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полная версияSam Steele\'s Adventures in Panama

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Sam Steele's Adventures in Panama

CHAPTER XIX
WE ATTEMPT A RESCUE

The entire ship’s company was aroused by this time, and it amused me to find that every man jack, down to the commonest sailor, was tremendously indignant and most properly incensed because Nalig-Nad had dared to steal his own daughter – the successor to his throne – from the white men with whom she had fled.

Ned Britton’s plan was to arm our entire company “to the teeth” and march in solid ranks through the forest until we came to the king’s village, which he figured lay about opposite the point where our ship had stranded. Once at the village we could surprise the place, capture Ilalah, and bear her in triumph back to the wreck.

There were several objections to Ned’s optimistic plan. In the first place we did not know the forest, and the Indians did. They could hide behind the trees and pick us off with their arrows before we could use our fire-arms; or they might ambush us, and annihilate our band. Moreover, we were not sure Ilalah had been taken directly to the king’s village. They might have hidden her somewhere else.

“It’s another case of automobile, Mr. Moit,” declared Uncle Naboth. “If we’re a-goin’ to get that girl you’ll have to use the convertible, as sure as fate.”

“There is no doubt of that,” returned the inventor, promptly. “I have determined to start as soon as it is daylight.”

“What is your idea, Duncan?” I asked.

“Simply to enter the country of the Techlas, show them a bold and fearless front, find out where the princess is, and then rescue her in some way. I’m afraid they will treat her badly, because she defied them and ran away with me.”

“But she is to be their next ruler, after Nalig-Nad is dead,” said I.

“Yes, if she outlives him. But the king has two other children, and he may prefer one of them to rule.”

“That’s a fact,” I answered. “I’ve seen them. And Nalig-Nad must have been furious at Ilalah for favoring the hated whites.”

“There is no time to lose,” continued Duncan, nervously. “We must start as soon as possible and make our plans on the way. Who will go with me?”

Everyone wanted to go, of course; but finally it was settled that Uncle Naboth and I, with Nux and Bryonia, should accompany Duncan Moit in the automobile. If we did not return within twenty-four hours then Ned Britton was to land his sailors and march quickly through the forest to our rescue. This arrangement was the best we could think of, and when I frankly told the men that this hazardous duty would not be forced upon them, since the adventure was wholly outside their province as seamen, they one and all declared they would “see us through” or die in the attempt.

Only Dick Lombard, whose arm had been broken, and an old sailor with a bruised knee were to be left behind, that they might care for the ship in our absence.

“No one can steal the cargo, anyhow; it’s too heavy,” I remarked; “and if the Indians manage to do us up entirely Mr. Harlan will still be able to get his steel beams. So we need not worry over the ship.”

It was a desperate enterprise, and we knew it; but so strong was our admiration for the Princess of the Techlas that we did not hesitate to attempt in her behalf all that brave men might be capable of.

At the first break of day we got the automobile over the side and safely launched it. There was not a moment’s unnecessary delay, and as Duncan was now familiar with the river channel we were soon paddling at our best speed up the river.

By the time the red rays of the rising sun gleamed over the water we had passed the two hillocks and reached the southern tributary that led into the land of the Techlas.

We saw no Indians in the forest this time. Either it was too early for them to be abroad or they had assembled inland for some purpose. The forest was deserted.

Our progress was, of course, much slower than on land. I think the automobile paddled about eight miles an hour in still water, but as we now had to stem a current we made less time than that. But distances are not great in Panama, where the isthmus has a breadth of only some fifty miles, so that we were not long in passing the northern forest and coming to the coastal plains.

We left the river at the same spot as before, where the bank was low and shelving; for in talking over our plans we had decided to make directly for Nalig-Nad’s own village. It was reasonable to suppose that Ilalah had been first taken there, it being the nearest point to the ship from whence they had stolen her. The king might intend to hide her, presently, even if he permitted his rebellious daughter to live; but we judged that he would not expect us to give chase so soon. That we would dare venture into his dominions a second time the astute monarch would hesitate to believe.

We relied much upon the promptness with which we had acted, and although we were forced to travel by a roundabout route we ought, with good luck, to reach the king’s village by the middle of the forenoon.

Once on the broad and level plains Moit allowed his machine to do its best. We knew there were no obstructions in the way, so we made a wonderful dash across the country.

No effort was made by the San Blas to oppose us or interfere with our progress. We observed no warriors at all, and the few farmers we passed scarcely paused in their labors long enough to stare at us.

When we came to Ogo’s village, however, we saw by means of the glass that the place was swarming with Indians, who were as busy and excited as bees in a hive. This puzzled us, and made us fear the princess might be in this place instead of the village farther on. But we decided to stick to our first programme, so we circled around the town to the north and continued on our way.

Much faster than we had covered the distance before we now fled over the plain, and soon the enclosure became visible and our journey was almost over.

A great jagged section of the wall had been blown up by the explosion, wrecking some of the huts at the same time; but as we drew nearer we discovered that Nalig-Nad had caused a big ditch to be dug, in the form of a half moon, reaching from one end of the broken wall to the other. This ditch was evidently made on our account, and as it circled outward into the plain it prevented most effectually our entering the enclosure with the automobile.

We smiled at so childish an attempt to bar us from the village, but it informed us plainly that the king had anticipated our return and feared us, which knowledge served to encourage us very much.

We halted the machine outside the ditch, a hundred yards or so from the wall, and then proceeded to take careful observation of the condition of affairs at the village.

Our arrival had created no apparent excitement. There were no crowds to be seen and the few natives, men or women, who stalked across the space that was visible within the wall, going from one building to another, merely turned their faces toward us for a moment and then continued on their way. A woman sat at one side of the gap milking a goat; another near her was hanging some newly washed tunics on the edge of the broken wall to dry in the sun; but neither of these gave us more than a glance or allowed us to interrupt their occupation.

This apathy was mystifying. Surely we had created enough excitement at the time we left the king’s village to ensure a degree of interest in our return. If the savages imagined their puny ditch any protection they were likely to find themselves much mistaken.

Presently we saw something that aroused us to action. Ilalah appeared, crossing the enclosure from one of the side huts to the king’s palace. Her hands were bound firmly behind her back and her eyes were covered with a thick scarf which effectually blindfolded her. She was led and pushed along by two sour visaged old women, who showed their princess scant courtesy.

Moit swore roundly under his breath and I myself was filled with indignation at the poor girl’s condition; at the same time we were gratified to know we had found her by coming promptly to the right place.

“Now,” said Duncan, grimly, “we know what to do.”

“What is it?” I enquired.

“They will bring her out again, sooner or later,” he answered, “and then we must make a dash, seize her, regain the automobile, and fly back to the ship.”

“Easy enough!” ejaculated Uncle Naboth, admiringly.

The women had finished milking and hanging out their clothes. Just now the courtyard seemed deserted.

“This is our chance,” cried Moit. “Follow me, all of you except Mr. Perkins. He must stay to guard the machine and to wave us a signal when Ilalah appears. We will creep up to the broken wall and hide behind it until the princess comes back. Then we will make a rush all together and capture her before the Indians know what we are about. Are you all armed?”

We were, and ready.

Duncan leaped from the car and we followed him. Then, bounding across the narrow ditch, we ran silently but quickly to a position behind the wall, where those inside could not see us. There we crouched, panting, to await Uncle Naboth’s signal.

CHAPTER XX
OUTWITTED

The silence of death seemed to reign in the little village. All life had for the moment ceased, and gradually this extraordinary fact impressed me ominously.

“Where are all the people?” I whispered to Moit.

“I can’t imagine,” he answered.

“Guess dey in de co’te-yard of de palace,” said Bry, who with Nux stood just beside us. “Princess bein’ judged; ev’body lookin’ on.”

That seemed plausible; and it was a condition especially favorable to our plans; so we waited with suppressed excitement, our eager eyes upon the automobile, until suddenly we saw Uncle Naboth spring to his feet and wave his red handkerchief.

 

At the signal we four rose as one man and dashed through the gap into the enclosure, each with a revolver held fast in either hand.

As I bounded over the loose rubbish something suddenly caught me and threw me violently to the ground, where I rolled over once or twice and then found myself flat upon my back with a gigantic Indian pressing his knee against my chest.

I heard a roar from Moit and answering shouts from our two blacks, and turning my head saw them struggling with a band of natives who surrounded them on every side.

Indeed, our conquest was effected much sooner than I can describe the event on paper, and within a few moments all four of us stood before our captors disarmed and securely bound.

I own I was greatly humiliated by the clever deception practiced upon us by Nalig-Nad. The wily king had foreseen our arrival and using Ilalah as a bait had ambushed us so neatly that we had no chance to fight or to resist our capture. The victory was his, and it was complete.

Stay; there was Uncle Naboth yet to be reckoned with. I could see him still standing in the car glaring with amazement at the scene enacted within the enclosure.

The Indians saw him, too, and with wild and triumphant yells a score of them rushed out and made for the car. But my uncle was warned and had calmly laid a number of revolvers upon the seat beside him.

With a weapon in either hand the old gentleman blazed away at the Techlas as soon as they approached, doing such deadly execution that the natives were thrown into confusion and held back, uncertain what to do.

Having emptied one brace of revolvers Mr. Perkins hurled them at the heads of his assailants and picked up another pair. I wondered that the San Blas did not shoot him down with arrows, or impale him on a spear, for the top was down and he was unprotected from such missiles; but doubtless they had been instructed to capture him alive and had not been prepared for such a vigorous resistance.

Presently an Indian who had made his way around to the opposite side put his hand on the rail and leaped lightly into the car; but my uncle turned in a flash and seized the fellow at the waist in his powerful arms. Lifting the astonished Techla high in the air Uncle Naboth flung him bodily into the furious crowd before him, tumbling a number of his foes to the ground with this living catapult.

But such magnificent strength and courage was without avail. Before uncle could seize his revolvers again a dozen warriors had leaped into the car beside him and grasped him so firmly that further struggles were useless. The little man collapsed immediately and was dragged out and brought to where we had been watching him in wonder and admiration.

“Good for you, Uncle!” I cried. “If we could have managed to put up such a fight it might have been a different story.”

He smiled at us cheerily.

“Hain’t had so much fun, my lads, since Polly had the measles,” he panted; “but it couldn’t last, o’ course, ’cause I’m all out o’ trainin’.”

And now that all our party had been captured, transforming powerful enemies into helpless victims, King Nalig-Nad appeared before us with a calm countenance and ordered us taken to one of the huts, there to remain in confinement to await his pleasure concerning our disposal.

“Who’s this feller?” asked Uncle Naboth, looking hard at the king.

“It is Nalig-Nad,” I replied, rather depressed by our hard luck.

“Why, hello, Naddie, old boy – glad to meet you!” said Mr. Perkins, advancing as far as his captors would let him and holding out one of his broad, fat hands.

The king regarded him silently. It was the first time he had had an opportunity to inspect this addition to our former party. But he paid no attention to the outstretched hand.

“Know your daughter well,” continued Uncle Naboth, unabashed at the marked coolness with which his friendly advances were met; “she’s a fine gal, Nalig; oughter be proud o’ her, old chap!”

With this he began to chuckle and poked the king jovially in his royal ribs, causing the stern visaged monarch to jump backward with a cry of mingled indignation and rage. This so pleased my uncle that his chuckle increased to a cough, which set him choking until he was purple in the face.

The king watched this exhibition with amazement; but when his prisoner recovered with startling abruptness and wiped the tears of merriment from his eyes, the barbarian gave a disdainful grunt and walked away to his palace. He was followed by his band of attendant chiefs, whom I recognized as his former counsellors.

I looked around for Ilalah, but she had disappeared the moment we rushed into the enclosure, having doubtless been dragged away by her attendants as soon as she had served the purpose of luring us into the trap.

We were now taken to one of the huts built against the wall and thrust through a doorway with scant ceremony. It was merely a one-roomed affair with thick walls and no furniture but a clay bench at the back. The only aperture was the doorway. Several stout warriors, well armed and alert, ranged themselves before this opening as a guard.

We were not bound, for having lost all our weapons, including even our pocket-knives, we were considered very helpless.

“I don’t like the looks of this thing,” I remarked, when we had seated ourselves quite soberly in a row on the mud bench.

“Bad box, sure ’nough, Mars’ Sam,” said Bryonia, with a sigh.

“I hope they won’t touch the machine,” observed Moit, nervously. “I don’t mind what they do to me if they let the automobile alone.”

“That’s rubbish,” said I in a petulant tone; “they couldn’t run it to save their necks. Don’t worry, old man.”

“I s’pose we won’t have much use for an automerbeel in the course of a jiffy or two,” added my uncle, cheerfully.

“Oh, I depend a good deal upon Ned and his men,” I replied. “He will be sure to come to our rescue early to-morrow morning.”

“Too late, den, Mars’ Sam,” muttered Nux. “Dat wicked king ain’t goin’ let us lib long, I ’spect.”

“Then why did he put us here?” I demanded. “If he intended to kill us quickly he’d have murdered us on the spot.”

“There was nothing to prevent his doing that, most certainly,” said Moit, eagerly adopting the suggestion.

This aspect of the affair was really encouraging. So elastic is hope in the breasts of doomed men that we poor creatures sat there for an hour or more and tried to comfort ourselves with the thought that a chance for escape might yet arise. It was pitiful, now that I look back upon it; but at the moment the outlook did not appear to us especially gloomy.

I do not believe that any regret for having followed the Indian girl and tried to rescue her entered into the mind of any one of the party. Ilalah had stood by us and it was our duty to stand by her, even had not Moit been so infatuated by her beauty that he could not be contented without her.

Being a boy and less stolid than my elders, I caught myself wondering if I should ever behold the handsome ship my father was building, and sighed at the thought that I might never stand upon its deck after all the ambitious plans we had laid for the future. There was a little comfort in the thought that all the diamonds were safe in the locker of the wreck and that Ned would look after them and carry my share as well as Uncle Naboth’s to my father. But we were likely to pay a good price for the treasure we had wrested from the San Blas.

Midday arrived and passed. Food was brought to our guard but none was given to us. We were not especially hungry, but this neglect was ominous. It meant that we had either not long to live or our foes intended to starve us. We tried to believe that the latter was the correct solution of the problem.

Soon after noon, however, all uncertainty vanished. Our guards entered, commanded by one of the chiefs, and said we were to be taken to judgment. They prepared us for the ordeal by tying our hands behind our backs with thongs, so securely that there was no way to slip the bonds. Then they fastened us together in a string by an original method.

A coil of dressed skin was brought and an Indian held one end while another made a slip-noose and threw it over Duncan’s head. A second slip-noose was placed around Bryonia’s neck, a third around that of Uncle Naboth, a fourth around Nux and the fifth around my own neck. There was still enough of the coil remaining for a second guard to hold – and there we were. If any one of us attempted to run, or even to struggle, he would only tighten his noose, and perhaps those of the others, and risk a choking.

It wasn’t a bad method of keeping us orderly and meek, and we were not at all pleased with the arrangement, I assure you.

When we had been thus secured the chief – who, by the way, was a “green chief” – ordered us sternly to march; and so, like a gang of chained convicts, we tramped from the gloomy hut and passed out into the courtyard.

CHAPTER XXI
THE SACRIFICE

The elaborate preparations made for our “judgment” were certainly flattering; but we were in no mood to appreciate the mocking attentions of the San Blas.

The open space of the enclosure in front of the palace was filled with a crowd of silent Indians, so many being present that we knew they must have gathered from all parts of the territory.

Our guards led us through the close ranks of these spectators to a clear place near the center, where King Nalig-Nad sat upon a bench with a score of his favorite green chiefs ranged just behind him. At the sides of this interesting group several women, all of whom had green in their tunics, squatted upon the ground. At the king’s feet were the same pretty boy and girl I had seen on my first presentation to the potentate.

But this was not all. In the open space at the right of the king stood Ilalah between two stout guards. The girl’s hands were bound behind her back as ours were, but she was no longer blindfolded. Her proud and beautiful face wore a smile as we were ranged opposite her, and she called aloud in English in a clear voice:

“Have fortitude, my White Chief. In death as in life Ilalah is your own.”

A murmur of reproach came from those of the San Blas who understood her speech. The king looked at his daughter with a dark frown mantling his expressive features.

“And I belong to Ilalah,” replied Duncan Moit, composedly, as he smiled back at his sweetheart.

Indeed, I was proud of the courage of all my comrades on this trying occasion. Bryonia and Nux were dignified and seemingly indifferent, Uncle Naboth smiling and interested in each phase of the dramatic scene, and the inventor as cool in appearance as if this gathering of the nation was intended to do him honor. I do not know how I myself bore the ordeal, but I remember that my heart beat so fast and loud that I was greatly annoyed for fear someone would discover its rebellious action and think me afraid. Perhaps I really was afraid; but I was greatly excited, too, for it occurred to me that I was facing the sunshine and breathing the soft southern air for almost the last time in my life. I was sorry for myself because I was so young and had so much to live for.

Ilalah, it seemed, was to be judged first because her rank was higher than that of the strangers.

The king himself accused her, and when he began to speak his voice was composed and his tones low and argumentative. But as he proceeded his speech grew passionate and fierce, though he tried to impress upon his people the idea that it was his duty that obliged him to condemn Ilalah to punishment. However that plea might impress the Techlas it did not deceive us in the least. It was father against daughter, but perhaps the king’s hatred of the whites had turned him against his first born, or else he preferred that the pretty girl nestling at his feet should succeed him.

“Lords and chiefs of the Techlas,” he said, speaking in his native language, “the Princess Ilalah has broken our laws and outraged the traditions that have been respected in our nation for centuries. We have always hated the white race, and with justice. We have forbidden them to enter our dominions and refused to show them mercy if they fell into our hands. But this girl, whose birth and station are so high that she is entitled to succeed me as ruler of the Techlas, has violated our most sacred sentiments. She has favored and protected a band of white invaders; she has dared to love their chief, who has lied to us and tricked us; she has even forgotten her maidenly dignity and run away with him, preferring him to her own people. It is the law that I, her father, cannot judge or condemn her, although it is my privilege to condemn all others. Therefore I place her fate in the hands of my noble chiefs. Tell me, what shall be the fate of the false Techla? What shall be Ilalah’s punishment?”

 

The chiefs seemed undecided and half frightened at the responsibility thus thrust upon them. They turned and consulted one another in whispers, casting uncertain looks at the princess, who smiled back at them without a trace of fear upon her sweet face.

Standing close beside Ilalah I now discovered our old friend Tcharn, the goldsmith and arrow-maker, whose eager face showed his emotion at the peril of his friend. His dark eyes roved anxiously from the girl to her judges, and it was plain to see that he was fearful of her condemnation.

I myself tried to read the decision of the chiefs from their faces, and decided that while Ilalah was doubtless a great favorite with them all, they could find no excuse for her conduct. Their conference lasted so long that the king grew impatient, and his animosity became more and more apparent as he glowered menacingly upon the girl and then glanced appealingly at her judges, who tried to avoid his eyes.

Finally, however, the conference came to an end.

A tall, lean chief whose gray hairs and the prominence of the green stripes in his tunic evidently entitled him to be the spokesman, stepped forward and bowed low before the king.

“Mighty Ruler of the Techlas,” he said, “we have weighed well the strange conduct of the Princess Ilalah and desire to ask her a question.”

“The speech of the accused may not be considered,” said the king, gruffly.

“It affects not her condemnation, but rather her punishment,” returned the other.

“Then proceed.”

“Princess,” continued the old man, speaking in a kindly tone as he addressed the young girl, “if in our mercy we spare your life will you promise to forsake your white chief and yield him and his followers to our vengeance?”

“No!” she answered, proudly.

Her questioner sighed and turned to his fellows, who nodded to him gravely.

“Then,” said he, again turning to the king, “we find that the conduct of the Princess Ilalah merits punishment, and the punishment is death!”

The king smiled triumphantly and cast a look around the assemblage. Not a man or woman returned his smile. They stood steadfast as rocks, and only the little arrow-maker gave way to his grief by bowing his head in his hands and sobbing most pitifully.

“We also find,” continued the grave chieftain, breaking the painful pause, “that the law forbids any Techla to lift a hand against one of the royal blood; and especially is that person immune who is next in succession to the throne.”

This statement caused a thrill that could not be repressed to pass through the crowd. The natives looked on one another curiously, but satisfaction lurked in their dark eyes.

I began to like these people. In themselves they were not especially disposed to evil, but their fiendish king had dictated their thoughts and actions for so long that they were virtually the slaves of his whims.

“Therefore,” said the chief, speaking in a firm voice, “who will execute our decree of death upon the royal princess?”

“I will!” cried Nalig-Nad, springing to his feet. “The king is bound by no law save his own will. The girl is condemned to death, and die she shall!”

With a lightning gesture he caught up his bow and notched an arrow.

I looked toward Ilalah. Her face was pallid and set but she did not flinch for an instant. One fleeting glance she gave into Duncan’s face and then turned her eyes steadily upon her fierce and enraged sire.

The king did not hesitate. He drew the bowstring to his chin, took rapid aim, and loosed the deadly shaft.

A cry burst from the assemblage, and even while it rang in my ears I saw Tcharn leap into the air before the princess, receive the arrow in his own breast, and then fall writhing in agony upon the ground.

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