Jan of the Jungle (12 page)

His lank body was incased, also, in silver armor, and over his shoulders was thrown a long, black cape, broidered and bordered with silver and jewels. Depending from about his neck by a slender chain was a ball of silver, circled with many concentric disks of the same metal-an emblem of the planet, Saturn.

As he stared down at Jan, his ghastly features were immobile, inscrutable. Only his sunken eyes, which glowed with the greenish light that characterizes the orbs of night-prowling beasts showed any signs of animation. And their gaze was baleful-menacing.

After looking at Jan for a moment, he addressed a few words to his captor. The latter replied at some length. When he had finished, the man on the throne made a sign with his right hand. As he did so, the youth noticed that in his palm was tattooed a blue flower like that in the paten of Ramona, a copy of which was in Jan's own palm.

In response to the gesture, a fat, black-robed, shaved-headed fellow with heavy pink jowls came and bowed be-, fore the throne, extending a metal box with the lid thrown back. From this box the man on the throne selected a jeweled bracelet, which he tossed to Jan's still kneeling captor. Then he clapped his hands, whereupon two armored guards clanked into the room from a door at the side of the dais.

At a word of command from the man on the throne, each of them seized Jan by an arm, and together they marched him away. After they had gone down a narrow and tortuous corridor for a long way, they came out into a sunlit courtyard paved with black granite. Crossing this, they arrived before a massive gate, guarded by four armored pikemen and four ax-men.

One of the pikemen drew back a heavy-bar, and the gate swung open. After removing the rope from around Jan's 'neck and cutting his bonds with a dagger, his two conductors pushed him through. Bewildered, he looked about him as the gate closed behind him.

He stood in a long, rectangular pen surrounded by twenty-foot walls built of large granite blocks, smooth-faced and so carefully fitted together that it was barely possible to see where they joined.

In the pen were several hundred men-not white like his captors, yet lighter in color than the Indians he had encountered in the jungle. Their skin seemed to vary from light tan to yellow. Some of them closely resembled Indians except for their lighter skins, but the eyes of most of them slanted more, and their cheek bones were more pronounced. All wore leather breech clouts and sandals of twisted grass, and some had gaudily colored blankets thrown over their shoulders.

They were squatting on the ground or standing around in little groups, conversing. But as soon as Jan entered he became the target for their glances, and evidently the chief subject of their conversation. Many crowded around him, chattering excitedly, and staring as if he were some strange beast on exhibition. The ring drew closer.

Jan snarled menacingly. He disliked Indians, for with a single exception they had always proved hostile to him; always sought his life. These men reminded him of Indians. But they gave way before him as he strode forward, stiffly erect and alert for attack, toward the gate at the opposite end of the inclosure. Perhaps they were awed by the fire that flashed from his steel-gray eyes. Or they may have been impressed by the powerful muscles that rippled beneath his smooth skin.

Having crossed the inclosure without being touched, Jan sat down in the shadow of the gate. Although many slanting eyes still stared at him, no one had followed. He considered plans for escape. He could not scale the twenty-foot walls unaided. Furthermore, at intervals of thirty feet around the rim were small sentry towers, each of which held two archers. Great stealth would' be required, even on the darkest night, to avoid these alert watchers and escape with a whole skin.

ABRUPTLY THE GATE behind Jan swung open. He sprang to his feet as four black-armored men entered, marching abreast, carrying long swords in their hands. Behind them came a file of slant-eyed, yellow-skinned slaves, naked save for breech clouts and sandals. Each slave bore an immense tray on his head, and Jan saw that some were heaped high with fruits, some with chunks of cooked meat, and some with golden-brown cakes. Following these slaves were others who bore large earthenware jars on their heads, and around whose waists cups hanging from wire hooks jingled musically.

As the gate closed behind them, the slaves carrying the trays knelt in a row, still holding them on their heads. Those who carried the jars also knelt, and set them on the ground. The occupants of the inclosure, meanwhile, hurried to form a long line, jostling and crowding each other for the places nearest the front. Then, at a shout from one of the swordsmen, they filed past the row of kneeling slaves, where each was supplied with a piece of meat, a cake, some fruit, and a cupful of brown beverage which was dipped from the jars, and which Jan afterward learned was called chocolate. The four swordsmen stood by, to see that no one got more than his share.

Jan was hungry, having eaten nothing since entering the valley. He went to one of the meat trays and was about to help himself when a swordsman shouted something to him which he could not understand, and ran between him and the tray, brandishing his weapon. Under the menace of the keen blade, Jan backed away, the guard following him chattering and gesticulating.

He was made to understand that he must take his place in the line, at the very end. So carefully had the supply of rations been computed that when Jan finally reached them, but one portion of each thing was left. With his meat, cake and fruit held in the curve of his left arm before him, and his cup' of chocolatl in his right hand, he made his way through the jostling crowd. The slaves and swordsmen withdrew, and he heard the gate slam shut after them.

Suddenly a brown hand reached over his shoulder from behind and snatched his meat. With a low growl of rage, Jan whirled to confront the pilferer. But there were no less than a half dozen men behind him, each of whom might have been guilty. Each wore an innocent expression, and none seemed to have more than one piece of meat.

Enraged and disappointed at losing his favorite food, but unable to tell who snatched it, he turned away to seek a spot where he might eat the remainder of his rations undisturbed. Then a youth of about his own age stepped in front of him with a friendly smile, and tearing his own piece of meat in two, offered him half.

Jan was nonplused. The anger surging within him made him feel like flying at any one who crossed his path. But his wrath dissolved before that disarming smile and unselfish offer. He accepted the meat, and the two lads sat down side by side to eat, neither knowing that this was to be the beginning of a friendship that would be strong and lasting.

They conversed by signs at first, but Jan soon made his companion understand that he wished to know the names of things, by pointing to or touching them and looking at him questioningly. As he was quick to learn and had an excellent memory, it was not long before he was combining verbs and adjectives with his nouns, and forming short sentences in this new language.

Weeks passed, and though many prisoners were taken away and new ones brought in, Jan and his companion remained. During this time. Jan learned the language of the yellow people, and also a considerable portion of that of their white captors, which his friend taught him.

The yellow-skinned youth's name was Koh Kan, Kob being his given name and Kan both his family name and title. Tattooed in the palm of his right hand was a picture of a feathered serpent, done in red. This, he told Jan, was a picture of Kan, the mighty serpent, earthly representative of the Fair God, Quetzalcoatl, whose abode was in the sun, but who was expected to return some day to earth. Koh's father, he said, was hereditary ruler of his race and High Priest of Kan, so he was Prince Koh of the House of Kan. Jan had only a hazy idea of the position of a prince, but he had noticed the great respect shown this one by the yellow prisoners, and judged that it must be quite important.

Koh said his people lived in a great city called Temukan, which was a long, dangerous journey away, beyond an immense, muddy pit in which roved terrible and gigantic monsters. They were always at war with the white people, he said, whose chief city was called Satmu, and who worshiped a number of gods. His people, he said, had but one sect and worshiped Quetzalcoatl in the person of Kan, the great feathered serpent, who was propitiated with human sacrifice-prisoners of war and convicted criminals.

The white people, he said, were divided into four sects who worshiped two gods Re and Asar; a goddess, Aset; and a demon, Set-whose earthly representative was Sebek, a very terrible living water monster. They also did homage to three minor divinities.

The Sect of Re, he said, wore gold-plated armor, or clothing of a golden yellow color-such as had first captured Jan. That of Asar wore white, and that of Aset light blue. But the Sect of Set wore black.

"You and I," he told Jan, "have been captured by the people of Set."

"For what purpose?" asked Jan.

"Each day," said Koh, "you have noticed that two men are taken away, never to return?"

"Yes, I have noticed that," replied Jan.

"They are fed to the monster, Sebek," said Koh. "Some day we, too, shall be fed to him, as will every man in this place."

"What is he like?" Jan wanted to know.

"There are said to be monsters like him in the great pit of mud which lies near the center of the valley, but nowhere else," Koh told him. "His head and long jaws 'are like those of an alligator, but many times bigger. His body is very long, and his feet are like the fins of a fish. Here, I will show you."

With the tip of his finger he sketched a picture of the creature he had described. Then arising, he continued: "He is said to be this long," and stepped off twenty paces, or about fifty feet.

"But if there are other creatures like this," said Jan, "why is it that they feed men to this one only?"

"He is selected from among the others by the High Priest," Koh replied, "who makes certain tests to ascertain whether or not the soul of Set has descended into him. This only happens about once in five generations, as the beasts are very long-lived, and a new one is selected from the pit only when an old one dies."

At every opportunity Jan made inquiries about Chicma, but he learned nothing until one day when a prisoner who had formerly been a slave of the golden Sect of Re told him he had seen her, and that she was kept as an object of great curiosity in the royal palace of Satmu, having been presented to the empress by the captain of a band of huntsmen who had captured her.

A few days after that, as Jan and Koh sat talking, four guards walked up to where they sat.

"It is the summons!" whispered Koh. "We are to be fed to Sebek! Farewell, friend Jan. I hope that we may meet and be friends in the next world."

The two lads embraced, but were quickly torn apart by the guards, who hustled them away.

ON ONE of the long wooden docks that projected over the river in front of the Suarez hacienda, Don Fernando and Dona Isabella, as well as a score of their Indian servants, stood gazing intently downstream. Today Ramona was expected home from her first year of school in the United States. A servant had just come dashing up to the house to announce that the boats were coming.

After gazing for a brief interval, Don Fernando removed his slim cigar from between his lips and said to his wife:

"The mozo was wrong. Those are not our canoes."

"But they must be," insisted Dona Isabella. "Who else would be coming this way with so many boats?"

The don shrugged.

"Explorers, perhaps, or a party of hunters. We'll soon see."

There were six canoes in all, most of them smaller than the six sent out by Don Fernando in charge of Felipe Fuez, his foreman, with orders to meet and bring Ramona and her governess.

As the first canoe drew near to the dock, the don carefully scanned the faces of its occupants. Besides the four Indian paddlers it contained two white men-one a swarthy Venezuelan with a small, pointed mustache, the other a lean, bearded man wearing a pith helmet and khaki, who might be an American or an Englishman. In the second boat rode two more people with pith helmets and khaki clothing. One was a broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, athletic-looking fellow who appeared to be in his middle thirties; the other was a woman, somewhat younger and quite comely, whose curls glinted auburn in the reflected sunbeams that danced up from the river. The other four boats contained Indian paddlers and luggage.

The first canoe came up beside the dock. Its gunwale was seized by willing hands, steadied.

The don and dona were smiling and gracious now, masking their disappointment at not seeing Ramona, that they might welcome the strangers with fitting cordiality.

When the first two stood on the dock the bearded man took the initiative.

"I am Dr. Bracken, Don Fernando,' he said in Spanish.

"I am honored, senor," replied the don. "Doha Isabella, may I present Dr. Bracken?"

"An honor and a pleasure," murmured the doctor, when the dona had acknowledged the introduction. "May I present Captain Santos?

"My other companions speak very little Spanish," he added then. "Permit me to translate for you."

"Hardly necessary," smiled the don. "I'm a Harvard man, and the dona attended Lake Forest University. We first met in the States at a football game."

"Splendid!" replied the doctor. "Then the introductions will be in English."

And so they were. Dona Isabella and Mrs. Trevor soon found much in common, due to the former's residence in the Stales.

Suddenly there came a cry from an Indian at the end of the dock.

"More canoes coming!"

Don Fernando looked down the river. Two had rounded the bend. A third was just nosing into sight.

"Viva!" he cried. "Our boats!"

"It's our daughter, Ramona," explained Dana Isabella.

The first canoe came on swiftly, outdistancing the others. It glided toward the pier, propelled by the don's best paddlers, and steered by Ruiz himself, a big fellow with a snow-white mustache and goatee. He deftly guided it to the dock amid shouts of welcome: