CHAPTER XIV.
A STRANGE ENCOUNTER.
Fred Ashman was standing near the edge of the Xingu, as will beremembered, when his attention was diverted for the moment by a puma,which came out of the wood, drank from the stream, and then, after abrief pause, returned to his shelter.
All this while, the dull roar of the rapids was in the explorer's ears,and he was eager to withdraw his attention from the beast and direct itupon the opposite shore, where he was convinced something unusual wasgoing on.
The minute the beast disappeared, he looked across at the point thathad so interested him.
The question which he had asked himself some time before, was answeredby the sight of a small canoe that was stealing down the river, insteadof heading directly across to where he was standing. In this boat wasa single individual, using a paddle with the deftness of an AmericanIndian.
Here was something that needed attention, and, with the aid of thebrilliant moonlight. Ashman watched the craft and its occupant asclosely as if his own fate were wrapped up in its movements--asupposition which it was not improbable was fact itself.
The savage moved slowly, as if sensible of the call for the utmostcare, went only a few rods down stream, when he turned out in the waterand aimed for the shore where the watcher was standing. He had gonesome distance below, and it was to be supposed that the force of thecurrent would carry him still farther, so that if he made a landing itwas likely to be far below.
But he who held the paddle was a master of that species of navigation,and Ashman was surprised to observe that he was aiming at the very spotwhere he was standing carefully concealed in the shadow. If nothinginterfered, they were sure of making a closer acquaintance.
The boat was about the middle of the river, when the white man wasstruck by the immense size of the occupant. He was one of the largestmen he had ever seen, his weight sinking the canoe almost to itsgunwales.
"He must be the savage who hurled his javelin through our boat," wasthe conclusion of the astonished Fred. "What a magnificent fellow heis!"
The native sat so that his face was turned toward the young man, whostudied his countenance with the deepest interest.
He had the busy head, the large protruding eyes, and the dark, nakedskin of all his people. His enormous arms swung the paddle first onone side of the boat and then on the other. As he did so, Fred saw theplay of the splendid muscle, which was like that of Hercules himself.Rash would be that antagonist who engaged him in a hand-to-handstruggle.
Nothing in the world was easier than for the explorer to extinguish thelife in that impressive specimen of physical manhood, without the leastrisk to himself, and yet, although he knew him to be the mostformidable enemy of his people, he held no thought of doing himharm--at least not at the present stage of his extraordinary business.
It was at this decidedly interesting juncture that a new elementobtruded itself. The sounds of guns, shouts and yells, in thedirection of the rapids left no doubt that his friends there werehaving a lively time with the natives.
Ashman would have turned and made all haste thither, but for thepresence of this burly giant in front. Whatever was going on downstream was with the full knowledge of him, and he was the one for thewhite man to look after.
Had the latter been surprised by the sounds of conflict, he would haveceased paddling or headed his boat up stream, but he merely glancedtoward the rapids, and continued dipping his paddle and propelling hiscraft, as if it was his intention to step ashore and grasp the hand ofthe astonished youth awaiting his arrival.
The passage occupied but a very few minutes. Just before the bank wasreached, he made one powerful sweep of the oar, which sent the prow farup the shingle, and then leaped as lightly as a cat from the structure,which bounded up as if relieved of several hundred pounds' weight.
Turning about, the giant stooped down and took a spear as long andheavy as the one he had hurled nearly across the Xingu, through theboat of the explorers.
It seemed that there was to be no end to the obtrusion of "side issues"upon the little drama going on under Fred Ashman's eyes. It must havebeen that the puma which had slaked its thirst at the Xingu's margin ashort time before, had become convinced that parties were near,entitled to his attention.
While endeavoring to locate him, he probably caught sight of theapproaching native and concluded that he was the individual to whom heshould turn.
Be that as it may, the native had only time to pick up his ponderousspear and face toward the wood, when the lion emerged from thebroadening band of shadow, and, with a low, threatening growl, advancedupon him.
Like the cat species to which he belonged, he crouched so low whilewalking, that his shoulders protruded above his back in large humps,and his belly almost touched the ground. His long tail flirted angrilyfrom side to side, his jaws were parted, disclosing his sharp,carnivorous teeth and blood-red tongue, while his eyes emitted aphosphorescent glow that was like fire itself.
He was a formidable antagonist, and as Ashman observed his movementsand ugly appearance, he felt like pumping a half dozen bullets into hislank, muscular body.
But he experienced the natural interest of a sportsman in an impendingfight, and was curious to see how the huge native would acquit himselfin the struggle at hand.
He was not kept long in doubt. The savage observed the puma the momenthis head emerged from the shadow into the moonlight, and he instantlyprepared himself to meet him.
Little preparation, however, was necessary, for he carried but thesingle weapon and that had only to be grasped in his right hand.
The warrior might have leaped into his craft and escaped by paddlingout in the river, where he could drive the boat at a faster pace thanthe beast could swim, but he did nothing of the kind.
He neither advanced nor retreated, but, standing just in front of theprow, he rested on his right leg; with the left foot thrown forward,and the tremendous javelin balanced over his right shoulder.
His pose was admirable, and even in that thrilling moment compelled theadmiration of the single spectator, who was strongly of the opinionthat the puma, to put it mildly, was committing an error of judgment.
There may have been some strange, instinctive knowledge whichpenetrated the brain of the beast before he reached the assailingpoint, and which compelled him to stop. The individual whom he hadselected as his victim was not to be crushed at a single effort, as hewas accustomed to bring down the llamas, antelope, and other animals ofthe wilderness. No; there was something in that pose, the demeanor andthe flash of the midnight eyes which forced the fierce creature topause, when on the very death line, as it may be termed.
But if the native was defiant, the puma had no purpose of retreatingfrom before such a powerful enemy. In his blind ferocity, he wouldhave assailed him, could it have been impressed upon him that his owndestruction would be the inevitable result.
The lank jaws were still parted and dripped foam, as the lion continuedhis cavernous growls, while his ears lying flat on his head in themanner peculiar to the feline species, the bristling spine and thelashing of the tail gave the beast the appearance of a bundle ofconcentrated fury, as indeed he was.
Fred Ashman was struck almost breathless by what followed.
He observed the curious, twitching movement of the puma's legs as theywere gathered closer under his body, and which is always a sureevidence that the animal is about to make his decisive leap upon hisvictim. The native must have read the movement aright, for the handover his shoulder was suddenly thrown back and instantly forward again,as his javelin left his grasp with terrific force and the suddenness oflightning.
But inconceivably quick as was the action, the puma dodged the missile,which entered the earth just behind him, and driven with suchtremendous force was buried half its length in the ground.
Almost at the same instant the body of the lion rose in air and shotforward as if driven from the throat of a Parrott gun.
But if the br
ute was quick, so was the man, who dropped downwardwithout moving his feet, and allowed his assailant to pass over hishead and land directly in the canoe, where for a single second only hewas partly hidden from sight.
Hardly had he landed, when the warrior darted forward several paces towhere his javelin projected from the ground, seized it with both handsand wrenched it free. Whirling about, he confronted the beast oncemore, as he was gathering himself for a second leap.
The savage learned wisdom from what had just occurred, and instead ofallowing the weapon to leave his hand, held it with an immovable gripand awaited the renewal of the attack.
The puma seemed also to have absorbed some instruction from hisfailure, and instead of leaping at once, began a stealthy advance,coming over the side of the canoe with the gliding motion of a serpent,and evidently wishing to get so near that his victim could not escapeagain by the means he used before.
Suddenly the native, still holding the javelin with both hands, steppedforward a single pace. This placed him in the strongest possibleposition, and, with one appalling thrust, he drove the spear for adistance of two feet into the chest of the puma, instantly snatching itforth again, moving back a couple of feet, and holding himself readyfor any assault from the brute.
No need of any virus on the point of _that_ weapon, for it had cloventhe heart of the lion in twain, and he went down without a singlegroan, as dead as dead could be.
The native stepped to the river, washed the blood from the weapon andthen turned about to resume his advance toward the wood.
As he did so, he found himself face to face with a white man, who,stepping from the shadow, held his Winchester leveled at him in anexceedingly suggestive fashion.
If Fred Ashman had been astonished before, what words shall describehis amazement when the dusky Hercules, calmly staring at him for amoment, said in unmistakable English, "_I surrender_."