Their process was crude; it consisted merely in spitting a raw piece of meat on a stick and thrusting it into the blaze, or the coals, according to the fancy of the chef in question. When this meat began to burn, the hungry Link blew it, to cool it a trifle, bit out the smoked and barely heated spot, and ate it greedily, the while he or she thrust the remaining piece in the heat for another bit of roasting.
The interest in myself had in no wise abated. The majority of the Links who had not been of the discovering party, having thrown aside their clubs, surrounded me still and placed their inquisitive hands on my shoes and clothing. My knife was a source of awe and wonder. Its bloody handle only was visible, yet scores of those who had not been present at the fight listened with manifest amazement to what I knew to be primitive tales of my prowess, and to explanations of the uses to which I put the weapon. Even the children, the greater part of whom were as shy as little foxes, gave over their play to stand behind the trees and behind their elders, from which places of safety they peered at me with shifty, bright eyes. One little monkey-like chap gave no heed to anything but a noise he was making by clattering several small empty sea-shells together with all his power and possible speed.
I missed my comical Link, whom I had mentally nicknamed “Fatty.” He now appeared with an armful of fruits, and laid them down at my feet. There were cocoa-nuts, a melon (papaw), mangoes and other things of which I never learned the names. Being exceedingly hungry I assailed these refreshments with vigour, to the intense delight of all. Fatty disappeared again, returning soon with a bird, half plucked, ungutted and warm. He stabbed it on a stick, borrowed some fire and gave me the morsel to cook to my liking.
Without thinking, I glanced about for a pot or a skillet. In a second I realized the hopelessness of the situation. The incident served to set me thinking. I was lost in a land of which I knew nothing; I was safe, apparently, in the company of a tribe of Missing Links; I might not be able to escape from the place very soon and therefore I must rely upon myself, if I were to have anything like comforts, either of food or shelter. It was a situation to be pondered, carefully. It would certainly be folly to attempt to leave these creatures, with whom perhaps I might be able to exist for a time, without first acquiring a knowledge as to where lay the sea-coast. I should not only be lost in the jungle at once, if I started away, but I should doubtless be an immediate prey to prowling brutes. Yet already I began to feel as if I had stayed there too long and as if I ought to be starting for “home,” or back to a land peopled by human beings. I could not imagine myself accepting the company of these creatures seriously, nor of remaining long where they were.
The present moment, however, was the most immediately important. I was too hungry to be appeased by fruits alone, but I felt no desire to eat scorched bird. As I looked about, a novel idea was suggested to my brain. Striding forward I picked up a fine large shell—which had doubtless once been occupied by something like a giant escallop—near the small ones with which the baby Link was playing. This I washed out at a near-by spring, and filled with water. Then I placed it on the ground and propping it up with stones, conveyed some fire beneath it, to heat the water. The bird was speedily prepared, and cut into bits, after which I held out my hand for more.
The Links had all abandoned their several pursuits to crowd about. They were eager to see what would happen. Fatty was inordinately tickled. He ran clumsily off, with others, and brought me three more birds and the meat of some small animal, already in the larder. I was not at all sure that my shell would do for a kettle, as I feared the heat would make it crack or scale off in pieces. It did crackle, as if about to split, but the water soon began to sizzle at the edges and was nicely boiling by the time I was ready. All my meat went in, and then I longed for a few potatoes and a bit of salt. However, I was gratified exceedingly by the whiffs of steam which floated away, and I thought of numerous things which I must soon devise.
Before my dinner was sufficiently done, I speared out pieces and found them good, especially the birds. Then to Fatty and also to the chief—who with his albino mate had watched proceedings with flattering attention—I gave pieces of the meat to try. The exclamations had been numerous when the water boiled; the Links were silent now until the leader had tasted and uttered a doubtful verdict, when grunts, eager questions and sounds of peculiar laughter ensued. Bits of boiled dinner were sought by many of the bolder fellows, after which I was obliged to laugh myself, for a dozen new fires were started and over each a Link or two prepared a piece of meat—in their usual manner. Evidently stew was not to their taste.
CHAPTER IV
A RECONNOITRE
Whether the fruit I had eaten produced a soporific effect, or whether I was physically exhausted by my recent experience in the balloon and the subsequent events, is more than I know, but in the heat of that day, in the camp of the Links, I grew so drowsy that sleep was not to be resisted. For at least forty-eight hours and perhaps for sixty, or more, I had not so much as taken off my shoes. Feeling confident of the friendly attitude of the tribe of creatures, I finally removed nearly all of my clothing, made a bed in the shade of a tree and sank at once into dreamless slumber. The last thing I remembered was that Fatty had taken up a position near by, much as a faithful dog might do, to watch against intrusion. Necessarily my every movement had been observed by a large and appreciative audience of Links.
In the late afternoon I awoke, amazingly refreshed. Such a chattering and game of chase was in progress that I sat up abruptly. Every stitch of the clothing with which I had covered myself, had disappeared. In a moment I beheld it, then, in fragments. The male Links—all but Fatty—had gone off on some expedition, but the females were there in force and these had appropriated coat, vest, trousers and shoes. My trousers were occupied by two different “ladies,” one of whom had a half, pulled wrong side out. She wore it jauntily on her arm, while the other had both her feet inside the other portion, and was consequently falling down at every movement, thereby furnishing no end of enthusiasm in her efforts at marching on dress-parade. My vest had become a breech-clout, ripped up the back. Evidently instinct suggests robing the legs, for my coat was employed in this manner by a female of peculiarly thin proportions. Her inordinate vanity, begotten of the attention she attracted, was quite human, as also was the savage jealousy of other females who made ineffectual efforts to rip the article off for themselves.