Chapter 25
Part 25
11 min read · 2,269 words
It was a strange clicking noise in the distance not unlike castanets.
"There they go!" said my companion, slipping cartridges into the second
double barrelled "Express." "Load them all up, young fellah my lad,
for we're not going to be taken alive, and don't you think it! That's
the row they make when they are excited. By George! they'll have
something to excite them if they put us up. The 'Last Stand of the
Grays' won't be in it. 'With their rifles grasped in their stiffened
hands, mid a ring of the dead and dyin',' as some fathead sings. Can
you hear them now?"
"Very far away."
"That little lot will do no good, but I expect their search parties are
all over the wood. Well, I was telling you my tale of woe. They got
us soon to this town of theirs--about a thousand huts of branches and
leaves in a great grove of trees near the edge of the cliff. It's
three or four miles from here. The filthy beasts fingered me all over,
and I feel as if I should never be clean again. They tied us up--the
fellow who handled me could tie like a bosun--and there we lay with our
toes up, beneath a tree, while a great brute stood guard over us with a
club in his hand. When I say 'we' I mean Summerlee and myself. Old
Challenger was up a tree, eatin' pines and havin' the time of his life.
I'm bound to say that he managed to get some fruit to us, and with his
own hands he loosened our bonds. If you'd seen him sitting up in that
tree hob-nobbin' with his twin brother--and singin' in that rollin'
bass of his, 'Ring out, wild bells,' cause music of any kind seemed to
put 'em in a good humor, you'd have smiled; but we weren't in much mood
for laughin', as you can guess. They were inclined, within limits, to
let him do what he liked, but they drew the line pretty sharply at us.
It was a mighty consolation to us all to know that you were runnin'
loose and had the archives in your keepin'.
"Well, now, young fellah, I'll tell you what will surprise you. You
say you saw signs of men, and fires, traps, and the like. Well, we
have seen the natives themselves. Poor devils they were, down-faced
little chaps, and had enough to make them so. It seems that the humans
hold one side of this plateau--over yonder, where you saw the
caves--and the ape-men hold this side, and there is bloody war between
them all the time. That's the situation, so far as I could follow it.
Well, yesterday the ape-men got hold of a dozen of the humans and
brought them in as prisoners. You never heard such a jabberin' and
shriekin' in your life. The men were little red fellows, and had been
bitten and clawed so that they could hardly walk. The ape-men put two
of them to death there and then--fairly pulled the arm off one of
them--it was perfectly beastly. Plucky little chaps they are, and
hardly gave a squeak. But it turned us absolutely sick. Summerlee
fainted, and even Challenger had as much as he could stand. I think
they have cleared, don't you?"
We listened intently, but nothing save the calling of the birds broke
the deep peace of the forest. Lord Roxton went on with his story.
"I think you have had the escape of your life, young fellah my lad. It
was catchin' those Indians that put you clean out of their heads, else
they would have been back to the camp for you as sure as fate and
gathered you in. Of course, as you said, they have been watchin' us
from the beginnin' out of that tree, and they knew perfectly well that
we were one short. However, they could think only of this new haul; so
it was I, and not a bunch of apes, that dropped in on you in the
morning. Well, we had a horrid business afterwards. My God! what a
nightmare the whole thing is! You remember the great bristle of sharp
canes down below where we found the skeleton of the American? Well,
that is just under ape-town, and that's the jumpin'-off place of their
prisoners. I expect there's heaps of skeletons there, if we looked for
'em. They have a sort of clear parade-ground on the top, and they make
a proper ceremony about it. One by one the poor devils have to jump,
and the game is to see whether they are merely dashed to pieces or
whether they get skewered on the canes. They took us out to see it,
and the whole tribe lined up on the edge. Four of the Indians jumped,
and the canes went through 'em like knittin' needles through a pat of
butter. No wonder we found that poor Yankee's skeleton with the canes
growin' between his ribs. It was horrible--but it was doocedly
interestin' too. We were all fascinated to see them take the dive,
even when we thought it would be our turn next on the spring-board.
"Well, it wasn't. They kept six of the Indians up for to-day--that's
how I understood it--but I fancy we were to be the star performers in
the show. Challenger might get off, but Summerlee and I were in the
bill. Their language is more than half signs, and it was not hard to
follow them. So I thought it was time we made a break for it. I had
been plottin' it out a bit, and had one or two things clear in my mind.
It was all on me, for Summerlee was useless and Challenger not much
better. The only time they got together they got slangin' because they
couldn't agree upon the scientific classification of these red-headed
devils that had got hold of us. One said it was the dryopithecus of
Java, the other said it was pithecanthropus. Madness, I call
it--Loonies, both. But, as I say, I had thought out one or two points
that were helpful. One was that these brutes could not run as fast as
a man in the open. They have short, bandy legs, you see, and heavy
bodies. Even Challenger could give a few yards in a hundred to the
best of them, and you or I would be a perfect Shrubb. Another point
was that they knew nothin' about guns. I don't believe they ever
understood how the fellow I shot came by his hurt. If we could get at
our guns there was no sayin' what we could do.
"So I broke away early this mornin', gave my guard a kick in the tummy
that laid him out, and sprinted for the camp. There I got you and the
guns, and here we are."
"But the professors!" I cried, in consternation.
"Well, we must just go back and fetch 'em. I couldn't bring 'em with
me. Challenger was up the tree, and Summerlee was not fit for the
effort. The only chance was to get the guns and try a rescue. Of
course they may scupper them at once in revenge. I don't think they
would touch Challenger, but I wouldn't answer for Summerlee. But they
would have had him in any case. Of that I am certain. So I haven't
made matters any worse by boltin'. But we are honor bound to go back
and have them out or see it through with them. So you can make up your
soul, young fellah my lad, for it will be one way or the other before
evenin'."
I have tried to imitate here Lord Roxton's jerky talk, his short,
strong sentences, the half-humorous, half-reckless tone that ran
through it all. But he was a born leader. As danger thickened his
jaunty manner would increase, his speech become more racy, his cold
eyes glitter into ardent life, and his Don Quixote moustache bristle
with joyous excitement. His love of danger, his intense appreciation
of the drama of an adventure--all the more intense for being held
tightly in--his consistent view that every peril in life is a form of
sport, a fierce game betwixt you and Fate, with Death as a forfeit,
made him a wonderful companion at such hours. If it were not for our
fears as to the fate of our companions, it would have been a positive
joy to throw myself with such a man into such an affair. We were
rising from our brushwood hiding-place when suddenly I felt his grip
upon my arm.
"By George!" he whispered, "here they come!"
From where we lay we could look down a brown aisle, arched with green,
formed by the trunks and branches. Along this a party of the ape-men
were passing. They went in single file, with bent legs and rounded
backs, their hands occasionally touching the ground, their heads
turning to left and right as they trotted along. Their crouching gait
took away from their height, but I should put them at five feet or so,
with long arms and enormous chests. Many of them carried sticks, and
at the distance they looked like a line of very hairy and deformed
human beings. For a moment I caught this clear glimpse of them. Then
they were lost among the bushes.
"Not this time," said Lord John, who had caught up his rifle. "Our
best chance is to lie quiet until they have given up the search. Then
we shall see whether we can't get back to their town and hit 'em where
it hurts most. Give 'em an hour and we'll march."
We filled in the time by opening one of our food tins and making sure
of our breakfast. Lord Roxton had had nothing but some fruit since the
morning before and ate like a starving man. Then, at last, our pockets
bulging with cartridges and a rifle in each hand, we started off upon
our mission of rescue. Before leaving it we carefully marked our
little hiding-place among the brush-wood and its bearing to Fort
Challenger, that we might find it again if we needed it. We slunk
through the bushes in silence until we came to the very edge of the
cliff, close to the old camp. There we halted, and Lord John gave me
some idea of his plans.
"So long as we are among the thick trees these swine are our masters,"
said he. "They can see us and we cannot see them. But in the open it
is different. There we can move faster than they. So we must stick to
the open all we can. The edge of the plateau has fewer large trees
than further inland. So that's our line of advance. Go slowly, keep
your eyes open and your rifle ready. Above all, never let them get you
prisoner while there is a cartridge left--that's my last word to you,
young fellah."
When we reached the edge of the cliff I looked over and saw our good
old black Zambo sitting smoking on a rock below us. I would have given
a great deal to have hailed him and told him how we were placed, but it
was too dangerous, lest we should be heard. The woods seemed to be
full of the ape-men; again and again we heard their curious clicking
chatter. At such times we plunged into the nearest clump of bushes and
lay still until the sound had passed away. Our advance, therefore, was
very slow, and two hours at least must have passed before I saw by Lord
John's cautious movements that we must be close to our destination. He
motioned to me to lie still, and he crawled forward himself. In a
minute he was back again, his face quivering with eagerness.
"Come!" said he. "Come quick! I hope to the Lord we are not too late
already!"
I found myself shaking with nervous excitement as I scrambled forward
and lay down beside him, looking out through the bushes at a clearing
which stretched before us.
It was a sight which I shall never forget until my dying day--so weird,
so impossible, that I do not know how I am to make you realize it, or
how in a few years I shall bring myself to believe in it if I live to
sit once more on a lounge in the Savage Club and look out on the drab
solidity of the Embankment. I know that it will seem then to be some
wild nightmare, some delirium of fever. Yet I will set it down now,
while it is still fresh in my memory, and one at least, the man who lay
in the damp grasses by my side, will know if I have lied.
A wide, open space lay before us--some hundreds of yards across--all
green turf and low bracken growing to the very edge of the cliff.
Round this clearing there was a semi-circle of trees with curious huts
built of foliage piled one above the other among the branches. A
rookery, with every nest a little house, would best convey the idea.
The openings of these huts and the branches of the trees were thronged
with a dense mob of ape-people, whom from their size I took to be the
females and infants of the tribe. They formed the background of the
picture, and were all looking out with eager interest at the same scene
which fascinated and bewildered us.
Arthur Conan Doyle — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #139)
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