Natives watched us here, as everywhere, and when we lay to a score of dugouts were pushed into the water and filled with Indians who soon swarmed along our side. Chaka now kept out of their sight, fearing to be recognized, and Allerton called to one lot of natives which showed an impudent disposition to board us, to keep off or take the consequences. They were astonished to hear a white man speak the Maya tongue and declared they wanted to come aboard to “trade.” Allerton replied that we had nothing to trade and would proceed at once on our way north.
This did not seem to satisfy them. They were all copper-colored, athletic fellows, quick and nervous in action and with jet-black eyes which glinted fiercely. They seemed utterly unafraid of us and one boat load of four made a sudden dash up our side, leaping to seize a rope ladder we had left swaying from the bulwarks and climbing it with the agility of cats.
Ned Britton happened to be watching that spot and the burly mate grasped the first native by an arm, swung him clear of the side, and then hurled him bodily at the others following. All four went down with a rush, disappearing below the surface of the placid water, while their comrades screamed an angry defiance and sent a volley of small slender darts—which reminded me of arrows—aimed at every head showing above the side. We had no trouble in dodging them, but Allerton warned us they were poisoned and we did not relish such an attack.
Captain Steele had already rung to go ahead and we gathered way and moved from our dangerous position as quickly as possible. The natives Ned had dislodged scrambled into their boat again, but the fellow he had seized seemed to have a broken arm and howled lustily as his comrades dragged him aboard.
The Mopanes showed no disposition to follow us and as we gained the open sea we observed them paddling back to the shore.
“A pretty reception, I must say!” growled Archie in disgust. “So that’s the sort of vermin we’re supposed to tackle, is it?”
“I imagine this is only a sample of their peculiarities,” mused Joe.
“Mopanes bad Indians,” admitted Chaka, who had now come on deck again.
“Well, I suppose we must take them as we find them,” I rejoined, with a sigh. “The trouble seems to be that no one has taken pains to civilize them.”
“What’s our plan now, sir?” asked Ned, turning to Allerton.
“We’ll stand out until darkness comes on, and then return to the bay with all lights out and disembark as silently as possible,” was the answer. “We rely on the usual native custom of ‘sleeping nights and fighting days’ to shield us from observation. We have now created the impression that we have sailed away for good, and as ships are a rarity in this latitude the Mopanes will all retire to their villages back in the forest and go to bed. That will give us a chance to land, make our preparation and get a good start on the secret trail leading to the Itzaex country.”
“Meantime, what’s to become of the ship?” asked Ned.
“Captain Steele and his men will stand on and off the coast until our return. We have arranged a series of signals so that he will know when we approach, and come in to meet us. His task will be a tedious one, for if all goes well it will take us at least two or three weeks to make our journey and accomplish our purpose. Still, we may be driven back at once, and need succor any day, especially if Chaka’s people refuse to recognize his authority and show us hostilities.”
“In that case,” said I, “the adventure will become hopeless, will it not?”
Allerton looked sober and did not reply. Chaka was quite undisturbed by the suggestion of disloyalty on the part of his tribesmen and said, “If we can fight Mopanes, we also can fight Itzaex.”
“But the chests!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering the baggage. “What is to become of them? One contains our supplies, you know, and I imagine all are quite necessary to us. Yet how will nine people be able to lug seven heavy chests through a forest trail, beset with dangers?”
“Our outfits,” explained Allerton, “are contained in three of the chests, so when we have emptied those of their contents they may be left behind. The other four will be provided with gas-jackets and wheels. One man is sufficient to propel each one of them.”
I admit I looked and felt puzzled at this statement.
“And now,” continued our leader, “it is time for us to begin our preparations, while there is a scrap of daylight. We may also light our decks for a time, but on nearing shore we shall be black as night.”
The crew of the Seagull, having been already apprised of our adventure and scenting the prize money promised them, were every one eager to be of assistance. The chests were brought on deck and three of them opened.
“We must now shed for a time all European customs and clothing,” announced Paul. “From this moment we assume the outfits I have provided for the occasion.”
While the sailors looked on curiously he asked Archie to strip and dress for his part. The boy quickly shed his apparel, even to his underclothes, for Allerton gave him first of all a union-suit “mosquito proof”, and—as we later found—fairly proof against the poisoned darts of the natives. Knickerbockers and gaiters of a curious woven gauze material—pliable metal, in fact—came next, and the gas-jacket covered all the rest of his body save the head.
“The jacket is also an armor,” observed Allerton; “and, while it must be worn all the time, night and day, it need not be inflated until necessary to acquire lightness. The gas tank generator weighs but six ounces and will be worn with the jacket, so it may be ready in any emergency. It is the same with the eight electrites, which we eight adventurers will keep constantly at our sides. The extra belts must, of course, remain in one of the chests until needed, as will the extra supply of themlyne.”
He then supplied Archie with a head-mask of curious design. The top was like a pith helmet, very light and the more comfortable because it did not rest upon the head but upon a globe of woven wire, in which the boy’s entire head was encased.
This material, as transparent as a fine gauze screen, was so strong that when Allerton tested it by jumping on it with both feet it scarcely bent at all.
“This is a protection from gnats and mosquitoes, darts and arrows, and all other venomous things,” said Paul. “I think we shall find them quite comfortable when we get used to them.”
Being attached to a collar, with straps underneath the arms, these masks remained stationary, allowing the wearer to move his head in any direction, although he could not lower his chin very much. High leather shoes, lined with the same material, and pliable gauze gauntlets for the hands and arms, completed this remarkable attire. When Archie had slung his gun over his shoulder and stuck a brace of revolvers and a bowie into his belt, he certainly looked as curious as any individual that ever walked.
I am quite sure that this description of Allerton’s outfit will lead the reader to think it exceedingly clumsy and unmanageable; and such, at first was my own opinion. But subsequent use proved the contrary. Walking around to test his “rigging,” as he called it, Archie declared he was not uncomfortable in the least. Everything was very light in weight, and the gauze garments were cooler than the clothing he had been accustomed to. Yucatan is a hot country, but not insufferably so, owing to the prevailing breeze that comes from the sea in either direction. Allerton had realized this in preparing his outfits.
While the rest of us, using Archie as an example, proceeded to dress ourselves in a like manner, Allerton and Chaka were busily engaged in drawing especially prepared gas-jackets over the four chests we were to take with us. These coverings were then inflated with themlyne until the heavy boxes became so light that I could lift any one of them with one hand. No other gas known to science possesses so great buoyancy; a small volume of it overcame weight—i. e., the attraction of gravitation—to a wonderful degree. A single wire wheel with a broad, flat tire, was now attached to the front end of each chest, and two handles to the rear, converting the baggage into quaint looking wheelbarrows.
This task completed, Paul looked at a heap of material on the deck and said, as if the thought had just occurred to him:
“I see I have an extra outfit.” He turned to look at the interested group of sailors. “Will any one of you lads venture to join us?” he asked.
With one accord they stepped forward and touched their caps.
“Thank you, my friends,” said Allerton gratefully. “I’ll take Pedro, I think. He’s a native of this part of the world and therefore especially fit to stand the climate. Will you come, Pedro?”
I thought his face showed a trace of embarrassment, perhaps chagrin, at being chosen; but he stepped up alertly enough and was assisted into his toggery.
“Unfortunately,” remarked the lieutenant, “I was able to procure but eight electrites, so Pedro must depend wholly upon his firearms for protection.”
Pedro grinned and nodded at hearing this. He was wholly ignorant of what an electrite might be. But he could handle a gun all right, he said, and a good keen knife was his pet weapon. With these by his side he felt perfectly safe.
Uncle Naboth laughed immoderately as we lined up on the deck, while Speckles, the boatswain, who was now to act as mate to Captain Steele, threw a searchlight over the group. For it was quite dark by this time and we were again headed back toward the bay where we were to disembark.
Nux and Bryonia, our stalwart blacks, seemed gigantic in their novel equipment. Ned was almost as huge a figure, while the rest of us, including Chaka, sized up to a fair and even imposing average. Pedro laughed at us too, and at himself, while the sailors were frankly amused at our appearance. I was myself somewhat influenced by the humor of the situation, for while I have undertaken many adventures during my brief life I was never so garbed before—nor was any other man, for that matter. We were the original gas-jacketed, electrite-armed, mosquito-and-dart-proof adventurers of the world!
Allerton and Chaka were serious enough, however, to warn us that our fun was somewhat ill-timed. We were on the eve of a desperate and important undertaking.
“Time to blacken up, my lads,” said father, who never neglected a sharp lookout. So every light aboard was quickly “doused” except the shielded one of the binnacle.
The night seemed especially favorable, although Paul said that starlight would be as good for us as an overcast sky, provided the natives were at home and asleep. If by chance they were prowling around they would see us anyhow. But, for my part, I concluded it was just as well the white Seagull did not show too plainly from shore against the deep blue water. Those Mopanes had sharp eyes, and if they observed our approach from the forest there would promptly be something doing.
Well, we crept into the bay quietly enough, after all, only one muffled engine doing duty, and approached the south bend of the shore as closely as we dared. The boats were already on the davits, the oars wrapped with canvas to prevent their creaking. Into one we loaded the wheelbarrow chests and then our little band took places in the others.
I did not fail to press my father’s hand before I left the deck. Our affection is fervent and strong, thank God, and we understand one another perfectly. I knew the grim old fellow gave me a prayer in his heart and trusted a tender Providence to send his boy back to him in safety; but never a word of protest or caution did he utter. It might unnerve me, and was not needed.
With scarcely a sound our keels ground on the beach. It required but a few moments to land and carry the chests to the shore, and then we shook hands, one and all, with the seamen and knew we had their best wishes for our success. They returned to the ship at once, and we adventurers quickly prepared to follow Chaka, who from this moment assumed the lead. Nux and Bryonia each trundled a chest, as did also Pedro and Ned. The things were so light that if we came to a rough place the men raised them bodily and carried them across.
CHAPTER VIII
WE FIGHT A GOOD FIGHT
In five minutes we were threading the underbrush, a difficult task because it grew so thickly; but fortunately it was not of great extent and a journey of fifteen minutes brought us to the edge of the forest.
Chaka had marked his way by sighting a group of three giant mahoganies whose spreading tops formed a perfect triangle. He paused a moment just in the center of this group, pushed aside a bunch of tangled vines and with a grunt of satisfaction led us into a broad, well defined trail. This, we understood, was the route followed by the Itzaex when they invaded the territory of the Mopanes, in order to gather turtle, or to fish. Such invasions had always been bitterly contested, but Chaka’s people were never deterred from an undertaking by the prospects of a fight.
It seems strange that after nine years this Indian boy should remember the place at all. Chaka was but fifteen when picked up by Allerton, and he certainly did not look his twenty-four years now. Civilized life had not taught him to forget his boyish adventures, and Allerton must have placed implicit confidence in the Maya, since all our plans and hopes were based upon his assertions and his knowledge of the country.
Joe, Archie and I, who had often talked over these things, could not yet decide how far the lieutenant was justified in his unswerving trust. We liked Chaka and believed in him; but might he not be deceiving himself as well as us in many important details—especially those regarding the Tcha and the hidden city? It was all hearsay, after all, the tale of the old atkayma, who might easily have exaggerated his experiences.
It was dark as Erebus in the forest. I can’t imagine how Chaka found his way so accurately. But he seldom hesitated, leading us forward at a steady gait and only pausing when the narrow way obliged us to use our best inventive genius in getting the chests between the trees. Once or twice we had to make a detour through wild and tangled underbrush and networks of vines, in order to squeeze the chests into the trail again, and all this delayed us considerably.
After three hours of dogged progress we stopped to rest, and now Chaka flashed a dark lantern on the scene, believing we were so far from the Mopane villages that the light would not be seen. That helped some, as you may imagine, and it seemed to me, with my limited knowledge of such things, that we had covered at least a dozen miles of forest path when Allerton called a halt and said we would sleep until daylight.
We dozed in our outfits, just as we were, not venturing to remove any part of our armor for fear of a surprise. Nor were we at all uncomfortable. I remember that I dropped down upon the leaves and moss just where I had stood, thoroughly tired by the long march. There was little fear of scorpions, serpents or other vermin, since we were so well protected, and I for one needed no lullaby to send me fast asleep.
Chaka and Allerton kept watch by turns, on this occasion, and I heard Paul rebuking “my brother Chaka” for not calling him when he should have done so.
I thought it must still be night when they wakened me, and in truth I was not at all ready to get up; but when I rose and rubbed my eyes I could dimly discern the trunks of the trees all about me, with small patches of gray sky showing here and there through the tops; so I realized it was time to tramp on again.
Allerton unlocked a chest and gave us each a cup of hot coffee from thermos bottles, where it had been placed aboard ship. We ate some biscuits, too, and felt greatly refreshed.
All had proceeded so nicely thus far that my original fears as to the dangerous nature of this undertaking had become lulled. It was cool and pleasant under the shade of the trees as we started on again, and the song birds were in full chorus.
Suddenly Chaka, who led us, stopped short and held up his hand. Instantly Paul was beside him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A hunting party. Warriors. Many,” returned the Maya, his head bent forward, listening intently.
“Are they Itzaex, my brother?”
“Mopanes!” said Chaka.
“Does it mean fight, then?”
“It means fight, my brother.”
Silently we had stood listening to this. Now we prepared for action.
“Use your firearms first,” commanded Allerton; “and then, if necessary, the electrites. But remember we must save every charge in the batteries that we can.”
We placed the four chests on end in a row, forming a scanty bulwark, and took station behind them. The party of Mopanes, evidently returning to their villages from a hunting expedition, were now heard noisily jabbering in the distance, the sounds gradually drawing nearer. It seemed they knew and used this trail as well as the Itzaex did, although Chaka had called it a “secret trail.” How many we were about to face we could not conjecture, but none of us showed or felt much fear. Indeed, I am inclined to think we one and all welcomed the chance to prove the qualities of our equipment. I was sorry to receive orders not to fire the electrite, being curious to know how effective these queer weapons would be; but I well knew Allerton was right in husbanding our supply of stored electricity. We might need every charge badly before we had played the game to the end.
The trail wound irregularly here and there through the dense forest, but for some seventy yards ahead it came straight toward us, broader and more open than in most places, which was all to our disadvantage. This was offset by the fact that the natives had no suspicion an enemy was in their path. They were between the Itzaex and their own people, and imagined they had nothing to fear. Not even a scout had been sent ahead. They rounded the curve in a dense mass, chattering and laughing until they caught sight of us standing motionless in the trail. Then their astonishment was genuine enough.
I think, had they found us garbed in the same manner as all white men who had visited their coast had been, that there might have been chance for a parley; but our appearance was so strange that they did not hesitate a moment about attacking us. The first of the band, which numbered about a hundred warriors, had scarcely halted when their wicked darts began to fly in our direction.
These darts, the most dangerous weapons employed by the Maya tribes, are slim strips of a tough vine, cut and hardened in the sun until they become nearly as hard as steel. One end is sharpened and coated with a deadly vegetable poison; the other has a flat piece of bark inserted in a notch to give it “wings.” The darts are carried in a bark sheath and are hurled with amazing swiftness and accuracy. The Maya tribes also use bows and arrows, as well as long spears with heads of sharpened stone or iron. But these latter weapons are most serviceable in hunting; in a fight the Mayas depend largely upon the darts, a prick from one of the points sending its poison coursing through the veins of the victim, who expires in agony in a few minutes.
It may be the distance was in our favor; anyway the darts rattled against our armor harmlessly enough. And we did not give the enemy time to come nearer, just then. Taking careful aim we returned a volley from our rifles which, backed by the thick mass of howling Indians, did terrible execution. Nearly a score fell where they stood and the others took to instant flight.
I felt much elated by our success until I noticed Chaka shaking his head as if greatly annoyed. There was little opportunity to inquire the reason, for in a surprisingly brief space of time a dart struck full upon my headgear, and so sharp was the slender point that it stuck in the meshes and hung there. Another and another dart followed, from this or that side and even from behind us. The cunning Mopanes had leaped into the thicket and surrounded us, from their concealment being enabled to attack us with impunity. Arrows also flew, striking us sharp blows. A spear knocked Pedro clean off his feet, but failed to wound him, as it struck against his impervious gas-jacket.
“We must get out of this!” exclaimed Allerton. “It’s a regular trap.”
“Come!” cried Chaka.
We followed his lead. The blacks, Ned and Pedro wheeled the chests while we others walked beside them and took a shot at every head that showed in the jungle.
It proved somewhat revolting to climb over the dead and dying that cluttered the way just ahead. One wounded Mopane struck at my leg with a knife and tried to grab me; but I clubbed him over the head with my rifle and he fell back and lay still.
There seemed no escape for us, as the rascals were able to follow through the brushwood almost as fast as we covered the trail; but Chaka moved rapidly on, increasing his pace until we were all on a jog-trot, and at last we understood his reason.
The path opened abruptly into a vast clearing, nearly a quarter of a mile in extent. It had been created originally by a forest fire, as the charred trunks of trees testified. Near the center was a small pool of stagnant water.
We ran to the edge of this pool and, facing around once more, prepared to defend ourselves. If the natives remained in the forest their weapons were comparatively harmless; if they cared to “rush” our position we had decidedly the best of it.
They were in no hurry to decide, it seemed. After hurling a few darts and shooting a few arrows they ceased activities for a full hour, during which time we sat on the chests and got our breath back so we could discuss the situation.
“How far are we from Itzlan?” inquired Allerton.
Chaka considered.
“About two hours’ journey, Brother Paul,” he replied.
“Two hours from the boundaries, I suppose,” said Paul. “And how far from the City of Itza?”
“Two days, my brother.”
That was not very encouraging.
“It seems to me,” said Archie, “a good plan would be to send Chaka on to his people as a scout. He could sneak through the enemy all right. And then he could bring his people to our rescue.”
“No,” replied Allerton, “I cannot afford to risk Chaka on such a mission. If we lose him, we lose everything. I am quite sure the Mopanes cannot seriously injure us. We simply must devote the necessary time to fighting them off, and then continue our journey.”
CHAPTER IX
WE FIND OURSELVES OUTNUMBERED
The space or clearing in which we had sought refuge was covered thickly with bushes averaging from two to three feet in height. They were green with a thick-leaved foliage, and as I sat idly looking at them it occurred to me they were very pretty in such a place and relieved the dismal appearance of the charred stumps. Presently I decided, as the sun was now beating down upon our heads, to crawl underneath the nearest clump of bushes and seek coolness in their shade. This I proceeded to do, dropping on hands and knees and creeping beneath the leafy covering while my friends eyed me curiously.
Next moment I experienced one of the greatest surprises of my life. I was not quite concealed by the network of bushes when my head bumped suddenly against something hard, and lifting my encased face with some difficulty I found a Mopane Indian lying flat upon his belly, his eyes—not a yard away—glaring viciously into mine. I think he must have been fully as much astonished as I was.
In such emergencies I have a bad habit of acting first and considering afterward; so before I realized what I was doing I had pulled a revolver and sent a bullet into the fellow’s skull. He gave a yell that was startling and sprang full upon his feet before he toppled over dead.
His cry was echoed from fifty throats. From every part of the bush arose Mopanes who rushed at us with one accord. Some of them had crawled pretty near. As I sat up I faced one at arm’s length and let go another shot from the revolver I held.
Meantime my comrades quickly recovered from the momentary paralysis caused by the suddenness of the assault and stood their ground bravely. I was very proud of their coolness. Nux and Bryonia, Ned, Archie and Joe were all splendid fighters and even Mexican Pedro seemed void of fear as he plugged shot after shot at his assailants. Altogether, the affray was too hot for the Mopanes and they soon scampered back to the woods for shelter. As they went we picked off as many of them as we could, for the more we rendered hors de combat the better chance we had to escape.
They were not likely to repeat this attempt again. Another long wait followed.
“I hate to lose so much ammunition on the fools,” grumbled Allerton. “Be shy, my lads, of wasting a single shot; our work has hardly begun yet.”
This stealthy attack of the natives gave Chaka an idea, however. After consulting with his “Brother Paul” he hid behind the chests and deliberately began divesting himself of all the trappings he had until now worn. When I glanced at him, presently, there sat our Maya on the ground, arrayed only in his copper colored skin and a white loin cloth. In the folds of the latter he concealed a knife and a small revolver. Then, lying flat, he wriggled himself into the bushes and was soon lost to view.
I tried to follow his course, but so expert a woodsman was Chaka that not a movement of a leaf betrayed his whereabouts.
“What’s his object, Paul?” I asked.
“He’s going to explore the path at the other side of the clearing, where he believes the trees are so open that the Mopanes won’t dare follow us. If that is so we won’t wait for the next move the devils make, but break for the trail at once and fight our way on to the Itzaex country.”
“Very good,” said I; “anything is better than this.” And so we sat and waited patiently for our spy to return.
Meantime, as it was getting near noon, we took advantage of the lull in hostilities to eat our luncheon. The food refreshed us very much, and Archie, who has always some longing unsatisfied, bewailed the fact that we had no ice on such a sultry day. I knew that we had ice, but said nothing of it. In Allerton’s thermos chest reposed a fine cake of the crystallized fluid which, with other things, he was reserving for “emergencies.”
Fully two hours had passed before we observed Chaka’s naked body come bounding through the clearing without any attempt at concealment. Evidently he was in a state of great excitement. Skirting the edge of the pool he came directly toward us, disregarding the arrows and darts that rained upon him from the nearest edge of the forest. Then, with a final bound he fell flat at our feet, sobbing in a very ecstasy of grief and despair.
We looked at one another wonderingly as Allerton knelt down, took his friend’s head in his lap and stroked the dark hair as tenderly as a woman might have done. He asked no questions until Chaka’s passionate sobbing was gradually subdued.
“My poor brother!” he said in the Itzaex dialect.
Chaka seized his hands and pressed them.
“It is my father, dear Paul!” he said, miserably. “They have killed the atkayma—they have murdered him!”
“Who has done this, my brother?” inquired Allerton.
“The Mopanes.”
We others looked upon the scene silently, forbearing comment. I realized, for my part, that the old atkayma’s death might seriously affect the success of our enterprise; but I had not suspected Chaka was so fond of his royal father, having left him to his own devices for so many years.
As for that, however, I had not reckoned on the horror of the thing, although I might have appreciated better Chaka’s sensitive nature, so astonishing in one born to a savage life.
Before long the youth was able to tell his story, and he told it none too soon, either.
“I found the trail,” said he, speaking his own tongue, which we all understood save Pedro and Archie—and perhaps the latter caught a few words. “I ran along it swiftly for some distance. Then I heard shouts and the Mopane war song of victory. I knew another band of those devils was approaching us and hid myself to count their numbers. They are many, oh my brother! There has been war, and for this once my people have been defeated. I know not where the battle was fought nor how many were engaged; but victory is with our enemies. On their spears they bear the heads of many brave Itzaex; foremost among them is that of the great, the noble atkayma—my father!”
He broke down again, to renew his sobs.
“Poor Chaka!” said Paul.
There was no time left us for more parley. We began to hear the shouts of the approaching hosts and must prepare for a desperate defense. It was all right for Chaka to grieve over his father; it struck me as a curious coincidence that just as the royal son arrived in his own country, after an absence of many years, the aged atkayma of the Itzaex met his fate at the hands of his persistent enemies.
The Mopanes deployed into the clearing in a dense throng, exultantly shouting their savage paeans. Some blew shrill blasts on conch shells; one or two battered energetically the native kettledrums, made from tortoise shells over which skins were tightly stretched.
At once the new arrivals were joined by the remnant of the band that had first attacked us. I say “remnant” because we must have slain or wounded nearly half of their original number. With eager exclamations they pointed in our direction, and the eyes of every warrior examined us intently. They were standing some distance away, but we could observe their every action distinctly. One huge fellow, who bore a spear with a grinning head set on its point, leaped upon a stump and began haranguing the others, who listened respectfully to his words.
“I wonder if this pop-gun will carry so far,” remarked Archie, and before any could interfere he took careful aim and fired. The chief—as he seemed to be—leaped fully three feet into the air, uttering a terrible cry, and as he fell his people caught him in their arms. But I am sure he was dead or desperately wounded.
This warning induced them all to withdraw into the forest, where doubtless they held a council of war.
CHAPTER X
WE ESCAPE ANNIHILATION
Meantime we nine, trapped as we were, prepared for defense against an army of natives.
“Won’t it be better to use the electrites, sir?” inquired Joe. “There must be three or four hundred of those fellows, at least, and if they rush us we won’t stand much show.”
“I fear even the electrites wouldn’t save us in that event,” replied Allerton, whose face showed anxiety for the first time. “I think we should stand ready to inflate our gas-jackets, however, so if the worst happens we may escape by rising into the air. Fortunately the pool will supply us with water to generate the themlyne crystals. But let us wait until all other means fail and our lives are actually in danger.” He turned to Chaka, who still lay upon his face, and said: “My brother must resume his outfit, so as to be able to fight with us.”
The Maya made no reply, nor did he rise or attempt to resume the clumsy garments he had discarded.
At Paul’s suggestion we hastily cut a quantity of the thick bushes and piled them high in a circle surrounding our position—so high that we could just stand erect and aim our rifles over the top of the frail barricade. The bushes were no protection, but they prevented the savages from aiming at our bodies. The task was quickly accomplished and then we arranged our ammunition handily and prepared to fight as long as fighting was possible.
“Don’t volley,” counseled Allerton; “fire in steady, regular order, according to the numbers I will give you. Such a continual discharge is likely to be the most effectual.”
He had scarcely finished speaking when the Mopanes came from the forest. Depending upon their great numbers they did not rush us, but advanced deliberately across the clearing, chanting a war song as they came. As soon as they were well within range we opened fire, and nearly every shot took effect because we were cool and cautious. The Indians were not deterred, however, and I remember thinking, even during the battle, that they were especially brave in their absolute disregard for death.
This last band of Mopanes was better armed than the first. They bore battle axes and war clubs in addition to their spears. Not a missile was sent in our direction in response to our fusillade, although we continued to pepper them so persistently that the front ranks fell like grain before a scythe, only to be trampled upon indifferently by those following. Their plan seemed to involve a great sacrifice of numbers that they might finally accomplish their purpose.
Pedro, who had proved a poor shot, devoted himself to recharging our repeating rifles and revolvers, so we had no need to relax our defense to reload. It was certainly a most dangerous predicament in which we now found ourselves, but I am glad to say none of us weakened or showed nervousness. Chaka, to my surprise, took no part in the fight at first, but as the enemy drew nearer he sprang up and began firing with the rest of us.
On came the savages, and we kept as busy as possible stopping all we could. Now they were a hundred yards off; now seventy; now fifty. We had dropped an amazing lot of them, yet still they advanced.
Then a diversion occurred of so startling a character that for a time we were utterly unable to comprehend it. The Mopanes abruptly stopped, turned half around until they faced the south, from whence they had come, and without paying any further heed to us began jabbering and gesticulating in wild excitement.
“Keep it up, boys!” cried Allerton. “They’re getting demoralized at last.”
That was evident; yet I knew we had had no hand in demoralizing them. The band was now separating, darting this way and that about the clearing as if in a panic. But the fugitives, after a wild scramble here and there, quickly massed again in the center of the clearing and faced outward, their backs forming the inner part of a great circle.
Next moment the mystery was explained. From behind every tree that bordered the open space stepped a stalwart warrior, copper skinned and naked save for a loin cloth. They were taller than the Mopanes, more dignified in demeanor, more deliberate in action. Each man was quickly followed by another, and still another, until fully a thousand had closed in and formed a circle around the terrified Mopanes—as well as around us.
As the first man stepped from the forest Chaka uttered a wild cry and threw down his weapons. Then he stood as if turned to stone, watching as one in a dream the tragedy that ensued.
“That settles our case,” exclaimed Archie, desperately. “We might have tipped over a few hundred of those fellows, but a few thousand is too many.”
We had stopped firing and Paul was watching Chaka’s face.
“I think we are saved,” said he in a low voice. “These men are the Itzaex, who have followed the Mopanes to seek revenge for the murder of their atkayma.”
“Oh!” said Archie; and more than one breath of relief was drawn at this explanation.
It was not hard to understand why the Itzaex nation had remained unconquered and supreme through all the centuries. In strong contrast to the chattering Mopanes they uttered no sound as they advanced, and every warrior seemed but a part of one great machine.
So far as I could determine by watching the confused scene there was little resistance on the part of the surprised and greatly outnumbered Mopanes. Some made a dash for the forest, only to be cut down; others stood their ground and fought doggedly until an Itzaex battle-axe or a spear thrust put an end to their further interest in the affair.
In scarcely more time than I have taken to write it the murderers of the old atkayma were virtually annihilated. Then the victors calmly formed ranks and faced toward us—half curiously, half expectantly. They seemed to realize they had interfered in our fight with the Mopanes, but as yet they did not know whether to regard us as foes or allies.
But now Chaka awoke to action. With a hasty word he pressed Paul’s hand and leaped the barrier, advancing alone and with majestic strides toward his people.
We were near enough to observe the scene closely; almost near enough to hear every word spoken.
The Itzaex seemed astonished at Chaka’s appearance. They looked upon him wonderingly, and I now noticed for the first time that Chaka alone wore a white loin cloth; those of all the others were of some color, green and yellow predominating.
When the boy had almost reached them he stopped short, lifted one arm with an imperious gesture and said:
“I am Chaka, returned to you after many days. My father is dead. Itzaex, salute your atkayma!”
With one accord they knelt and prostrated themselves, old and young alike. There was no word of question, no display of antagonism. The people knew and saluted their chief.
Chaka slowly advanced to where the leader of the Itzaex knelt in front of his followers. Beside him lay the gory head of the old atkayma, the skin of its face drawn into a horrid grin. The boy knelt to the ghastly thing and kissed its forehead. Now he plucked from the matted gray hair a single heron’s feather—the emblem of royalty—and placed it among his own dark locks. Then he stood erect.
During this scene not an Itzaex moved. Each head touched the ground. The warriors were silent as well as motionless.
“Rise, my people!” commanded Chaka, in clear, ringing tones. They obeyed, and now a legion of dark eyes was fixed full upon the youth confronting them. “The Itzaex are still brave and dauntless,” continued the young atkayma. “The Mopane cats are punished for their crime. The murder of the great and noble Tcheltzada, my father, who has ruled you long and wisely, has been quickly and terribly avenged. I thank you.”
Now the chieftain of the party, an enormous grizzled warrior, stepped forward and said:
“Tell us, then, O Atkayma, where you have been; why now you are here.”
“Then listen to my words,” was the reply. “It is nine years since I led a band of young men to the sea. The Mopanes fell upon us and cut my comrades down. Some, I hope, escaped. I found a boat and fled across the great water, the enemy following. A ship of the white people—the powerful Americans—saved me and took me on board, repelling the Mopanes. I was carried to far lands, with no way to return to my people. Years passed by. I found a good friend among the white men, a friend who has now helped me to come back to you. He is yonder, with seven others who have assisted me. On our journey to Itzlan we were surprised by Mopanes. You may see how many we have destroyed.”
The warriors glanced around. The ground was literally covered with bodies. They well knew they had not slain all these themselves.
“My white friends,” continued Chaka, “must become the friends of the Itzaex nation; my people must become their friends. To them you owe the safe return of your atkayma.”
This last statement was the first to be received with disfavor. There were sundry grunts of protest and gestures of dissent. The old chieftain bowed low and made reply.
“Never, O Atkayma Chaka, has the white man been the friend of the Itzaex,” said he.
“Time changes many things. These white people have been like brothers to me,” announced Chaka, in a firm voice. “I know them. In their hearts is no treachery; they seek no conquest; they are good and true. Tell me, Gatcha, have they not destroyed many of the enemies of the Itzaex? Have they not given you back your hereditary atkayma, just as the gods have permitted my father Tcheltzada to meet his doom? If you fail to greet my preservers as friends, the gods, from whom I am descended, and for whom I speak, will surely punish you.”
That seemed to settle the case with the Itzaex. Once more they prostrated themselves before Chaka in token of obedience, and the chieftain Gatcha said:
“It is well, O Atkayma. If your uncle, the mighty Datchapa, receives the white men, we have no objection to offer to them.”
The youth frowned and drew himself up haughtily.