Читать книгу Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land - Henry Britton - Страница 8
CHAPTER IV.
A RACE FOR LIFE.
ОглавлениеDuring the night all three of us had been securely bound with sinnet, and vigilantly guarded to prevent any attempt at escape. Preparations for the cannibal feast were also industriously prosecuted in our presence. A hideous blear-eyed savage, sitting cross-legged on the grass, superintended the construction of the oven and the placing of the fires to thoroughly heat the layers of hot stones. He occasionally directed our attention to the proceedings with a self-satisfied leer, remarking that we should soon have the salt-water taken out of our eyes. He also felt my limbs, which were well fleshed, and pronounced them to be good.
The word was secretly given to club us. The captain and the mate fell prostrate under two thwacking blows delivered from behind. Instinctively feeling that the same fate was overtaking me, I made a vigorous bound forward, burst asunder the fastenings of my wrists and ancles, and saw the club which was intended to alight on my head sink in the turf at my side.
I was fleet of foot, and very lightly clad, having nothing on but boots, white duck trousers, and a shirt. I sprang like a deer into the jungle and ran for the hills like the wind. A number of the natives darted after me, but I soon saw that the only one who was likely to overtake me was the objectionable individual who had charge of the cooking preparations. He was a well-formed man of about 25, but had some loathsome sores on his body, which did not, however, affect his health. He had the advantage of knowing the country, and of carrying nothing in the way of clothes but a slight loin-cloth of tapa, worn in the form of a T bandage, while his well-oiled body enabled him to bear exposure to the sun, and helped him to glide through opposing brambles.
In threading the luxuriant tropical forest with the matted network of the tangled undergrowths which impeded me at every turn, my pursuer rapidly gained upon me, but whenever it was a question of open ground, as sometimes happened for a time, as I began to ascend one of the numerous ravines which radiate from the highest point of the island to the sea, I saw that I fully held my own. My enemy, nevertheless, showed no sign of flagging. It was a race for life, and I was not likely to give in while there was a breath left in my body.
In the woods I could hear the crackling of breaking branches in my rear, and in the open there was always the dusky form pressing eagerly on with a relentless stride, his chest well expanded, the head well up, and the clenched hands in measured motion at his sides, one of them grasping by the middle a short club curiously knotted at the end—a weapon capable of being thrown a considerable distance, or of being used effectively in a hand-to-hand encounter.
At length, after the best part of an hour’s running, with occasional rests, I got into a sort of labyrinthine canebrake which lined the banks of a small stream trending to the coast, hoping that I might here effectually baffle my pursuer. I knew that he dare not follow me far from the coast-line for fear of the inland tribes—the landsmen, who were never on friendly terms with the mariners who lived on the shore. This was also a difficulty with me. I had a dread of momentarily rushing into the arms of some anthropophagistical mountaineer. Occasionally in my flight I had caught sight of a small native village perched on a castled crag, or half hidden in a distant ravine, and I had carefully avoided approaching those places.
But now an altogether unexpected source of anxiety beset me. I found that I was fairly entrapped in this dense patch of vethos. The reeds reached such a height that they shut out all surrounding objects. In their gloomy shade I could distinguish nothing clearly. As I passed through these prison bars they closed upon me from behind with a snap like so many spring doors, preventing the air from circulating and making the atmosphere close and sultry beyond expression; while the sickly graveyard smell emitted by the fermenting vegetable matter was almost overpowering. After some 20 minutes of plunging about over a flooring honeycombed with pitfalls concealed by undergrowths—frequently sprawling full length over thong-like creepers and tendrils which it was impossible to break—I reached a nerveless state of exhaustion, in which I saw that I put forth my arm without making the smallest impression upon the stubborn wires of my thickset cage. On the one hand I feared that I should never find my way out of this maze, and on the other that if my strength returned I should as likely as not work down to the coast and the dangerous locality I had fled from, while the noise of every breaking twig caused me to look round for my pursuer. Were he to come upon me now I should be helpless. I already pictured myself prostrate with the glowering eyes of the horrid savage upon me.
Having rested awhile I made a supreme effort, and clambered up the gnarled trunk of a withered old tree, about 12ft. high. From this elevation I could see no end to the labyrinth. As I descended, the night mist began to steam and wreath in loathy forms. As I viewed the stems and withes, with their endless webs of roots, choking out air and sky, I became a prey to the depressing influence of the horrid place. The premonitory symptoms of malarious fever were shuddering through my frame. I again lay down, reflecting that it was impossible to make a way in a straight line, even though I knew the proper direction, or had vigour enough remaining to advance at all. Turning my head wearily round, to my delight I caught a glimpse of blue sky through a little break in the vethos. Following this direction a few steps, I discovered that the reeds suddenly thinned down at this point, and in a few minutes I was out on lightly-timbered land, breathing the pure air of heaven once more.
The sun set all aglow on the sea-girt horizon, bathing the hill-tops in a ruddy light, which lasted but a few seconds. Darkness followed almost instantly, and heavy dews began to fall, compelling me to seek some sort of shelter. I crept back into the edge of the cover I had just left, and there slept the sleep of exhaustion.
I awoke shortly before daybreak, shivering with the cold. Glancing to the top of the hill in front of me I was startled by seeing the trees and shrubs shining in a bright light, and looking as though they had been worked by a skilful artificer in frosted silver, while the birds flitted about in a cloud of white sparks. I thought at first that there must be a conflagration in the valley beyond; but shortly the strange illumination faded, and I knew that the phenomenon was due to the rising sun. Not daring to delay longer, I resumed my journey up hill, hoping to find a secure hiding-place on some prominence commanding the ocean, so that I might watch for the arrival of an English sail.
Emerging from the patch of reeds upon a stretch of comparatively level ground, I felt greatly fatigued, for my night’s rest was taken in a mephitic atmosphere of rank decaying vegetable matter. I noticed a thousand yards ahead a craggy solitude on the hill-side, shaded by thickly clustering ivi and wi trees, and I determined to rest there for a time.
At that moment my enemy shot out from the reeds in my rear. He must have passed the night quite close to me. Animated by his nearness to the quarry, he doubled his speed. I could no longer outrun him. Soon his footfalls on the turf were distinct in my ears. I counted them as I ran, and found he made three paces to my two. Then I heard his labored breathing. I felt his hot breath on my shoulder—the scented oil from his beastly person was in my nostrils. The blood burst from my ears and mouth and bubbled up in my boots (which had been torn and mangled out of all shape) with the exertions I made to reach the cover in view, and I was sure that I should be in the grasp of the foe in a few seconds. Suddenly stooping, on the instinctive impulse of a moment, I seized a pointed stick used for digging yams, which had been left in my path by some agricultural laborer. I dropped on one knee, facing about instantly, and, holding the yam stick as an infantry soldier prepares to receive cavalry with his bayonet, the Fijian ran upon my weapon and impaled himself. With one convulsive gasp, when the shaft entered his breast, he fell dead; and I rolled over by his side, panting, bleeding, and thoroughly exhausted.