CHAPTER XIII
THE NIGHT IN THE JUNGLE
It seemed as if I had been in the tree for an age when the sun finally sank behind the hill. For long the twilight had been dim in the jungle, and creepers and shadows made a picture of grotesque forms, wrapped about and hung as if with serpents, like a weird conception by Doré. There was rarely a sound. It seemed like the hour when the day-creatures crept stealthily home to caves and covers, afraid they were already too late and sure to be overtaken by the prowlers of the darkness.
Once I had a fearful up-welling of excitement suddenly flood my being and make my heart to thump heavily. An armadillo came trotting quietly into the open space below me. The movement was what caught my glance, and for the second I thought only of the tiger. Then the little animal sniffed that gory object and darted instantly away.
The darkness increased. Some early complainer howled out a dismal note. Now and then there came a rustling sound from the trees or vines. An hour after the darkness became complete, I heard a pounce, a struggle, the quiet moan-cry of something which gave up its life, and it made a chill go down my back and spread through my nerves. Sounds of birds in the air and forest—inhabitants hiding in the trees, came occasionally, now, with surprising distinctness. All of this kept me in a high state of tension. I wished myself anywhere on earth other than where I was. I confess the woods at night, where merely bears and owls were at large, had awed me earlier in life, and this jungle, alive with poisonous reptiles and blood-hungry animals, terrified me beyond expression. If I had only had a companion, if there had even been another man awaiting my return—somebody to talk to, somebody to think about rejoining, or even a soul who would dare to hunt for my body if I never returned,—it would have been a little comforting at least.
I managed, with an effort, to pull myself together a trifle, by thinking that it was now too late to meditate retreat. I would not have climbed down from my tree and attempted to find my way out of the darksome forest—taking the chances of starting wrong and getting lost—for the price of a mine of diamonds. Thus the hours went by and a score of things kept me startled constantly. I feared the tiger would fail to come; then I feared he would arrive at any second.
It seemed to me that midnight must have come and gone ages since. Suddenly my breath came fast, my whole body was rigid with attention as I noted a dim form, apparently standing in the tangle, directly across the clearing. I knew I had become pale; I knew I trembled with agitation. I was cold and my teeth did their best to chatter, as I watched to see if the form moved.
There were ample sounds about me, some slight, some heavy, but I think I paid little heed to anything except that dim, uncertain form. Then I was sure it moved. While I was still at the height of my excitement I noted a leaf, which became clearly defined. I knew immediately that the form was merely a patch of half light, cast through the foliage by the moon.
The excitement subsided as if I had pulled out a plug and let it run away. And while it was going, I heard a wet lapping and chewing, beneath me, which told me instantly that the man-eater was below and dining at his cold and ghastly feast. He had come—unseen and unheard,—while I was being frightened at a patch of light!
I looked, but so dark was the place that until the monster moved around I thought his body was exactly on the opposite side of his victim, to which it really was. The excitement had flushed upward in my veins again, but not so strongly as before. I was angered, as I have often been to hear a cat lapping at the meat in a cupboard.
Moving cautiously on the branch, I half stood, half leaned against my seat and slowly brought my bow into position. I was stiff in my hands and joints, from sitting so long in one position. Having made a slight slip and noise, the flood of nervousness leapt upward in me at once; I perspired coldly; my heart beat a violent measure; in my mouth the saliva became like gluey cotton. But the beast below kept on chewing, with a horrible noise of drooling chops. I dared not try at him yet, both because my hands were too unsteady and because the brute was too undefined an object to be seen.