Martin Rattler, R. M. Ballantyne [mystery books to read TXT] 📗

Chapter Nineteen. Worse and Worse—Everything seems to go Wrong together.

Although the Indians did not maltreat the unfortunate strangers who had thus fallen into their hands, they made them proceed by forced marches through the wilderness; and as neither Barney nor Martin had been of late much used to long walks, they felt the journey very severely. The old trader had been accustomed to everything wretched and unfortunate and uncomfortable from his childhood, so he plodded onward in silent indifference.

The country through which they passed became every day more and more rugged, until at length it assumed the character of a wild mountainous district. Sometimes they wound their way in a zig-zag manner up the mountain sides, by paths so narrow that they could scarcely find a foot-hold. At other times they descended into narrow valleys where they saw great numbers of wild animals of various kinds, some of which the Indians killed for food. After they reached the mountain district they loosed the hands of their prisoners, in order to enable them to climb more easily. Indeed in many places they had to scramble so carefully that it would have been impossible for any one to climb with his hands tied behind his back. But the Indians knew full well that they ran no risk of losing their prisoners; for if they had attempted to escape, dozens of their number were on the watch, before, behind, and on either side, ready to dart away in pursuit. Moreover, Barney had a feeling of horror at the bare idea of the poisoned arrows, that effectually prevented him from making the smallest attempt at escape. With a cutlass or a heavy stick he would have attacked the whole tribe single-handed, and have fought till his brains were knocked out; but when he thought of the small arrows that would pour upon him in hundreds if he made a dash for the woods, and the certain death that would follow the slightest scratch, he discarded all idea of rebellion.

One of the animals killed by the Indians at this time was a black jaguar,—a magnificent animal, and very fierce. He was discovered crouching in a thicket backed by a precipice, from which he could only escape by charging through the ranks of his enemies. He did it nobly. With a roar that rebounded from the face of the high cliff and echoed through the valley like a peal of thunder, he sprang out and rushed at the savages in front, who scattered like chaff right and left. But at the same instant fifty blow-pipes sent their poisoned shafts into his body, and, after a few convulsive bounds, the splendid monarch of the American forests fell dead on the ground. The black jaguar is a somewhat rare animal, and is very seldom seen. This one was therefore hailed as a great prize, and the skin and claws were carefully preserved.

On the afternoon of the same day the party came to a broad stream, over which they, or some other of the numerous tribes in the country, had constructed a very simple and curious bridge. It was a single rope attached to an immense mass of rock on one side and to the stem of a large tree on the other. On this tight-rope was fastened a simple loop of cord, so constructed that it could encircle the waist of a man and at the same time traverse from one end of the tight-rope to the other. Barney put on a comical frown when he came to this and saw the leader of the party rest his weight in the loop, and, clinging with hands and legs to the long rope, work himself slowly across.

“Arrah! it’s well for us, Martin, that we’re used to goin’ aloft,” said he, “or that same bridge would try our narves a little.”

“So it would, Barney. I’ve seldom seen a more uncomfortable-looking contrivance. If we lost our hold we should first be dashed to pieces on the rocks, and then be drowned in the river.”

Difficult though the passage seemed, however, it was soon accomplished by the active savages in safety. The only one of the party likely to be left behind was Grampus; whom his master, after much entreaty in dumb-show, was permitted to carry over by tying him firmly to his shoulders. Marmoset crossed over walking, like a tight-rope dancer, being quite au fait at such work. Soon after they came to another curious bridge over a ravine. It had been constructed by simply felling two tall trees on the edge of it in such a manner that they fell across. They were bound together with the supple vines that grew there in profusion. Nature had soon covered the whole over with climbing-plants and luxuriant verdure; and the bridge had become a broad and solid structure, over which the whole party marched with perfect ease. Several such bridges were crossed, and also a few of the rope kind, during the journey.

After many weeks’ constant travelling, the Indians came to a beautiful valley one evening just about sunset—and began to make the usual preparations for encamping. The spot they selected was a singular one. It was the foot of a rocky gorge, up which might be seen trees and bushes mingled with jagged rocks and dark caverns, with a lofty sierra or mountain range in the background. In front was the beautiful valley which they had just crossed. On a huge rock there grew a tree of considerable size, the roots of which projected beyond the rock several yards, and then, bending downwards, struck into the ground. Creeping-plants had twined thickly among the roots, and thus formed a sort of lattice-work which enclosed a large space of ground. In this natural arbour the chiefs of the Indians took up their quarters and kindled their fire in the centre of it, while the main body of the party pitched their camp outside. The three prisoners were allotted a corner in the arbour; and, after having supped, they spread their ponchos on a pile of ferns, and found themselves very snug indeed.

“Martin,” said Barney, gravely, as he smoked his pipe and patted the head of his dog, “d’ye know, I’m beginning to feel tired o’ the company o’ thim naked rascals, and I’ve been revolvin’ in my mind what we should do to escape. Moreover, I’ve comed to a conclusion.”

“And what’s that?” inquired Martin.

“That it’s unposs’ble to escape at all, and I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s not a satisfactory conclusion Barney. I, too, have been cogitating a good deal about these Indians, and it is my opinion that they have been on a war expedition, for I’ve noticed that several of them have been wounded; and, besides, I cannot fancy what else could take them so far from home.”

“True, Martin, true. I wonder what they intind to do with us. They don’t mean to kill us, anyhow; for if they did they would niver take the trouble to bring us here. Ochone! me heart’s beginnin’ to go down altogether; for we are miles and miles away from anywhere now, and I don’t know the direction o’ no place whatsumdiver.”

“Never mind, Barney, cheer up,” said Martin with a smile; “if they don’t kill us that’s all we need care about. I’m sure we shall manage to escape somehow or other in the long-run.”

While they thus conversed the old trader spread his poncho over himself and was soon sound asleep; while the Indians, after finishing supper, held an animated conversation. At times they seemed to be disputing, and spoke angrily and with violent gesticulations, glancing now and then at the corner where their prisoners lay.

“It’s my belafe,” whispered Barney, “that they’re spakin’ about us. I’m afeard they don’t mean us any good. Och but if I wance had my pistol and the ould cutlass. Well, well, it’s of no manner o’ use frettin’. Good night Martin, good night!”

The Irishman knocked the ashes out of his pipe, turned his face to the wall, and, heaving a deep sigh, speedily forgot his cares in sleep. The Indians also lay down, the camp-fires died slowly out; and the deep breathing of the savages alone betokened the presence of man in that lone wilderness.

Barney’s forebodings proved to be only too well founded; for next morning, instead of pursuing their way together, as usual, the savages divided their forces into two separate bands, placing the Irishman and the old trader in the midst of one, and Martin Rattler with the other.

“Surely they’re niver goin’ to part us, Martin,” said Barney with a careworn expression on his honest countenance that indicated the anxious suspicions in his heart.

“I fear it much,” replied Martin with a startled look, as he watched the proceedings of the Indians. “We must fight now, Barney, if we should die for it. We must not be separated.”

Martin spoke with intense fervour and gazed anxiously in the face of his friend. A dark frown had gathered there. The sudden prospect of being forcibly torn from his young companion, whom he regarded with almost a mother’s tenderness, stirred his enthusiastic and fiery temperament to its centre, and he gazed wildly about, as if for some weapon. But the savages anticipated his intention; ere he could grasp any offensive weapon two of their number leaped upon him, and at the same moment Martin’s arms were pinioned in a powerful grasp.

“Och, ye murderin’ blackguards!” cried Barney, hitting out right and left, and knocking down a savage at each blow. “Now or niver! come on, ye kangaroos!”

A general rush was made upon the Irishman, who was fairly overturned by the mass of men. Martin struggled fiercely to free himself, and would have succeeded had not two powerful Indians hastened to the help of the one who had first seized him. Despite his frantic efforts, he was dragged forcibly up the mountain gorge, the echoes of which rang with his cries as he shouted despairingly the name of his friend. Barney fought like a tiger; but he could make no impression on such numbers. Although at least a dozen Indians lay around him bleeding and stunned by the savage blows of his fists,—a species of warfare which was