Green Mansions: A Romance of the Tropical Forest

  CHAPTER IV

  Perhaps I was not capable of thinking quite coherently on what had justhappened until I was once more fairly outside of the forest shadows--outin that clear open daylight, where things seem what they are, andimagination, like a juggler detected and laughed at, hastily takesitself out of the way. As I walked homewards I paused midway on thebarren ridge to gaze back on the scene I had left, and then the recentadventure began to take a semi-ludicrous aspect in my mind. All thatcircumstance of preparation, that mysterious prelude to somethingunheard of, unimaginable, surpassing all fables ancient and modern, andall tragedies--to end at last in a concert of howling monkeys! Certainlythe concert was very grand--indeed, one of the most astounding innature---but still--I sat down on a stone and laughed freely.

  The sun was sinking behind the forest, its broad red disk still showingthrough the topmost leaves, and the higher part of the foliage was ofa luminous green, like green flame, throwing off flakes of quivering,fiery light, but lower down the trees were in profound shadow.

  I felt very light-hearted while I gazed on this scene, for how pleasantit was just now to think of the strange experience I had passedthrough--to think that I had come safely out of it, that no humaneye had witnessed my weakness, and that the mystery existed still tofascinate me! For, ludicrous as the denouement now looked, the cause ofall, the voice itself, was a thing to marvel at more than ever. That itproceeded from an intelligent being I was firmly convinced; and althoughtoo materialistic in my way of thinking to admit for a moment that itwas a supernatural being, I still felt that there was something morethan I had at first imagined in Kua-ko's speech about a daughter of theDidi. That the Indians knew a great deal about the mysterious voice, andhad held it in great fear, seemed evident. But they were savages, withways that were not mine; and however friendly they might be towards oneof a superior race, there was always in their relations with him alow cunning, prompted partly by suspicion, underlying their words andactions. For the white man to put himself mentally on their level isnot more impossible than for these aborigines to be perfectly open, aschildren are, towards the white. Whatever subject the stranger withintheir gates exhibits an interest in, that they will be reticent about;and their reticence, which conceals itself under easily invented liesor an affected stupidity, invariably increases with his desire forinformation. It was plain to them that some very unusual interest tookme to the wood; consequently I could not expect that they would tellme anything they might know to enlighten me about the matter; and Iconcluded that Kua-ko's words about the daughter of the Didi, and whatshe would do if he blew an arrow at a bird, had accidentally escapedhim in a moment of excitement. Nothing, therefore, was to be gainedby questioning them, or, at all events, by telling them how muchthe subject attracted me. And I had nothing to fear; my independentinvestigations had made this much clear to me; the voice might proceedfrom a very frolicsome and tricksy creature, full of wild fantastichumours, but nothing worse. It was friendly to me, I felt sure; at thesame time it might not be friendly towards the Indians; for, on thatday, it had made itself heard only after my companion had taken flight;and it had then seemed incensed against me, possibly because the savagehad been in my company.

  That was the result of my reflections on the day's events when Ireturned to my entertainer's roof and sat down among my friends torefresh myself with stewed fowl and fish from the household pot, intowhich a hospitable woman invited me with a gesture to dip my fingers.

  Kua-ko was lying in his hammock, smoking, I think--certainly notreading. When I entered he lifted his head and stared at me, probablysurprised to see me alive, unharmed, and in a placid temper. I laughedat the look, and, somewhat disconcerted, he dropped his head down again.After a minute or two I took the metal match-box and tossed it on tohis breast. He clutched it and, starting up, stared at me in the utmostastonishment. He could scarcely believe his good fortune; for he hadfailed to carry out his part of the compact and had resigned himself tothe loss of the coveted prize. Jumping down to the floor, he held up thebox triumphantly, his joy overcoming the habitual stolid look; while allthe others gathered about him, each trying to get the box into his ownhands to admire it again, notwithstanding that they had all seen it adozen times before. But it was Kua-ko's now and not the stranger's, andtherefore more nearly their own than formerly, and must look different,more beautiful, with a brighter polish on the metal. And that wonderfulenamelled cock on the lid--figured in Paris probably, but just like acock in Guayana, the pet bird which they no more think of killing andeating than we do our purring pussies and lemon-coloured canaries--mustnow look more strikingly valiant and cock-like than ever, with itscrimson comb and wattles, burnished red hackles, and dark green archingtail-plumes. But Kua-ko, while willing enough to have it admired andpraised, would not let it out of his hands, and told them pompously thatit was not theirs for them to handle, but his--Kua-ko's--for all time;that he had won it by accompanying me--valorous man that he was!--tothat evil wood into which they--timid, inferior creatures that theywere!--would never have ventured to set foot. I am not translating hiswords, but that was what he gave them to understand pretty plainly, tomy great amusement.

  After the excitement was over, Runi, who had maintained a dignifiedcalm, made some roundabout remarks, apparently with the object ofeliciting an account of what I had seen and heard in the forest ofevil fame. I replied carelessly that I had seen a great many birds andmonkeys--monkeys so tame that I might have procured one if I had hada blow-pipe, in spite of my never having practiced shooting with thatweapon.

  It interested them to hear about the abundance and tameness of themonkeys, although it was scarcely news; but how tame they must have beenwhen I, the stranger not to the manner born--not naked, brown-skinned,lynx-eyed, and noiseless as an owl in his movements--had yet been ableto look closely at them! Runi only remarked, apropos of what I had toldhim, that they could not go there to hunt; then he asked me if I fearednothing.

  "Nothing," I replied carelessly. "The things you fear hurt not the whiteman and are no more than this to me," saying which I took up a littlewhite wood-ash in my hand and blew it away with my breath. "And againstother enemies I have this," I added, touching my revolver. A bravespeech, just after that araguato episode; but I did not make it withoutblushing--mentally.

  He shook his head, and said it was a poor weapon against some enemies;also--truly enough--that it would procure no birds and monkeys for thestew-pot.

  Next morning my friend Kua-ko, taking his zabatana, invited me to go outwith him, and I consented with some misgivings, thinking he had overcomehis superstitious fears and, inflamed by my account of the abundanceof game in the forest, intended going there with me. The previous day'sexperience had made me think that it would be better in the future togo there alone. But I was giving the poor youth more credit than hedeserved: it was far from his intention to face the terrible unknownagain. We went in a different direction, and tramped for hours throughwoods where birds were scarce and only of the smaller kinds. Then myguide surprised me a second time by offering to teach me to use thezabatana. This, then, was to be my reward for giving him the box! Ireadily consented, and with the long weapon, awkward to carry, in myhand, and imitating the noiseless movements and cautious, watchfulmanner of my companion, I tried to imagine myself a simple Guayanasavage, with no knowledge of that artificial social state to which I hadbeen born, dependent on my skill and little roll of poison-darts fora livelihood. By an effort of the will I emptied myself of my lifeexperience and knowledge--or as much of it as possible--and thoughtonly of the generations of my dead imaginary progenitors, who had rangedthese woods back to the dim forgotten years before Columbus; and if thepleasure I had in the fancy was childish, it made the day pass quicklyenough. Kua-ko was constantly at my elbow to assist and give advice; andmany an arrow I blew from the long tube, and hit no bird. Heaven knowswhat I hit, for the arrows flew away on their wide and wild career tobe seen no more, except a few which my keen-eyed comrade marked to theirdest
ination and managed to recover. The result of our day's hunting wasa couple of birds, which Kua-ko, not I, shot, and a small opossum hissharp eyes detected high up a tree lying coiled up on an old nest, overthe side of which the animal had incautiously allowed his snaky tailto dangle. The number of darts I wasted must have been a rather seriousloss to him, but he did not seem troubled at it, and made no remark.

  Next day, to my surprise, he volunteered to give me a second lesson, andwe went out again. On this occasion he had provided himself with alarge bundle of darts, but--wise man!--they were not poisoned, and ittherefore mattered little whether they were wasted or not. I believethat on this day I made some little progress; at all events, my teacherremarked that before long I would be able to hit a bird. This made mesmile and answer that if he could place me within twenty yards of a birdnot smaller than a small man I might manage to touch it with an arrow.

  This speech had a very unexpected and remarkable effect. He stoppedshort in his walk, stared at me wildly, then grinned, and finally burstinto a roar of laughter, which was no bad imitation of the howlingmonkey's performance, and smote his naked thighs with tremendous energy.At length recovering himself, he asked whether a small woman was notthe same as a small man, and being answered in the affirmative, went offinto a second extravagant roar of laughter.

  Thinking it was easy to tickle him while he continued in this mood, Ibegan making any number of feeble jokes--feeble, but quite as good asthe one which had provoked such outrageous merriment--for it amusedme to see him acting in this unusual way. But they all failed of theireffect--there was no hitting the bull's-eye a second time; he would onlystare vacantly at me, then grunt like a peccary--not appreciatively--andwalk on. Still, at intervals he would go back to what I had said abouthitting a very big bird, and roar again, as if this wonderful joke wasnot easily exhausted.

  Again on the third day we were out together practicing at thebirds--frightening if not killing them; but before noon, finding that itwas his intention to go to a distant spot where he expected to meetwith larger game, I left him and returned to the village. The blow-pipepractice had lost its novelty, and I did not care to go on all dayand every day with it; more than that, I was anxious after so long aninterval to pay a visit to my wood, as I began to call it, in the hopeof hearing that mysterious melody which I had grown to love and to misswhen even a single day passed without it.