Green Mansions: A Romance of the Tropical Forest

  CHAPTER III

  I was not disappointed on my next visit to the forest, nor on severalsucceeding visits; and this seemed to show that if I was right inbelieving that these strange, melodious utterances proceeded from oneindividual, then the bird or being, although still refusing to showitself, was always on the watch for my appearance and followed mewherever I went. This thought only served to increase my curiosity; Iwas constantly pondering over the subject, and at last concluded that itwould be best to induce one of the Indians to go with me to the wood onthe chance of his being able to explain the mystery.

  One of the treasures I had managed to preserve in my sojourn with thesechildren of nature, who were always anxious to become possessors of mybelongings, was a small prettily fashioned metal match-box, openingwith a spring. Remembering that Kua-ko, among others, had looked at thistrifle with covetous eyes--the covetous way in which they all looked atit had given it a fictitious value in my own--I tried to bribe him withthe offer of it to accompany me to my favourite haunt. The brave younghunter refused again and again; but on each occasion he offered toperform some other service or to give me something in exchange for thebox. At last I told him that I would give it to the first person whoshould accompany me, and fearing that someone would be found valiantenough to win the prize, he at length plucked up a spirit, and on thenext day, seeing me going out for a walk, he all at once offered to gowith me. He cunningly tried to get the box before starting--his cunning,poor youth, was not very deep! I told him that the forest we were aboutto visit abounded with plants and birds unlike any I had seen elsewhere,that I wished to learn their names and everything about them, andthat when I had got the required information the box would be his--notsooner. Finally we started, he, as usual, armed with his zabatana, withwhich, I imagined, he would procure more game than usually fell to hislittle poisoned arrows. When we reached the wood I could see that he wasill at ease: nothing would persuade him to go into the deeper parts;and even where it was very open and light he was constantly gazinginto bushes and shadowy places, as if expecting to see some frightfulcreature lying in wait for him. This behaviour might have had adisquieting effect on me had I not been thoroughly convinced that hisfears were purely superstitious and that there could be no dangerousanimal in a spot I was accustomed to walk in every day. My plan wasto ramble about with an unconcerned air, occasionally pointing out anuncommon tree or shrub or vine, or calling his attention to a distantbird-cry and asking the bird's name, in the hope that the mysteriousvoice would make itself heard and that he would be able to give me someexplanation of it. But for upwards of two hours we moved about, hearingnothing except the usual bird voices, and during all that time he neverstirred a yard from my side nor made an attempt to capture anything. Atlength we sat down under a tree, in an open spot close to the border ofthe wood. He sat down very reluctantly, and seemed more troubled inhis mind than ever, keeping his eyes continually roving about, while helistened intently to every sound. The sounds were not few, owing to theabundance of animal and especially of bird life in this favoured spot.I began to question my companion as to some of the cries we heard. Therewere notes and cries familiar to me as the crowing of the cock--parrotscreams and yelping of toucans, the distant wailing calls of maam andduraquara; and shrill laughter-like notes of the large tree-climber asit passed from tree to tree; the quick whistle of cotingas; and strangethrobbing and thrilling sounds, as of pygmies beating on metallic drums,of the skulking pitta-thrushes; and with these mingled other notesless well known. One came from the treetops, where it was perpetuallywandering amid the foliage a low note, repeated at intervals of a fewseconds, so thin and mournful and full of mystery that I half expectedto hear that it proceeded from the restless ghost of some dead bird.But no; he only said it was uttered by a "little bird"--too littlepresumably to have a name. From the foliage of a neighbouring tree camea few tinkling chirps, as of a small mandolin, two or three strings ofwhich had been carelessly struck by the player. He said that it camefrom a small green frog that lived in trees; and in this way my rudeIndian--vexed perhaps at being asked such trivial questions--brushedaway the pretty fantasies my mind had woven in the woodland solitude.For I often listened to this tinkling music, and it had suggested theidea that the place was frequented by a tribe of fairy-like troubadourmonkeys, and that if I could only be quick-sighted enough I might oneday be able to detect the minstrel sitting, in a green tunic perhaps,cross-legged on some high, swaying bough, carelessly touching hismandolin, suspended from his neck by a yellow ribbon.

  By and by a bird came with low, swift flight, its great tail spread openfan-wise, and perched itself on an exposed bough not thirty yards fromus. It was all of a chestnut-red colour, long-bodied, in size like a bigpigeon. Its actions showed that its curiosity had been greatly excited,for it jerked from side to side, eyeing us first with one eye, then theother, while its long tail rose and fell in a measured way.

  "Look, Kua-ko," I said in a whisper, "there is a bird for you to kill."

  But he only shook his head, still watchful.

  "Give me the blow-pipe, then," I said, with a laugh, putting out my handto take it. But he refused to let me take it, knowing that it would onlybe an arrow wasted if I attempted to shoot anything.

  As I persisted in telling him to kill the bird, he at last bent his lipsnear me and said in a half-whisper, as if fearful of being overheard: "Ican kill nothing here. If I shot at the bird, the daughter of the Didiwould catch the dart in her hand and throw it back and hit me here,"touching his breast just over his heart.

  I laughed again, saying to myself, with some amusement, that Kua-ko wasnot such a bad companion after all--that he was not without imagination.But in spite of my laughter his words roused my interest and suggestedthe idea that the voice I was curious about had been heard by theIndians and was as great a mystery to them as to me; since, not beinglike that of any creature known to them, it would be attributed by theirsuperstitious minds to one of the numerous demons or semi-human monstersinhabiting every forest, stream, and mountain; and fear of it woulddrive them from the wood. In this case, judging from my companion'swords, they had varied the form of the superstition somewhat, inventinga daughter of a water-spirit to be afraid of. My thought was that iftheir keen, practiced eyes had never been able to see this flittingwoodland creature with a musical soul, it was not likely that I wouldsucceed in my quest.

  I began to question him, but he now appeared less inclined to talk andmore frightened than ever, and each time I attempted to speak he imposedsilence, with a quick gesture of alarm, while he continued to stareabout him with dilated eyes. All at once he sprang to his feet asif overcome with terror and started running at full speed. His fearinfected me, and, springing up, I followed as fast as I could, but hewas far ahead of me, running for dear life; and before I had gone fortyyards my feet were caught in a creeper trailing along the surface, and Imeasured my length on the ground. The sudden, violent shock almost tookaway my senses for a moment, but when I jumped up and stared round tosee no unspeakable monster--Curupita or other--rushing on to slay anddevour me there and then, I began to feel ashamed of my cowardice; andin the end I turned and walked back to the spot I had just quitted andsat down once more. I even tried to hum a tune, just to prove to myselfthat I had completely recovered from the panic caught from the miserableIndian; but it is never possible in such cases to get back one'sserenity immediately, and a vague suspicion continued to trouble me fora time. After sitting there for half an hour or so, listening to distantbird-sounds, I began to recover my old confidence, and even to feelinclined to penetrate further into the wood. All at once, making mealmost jump, so sudden it was, so much nearer and louder than I hadever heard it before, the mysterious melody began. Unmistakably it wasuttered by the same being heard on former occasions; but today it wasdifferent in character. The utterance was far more rapid, with fewersilent intervals, and it had none of the usual tenderness in it, norever once sunk to that low, whisper-like talking which had seemed to meas if t
he spirit of the wind had breathed its low sighs in syllablesand speech. Now it was not only loud, rapid, and continuous, but, whilestill musical, there was an incisiveness in it, a sharp ring as ofresentment, which made it strike painfully on the sense.

  The impression of an intelligent unhuman being addressing me in angertook so firm a hold on my mind that the old fear returned, and, rising,I began to walk rapidly away, intending to escape from the wood. Thevoice continued violently rating me, as it seemed to my mind, movingwith me, which caused me to accelerate my steps; and very soon I wouldhave broken into a run, when its character began to change again. Therewere pauses now, intervals of silence, long or short, and after each onethe voice came to my ear with a more subdued and dulcet sound--more ofthat melting, flute-like quality it had possessed at other times; andthis softness of tone, coupled with the talking-like form of utterance,gave me the idea of a being no longer incensed, addressing me now in apeaceable spirit, reasoning away my unworthy tremors, and imploring meto remain with it in the wood. Strange as this voice without a body was,and always productive of a slightly uncomfortable feeling on account ofits mystery, it seemed impossible to doubt that it came to me now ina spirit of pure friendliness; and when I had recovered my composure Ifound a new delight in listening to it--all the greater because of thefear so lately experienced, and of its seeming intelligence. For thethird time I reseated myself on the same spot, and at intervals thevoice talked to me there for some time and, to my fancy, expressedsatisfaction and pleasure at my presence. But later, without losing itsfriendly tone, it changed again. It seemed to move away and to be thrownback from a considerable distance; and, at long intervals, it wouldapproach me again with a new sound, which I began to interpret as ofcommand, or entreaty. Was it, I asked myself, inviting me to follow? Andif I obeyed, to what delightful discoveries or frightful dangers mightit lead? My curiosity together with the belief that the being--I calledit being, not bird, now--was friendly to me, overcame all timidity, andI rose and walked at random towards the interior of the wood. Very soonI had no doubt left that the being had desired me to follow; for therewas now a new note of gladness in its voice, and it continued near meas I walked, at intervals approaching me so closely as to set me staringinto the surrounding shadowy places like poor scared Kua-ko.

  On this occasion, too, I began to have a new fancy, for fancy orillusion I was determined to regard it, that some swift-footed being wastreading the ground near me; that I occasionally caught the faint rustleof a light footstep, and detected a motion in leaves and fronds andthread-like stems of creepers hanging near the surface, as if somepassing body had touched and made them tremble; and once or twice thatI even had a glimpse of a grey, misty object moving at no great distancein the deeper shadows.

  Led by this wandering tricksy being, I came to a spot where the treeswere very large and the damp dark ground almost free from undergrowth;and here the voice ceased to be heard. After patiently waiting andlistening for some time, I began to look about me with a slight feelingof apprehension. It was still about two hours before sunset; onlyin this place the shade of the vast trees made a perpetual twilight:moreover, it was strangely silent here, the few bird-cries that reachedme coming from a long distance. I had flattered myself that the voicehad become to some extent intelligible to me: its outburst of angercaused no doubt by my cowardly flight after the Indian; then itsrecovered friendliness, which had induced me to return; and finally itsdesire to be followed. Now that it had led me to this place of shadowand profound silence and had ceased to speak and to lead, I could nothelp thinking that this was my goal, that I had been brought to thisspot with a purpose, that in this wild and solitary retreat sometremendous adventure was about to befall me.

  As the silence continued unbroken, there was time to dwell on thisthought. I gazed before me and listened intently, scarcely breathing,until the suspense became painful--too painful at last, and I turned andtook a step with the idea of going back to the border of the wood, whenclose by, clear as a silver bell, sounded the voice once more, but onlyfor a moment--two or three syllables in response to my movement, then itwas silent again.

  Once more I was standing still, as if in obedience to a command, in thesame state of suspense; and whether the change was real or only imaginedI know not, but the silence every minute grew more profound and thegloom deeper. Imaginary terrors began to assail me. Ancient fables ofmen allured by beautiful forms and melodious voices to destruction allat once acquired a fearful significance. I recalled some of the Indianbeliefs, especially that of the mis-shapen, man-devouring monster who issaid to beguile his victims into the dark forest by mimicking the humanvoice--the voice sometimes of a woman in distress--or by singing somestrange and beautiful melody. I grew almost afraid to look round lest Ishould catch sight of him stealing towards me on his huge feet with toespointing backwards, his mouth snarling horribly to display his greatgreen fangs. It was distressing to have such fancies in this wild,solitary spot--hateful to feel their power over me when I knew that theywere nothing but fancies and creations of the savage mind. But if thesesupernatural beings had no existence, there were other monsters, onlytoo real, in these woods which it would be dreadful to encounter aloneand unarmed, since against such adversaries a revolver would be asineffectual as a popgun. Some huge camoodi, able to crush my bones likebrittle twigs in its constricting coils, might lurk in these shadows,and approach me stealthily, unseen in its dark colour on the darkground. Or some jaguar or black tiger might steal towards me, masked bya bush or tree-trunk, to spring upon me unawares. Or, worse still,this way might suddenly come a pack of those swift-footed, unspeakablyterrible hunting-leopards, from which every living thing in the forestflies with shrieks of consternation or else falls paralysed in theirpath to be instantly torn to pieces and devoured.

  A slight rustling sound in the foliage above me made me start andcast up my eyes. High up, where a pale gleam of tempered sunlight fellthrough the leaves, a grotesque human-like face, black as ebony andadorned with a great red beard, appeared staring down upon me. Inanother moment it was gone. It was only a large araguato, or howlingmonkey, but I was so unnerved that I could not get rid of the idea thatit was something more than a monkey. Once more I moved, and again, theinstant I moved my foot, clear, and keen, and imperative, sounded thevoice! It was no longer possible to doubt its meaning. It commanded meto stand still--to wait--to watch--to listen! Had it cried "Listen! Donot move!" I could not have understood it better. Trying as the suspensewas, I now felt powerless to escape. Something very terrible, I feltconvinced, was about to happen, either to destroy or to release me fromthe spell that held me.

  And while I stood thus rooted to the ground, the sweat standing in largedrops on my forehead, all at once close to me sounded a cry, fine andclear at first, and rising at the end to a shriek so loud, piercing, andunearthly in character that the blood seemed to freeze in my veins,and a despairing cry to heaven escaped my lips; then, before that longshriek expired, a mighty chorus of thunderous voices burst forth aroundme; and in this awful tempest of sound I trembled like a leaf; and theleaves on the trees were agitated as if by a high wind, and the earthitself seemed to shake beneath my feet. Indescribably horrible were mysensations at that moment; I was deafened, and would possibly have beenmaddened had I not, as by a miracle, chanced to see a large araguatoon a branch overhead, roaring with open mouth and inflated throat andchest.

  It was simply a concert of howling monkeys that had so terrified me! Butmy extreme fear was not strange in the circumstances; since everythingthat had led up to the display--the gloom and silence, the period ofsuspense, and my heated imagination--had raised my mind to the highestdegree of excitement and expectancy. I had rightly conjectured, nodoubt, that my unseen guide had led me to that spot for a purpose;and the purpose had been to set me in the midst of a congregation ofaraguatos to enable me for the first time fully to appreciate theirunparalleled vocal powers. I had always heard them at a distance; herethey were gathered in scores, possibly hundreds-
-the whole araguatopopulation of the forest, I should think--close to me; and it may givesome faint conception of the tremendous power and awful character ofthe sound thus produced by their combined voices when I say that thisanimal--miscalled "howler" in English--would outroar the mightiest lionthat ever woke the echoes of an African wilderness.

  This roaring concert, which lasted three or four minutes, having ended,I lingered a few minutes longer on the spot, and not hearing the voiceagain, went back to the edge of the wood, and then started on my wayback to the village.