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CHAPTER XXXIII. – THE GIANT SPIDERS
When they resumed their journey the next morning they encountered a new form of obstacle in the form of the webs of huge red bird-catching spiders, whose nets stretched from tree to tree in the forest, looked like seine nets in a fisherman’s village hung out to dry, or to make another comparison, miles of mosquito netting hung between the tree trunks. Through these webs they had to make their way for a long distance.
The boys did not like it at all, and Donald Judson, who was particularly averse to spiders, slunk in the rear till the natives, with shouts and yells, cut down the webs that hung across the trail. The soft silky substance of the webs struck them in the face and clung glutinously and covered their clothes with a coating of white fleece.
As they forced their way through this repulsive feature of New Guinea forest travel, they could, from time to time, see the hideous forms of the huge and venomous spiders that had spread the webs peering at them from dark retreats in the crevices of trees or else scuttling off on long, hairy legs to safety. It did not require much imagination to picture their anger at this ruthless destruction of their homes. That night they camped near the edge of a big swamp, and the two boys, weary of the monotony of the long march and tired of canned stuff and preserved goods, volunteered to set out with rifles and see if they could not bring in something more palatable.
As they had camped early when the swamp crossed their path, there was plenty of time for them to go quite a distance in search of game. In a short time they had brought down two birds that looked something like partridges, as well as shooting an odd-looking bird like a huge parrot, with a gigantic bill and horny head. They were some distance apart, separated by a brake of reeds, when Jack heard a sudden cry of alarm from Billy.
Disregarding the danger of snakes, he pushed his way through the brake at once. As he came in sight of Billy, who was standing staring into the forest as if petrified, Jack, too, received a shock. Not far from Billy was what he at first thought was a man. But such a man! Not even in a nightmare had the boy ever beheld such a hideous form.
This man, if such he was, was covered all over with red hair, thick and shaggy, except on the face, which was darker and bereft of hair, but from which two yellow eyes glared malevolently. In an instant the true nature of this creature flashed upon Jack. It was an orang-outang, and a monster, too, that stood facing them, its long arms trailing in front of it. But even though stooped over, it was as large as the average man, with a massive chest and shoulders.
“Take a shot at it, Jack,” urged Billy.
But Jack shook his head.
“It looks too horribly human,” he said. “Besides, it doesn’t look as if it would attack us. It seems to be more possessed by curiosity than anything else.”
Perhaps the boy was right, for after eyeing them for a few seconds more the monstrous creature shuffled off for the edge of a big sheet of water on whose margin they stood, and began tearing up some sort of water plants and eating their roots with many grunts of satisfaction. He waded in almost knee deep, stuffing his bag-like cheeks full and chewing with huge satisfaction. The boys gazed at this strange picture with fascination.
But suddenly the monster stopped eating and stood erect. Its hair began to bristle and it uttered an angry sort of growl. Apparently it was not fear but anger that possessed this colossus of the forests as it glanced angrily about it. The cause of its emotion was not long in appearing. From the stagnant waters was approaching an antagonist formidable indeed – a giant saurian – a crocodile larger than any the boys had ever seen in any zoo.
The boys naturally expected to see the orang-outang beat a hasty retreat. But instead it stood its ground, merely drawing back a few inches as the crocodile’s hideous snout and scaly body were successively protruded from the water. Jack now recalled what Salloo had told him one night in camp about the orang. The Malay had said it was the king of the New Guinea forests, fearing no man, beast or reptile, and this certainly appeared to be the case in this instance.
Had it wished to beat a retreat to safety, the mias, as the natives called the red gorilla, might easily have done so. One leap and he could have grasped a tree trunk, up which he could have scrambled in a jiffy. On the contrary, after its first backward steps, which brought it almost out of the water, the creature stood upright and, uttering savage growls, beat on its hairy chest with its huge arms, producing a sound like the reverberations of a savage “tom-tom.”
The scaly reptile continued to advance. Perhaps, to its eyes, the red gorilla was simply a native, a poor weak human being, such as possibly had fallen victim to the great crocodile before. However that may have been, the saurian, without undue hurry, could be seen to be making straight for the red ape and, maneuvering so as to get its monstrous armor-plated tail in position to give a fatal flail-like sweep, which would fling the orang-outang into the water, stunning it and making it an easy prey.
It appeared to flatten itself as it reached shallow water, its ugly lizard-like legs spread out on each side of its scaly body almost horizontally. Then, with a suddenness that made the boys catch their breaths in a quick gasp, the monster gave a sudden leap, aiding this maneuver by its tail, which it suddenly stiffened as if it had been a spring.
Its whole length was launched into the air as it sprang, and for a flash its wide-opened jaws with their hideous rows of triangular teeth, appeared to engulf the red ape. But while the boys were still held spell-bound by this spectacle, such a one as perhaps no human being but a lone native hunter had ever beheld before, the red gorilla gave a mighty leap. It was partly straight up and partly to one side. As the great jaws of the saurian came together with a snap like that of a titanic steel trap, the red ape landed fair and square on the scaled monster’s back.
Straddling the plated hide, the great hairy legs gripped the crocodile’s sides as a bronco buster grips his fractious mount. And now commenced a struggle between these two denizens of the deepest New Guinea forests such as the two young spectators remembered with photographic vividness to the end of their lives.
On the part of the crocodile the battle was simply a series of leaps and wild tail threshings in an effort to dislodge his nimble foe. The grass and weeds were mown down as if by a scythe by the sweeps of the great tail, but the ape held firm, his little eyes twinkling wickedly. With one arm it clutched the rough hide firmly, but the other was waving about like a tentacle seeking something to grasp.
During the struggle the jaws of the crocodile had been frequently snapped, but they only closed on empty air. As in all the saurian tribe, during this process the upper jaw had pointed nearly vertically upward, making an opening big enough to swallow a canoe. Suddenly the watchers saw the orang’s purpose. All at once the disengaged arm made a swift sweep forward and grasped the extended upper jaw.
“Great Scott! he’s done for now,” cried Billy. “That jaw will close and cut his fingers off.”
“Hold on,” warned Jack. “Watch. I’ve heard these creatures can bend rifle barrels as if they were made of lead. Perhaps – look!”
The orang suddenly shifted his position. He was now kneeling on the crocodile’s back, his knees braced firmly on its armor-plated neck and his second arm aiding the first in the task of keeping those jaws, once apart, from ever coming together again. Then summoning every ounce of that strength that has made the orang the most dreaded of all the forest animals in that part of the world, even the Bornean tiger owning his supremacy, the red gorilla gave one grand wrench.
There was a tearing sound as of a tree being torn from its roots, and the alligator’s body writhed and threshed about convulsively. The great ape sprang free from the scaly monster and with hoarse laughter that sounded like the merriment of a maniac, it gazed on the saurian’s struggles. But it was not destined to see the end of them. In its agony the great crocodile instinctively made for the water and was soon out of sight, threshing and writhing until a clump of water-cane hid it from sight.
Then, and not till then, did the orang take its eyes from its conquered enemy. But when it had seen the last of it, the hairy creature turned and appeared to be contemplating fresh victory. The lust of battle was in its wicked little eyes.
“Down, Billy, down with you quick,” warned Jack, pulling his chum aside in the thicket. “If it comes this way, shoot at once. I wouldn’t want to come to close quarters with a creature like that. I thought Salloo was drawing the long bow when he told me about the mias, as he called it, but he didn’t put it on thick enough.”
“If only we’d had a camera,” was Billy’s regret. But for the next few moments there were more important things to think about. The orang stood upright, looking about him in a truculent manner. It almost appeared as if, now that his battle with the saurian was over, he had recollected the human figure he had seen not long before, but had paid little heed to it in his haste to make his evening meal among the water plants.
In fact, he started shamblingly toward the brake where the boys were concealed with leveled rifles and fingers on triggers. But the great creature’s life was spared, for that time at least, for had the boys fired he must have fallen at the first bullets from the high-powered rifles. After advancing a few paces, he changed his mind and, grumbling to himself, he shuffled off and was soon lost in the gloom of the forest.
“We ought to have shot him, Jack,” muttered Billy as they started back to camp with what game they bagged.
“What, kill a fine old warrior like that without cause? Could you have done it, Billy?”
“Um – well – er – no, I don’t believe I could,” rejoined his chum. “After all, that crocodile started the scrap and – and I guess every American likes a good fighter.”
CHAPTER XXXIV. – A FIGHT WITH A HORNBILL
“Now me showee you something.”
It was during the noon rest the next day and the Malay had asked the whites to come a little distance apart from the camp to a fine-looking banyan tree. They watched him with interest as with the axe he cut down several lengths of bamboo from a nearby cluster, and, pointing the ends sharply, having first separated the lengths into bits about two feet long, began driving them into the yielding bark of the tree. In this way he had soon made the first four rounds of a primitive ladder.
Although, as yet, he had given them no hint of the object of all this, they were all sure that he had something really of interest to show them and forbore asking questions till he was ready to explain the mystery. Salloo had driven the tenth round of his queer ladder and was about ten feet from the ground, when Jack drew everybody’s attention to a strange hissing sound that appeared to come from within the tree.
“Look out for snakes, Salloo,” he warned. But the Malay only nodded his head confidently and smiled. Donald glanced about nervously. Even Captain Sparhawk looked apprehensive. As for Muldoon, he shouted, “This is no place for a son of St. Patrick,” and fled back to camp.
“What’s the matter, Salloo?” asked Mr. Jukes. “Are you in trouble?”
“No trouble, Missel Boss,” rejoined Salloo. “Only bit what you callee good luck,” grinned the Malay, looking down on them and continuing his work.
“How good luck?” asked Jack.
“You see plenty soon,” was the cryptic reply, and the Malay drew another sharp-pointed peg from his girdle and drove it in with vigorous strokes of the axe. While he did this, the hissing continued, mingled with a hoarse roaring like that which might be emitted by a disabled foghorn. Moreover, they could now see that a few feet above Salloo’s head was an object which alternately was thrust out from the tree trunk and withdrawn. It was white and sharp-pointed, like one of the pegs he was driving. It was assuredly not a snake’s head, as they had for a minute thought, but what was it?
“What’s that right over your head, Salloo?” asked Captain Sparhawk.
“Him buld (bird), captain. Him plentee much bigee buld.”
“Oh, only a bird,” said Mr. Jukes in a disappointed voice. “What sort of a one?”
“Him hornbill. Ole hen hornbill. She on nest. Old man hornbill he shut her up in there so she no leave eggs. Him put mud over crack in tree so as she no put nothing but her beak out. That the way he feedee her.”
So that was the explanation of that object that darted in and out, and also of the hissing and grunting sounds. Looking closer, they now saw that at the spot where the bill still kept darting in and out there was a big longitudinal patch of mud which walled the hen hornbill up as effectually as certain prisoners were “walled up” in the days of old. As Salloo got within reaching distance of the nest, he raised his axe and smashed the mud wall before any of the party could check him. The next instant his bare arm was plunged fearlessly into the orifice and came out with his fingers clutching the old hen by the neck. In a moment she was fluttering, with her neck wrung, at the adventurers’ feet.
“Say, Salloo, you shouldn’t have done that,” called up Jack indignantly. “That’s a shame.”
The rest echoed his indignation at what seemed an act of wanton cruelty. Salloo only looked astonished.
“Him plenty good eat. Roast hornbill plenty fine.”
“You see, he takes a different point of view about these things than we do,” said Captain Sparhawk. “You can’t blame him. Still I wish we could have prevented it.”
They examined the dead hornbill with much interest. It was a gorgeous bird, almost as big as a turkey, with a bill of a size altogether disproportionate to even its large size. This beak was like a gigantic parrot’s bill and the horny structure extended over almost the entire head of the bird. It was not unlike the one the boys had shot the night before and thrown away as not good for food.
“Plentee eggs in there,” said Salloo as he came down, “but they no good eat.”
“Well, I’m glad there were no young ones to be starved through our interference,” said Billy, and the others felt as he did.
“Say, I’m going to have a look at that nest,” said Jack suddenly.
“All right. But look out you don’t fall and break your neck,” warned Raynor. Jack went nimbly up Salloo’s queer ladder and soon reached a height where he could see into the nest, which was built in a cavity of the tree and had afterward been carefully walled up with mud, strengthened by weaving reeds into it. Jack was still examining the nest when a sudden shadow fell over him. He looked up and above him he saw, with somewhat of a shock, a great bird whose plumage flashed brilliantly in the sun and whose huge beak snapped viciously at the boy.
“Look out, look out, him father hornbill,” cried Salloo from the ground.
The hornbill made a swoop at Jack, aiming with that cruel beak straight for his eyes. The boy put up an arm to defend himself, but the bird seized it with its parrot-like claws, scratching it badly, and all the while it kept up a beating of its wings that blinded the boy. Then the bird suddenly changed its tactics. It swooped off and then made a swift dash at the boy’s head. It was well for Jack that he had on his stiff sun helmet or his skull would have been cracked like an egg by that huge, horny bill. As it was, the helmet was ripped open.
Those below called on him to come down. But the attacks of the great bird so blinded and bewildered him that he was unable to move a step. Billy, at the order of Captain Sparhawk, brought a rifle from the camp, but so close did the bird stay to the boy that there was danger in using it. Even the most expert of shots would have been quite as likely to hit Jack as the enraged hornbill.
Salloo had sprung into the tree, and with his ever ready kriss was ascending to the rescue when Captain Sparhawk saw an opportunity. The rifle was already at his shoulder and, as the hornbill rose and hovered for an instant before making another plunge at Jack’s head, his finger pressed the trigger. A splendid shot, a broken wing, the huge bird fluttered to the earth and flopped and screamed on the ground till its strugglings were put an end to by another bullet. Jack remained where he was for a few seconds to recover his nerves and then, still somewhat shaken by his experience, he descended.
His arm was badly scratched and Captain Sparhawk was opening the medicine chest when Salloo intervened. He quickly gathered a handful of a plant that exuded a sort of thick milk. Crushing the gathered stems on a stone, he soon had a quantity of this juice, which he spread on the wounds. The irritation at once left them and Salloo promised a speedy cure. But it may be said that Jack had no appetite for roast hornbill that night.
CHAPTER XXXV. – THE HEART OF NEW GUINEA
The expedition now found itself advancing through forest that grew sparser as they progressed. The ground was rapidly becoming more rugged. Close to them now towered the range known as the Kini-Balu among the wild recesses of which the tribe of that name made its home. Constant vigilance was the watchword of the hour now. Salloo would permit no fires to be lighted, and he and his followers were constantly scouting in front of the party, while additional watch was kept at the rear and on both flanks.
It was dangerous, thrilling work, but the boys, who loved adventure, relished every moment of it. But Donald Judson lived a life of misery. Every rustle in the bush made him turn pale. He was constantly giving false alarms in the night and the boys heartily wished he had been left behind. One afternoon – they were right in the mountains now – Salloo halted the party with a quick gesture.
“Two men ahead of us. Up the mountain. Salloo go, look, see.”
He glided off with his usual snake-like agility and vanished in a flash, while the party waited behind a mighty rock, for cover of the forest kind was growing scarce now. A wilder region would have been hard to imagine. The cliffs and mountains were of all sorts of extravagant shapes. Some of the larger rocks and peaks took on the outlines of monstrous animals. But they were still following a trail which was undoubtedly the one set down in red ink on Broom’s map.
Through the glasses, which they were able to use without being observed, by crouching down in the coarse grass, they could see Salloo advancing toward the two figures on the mountain side. As he went he was making the peace sign, extending his arms as if inviting the others to attack him at their will. But as far as they could see, the meeting was friendly enough. Salloo conversed with the two men of the mountain for a long time. Then he could be seen retracing his steps.
“Well?” demanded everybody as he returned to the camp.
“Ebblyting good so far,” reported Salloo. “Those two men velly old men. They left behind when tribe go to war in the north.”
“Then the country is free of danger?” cried Donald.
Salloo turned a look of contempt on him and did not answer. Addressing the others, he continued:
“They say they know of cave. But no know if white man is there,” went on the Malay.
“Would they be willing to guide us to it?” inquired Mr. Jukes.
“That me no know yet. Me go see ’em again to-night,” replied Salloo. “They say nobody but old men, women and children left behind now tribe go to war. So maybe they no afraid to show us. You pay ’em good?”
“Anything, any sum at all,” was the response of the millionaire. “No sum is too great to restore my brother to his family.”
When night fell Salloo left the camp again and did not return till midnight. He brought the news that the two old men would guide them for three pieces of gold each. They did not want the coins to spend, explained Salloo, but to pierce and wear round their necks as ornaments.
“I’ll make it six each,” declared Mr. Jukes, “if they lead us aright.”
There was little sleep for anybody that night, and soon after daybreak the two old men appeared in the camp. They were odd-looking old fellows; unclothed except for a breech cloth, and were daubed with red and yellow earth, signifying that their tribe was at war, although their age barred them from taking part.
At Salloo’s suggestion, only himself, Mr. Jukes, Jack and Billy were to accompany the guides. The others were to remain behind and keep as well under cover as they could till the rest returned with success or failure. Final instructions having been given, they set off behind the two old men, who chattered volubly with Salloo as they went. They knew of the cave, it appeared, but nothing more, for they did not come from that part of the mountains.
The next day they were not far from the cave, their aged guides told them, and Salloo enjoined the strictest caution in proceeding. If they met a returning war party, their position would be ticklish in the extreme, he declared, and they readily agreed with him.
It was not long after this that, high up on the mountain side, they became aware of a dark hole. The two old men chattered and pointed, and then Salloo said:
“There him cave. You wait here. Salloo go, look, see.”
He made off up the mountain with the two old tribesmen, while the others waited with what patience they could for his return. The boys had never seen Mr. Jukes so nervous. He could not keep still under the tension, but paced to and fro, regardless of Salloo’s advice to keep under cover.
“He is taking his time,” said Jack after a long interval.
“Perhaps something has happened to him,” said Mr. Jukes, apprehensively. “We’d better have our pistols ready. Hark! what was that?”
There was a rustling in the bushes near at hand and they all sprang to their feet, only to burst into laughter a minute later when a rock coney, or small rabbit, emerged, looked at them for an instant and then vanished.
“That shows how we are keyed up,” said Jack. “We’ve got to keep our nerve or we shall be useless if any emergency did happen.”
As he spoke, something whizzed over their heads and then sank quivering in the ground not far from them. They looked round and saw standing not far off two hideous natives, with frizzed hair and painted faces and bodies. Both were wounded and apparently had been sent back from “the front.” But still there was a chance that they might be the advance guard of a big body of troops.
“We friends,” cried Jack, giving the peace sign as he had seen Salloo give it.
The natives merely stared, and there is no knowing what might have been the outcome, but at that moment there came a hail from high up on the mountain and the old tribesmen and Salloo began coming toward them. The natives awaited their coming with their eyes fixed on the whites. As soon as Salloo and the others arrived there was a long confab and Salloo explained that the two warriors said that the main body of the savage troops was not far off, and that they had been sent back on account of their wounds. They had thrown the spear because they thought the whites were coming to invade their country. When Salloo explained the object of their errand, everything appeared to be satisfactory.
“Now we go to the cave,” said Salloo, at the end of these negotiations. “Him velly big one, me think.”
“Did you – did you see any trace of my brother?” asked Mr. Jukes anxiously.
“Me no see anything yet,” was the reply. “Me only go little way into cave.”
“Then come, let us start at once,” said Mr. Jukes, stepping nimbly over the rough ground, in spite of his cumbersome build.
As Salloo had said, the cave was a large one. It ran back fully a mile under the mountain. But they paid little attention to its natural beauties, so eager were they to find some trace of Jerushah Jukes. To one side was a swiftly flowing stream. They did not doubt that it came from a waterfall, the noise of which they could hear in the distance.
Before long they stood in front of the waterfall, a beautiful ribbon of water falling fully a hundred feet into a clear pool. A sort of mist hung over the pool caused by the spray, which was lighted by a rift in the rocks above. It was a lovely sight and even in their anxiety to get on they could not help standing and admiring it for a few minutes.
“By the way, Salloo,” said Jack abruptly, “how about that ghost that is supposed to haunt the cave?”
“Me no know. Me – ”
“Look, look, the ghost!” cried Raynor suddenly. He pointed straight in front of him at the fall.
“Great Scott!” exclaimed Jack as he too perceived an apparition that appeared to rise out of the waters. Salloo fell flat on his face in terror and so did the two old natives, who had been their guides.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Mr. Jukes sharply. “I see nothing. I – for heaven’s sake!”
Out of the mist of the pool he had seen advancing toward him as he stepped forward the gigantic form of a man. Then he glanced again.
The ghost was Mr. Jukes himself, who certainly had nothing spiritualistic about him. The explanation of the queer sight struck the boys and the millionaire at the same instant. The sun, shining through the rift, was reflected upon the wet rock which in turn projected their figures against the watery mist that hung above the pool.
“And so that’s the ghost that’s been scaring the natives to death,” said Jack. “Get up, Salloo, and I’ll show you how the trick is done.”
After a brief demonstration the Malay was satisfied, but the two old men were unconvinced. They mumbled and were ill at ease till that part of the cave was left behind.
“Hullo, here’s a path leading up past the waterfall,” cried Jack suddenly.
“So there is. Let’s see where it goes,” cried Billy. They started up the slippery footway very slowly so as to avoid the consequences of a slip. As they went it grew lighter. They were coming to the upper world once more. A minute later and they emerged upon a small plateau in the heart of the mountains. It was surrounded by steep precipices. In the centre stood a group of bamboo huts.
At sight of the white men, several women and children set up a shrill cry. Suddenly above the hub-bub came a voice that brought a thrill to them all:
“Has help come at last?”
From behind one of the huts had stepped a tall, angular figure, wearing ragged white clothes and a battered sun helmet. Perched on his nose were a pair of huge horn-rimmed spectacles, a ragged, unkempt beard covered his face and his hair hung in matted locks about his shoulders.
At the sight of him, Mr. Jukes gave a gasp and then a glad cry.
