Chapter VI: Approaching the First Hostile Camp

The only thing the boys really missed on the long journeys was the milk, and necessarily the butter. The yaks were a perfect feast for them. It was jolly fun to take care of them and milk the animals, and all took a hand in caring for the milk and churning the butter.

It was the jolliest, happiest community ever associated, and it was also a trying one in many ways, but these difficulties only brought them closer together, and showed the beauty of mutual aid and comfort, and the pleasures that grew out of them became keener as the days passed.

Each task appeared to be a pleasure; there was no work too hard or exertion too difficult to perform. Whether in preparing the food or making the ammunition, or the hunting or fishing, all seemed a part of the great work which John and the Professor had instilled in them.

They realized that there was something for them to live for; that they were placed on the island for some great object; and that while the rescue of their friends was a solemn duty, the other “burden,” to try and conquer the savages for their own welfare, was a part of their life.

Speaking of the subject one evening, the Professor observed: “Many people have a wrong impression of the divine injunction, that ‘it is better to give than to receive.’ This does not imply mere material things, but it goes far beyond that. A gift means nothing; it may be a pleasant reminder; but aside from that what is there which is really a service to either giver or receiver? The true giving is that which does not cost the giver anything. The great donor is he who can transfer to the recipient something which he could not otherwise gain. To teach a man how he can make two blades of grass grow where one grew before, or to impart the knowledge whereby a laborious task can be accomplished in an easier manner, or how the drudgery of life can be made a pleasant recreation, these are the great things of life, and are the greatest gifts in the power of civilized men.”

“It seems odd that it should be necessary to take a whole arsenal along with us for the purpose of trying to civilize the savages,” said George, laughing.

“Quite true,” answered John. “It has been said that England, the greatest civilizing force the world has ever known, sent her subjects to the shores of the foreign barbarians, with a Bible in one hand and a gun in the other. The Church and the fort seemed to be a necessary pair of instruments, put up opposite each other on the same highway that led to the rescue of the savages.”

“Well, in our case, we carry our fort with us,” and Tom laughed as he added: “But what are we going to do about the Bible?”

The Professor smiled, as did the others: “If you carry out that injunction, giving and not receiving, you are doing what the Bible teaches in essence.”

They now had the two captives, one who was still unable to walk and the other rapidly improving, and no doubt in a condition where he would be able to take care of himself within another week, and by that time the other would be so materially improved as to lighten the care necessary in his case.

Meanwhile every moment was put to the necessary preparations for the great self-imposed task, however critical it might be. The ammunition supply was doubled, and ten more gun barrels drilled out, accompanied with the stocks and fittings for the complete equipment. At odd hours the loom was in motion, making the crude sort of cloth that ramie fiber afforded; a load of cane was brought in and fifty pounds of sugar boiled down ready for use.

The wagon was thoroughly overhauled, and a new yoke provided. Thus each day was filled with excitement growing out of the new impulse which had been implanted in them.

The Saboro was learning rapidly, and his efforts to pronounce many of the words sounded generally like a severe case of stuttering, which was frequently amusing, and George, who had a faculty for affixing names, never referred to him except by the appellation of Mr. Stut.

“Why isn’t that a good name,” ventured Tom, as the significance burst on him. From that time forward he was known as Stut. It was simply the boy habit of giving some name, even to somebody who had a much better one, and it was so easy to pronounce.

“The other scalawag isn’t worth a name, as he is nothing but a chump. He hasn’t said a word since he has been having the pleasure of our company,” added Harry.

“Mr. Chump will suit him to a dot.”

Stut, and Chump, and Angel. John and the Professor laughed heartily as the boys jollied and worked. It was a sample of part of the life in that little community.

But the great day arrived. The wagon was loaded, and the merry party started out on the trail, not knowing what dangers lurked in their pathway. Every part of the forest to the west was a book to them. It had been traversed by the Professor and two of the boys on six different occasions, and three times John and the other two had trailed the different routes.

They recalled how directions and objects had been enigmas to them when the first attempt was made and with what fear and trembling the dark recesses of the woods filled them. It was entirely different on this occasion. They were strong, healthy, vigorous, and had been trained to woodcraft and hunting; were experts with the guns, and under the training of John and their previous engagements with the savages acquired a skill and confidence which only experience can teach.

It would not be going far out of the way to note that John and the Professor were proud of the boys. It would not be possible for two to be more congenial than their association. It was a constant source of delightful conversation to talk about their boys.

“After considering the matter for some time I am of the opinion that we should go directly west, after leaving the Cataract River, far enough to avoid the densest portion of the forest, which lies to the north of South River, and turn south about five miles east of West River,” remarked the Professor, as they were discussing the most available route.

“But you forget, Professor, that will bring us down to the very place where we crossed the tributary of the West River, and where we had our first meeting with the savages.”

“That is exactly the reason why I made the suggestion. I also had another object in view. From Stut’s description that is the direction we should go to reach the tribe which has the boys.”

Harry had forgotten this.

John did not remember the trip referred to, as it was taken during the time when his memory was still in darkness; but he turned to the Professor: “Was that place about ten miles east or southeast of the Tuolos?”

“Yes.”

“Then, if we go directly south from that point we shall find the last tribe which captured me, and when we reach them I am sure there will be a welcome for us.”

In explanation of this it should be stated that John was captured the first time by a very bitter and vindictive set, from whom he escaped, only to be taken, during the progress of a battle, by the successful tribe, living to the west. The last tribe was named the Osagas, and when the Professor and the boys had the first fight it was with this tribe, and from them the Chief, named Uraso, was captured, and held a prisoner for a time.

Uraso was with them long enough to become fairly familiar with the language, but John was able to talk with them, with some degree of intelligence, as he had learned the rudimentary part of the language. Uraso’s return to the tribe was a sore disappointment, because it was hoped that he would serve as a link by which they could communicate with the savages.

The first night the encampment was on the bank of the upper portion of Cataract River, and they would leave its shore in the morning for a more southerly course. The complete equipment was not a heavy load, since all of them walked except the Professor and Chump; the other captive, Stut, was allowed his liberty, because they felt that the direction of their route would bring them into a neighborhood which was remote from his tribe, and to reach his home it would be necessary to pass at least two of the hostile tribes.

The second night they encamped in what might fairly be called the enemy’s country, as on one of the previous trips the first view of them was had not many miles to the south. Caution, therefore, must be exercised, and the custom which had been established of setting regular watches was now resorted to.

Angel was with them, as a matter of course. His aid was invaluable, and the joyful chuckles which he emitted, when the wagon first started on its journey, told his feelings too well for words.

After the morning meal John and George took the advance. This was the signal for Angel to follow. He shambled along, and whenever opportunity offered was in the trees, swinging along from one to the next, and keeping up the pace without any apparent effort.

At intervals George would call to Angel to ascend a high tree and look to the south. This was now a familiar thing for him to do. He seemed to be proud of the faculty. George had on many occasions performed this scouting operation, and Angel learned to know its meaning.

Noon came before the tributary stream of the West River was reached. They hoped to encamp on its shore for luncheon, but it was still an hour or more away.

Before luncheon was over, Angel, in the highest treetop, began to descend with that well-known danger chatter, to which all had become accustomed. George ran to the tree and pointed to the south, and this was the signal for the repetition of his talk about the savages.

Selecting the most accessible tree, George mounted it for thirty feet, accompanied by Angel, and, following the eyes of the animal, could distinctly see moving objects directly to the south.

“I can see them, way beyond the river,” he cried. “If I can distinguish anything I will let you know.”

“Can it be possible the Osagas are there?” asked the Professor.

“They would be in that direction,” answered John.

“But I think we told you that it was near this place we had the fights with the tribes, where we accidentally got between the two factions.”

“It is probable they were fighting with the same people that attacked the Osagas the last time, but it is my impression they were much farther to the east.”

“Don’t you remember, Professor, that on the second day we saw a tribe different from those who attacked us before?”

“That is what I was going to remark. The whole matter of their tribal warfares seems to be pretty much mixed up.”

“Yes,” called down George, “there is quite a party, probably fifty or more--it is hard to tell at this distance.”

“Do you see any huts?” asked John.

After a pause, he answered: “No; nothing I can distinguish. It looks to me as though this is very near the place we had our first skirmish, and what seems peculiar is that when we were here before something like huts were visible in that direction.”

George was quiet for a time, when he continued: “Do you remember that after we crossed the river we made our way somewhat to the west and ascended a hill that had large trees on it. I mean the place where we had the second day’s fight, when we started for the West River?”

“That describes the place exactly. Can you see that? What we took for the villages was directly to the south of that point.”

“There are no villages there now.”

“How near that place are the people you see?”

“Directly to the east, probably less than a mile.”

“Then that is our objective point,” said John.

The time for action had come. All was excitement, but it was one mixed with a determination which meant business. The wagon was put in motion, and headed directly for the river. Before two o’clock the stream was crossed, and waiting only long enough to water the yaks, they were urged forward at a feverish speed.

John, George and the Angel again went to the front. At frequent intervals Angel swung up into the treetops, and whenever an opportunity presented itself George was an observer from the same vantage points.

They were moving nearer and nearer to their objects. It was nearly four o’clock when John called a halt, as he said: “We can now reach them in less than a half hour, and it is now merely a matter for us to decide, whether we shall make ourselves known now or wait for the morning, when we have a full day before us. For my part, we should camp, and we shall then be fresh for whatever turns up to-morrow.”

This was considered good advice, and the fort was erected at the side of a small rivulet where John had halted, and the cattle placed inside. Stut, to the surprise of all, lent a willing hand in the proceeding.

John, after the fort had been erected, and the evening meal served, said: “This ground is familiar to me. I have crossed and recrossed that stream back there many times, but not at this place. I can recall it because the water, if you noticed it, is quite reddish, or rather a reddish brown, due, no doubt, to the iron along the stream. It flows from the direction of the first tribe that captured me.”

“It seems to me we should have some settled policy with respect to our manner of treating with these people. Judging from our past experience with them, we must be firm and aggressive.”

“You are entirely right in that observation. Do not let us show any hesitancy in approaching them. In my opinion a bold front will do more to make them respect us than any other course.”

The night was clear, but the moon had not yet risen, and before nine John and George left the wagon on a scouting trip in the direction of the savages. The first mile was made at a rapid pace, but it became necessary to observe greater caution. By thus making an early investigation some idea might be obtained of the number, and possibly their designs.

The matter which most interested them was to ascertain whether this was the location of their homes, or if they had to meet a party on the warpath. In the latter case the problem was a more difficult one to handle. It was also desirable to ascertain what tribe they had to deal with.

The thing which early attracted John’s attention was the absence of fires. “I do not like that symptom. If they are in the vicinity of their home there would be fires evident somewhere. They are also exceedingly quiet, which adds to the belief that this is a party on the way to attack some neighboring people.”

The forward movement was made from shrub to tree, and from one bush to the next, until they were not five hundred feet from the camp, and at that distance the low sound of voices was distinguishable. It is singular that they had not disturbed a single picket.

“It will be safer for one alone to move through this brush, so remain here and keep a sharp lookout, while I go forward. Under no circumstances must an alarm be made, and do not use the gun except in self-defense, and in such an event do not wait for me, but return to the wagon with all haste.”

“How long will you be gone?” asked George.

“If I do not return in a half hour, you may be at liberty to go back.”

“But suppose they capture you?”

“If they get me you will know it.”

“How?”

“My gun will tell you that.”

John cautiously moved forward so quietly that George did not hear his motions, and he could then appreciate the ability of such a woodsman to creep upon an enemy.

As he approached the camp it became more obvious that they had to deal with a band of warriors, and within less than two hundred feet of the main body he spied the first pickets. He knew the custom of the natives in this respect, as they never scouted singly, so that he was not surprised to see two together.

Cautiously moving away from them, to the left, he again approached in the direction of the center of the camp, and after making a narrow circle to be sure that no other pickets were in the immediate vicinity, carefully advanced to a point not one hundred feet from the outer circle.

This gave him an opportunity to count the combatants. They had no tents, and beyond the mumbling sounds of the talkers, there was nothing to attract attention. There were no captives in sight, and only twice during the time he was in close view of the camp, did any warriors come in, or others go out.

During this period, however, he had gained sufficient knowledge to ascertain that they had only four sets of pickets, and all of them disposed in the direction of the wagon, or to the northwest.

This was certainly a curious thing, and something he could not understand at the time. He debated the subject in his mind for some time, and then as quietly made his way back to George.

“That is the most peculiar way of picketing, to guard only one side of the camp. Let us go eastwardly and try to pick up some information from that quarter.”

They worked their way through the brush for a quarter of a mile when John pointed to the south. “This is the direction to take. Guard the movement of every foot now, and stop the moment you see my hand go up.”

The way now led up a perceptible elevation, which could not really be called a hill, but it was a slope, thickly wooded, and with considerably less underbrush than in the lower ground. The trees were not large, however, and the absence of the vegetation enabled them to see a much greater distance, and thus made the work easier, and enabled a much more rapid pace.