CHAPTER V.

  THE NATIVE VILLAGE.

  Meanwhile, Fred Ashman and Aaron Johnston the sailor, found themselvesinvolved in a most stirring experience.

  After studying the path or trail which led directly from the camp intothe vast forest, stretching to an unknown distance from the Xingu, theyoung man decided to follow the route which he believed had been formedby persons instead of the wild animals of the wilderness.

  Johnston was disposed to complain, but he was deeply attached to themanly partner in the exploring enterprise, and there was no reasonableperil which he would not willingly face in his defence.

  The forest wore an unusually gloomy and dismal appearance, now that thesun had set and night was closing in.

  The roar of the rapids, which at first sounded so loud, grew duller andfainter as they penetrated the wood until it became like the moaning ofthe distant ocean. The men spoke in guarded undertones and were ableto hear each other plainly, while eyes and ears were on the alert, forthe first sight or sound of danger.

  Being within the forest, they were favored with but little of themoonlight, which proved such a help to their friends in their ascent ofthe bank of the Xingu to the head of the rapids. But here and there afew of the rays penetrated the vegetation overhead and illuminated thetrail sufficiently to prevent their wandering from it.

  Ashman was less than a rod in advance of the sailor and led until theyhad traversed perhaps a fifth of a mile, during which they met noliving creature, though the noises from the wood left no doubt thatwild animals were on every hand.

  Fred began to think he had gone far enough, though his wish to obtain aglimpse of the village, which he believed was not far off, preventedhis coming to a full stop. Johnston noticing his hesitation put inanother vigorous protest, but he was easily persuaded to venturefurther under the pledge that if they discovered nothing within thenext ten minutes, they would withdraw and return to camp.

  Knowing that his companion would insist on the fulfillment of thisagreement, Fred pushed on faster than before; the sailor, however,easily maintaining his place almost on his heels. It was only atintervals they spoke, for there was no call to do so, and it was notwise to allow any cause to interfere with their watchfulness for theperil which was liable to come with the suddenness of the thunderbolt.

  By stepping carefully they were able to proceed without noise, and, atthe same time, hoped to catch the sound of any other footsteps, sincethere was not supposed to be any call on the part of the natives forthe caution which they might have displayed under differentcircumstances.

  The young man's heart gave a quicker throb than usual when he caughtthe sound of something like a shout, and observed a faint light in thepath in front. It was apparent that the latter made an abrupt turn,and the cause of the noise was but a brief distance beyond.

  Fred reached back his hand and touched his companion, as a warning forthe most extreme care on his part, but the admonition was not needed.Johnston understood the situation too well.

  Sure enough, less than a couple of rods further, and the path turnedalmost at right angles. Passing guardedly around this, the explorerscame upon a striking scene.

  There was an open space with an area of perhaps three or four acres; itwas as clear of trees as a stretch of western prairie. It wastriangular in shape, the boundary being so regular that there could beno doubt it was artificially made.

  Around three sides of this space were erected huts or cabins, theexcellence and similarity or their structure suggesting that thenatives were the superior in intelligence of any that had yet beenencountered during the ascent of the Xingu. The huts were a dozen feetsquare, half as high, and each had a broad open entrance in the middleof the front. They seemed to be built of logs or heavy limbs, theroofs being flat and composed of the branches of trees, overlaid withleaves and earth.

  In the middle of the open square was a tall pole, like an immenseflag-staff. The light which had been noticed sometime before by thewhites was the full flood of the moon's rays, there being no other kindof illumination, so far as they could ascertain, in the native village.

  The huge pole was without any limbs or appurtenances, but around thespace were gathered a score of figures in rapid motion, the meaning ofwhose actions was a puzzle to the white spectators, until they studiedthem.

  Then it was seen they were struggling together, and the conclusion wasthat they were engaged in some kind of a rough sport, for all the restof the savages were seated in front of their huts watching the singularspectacle.

  Naturally they ought to have come closer, and the fact that they didnot, suggested that they kept back to give the actors plenty of roomfor their performances.

  Not the least impressive feature of the scene was the profound silencewhich marked it. The shout that first arrested the attention of Ashmanand his companion, must have been some kind of a signal, probablyannouncing the opening of the proceedings.

  It was evident that the villagers in the square were struggling hard,for their forms were interlocked and they were divided into two lines,which swayed back and forth as one gained or yielded ground.

  "It is a wrestling bout," whispered Ashman to his companion, and then,reflecting that their situation was dangerous, the two stopped from thepath among the trees, where they would not be noticed by any passingnear.

  Suddenly something like a groan was heard from the body of contestingmen. Almost at the same instant, a command was shouted from thefurther end of the square, where part of the spectators were gathered.The two lines fell apart, and ran silently and swiftly to oppositepoints a hundred feet distant, where they abruptly halted as if inobedience to some signal and faced each other.

  This was stirring enough, but that which riveted the eyes of the whitemen was the sight of three figures lying prone on the ground, at thefoot of the pole.

  They were as motionless as so many stones. There could be no mistakingthe significance of the sight: they were dead.

  It may have been some species of sport in which the actors were engagedfor the entertainment of the spectators, but, if so, there was an awfulearnestness about it, for the stake for which they strove was humanlife.

  The two lines faced each other but a moment, when another shout rangout, and they rushed together once more with the fury of two cyclones.

  By this time, our friends had discovered that no member of the partieswas furnished with any weapon other than those provided by nature.

  Fearful then must have been the struggle, which had already terminatedin the death of three of the contestants.

  But they were at it again with the fierceness of so many cougarsfighting in defence of their young.

  The result was terrifying. The contest had lasted but a few minutes,and already a couple were on the earth, when one of the combatants,with a cry of pain dashed in almost a direct line toward the spot whereour friends were hiding.

  Had he not been overtaken and dragged back, he would have been uponthem before they could get out of the way, and it is not difficult toconjecture what would have followed.

  The miserable wretch, however, was seized on the very edge of the woodby four others and carried writhing and resisting back to the space.There he was flung down, and, being unable to rise, the others leapedupon him and in a few minutes all was over. He was added to the listthat were already _hors du combat_.

  Ashman and Johnston had received a shock which drove away all interestin the fearful spectacle. Their escape was exceedingly narrow and theycould scarcely hope for such good fortune again.

  Fred touched his friend and whispered to him. Immediately, they beganstealing from the dangerous spot.