CHAPTER XVIII.
THE NICK OF TIME.
The peril which menaced the explorers was more frightful than any thatthey had been called upon to face since entering that mysterious landknown by the name of the Matto Grosso.
The Aryks numbered more than half a hundred, all active, vigilant andarmed with their fearful poisoned javelins. They had taken positionamong the trees on the western bank of the Xingu, at the base of therapids, at the very point where the white men intended to shouldertheir canoe and make their last portage.
Instead of being in the open, where they were in plain sight of thedefenders, and fair targets for their unerring Winchesters, they werestationed behind the numerous trunks or lying on the ground, wherelittle could be seen of them except their bushy heads and gleamingblack eyes, as they glared with inextinguishable hate at the white menwho had slain so many of their number.
The suspicious Long was looking in the direction, with the thought thatif any ambush was attempted, that would be the very spot, when hecaught sight of a dusky figure, as it whisked from behind a narrowtrunk to another that afforded better cover.
That hasty glance in the dim morning light revealed an alarming numberof heads glaring around the trees and from among the undergrowth likeso many wild beasts, aflame with fury and the exultation of savages whoknew that their enemies were at last forced inextricably into theirgrasp.
So assured were the Aryks in fact that they showed a disposition to toyfor a moment with their victims, as a cat does with a mouse beforecraunching it in her jaws. They brandished their weapons, dancedgrotesquely and uttered shrill shrieks audible above the deafening roarof the angry Xingu as it foamed through the rapids.
It was a fearful trap in which our friends found themselves, for it wasimpossible to advance or retreat, and it was madness to hope that theycould again escape the shower of spears that were already poised in theair and ready to be launched.
Bippo and Pedros, with wild shrieks of terror bounded into the canoe,and wrapping the blankets around them, cowered in abject helpless dreadof impending death. They were only an incumbrance, as they had provenin more than one crisis before.
But not one of the Caucasians showed the white feather. Disdaining toseek impossible shelter, they coolly prepared to die fighting, whileexposed to the hurtling javelins, whose appalling effectiveness theyknew too well.
But at this appalling juncture, when life hung on the passing moment, apiercing shout rang out above the roar of the waters.
It came from a point behind them, and, despite the imminent peril allthree looked around.
A small canoe was darting across the Xingu toward them, so close to thefoot of the rapids, that it danced about like a cork and seemed certainto be submerged every minute.
In this frail craft sat the giant Ziffak, propelling it across thefurious swirl with such prodigious power that though the spume dashedover it, the boat was driven by the sheer power of his mighty armsunder, above, and through the waters.
It was he who uttered the resounding cry which caused the wonderingexplorers to turn their heads, and stayed the uplifted arms of thevenomous Aryks.
All saw the giant head chieftain of the Murhapas who repeated the shoutand added an exclamation that was a command, forbidding his allies tohurl a single weapon.
They must have deemed him mad, but if so he was ten times more to bedreaded than if sane. Not a javelin was launched, but all stoodmotionless awaiting his arrival, and doubtless believing he meant themto pause only long enough to place himself at their head as the leader.
They must have thought, too, that his appearance so filled the whiteswith fear that their arms were paralyzed, for, though he was in directrange, not a hand of the foreigners was raised to do him hurt.
Coming with such tremendous speed, Ziffak occupied but a moment inpassing the remaining distance. Before the prow of his boat couldtouch land, he flung the paddle aside, spurned the canoe with his foot,caught up his huge spear, and with one bound placed himself oppositethe wondering trio of white men, while two more leaps landed him amongthe Aryks.
Grimcke, Ashman and Long had read aright the meaning of the amazingdemonstration and calmly awaited the issue.
Pausing in the very middle of the dusky force, he addressed them intheir native tongue, with savage gestures and a fierceness of toneswhich rendered every word audible amid the roaring tumult.
Only a second or two was required for him to finish his harangue, whenhe made a final command for them to fall back, emphasized by the swingof his tremendous arms.
No more striking proof could have been given of the sway of this mightywarrior over his vassals, than was shown by their instant obedience tothe order, which fell upon them like the bursting of a thunderbolt fromthe clear summer sky.
They did not scatter and flee, for they had not been directed to do so,but skurried several rods back among the trees, so as to leave the wayopen for the explorers to pass around the rapids to the calmer watersabove.
Ziffak did not remove his eyes from the natives, until he saw that hiscommands were not only obeyed, but that it was understood by them thatthe white men were not to be molested.
This extraordinary person had hastened to the other shore, inaccordance with his pledge, only to learn from a couple of Aryks whomhe met that the main body of warriors had again crossed the Xingu abovethe rapids, and were gathered in the wood waiting for the whites towalk into the trap set for them.
Had our friends remained where he left them, no danger would have beenencountered, but, as we have shown, they moved up stream and camewithin a hair's-breadth of being wiped from the face of the earthbefore their powerful ally could interfere.
The breaking morning gave Ziffak his first knowledge of the mistakethey had made, and, leaping into his canoe, he drove it across thestream with resistless speed, reaching the spot in the nick of time,and barely doing that, since he was forced to raise his voice while yeton the river, in order to hold the battle in suspense.
Having satisfied himself that everything was adjusted, Ziffak nowturned around, and, without the least appearance of agitation on hisswarthy countenance, signified that the path was open for them tocontinue their journey.
Reaching into the canoe, Ashman seized Bippo by the nape of the neckand hoisted him out on land. He did the same with Pedros, both of themhowling in the extremity of mortal terror. Tearing the blankets fromtheir bodies, he shouted for them to give their help in carrying thecanoe and luggage around the rapids.
It was some minutes before they could comprehend in their blind way thesituation. Finally, when they saw that their deaths were postponed,they lent their aid as eagerly as a couple of obedient dogs.
The sturdy whites were equally helpful, and the boat was quickly raisedaloft and so adjusted that its well apportioned weight bore lightlyupon the shoulders of all.
The sidelong glances which Bippo and Pedros cast at the Aryks as theymoved up the bank, brought a smile to the whites who witnessed them.The poor fellows were ready to let go and drop down dead the momentthey felt the puncture of the whizzing javelins.
The Professor was at the head of the strange procession bearing theboat on their shoulders. Like his companions, he moved with a springy,elastic step, for he had received the most striking proof possible ofthe friendship of Ziffak, and he foresaw the dazzling results that wereto flow from such an alliance.
Had this remarkable savage been disposed to play them false, no betteropportunity could have been given than that which occurred a fewminutes before. All he had to do was to arrive on the spot a minutelater: the Aryks would have left nothing for him except to view thedead bodies of the whites and their servants.
As for Jared Long, the doubter, he was willing to admit that he hadmade a grevious error of judgment. Had he thought that Ziffaksuspected his misgivings, he would have taken the fellow's hand, andhumbly begged his pardon.