Jan of the Jungle (17 page)

"The inscriptions on the basket could not be read by any of the Indians we asked, although for some reason the Indians always seemed to regard them with superstitious awe.

"About a year later Sir Henry Westgate, the English archaeologist and explorer, stopped here on his way into the jungle. He told us he sought traces of colonists from an ancient civilization that had once existed on a vast continent in the Pacific.

"My husband showed him this basket, told him where and how he had found it, and asked if he could decipher the writing on it. Sir Henry's expression when he-saw that basket reminded me of Galahad, finding the Holy Grail. He said that it was a historical discovery of vast importance, and that if the people who had set it adrift could be located, the riddle of the lost continents of Mu, Atlantis and Lemuria and the origins of all ancient civilizations and cultures could be solved. Here is his translation."

From the bottom of the basket she took a sheet of paper, and read aloud:

"'To thee, mighty Hepr, Great God of the Waters, enthroned in eternal power and glory upon the coils of the great serpent, between thy sentinels the twin mountains Qer-Hapi and Mu-Hapi, Samsu, humble slave of thy beloved son, Set, consigneth this daughter of Re, that thou mayest deal with her in thy great wisdom according to thy omnipotent will so powerful that went thou to relax it for but an instant, the gods would fall down headlong and all men would perish.'"

"What can it mean?" asked Georgia Trevor, tensely.

"According to Sir Henry," replied the dona, "it means that a certain Samsu, High Priest of Set, or Saturn, for some reason set the child adrift upon the water, hoping that she would meet her death. She may have been his own child, or she may have been the daughter of some other powerful man. The statement that she is a daughter of Re shows that she is a royal princess, or daughter of the sun. For the safety of his soul even though he desired her death, the High Priest dared not slay a royal personage himself. So I suppose he managed to put the blame on Hepr, God of Waters, by consigning her to the river in a basket that would float.

"In the palm of the baby's right hand was tattooed an open lotus, the sacred flower of Mu. This proved beyond all doubt that Ramona was a princess of the blood imperial, Sir Henry said. If he is correct, Ramona's ancestors were ruling a mighty civilization while our Cro-Magnon forbears in Europe were living in caves and wearing animal skins.

"The remains of every civilization of the past, Sir Henry told us, show the cultural influence of Mu, the mother continent. Her ships carried adventurers to all parts of the earth, where they established colonies ruled by the viceroys of the motherland. But Mu, along with Lemuria was broken up by a great earthquake, and sank into the ocean.

"An expedition had set out from the motherland on a good-will tour of Mu's colonies, led by the Crown Prince, with a retinue of ten thousand men and women from all walks of life.

"While he was in Egypt the prince received word of the destruction of the motherland. He set sail for Atlantis, but in a terrific storm many of his ships were lost. Of his own flagship nothing was ever heard.

"Sir Henry was convinced that the prince and a band of his followers had landed somewhere on the coast of South America. The sight of Ramona's basket convinced him that he was on the right trail, and that if he would follow this river and all of its branches to their sources, he would be sure to find the descendants of the people of Mu. With this intention be led an expedition into the jungle some sixteen years ago. Since then no word has come from him. Probably he and his men were killed by savages."

Standing in the patio beneath the tiny balcony that jutted out from the dona's boudoir, Ramona waited for Jan. She had waited there every day of her vacation, but now, the last day, hope had fled.

A humming bird with iridescent plumage shot past Ramona's head as she sat beneath the trysting tree, and lighted on a bush, beneath the dona's window. She put down her book and followed it, to watch it at close range while it sipped the nectar from the flowers.

Above the pixie drone of the midget flyer's wings, she suddenly heard her supposed mother say: "Ramona is not our daughter." Shocked, she had remained to listen, and had heard the whole story.

Ramona turned away from the window with eyes brimming, stunned to, learn that she was not a Suarez and that the don and dona, whom she had loved as her father and mother, had merely taken her in, a foundling. Her real parents, it seemed, had not wanted her-had even desired her death. Otherwise they would not have set her adrift on the river where the chances were a hundred to one that she would perish.

As she walked down the path toward her tree, an Indian entered the patio. He glanced cautiously about as if fearful of being seen, then came toward her. Bowing low, he handed the girl a folded slip of paper.

"Jan send you this," he said softly, with a wary glance in the direction of the snoring duenna. "I wait for you outside gate."

With' trembling, eager fingers, Ramona unfolded the little missive, while the Indian slunk away. She instantly recognized the large, crudely made capital letters of Jan's writing.

RAMONA: I AM BADLY HURT. WANT TO SEE YOU. THE INDIAN WILL SHOW THE WAY. WILL YOU COME? JAN.

Would she go? She had promised her father that she would never leave the patio, unguarded. No, not her father. Don Fernando had deceived her about that, as had the dona. Yet a promise was a promise, for all that, and she had never broken her word.

For a moment she stood there, a prey to conflicting emotions. But only for a moment. This was an emergency. Jan was wounded-perhaps dying. And he wanted to see her--needed her. That was enough. Promise or no promise, she must go.

As she passed the arbor, the corpulent Senora Soledade stirred uneasily, ceased her snoring for a moment, and seemed about to awaken. Ramona ran forward on tiptoes and quietly opened the gate. Stepping through she closed it soundlessly. Over among the young rubber trees the Indian stood with folded arms, waiting.

When he saw her coming, the savage started off toward the jungle. Once in its depths, he stopped until she came up.

"How far?" she asked.

"Only a little way," he answered. "I show you, quick."

At first he led her straight south, but presently he began turning toward the southeast. As they penetrated deeper and deeper into the jungle, Ramona began to grow apprehensive. She recalled that Jan had told her all Indians were his enemies. If this were the case, she wondered how it would be possible for him to employ an Indian as a messenger.

Then, to add to her fears, she began to hear sounds behind her, as if someone or something were dogging her footsteps. She ran up close to her guide-touched him on the shoulder.

"Something is following us," she said. "I heard it. It may be a puma or a jaguar. I'm afraid."

"I go look," said the savage, and walked back for a little way. Returning presently, he said: "Nothing follow. No be 'fraid."

He proceeded as before, but it was not long until the girl heard a twig snap behind her. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, then screamed at the top of her voice as she saw a strange savage coming stealthily toward her, carrying a small coil of rope. Like a charging panther, the native sprang forward. She turned to run, but the Indian who had lured her into the jungle stopped her before she was fairly started. Then despite her cries and struggles, he held her while the other bound her hands and gagged her.

Then someone other than Jan had written the note! But who? And how could any one imitate his lettering so well?

Suddenly they came to a tiny clearing, walled in on all sides by tangled, matted vegetation. In the middle of the clearing was a small, newly built hut.

Standing in front of the hut, smoking a cigarette, was Captain Santos, a grin of triumph on his dark features. He dropped the butt, ground it beneath his heel, and slowly exhaled the blue-white smoke through his nostrils as the two Indians came up with their beautiful young captive.

"Unbind her," he commanded in Spanish.

While they loosed the bonds that held her wrists, the captain removed her gag.

"Now go! Vamos! Get the supplies from the hacienda and hurry back to camp. I'll see you there-later."

Ramona faced him bravely, trying to hide the horrible fear that clutched at her heart.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain Santos?" she demanded. "Where is Jan?"

"Jan," he replied, brutally seizing her wrists, "is dead. And since you ask, it means, my little one, that you are mine."

She tried to pull away, but the powerful fingers held her like steel bands. She kicked, bit and screamed, but Santos only laughed.

"Cry out all you like," he said. "It will amuse the monkeys and parrots." Then he dragged her into the dark interior of the hut.

WHEN JAN became conscious after his fall from the tree, he was lying on a smooth stone floor. He sat up, and numerous twinges of pain shot through the muscles of his back.

Then he remembered his leap from the balcony of the Imperial Palace, the broken tree limb, and the crash that brought oblivion.

He got to his feet unsteadily and looked about. He was in a narrow cell, on all sides of which were stout iron bars. The air was heavy with the odors of sweating men and animals. In a cell on his right was a hairy man-monster like the ones that had attacked him when he first entered the valley. This husky creature was squatting in a corner, busily scratching himself. Jan could see other hairy monsters squatting in the cells beyond.

In the cell on Jan's left still another form paced back and forth. There were a few scattered patches of hair on his body, but the rest was quite naked and as white as Jan's own skin. His beard and the hair on his head were much longer than those of the hairy-bodied creatures at the right, both hanging below his waist, and were dark brown, streaked with gray. He stood more erect than these others, and was not nearly so heavy or muscular.

There were two doors to each cell. One led to a passageway in the rear, and the other to a circular arena of white sand about an eighth of a mile in diameter. Looking across this arena, and to the right and left, Jan could see hundreds of other cells. Those nearest him housed yellow men, white men, and hairy men. But in those farther away were caged many strange and terrible-looking creatures. Some, such as the saber-toothed tigers, cave bears and hyaenodons were familiar to him. But there were many others-giant beasts, birds, and reptiles-he had never seen or heard of before.

Presently a great commotion started among the men, beast-men, and beasts. Amid a deafening medley of roars, growls, shrieks, shouts and howls came a sound of clanging gates. Then Jan saw the reason. It was feeding time.

He could see the attendants coming along the passageway. One would move a lever, raising a gate a little way, while the other pushed food beneath it. Then the gate would clang back into place and the two would move on to the next cage while a third, following them, filled the water pans.

Like the beast-men on one side of him and the wild-looking white man on the other, Jan was fed raw meat. He was hungry, and seized it eagerly. It proved to be the flesh of some creature unfamiliar to him, but quite palatable and satisfying. After eating he drank, and lay down on his belly to ease his bruised and aching back. With his head cradled in his arms, he soon fell asleep.

Some time later he awakened with a start. Something was prodding his shoulder. It was the end of a long pole thrust through the bars by a white man who wore a yellow tunic and sandals. He withdrew the pole as Jan scrambled to his feet and faced him.

"Do you speak the language of men, wild one?" he asked.

"When it pleases me," replied Jan defiantly.

The fellow grinned.

"It will do you no good to be surly with me," he said. "I am only here to help you. The games will start soon, and if you have the intelligence to listen and heed, so much the better for you."

"The games!" exclaimed Jan.

Then he remembered what Koh had said. If they were captured they would probably be sentenced to the games-to battle in the arena with men and monsters, usually against great odds. "Is Prince Koh here?" he asked.

"The prince is in the section with the other prisoners from Temukan," was the reply. "But heed me now, for I may not spend much time with you." He unrolled a scroll and glanced at it.

"You have been sentenced to stand trial by combat, first with a man, second with a bird, and third with a beast. If you kill the man, that will of course save your life. But if you subdue him without killing him, he will become your slave. If you kill or overcome the bird, you will have the right to ask and be granted a boon by the Emperor. And if you overcome or kill the beast, you will be granted your life and freedom.

"In case you won all three fights, which has never been done, you would go and stand before the golden pavilion in the south, where the Emperor and Empress will be enthroned. You would raise your hand in salute, thus"-raising his right hand with the palm forward-"whereupon the Emperor would give you your freedom."

Examining the scroll once more, the man passed on to the next cage-the one occupied by the bearded white savage.

"What about you, wild one? Can you talk?" he asked.

The bearded man looked at him blankly. Then he began a series of guttural grunts and barks very much like the language of the chimpanzees.

"Ha! So you speak like the hairy ones. Well, no man can understand such noises, so I cannot instruct you."

"I can tell you what he says," volunteered Jan. "He asks what you want. Shall I interpret for you?"

"No use," said the yellow-clad one. "He would not have the intelligence to understand."

As the sun approached noon, the attitude of the multitude of spectators in the amphitheater grew tense. Already Samsu, High Priest of Set, had taken his place on the north. He was surrounded by his black-clothed nobles with their ladies, black-armored guards, and black-robed priests.