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CHAPTER XVI
A Thrilling Encounter
PROTRUDING from a tree bough not ten feet away was a long, sinister snake, its evil eyes glistening in what little sunlight penetrated the dense jungle. Whether it was poisonous Joe did not know, but he knew that even though it were not it would be dangerous to the extreme.
As cautiously as possible he nudged his companions, and then the naturalists held their rifles tighter. Here, only a short distance away, was a jararaca, one of the most poisonous of Brazilian reptiles – a snake that often was known to take the aggressive.
For a moment there was silence – an ominous silence that ended in a blood-curdling hiss.
Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis raised their rifles and took long and careful aim. Bob followed suit, although he was not sure that his aim would be true.
Then, just as the snake prepared to strike, the men fired simultaneously, and Bob pulled the trigger a second later.
In such a crisis it was necessary that their bullets take effect, and they did.
The reptile’s head was shattered into a horrible pulp that was all but sickening, and the great body lashed about in pain. For several minutes the movements continued; then, as life faded out, the snake became less active, finally stretching out into one last mass.
“Whew!” breathed Bob, relaxing for the first time. “That was some encounter.”
Mr. Holton nodded in affirmation.
“If we had been stung by those terrible fangs it would have been the last of us,” he said, casting a resentful look in that direction.
“The venom is extremely powerful,” remarked Mr. Lewis, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “It is yellow in color, and takes effect almost immediately. The nervous system becomes paralyzed in a very short time.”
“A pleasant way to die – I don’t think,” muttered Joe, shrugging his shoulders.
They made a wide circle about the reptile’s body and started on the return journey.
“I’d like to have it as a specimen,” remarked Mr. Lewis, referring to the jararaca. “But in its shattered condition it would not be worth the taking.”
The hunters rested awhile under the shade of a large hardwood tree, whose branches extended out over a great distance. Then Mr. Holton took up his belongings, and the others did the same.
Gradually the jungle became less dense, and at last they came to the village, where they were given a hearty greeting by the Indians, who were glad to see the hunters back in the village. They found Professor Bigelow in the hut, his hands flying over the keys of the typewriter.
At first he did not notice them, thinking they were Indians, but finally he lifted his gaze.
“What kind of luck did you have?” he inquired absently.
The others hesitated a moment at the professor’s almost unconscious question. It was evident that the anthropologist was becoming deeply absorbed in this work of observing the daily life of the little-known Indians. Then, with a wink at the others, Mr. Holton decided on a preposterous answer to see how the professor would take it.
“We brought down two tigers and an elephant,” he said, in as sober tones as he could summon.
“Hmm. Well, that’s fine” – the typewriter still clicked rapidly. “I suppose you’ll have them skinned at once?”
Bob and Joe could not help breaking out in laughter, and the naturalists joined them. Professor Bigelow looked up in surprise.
“I must confess I wish I could see something humorous,” he said, stopping his writing for a moment and looking at his companions in wonder.
The others were laughing all the harder now, and poor Professor Bigelow was bewildered beyond words. Only an explanation would satisfy him.
As soon as Mr. Holton could regain his breath he hastened to assure the professor that it was nothing about his person that caused the laugh, but only his intense scientific enthusiasm. He joined in the merriment also when the joke was told.
“That’s one on me,” he said mirthfully. “I guess I was too deeply engrossed in this manuscript.”
The remainder of that day was spent rather idly, for, hot as it had previously been, it seemed to grow all the more stifling. Bob remarked that he did not feel like doing anything but loafing, and the others were none different.
The next day Bob, Joe, and their fathers again started out on a collecting trip and added many new specimens to the already large assemblage. They brought in gorgeously colored macaws, screamers, woodpeckers, trumpeters, finfoots, waxbills, and many other birds. They shot many small animals, including a type of opossum, a large lizard, and an armadillo. It was indeed a large number of specimens that the naturalists prepared that night.
“So far, everything is working out fine,” smiled Mr. Lewis, as he put the fauna up for exhibition.
Meanwhile the chief, Otari, was helping Professor Bigelow as best he could and gave him several articles of daily use as a present, in return for which the professor gave the Indian beads and mirrors and other objects dear to all primitive people.
“I have enough material now to write several books,” the professor said joyfully. “The museum certainly will welcome this information. And these articles that the chief gave me – well, they will tickle the museum heads greatly.”
Time tended to increase rather than lessen the number of daily interests to the explorers, and they found themselves living as in a dream. The great tropical forest about them added an enchantment to the work, and the simple, primitive people that they were living with caused them to imagine themselves living in prehistoric times.
“It’s great, Joe, old boy,” said Bob, deeply stirred. “Who would have ever thought that away out here in the wilderness it would be possible to come across things so interesting?”
“Yet,” said Joe, “I suppose they wouldn’t be interesting to everyone.”
One day, when the party had been at the Indian village nearly a week, Bob and Joe asked permission to go into the forest and try their luck at getting specimens.
“All right,” Mr. Holton replied. “But don’t get too far away.”
Bob picked out a rifle and Joe a small shotgun, and after parting words with their elders they made for the jungle.
The trail was one that they had never taken, and it was consequently necessary to be doubly careful to pick the right branch. But they had little difficulty, as the main path was much wider than the branches.
In no time they were engulfed by the jungle, which was here even thicker than they had previously found it. Monkeys were more numerous in the tree boughs, and they peered doubtfully at the white hunters who had invaded their land.
Joe raised his shotgun and brought several down, intent upon leaving them at the spot until they would return to the village.
“So far, so good,” remarked Bob. “Wonder what else we’ll come across?”
“Time will tell,” Joe replied.
On and on they trekked, keeping a sharp lookout on all sides. Once Bob lost his footing and went sprawling on the ground.
“Better be more careful,” warned Joe.
Suddenly there came a loud snort, and the youths were on the alert at the instant.
Gripping their guns tightly, they stopped and waited.
Again it came, and the next minute they caught sight of a wild pig, or peccary, rustling the tall grass not far away.
“Keep still,” whispered Bob, raising his rifle. “Maybe I can get him. Then we can have meat – and his hide as a specimen.”
Several moments Bob spent in taking careful aim. Then he pulled the trigger.
Bang! Oink! Oink! Silence.
“Hurrah!” cried Joe. “Killed him dead as a doornail. Now to get his – ”
He stopped suddenly as he caught sight of something that froze him with horror. Not fifty feet down the path rushed a drove of peccaries numbering at least twenty.
CHAPTER XVII
Terrible Peccaries
“RUN!” cried Bob in tones of mortal terror.
He tore down the path at full speed, closely followed by Joe, who was panting furiously.
The youths had a start of less than fifty feet, but how long they could keep in the lead they well knew, for hardly any creature, large or small, could elude the tireless chase of peccaries.
They dared not glance back for fear of stumbling, but feared that the wild pigs were gaining rapidly.
What would the boys do? How could they ever escape that furious drove?
Suddenly Joe’s foot slipped and he went down, his face as pale as death. He looked appealingly to Bob.
Bob wheeled about and brought his rifle to his shoulder. The nearest peccary was not more than ten feet away. The youth took hasty aim, then pulled the trigger.
At the report of the gun the animal fell, gasping and writhing about.
Bob worked the bolt on his rifle. He took a second aim at the next peccary and killed it.
For a moment, at least, the jungle was cleared, and by now Joe had arisen to his feet, although the pain in his ankle was terrific.
“Come on,” beckoned Bob. “We must get away at once. The rest of them will be here in a moment. Can you make it?”
“I – I guess so. My ankle hurts terribly, though.”
Not far away there was a large hollow, the place where the roots of a tree had been before a hurricane had uprooted them. To this the boys made with all speed. If they could only reach it in time there might be a chance of escape, for the peccaries would find it hard to climb the steep bank.
The youths scrambled down the edge and tumbled to the bottom. Then they began the task of climbing the opposite side. They reached the top just as the drove started down, and for the first time felt that they had a good chance of escaping.
“Make for the trail,” panted Joe. “Then we might get back to the village.”
They kept up the fast pace for a distance of several hundred yards, and then, panting and gasping, they slowed down to a trot.
“Guess we’ve thrown them off the track,” breathed Joe, hobbling along almost on one foot.
“Let’s hope so,” Bob answered, glancing around for a brief moment.
At last they parted the foliage and burst into the village, their faces red with fatigue, their bodies dripping with perspiration.
Mr. Lewis came out to meet them, and he glanced up in some surprise.
“What happened?” he asked, sensing that the youths had met with some misfortune.
“Peccaries!” returned Bob. “A drove of peccaries! Doesn’t that mean something?”
“Ah!” the naturalist exclaimed. “Well, it’s no wonder you’re so worn out. Let’s hear about it.”
Mr. Holton and Professor Bigelow now came running out, along with a few Indians.
Bob related their narrow escape from the wild pigs, and Mr. Holton shook his head gravely.
“You don’t want any more such encounters,” he said. “Good luck like that couldn’t happen twice.”
“At that, we would have got away sooner if Joe hadn’t sprained his ankle,” said Bob.
“A sprained ankle is a bad thing to have when in a wild land,” said Professor Bigelow, with a grim smile. “It often proves one’s own undoing. But now,” he added, “I’m off to converse with the chief. I’m getting a wealth of information about these strange people.”
But though he was meeting with success, the professor was destined not to be satisfied in prolonging his stay in this village. It happened in this way. The explorers were seated about the campfire one evening when the chief happened casually to mention a strange Indian tribe that lived in the remote beyond. At once the anthropologist was on the alert, ready to hear anything that Otari might say.
“Tell me something about them,” urged the scientist in the native tongue.
The chief explained that little was known about the tribe, except that the members were extremely warlike and did not hesitate to kill anyone that looked to be an enemy. Often they were cannibalistic, boiling their victims in huge clay kettles. Asked how he knew about them, Otari replied that one of his tribe, a born rover and adventurer, happened to come across them when on an exploring expedition in the upper reaches of the river. At first he was taken prisoner but was later released and allowed to return down the river.
For nearly five minutes after Otari had finished, Professor Bigelow was thoughtfully silent, absorbed in picturing the journey into the unknown. How wonderful it would be to visit this strange tribe! What an opportunity to win recognition from eminent men of his profession!
“How far away is this place?” he asked at last.
How far? A journey of many, many days through wild, heavily forested country. It would not be safe to attempt the journey.
The professor then asked the chief how he thought the unknown tribe would treat the explorers, and the big Indian shook his head doubtfully.
“Otanima turutee nevark [take big chance],” he said vaguely, and then proceeded to point out the many dangers that would accompany the venture.
But despite the Indian’s warning, Professor Bigelow was determined to investigate this unknown tribe. It was more than likely that Otari was influenced by native superstition and that the dangers that he feared were largely imaginative. After all he (Professor Bigelow) had looked up many other strange people in various parts of the world and had had little difficulty in winning their good will. Even the wildest of savages, if well treated and presented with gifts, were more or less easily won over. Surely this tribe would not be worse than others he had visited.
Professor Bigelow sought out his companions and put the facts before them, not hesitating to tell them that the venture would probably be dangerous and fraught with displeasures. But he pointed out much stronger that there would be a wonderful opportunity to study the most primitive of men, in addition to finding many strange, or perhaps unknown, animals.
The others listened intently, and in the end they were very thoughtful.
Bob and Joe remained silent. Here was a time when they thought it best not to voice an opinion, for they had had no experience in the work of exploring.
“If it were not for the fact that the boys are with us I would answer ‘yes’ at once,” said Mr. Lewis. “But since they are, I hardly know what to say.”
“It would be terrible if anything should happen to them,” put in Mr. Holton. “But they have proven that they are able to take care of themselves in almost any predicament, and we wouldn’t need to worry about them. Still, that wouldn’t prevent anything from happening to the whole party. Yet Professor Bigelow has shown that he has an enormous amount of ability to handle savage people, and I’d be willing to bet that in the end we’d come out all right. What do you think of it, Ben?”
“I’m willing to go if you are,” Mr. Lewis replied. “As you said, we’ll probably have little or no trouble.”
“Then you’ll go?” the professor asked.
The others nodded.
“Fine! I assure you that I will do all in my power to bring about friendly relations. And I might add that Otari has consented to give me a list of words of the strange tribe’s language. He got them from the fellow that wandered into their domain.
“Now the next thing,” he continued, “is to get our belongings together and pack them in the boats. You can start doing that now, while I look up Otari. I’ll be back in a very short time.”
The next minute he was gone, and the naturalists and their sons began the task of packing their provisions in the boats. For some time no one spoke. Then Mr. Lewis put down a box he was carrying and turned to the others.
“We don’t want to have any bloodshed if we can possibly prevent it,” he said gravely. “But there may be a time when we’ll find it necessary to use our rifles in order to protect our lives. In that case, every man must be depended upon to be wide awake and do his part in the shooting. Let’s hope that nothing like that happens, but as there is a possibility, it is best to be on the safe side. I think it might be wise to construct sides and a top on the boats, so as to ward off spears and poisoned arrows – if any should come our way. We can get the Indians to help us, and Otari will point out the best wood to use. What do you say?”
“I’m all for it,” replied Bob. “It might mean the difference between life and death.”
Professor Bigelow and Otari now came in, and the plan was explained to them. At once the professor gave his approval, and translated to the chief, who in the end sent men into the forest to pick out the best wood to be used in building the enclosure. Then the work of carrying the expedition’s belongings to the boats was resumed.
In a short time the Indians were back with a good supply of a light but tough wood, and the adventurers at once set to work at building the sides and top on the boats.
First the sides were built up to a height of about three feet; then a top was placed over about half of the length and fastened on securely. The material was so light that no difference in the standing of the boat was noticed. Yet Otari said that the tough wood would withstand a blow from any kind of native weapon. To prove this, he ordered one of his men to shoot an arrow at close range, and the sharp-pointed missile merely glanced off the wood and fell into the river.
The explorers were well pleased with this floating fort, and stood for some time admiring its staunch construction.
“Now to get to the other boat,” said Mr. Lewis, picking up a hammer and nails.
In less than an hour the second enclosure was built on the other canoe, and it appealed also to the explorers.
“Let’s get started at once,” said Professor Bigelow.
The last of their belongings was packed into the compartments, and then, with a sincere farewell to Otari and his tribe, the crew paddled them upstream on another stretch of the great river journey.
What new adventures and thrills awaited them?
CHAPTER XVIII
A Nightmare Experience
IT did not take the explorers long to pass a group of islands not far upstream, one of the landmarks that Otari had told them about, and as the islands were a number of miles from the village, they felt that they were making a rapid start.
The country was gradually becoming wilder and more beautiful, but with this came an increase in the number of dangerous obstacles that had to be avoided. On the shore the jungle was denser than they had ever seen it before. In many places, to attempt to penetrate its depths would be difficult and perilous, and disaster would come upon anyone who would not blaze a trail.
The variety of fauna was still greater, and many new specimens did the naturalists add to their already large collection. Birds and beasts and reptiles all fell at the report of the explorers’ rifles.
Finally they came to a wide tributary, which forged off from the main stream, making the two rivers form a perfect V. This was the second of Otari’s landmarks, and the explorers felt that another important distance had been covered.
“The current’s rather rough,” said Bob, his eyes following the course of the tributary.
The explorers passed the stream by, not thinking it wise to chance an exploration of it.
The next day their adventurous spirits proved their own undoing. They had been paddling constantly after the morning meal when suddenly they came upon another tributary, this time branching out at right angles from the main stream. There was something about that river that made the explorers want to follow its rough course.
“Probably doesn’t continue far,” was the opinion given by Mr. Holton. “Let’s turn the boats up for a considerable distance. We may come across something totally different.”
The others agreed, for there was a possibility of finding almost anything in this out-of-the-way tributary.
“But we must not stray too far from the Tapauá,” warned Professor Bigelow, as the crew turned the boats in that direction.
For the first hour the country remained much the same. Then they reached a region where rocky crags protruded out from the shore, making it necessary for the crew to be doubly careful in guiding the boats. And with this danger came the possibility of another, for the current was growing stronger. A terrific rapids could be only a short distance downstream. At last, much to the surprise of all, they came to another river, running at right angles to the one they were on.
A thought struck Bob.
“Do you remember that tributary we passed yesterday that formed a V with the Tapauá?” he asked. “Well, I’ll bet this is it. It runs almost parallel with the Tapauá, and we’ve come upon it by taking this course that runs at right angles.”
“By George, you may be right,” agreed Mr. Lewis, suddenly grasping the meaning. “What say we turn down it and see if Bob isn’t right? If he is we’ll gradually fork over to the Tapauá and be where we were yesterday afternoon.”
The others did not object, for they were curious to know whether or not Bob was right.
The current gradually grew stronger, carrying the boats ahead at a much swifter pace. Although this afforded the crew a chance to rest, it worried the explorers, for it was plain that a rapids was somewhere ahead.
They paddled on, however, confident that they were not near enough to be in danger.
“We’ll continue for a while,” said Mr. Holton. “Then we may be able to find out what is ahead of us.”
The words had scarcely left his mouth when the boats rounded a corner, not two hundred feet above a seething, boiling rapids, its waters rushing madly past protruding rocks.
There was no time to lose. Something must be done at once!
“Stop the boats!” cried Mr. Lewis in Portuguese to the crew.
The Indians heard, and struggled with all their might against the rapidly increasing current, but their efforts were in vain. The boats had gained too much momentum.
The cruel water carried them on at terrific speed, which was increased several fold when they went into the rapids. Then they realized that there was little use trying to stop. The forces of man were puny indeed compared to that terrific onslaught of foam.
“Make for the middle of the stream!” commanded Mr. Holton. “Even then it will tax our efforts to the utmost.”
The whites grabbed poles and what other objects they could find and did their part in keeping the foremost boat at as near the middle of the river as they could. But even with the added help it was extremely difficult to guide straight.
The crew had the paddles, and they were doing their best to steer the boats away from the banks. They succeeded fairly well, for the river was still several score feet wide.
But grave misfortune awaited them.
Not far away was a small island, stretching several hundred feet along the course of the river. The distance between the river bank and the island shore was little more than twenty feet, hardly room enough for the boats to get through. And to make matters worse, there were several large boulders protruding near the bank. Disaster seemed almost certain!
In the face of this grave danger the explorers remained calm, determining to save themselves and the boats if it were at all possible. But how?
With sinking hearts they saw the boats head directly for the rocks, where they would immediately be dashed to pieces.
“We must – we’ve got to do something!” cried Professor Bigelow, rapidly losing his nerve.
Bob and Joe were nearest the bank, and anything that could be done was up to them.
Summoning all his power, Joe thrust a sturdy pole into the roots of a large tree that grew almost in the water. He little expected anything to come of the act, but it was a last resort.
Much to the surprise and relief of all, the sudden impact forced the boat back into midstream, although Joe was nearly thrown overboard by the clash.
Bob drew a sigh of relief. A narrow escape! Perhaps the closest they would ever be to death and yet evade it.
But what of the other boat? The whites were so intent upon guiding the one they were in that they completely forgot about the one that trailed.
They quickly glanced around, to see that it had escaped also, and was dashing along behind. How the good luck was brought about they never knew.
“That was a wonderful act on your part,” praised Mr. Holton, turning a moment to Joe.
The latter shook his head.
“Don’t know how I happened to think of it,” he said modestly. “I didn’t expect any good from it, though.”
The others also took part in the commendation, and Joe was glad to turn the conversation to their present predicament.
“Looks like we have a fair chance now,” he remarked, glancing far ahead.
Then suddenly they struck a seething whirlpool and were spun around broadside to the terrific current.