In Far Bolivia Part 37

It was a spear wound, but he would not hear of it being dressed at present.

"What cheer then, Bill?"

"Not much of that," he answered, throwing himself down and lighting that marvellous meerschaum, from which he appeared to get so much consolation.

"Not a vast deal of cheer. Yes, I'll eat after I gets a bit cooler like."

"Ay, we'll have to fight the Dun-skins. They swarm in the forest between us and the Madeira, and they are about as far from bein' angels as any durned n.i.g.g.e.r could be."

"And what do you advise, Bill?"

"Well," was the reply, "as soon as your boys get their nose-bags off, my advice is to set to work with spade and shovel and transform this 'ere camp into a fortress.

"Ay, and it is one we won't be able to abandon for days and days to come," he added.

The men were now speedily told off to duty, and in a very short time had made the camp all but impregnable, and quite strong enough to give an excellent account of any number of Dun-skins.

The Paynee Indians are a semi-nomadic tribe of most implacable savages, who roam over hill and dell and upland, hunting or fighting as the case may be, but who have nevertheless a home in the dark mountain fastnesses of the far interior.

They are cannibals, though once, long, long ago, a band of Jesuits attempted their reclamation.

These brave missionaries numbered in all but one hundred and twenty men, and they went among the terrible natives with, figuratively speaking, their prayer-books in one hand, their lives in the other.

All went well for a time. They succeeded in winning the affections of the savages. They erected rude churches, and even to this day crosses of stone are to be found in this wild land, half-buried among the rank vegetation.

But there came a day, and a sad one it was, when the cannibals were attacked by a wild hill-tribe. These highlanders had heard that, owing to the new religion, their ancient enemies had degenerated into old wives and squaws.

A terrible battle ensued, during which the men from the uplands found out their mistake, for they were repulsed with fearful slaughter.

All might have gone well with the Jesuits even yet but for one _contretemps_.

At the very moment when the savages returned wildly exultant from the hills, bearing, horrible to relate, joints of human flesh on their spears, there came from the east a party of men who had been down to the banks of the Madeira, and had attacked and looted a small steamer that among other things had much fire-water on board.

Oh, that accursed fire-water, how terrible its results wherever on earth it gains ascendancy!

All the fearful pa.s.sions of these savages were soon let loose. The scene was like pandemonium.

The poor Jesuits hid themselves in their little church, barricading the door, and devoting the first part of the night to prayer and song. But at midnight the awful howling of the cannibals coming nearer and nearer told them that they had been missed, and that their doom was now sealed.

Only one man escaped to tell the terrible tale.

And these, or rather their descendants, were the very cannibals that Roland's little army had now to do battle with.

Both he and d.i.c.k, however, kept up a good heart.

There was ammunition enough to last for months of desultory firing, if necessary, and when the attack was made at last, after Bill's scouts had been driven in, the savages learned a lesson they were never likely to forget.

Brave indeed they were, and over and over again they charged, spear in hand, almost into the trenches. But only to be thrust back wounded, or to die where they stood, beneath a steady revolver fire.

But they retreated almost as quickly as they had come, and once more sought the shelter of bush and jungle.

Not for very long, however. They were evidently determined that the little garrison should enjoy no peace.

They had changed their tactics now, and instead of making wild rushes towards the ramparts, they commenced to bombard the fort with large stones.

With their slings the Bolivian Indians can aim with great precision, for they learn the art when they are mere infants.

As no one showed above the ramparts, there was in this case no human target for the missiles, but use was made of larger stones, and these kept falling into the trenches in all directions, so that much mischief was done and many men were hurt.

A terrible rifle fire was now opened upon that part of the bush in which the cannibal savages were supposed to be in force, and from the howling and shrieking that immediately followed, it was evident that many bullets were finding their billets.

But soon even these sounds died away, and it was evident enough that the enemy had retired, no doubt with the intention of inventing some new form of attack. There was peace now for many hours, and Roland took advantage of this to order dinner to be got ready. No men, unless it be the Scotch, can fight well on empty stomachs.

The wounded were attended to and made as comfortable as possible, and after this there was apparently very little to do except to wait and watch.

Burly Bill brought out his consolatory meerschaum. But while he puffed away, he was not idle. He was thinking.

Now thinking was not very much in this honest fellow's line. Action was more his _forte_. But the present occasion demanded thought.

The afternoon was already far spent. The sentries--lynx-eyed Indians, rifles in hand--were watching the bush, and longing for a shot. Roland and d.i.c.k, with Bill and big Brawn, were seated in the shade of a green and spreading tree, and all had been silent for some considerable time.

"I say, young fellows!" said Bill at last, "this kind of lounging doesn't suit me. What say you to a council of war?"

"Well, you've been thinking, Bill?"

"Ay, I've been doin' a smart bit o' that. Let us consult Charlie."

Charlie the ex-cannibal was now brought forward and seated on the gra.s.s.

There was a deal of practical knowledge in this Indian's head. His had been a very long experience of savage warfare and wandering in forests and wilds; and he was proud now to be consulted.

"Charlie," said Bill, "what do you think of the situation?"

"De sit-uation?" was the reply. "Me not likee he. Me tinkee we sitee too much. Byme by, de cannibal he come much quick. Ah! dere will soon be muchee much too much sabage cannibal! Fust de killee you and den de eatee you, and make fine bobbery. Ha! ha!"

"Well, Charlie, I don't think that there is a deal to laugh at.

Howsomever, we've got to do something soon."

"So, so," said Charlie, "notwidstanding."

"Well, I've been thinking that we should make tracks for the other side of the river. You see these savage rapscallions have no canoes, and they seem to have no food. They are not herons or storks, and can't wade through deep water."

"Foh true, sah. Dey am not stohks and dey am not herons notwidstanding, but see, sah, ebery man he am his own canoe! No stohks, but all same one frog, notwidstanding foh true!"

"And you think they would follow us?"

"All same's one eel--two hundred eel. Dey swim wid spears in mouf, and bow and arrow held high. Ha! ha! good soldier, ebery modder's son!"