“Muro? My sister is his wife.” This news made him dance with joy. He rushed up to the Professor and again embraced him, and then went to Ralsea and rubbed his nose against him, in token of friendship and peace between their people.