Chapter XXV--The Head-Hunters

by Jack London

　　The morning's action had been settled the night before. Tudor wasto stay behind in his banyan refuge and gather strength while theexpedition proceeded. On the far chance that they might rescueeven one solitary survivor of Tudor's party, Joan was fixed in herdetermination to push on; and neither Sheldon nor Tudor couldpersuade her to remain quietly at the banyan tree while Sheldonwent on and searched. With Tudor, Adamu Adam and Arahu were tostop as guards, the latter Tahitian being selected to remainbecause of a bad foot which had been brought about by stepping onone of the thorns concealed by the bushmen. It was evidently aslow poison, and not too strong, that the bushmen used, for thewounded Poonga-Poonga man was still alive, and though his swollenshoulder was enormous, the inflammation had already begun to godown. He, too, remained with Tudor.

　　Binu Charley led the way, by proxy, however, for, by means of thepoisoned spear, he drove the captive bushman ahead. The run-waystill ran through the dank and rotten jungle, and they knew novillages would be encountered till rising ground was gained. Theyplodded on, panting and sweating in the humid, stagnant air. Theywere immersed in a sea of wanton, prodigal vegetation. All aboutthem the huge-rooted trees blocked their footing, while coiled andknotted climbers, of the girth of a man's arm, were thrown fromlofty branch to lofty branch, or hung in tangled masses like somany monstrous snakes. Lush-stalked plants, larger-leaved than thebody of a man, exuded a sweaty moisture from all their surfaces.Here and there, banyan trees, like rocky islands, shouldered asidethe streaming riot of vegetation between their crowded columns,showing portals and passages wherein all daylight was lost and onlymidnight gloom remained. Tree-ferns and mosses and a myriad otherparasitic forms jostled with gay-coloured fungoid growths for roomto live, and the very atmosphere itself seemed to afford clingingspace to airy fairy creepers, light and delicate as gem-dust,tremulous with microscopic blooms. Pale-golden and vermilionorchids flaunted their unhealthy blossoms in the golden, drippingsunshine that filtered through the matted roof. It was themysterious, evil forest, a charnel house of silence, wherein naughtmoved save strange tiny birds--the strangeness of them making themystery more profound, for they flitted on noiseless wings,emitting neither song nor chirp, and they were mottled with morbidcolours, having all the seeming of orchids, flying blossoms ofsickness and decay.

　　He was caught by surprise, fifteen feet in the air above the path,in the forks of a many-branched tree. All saw him as he droppedlike a shadow, naked as on his natal morn, landing springily on hisbent knees, and like a shadow leaping along the run-way. It washard for them to realize that it was a man, for he seemed a weirdjungle spirit, a goblin of the forest. Only Binu Charley was notperturbed. He flung his poisoned spear over the head of thecaptive at the flitting form. It was a mighty cast, well intended,but the shadow, leaping, received the spear harmlessly between thelegs, and, tripping upon it, was flung sprawling. Before he couldget away, Binu Charley was upon him, clutching him by his snow-white hair. He was only a young man, and a dandy at that, his faceblackened with charcoal, his hair whitened with wood-ashes, withthe freshly severed tail of a wild pig thrust through hisperforated nose, and two more thrust through his ears. His onlyother ornament was a necklace of human finger-bones. At sight oftheir other prisoner he chattered in a high querulous falsetto,with puckered brows and troubled, wild-animal eyes. He wasdisposed of along the middle of the line, one of the Poonga-Poongamen leading him at the end of a length of bark-rope.

　　The trail began to rise out of the jungle, dipping at times intofestering hollows of unwholesome vegetation, but rising more andmore over swelling, unseen hill-slopes or climbing steep hog-backsand rocky hummocks where the forest thinned and blue patches of skyappeared overhead.

　　"Close up he stop," Binu Charley warned them in a whisper.

　　Even as he spoke, from high overhead came the deep resonant boom ofa village drum. But the beat was slow, there was no panic in thesound. They were directly beneath the village, and they could hearthe crowing of roosters, two women's voices raised in briefdispute, and, once, the crying of a child. The run-way now becamea deeply worn path, rising so steeply that several times the partypaused for breath. The path never widened, and in places the feetand the rains of generations had scoured it till it was sunkentwenty feet beneath the surface.

　　"One man with a rifle could hold it against a thousand," Sheldonwhispered to Joan. "And twenty men could hold it with spears andarrows."

　　They came out on the village, situated on a small, upland plateau,grass-covered, and with only occasional trees. There was a wildchorus of warning cries from the women, who scurried out of thegrass houses, and like frightened quail dived over the oppositeedge of the clearing, gathering up their babies and children asthey ran. At the same time spears and arrows began to fall amongthe invaders. At Sheldon's command, the Tahitians and Poonga-Poonga men got into action with their rifles. The spears andarrows ceased, the last bushman disappeared, and the fight was overalmost as soon as it had begun. On their own side no one had beenhurt, while half a dozen bushmen had been killed. These aloneremained, the wounded having been carried off. The Tahitians andPoonga-Poonga men had warmed up and were for pursuit, but thisSheldon would not permit. To his pleased surprise, Joan backed himup in the decision; for, glancing at her once during the firing, hehad seen her white face, like a glittering sword in its fightingintensity, the nostrils dilated, the eyes bright and steady andshining.

　　"Poor brutes," she said. "They act only according to theirnatures. To eat their kind and take heads is good morality forthem."

　　"But they should be taught not to take white men's heads," Sheldonargued.

　　She nodded approval, and said, "If we find one head we'll burn thevillage. Hey, you, Charley! What fella place head he stop?"

　　"S'pose he stop along devil-devil house," was the answer. "Thatbig fella house, he devil-devil."

　　It was the largest house in the village, ambitiously ornamentedwith fancy-plaited mats and king-posts carved into obscene andmonstrous forms half-human and half-animal. Into it they went, inthe obscure light stumbling across the sleeping-logs of the villagebachelors and knocking their heads against strings of weird votive-offerings, dried and shrivelled, that hung from the roof-beams. Oneither side were rude gods, some grotesquely carved, others no morethan shapeless logs swathed in rotten and indescribably filthymatting. The air was mouldy and heavy with decay, while strings offish-tails and of half-cleaned dog and crocodile skulls did not addto the wholesomeness of the place.

　　In the centre, crouched before a slow-smoking fire, in the litteredashes of a thousand fires, was an old man who blinked apatheticallyat the invaders. He was extremely old--so old that his witheredskin hung about him in loose folds and did not look like skin. Hishands were bony claws, his emaciated face a sheer death's-head.His task, it seemed, was to tend the fire, and while he blinked atthem he added to it a handful of dead and mouldy wood. And hung inthe smoke they found the object of their search. Joan turned andstumbled out hastily, deathly sick, reeling into the sunshine andclutching at the air for support.

　　"See if all are there," she called back faintly, and totteredaimlessly on for a few steps, breathing the air in great draughtsand trying to forget the sight she had seen.

　　Upon Sheldon fell the unpleasant task of tallying the heads. Theywere all there, nine of them, white men's heads, the faces of whichhe had been familiar with when their owners had camped in Berandecompound and set up the poling-boats. Binu Charley, hugelyinterested, lent a hand, turning the heads around foridentification, noting the hatchet-strokes, and remarking thedistorted expressions. The Poonga-Poonga men gloated as usual, andas usual the Tahitians were shocked and angry, several of themcursing and muttering in undertones. So angry was Matapuu, that hestrode suddenly over to the fire-tender and kicked him in the ribs,whereupon the old savage emitted an appalling squeal, pig-like inits wild-animal fear, and fell face downward in the ashes and layquivering in momentary expectation of death.

　　Other heads, thoroughly sun-dried and smoke-cured, were found inabundance, but, with two exceptions, they were the heads of blacks.So this was the manner of hunting that went on in the dark and evilforest, Sheldon thought, as he regarded them. The atmosphere ofthe place was sickening, yet he could not forbear to pause beforeone of Binu Charley's finds.

　　"Me savvee black Mary, me savvee white Mary," quoth Binu Charley."Me no savvee that fella Mary. What name belong him?"

　　Sheldon looked. Ancient and withered, blackened by many years ofthe smoke of the devil-devil house, nevertheless the shrunken,mummy-like face was unmistakably Chinese. How it had come therewas the mystery. It was a woman's head, and he had never heard ofa Chinese woman in the history of the Solomons. From the ears hungtwo-inch-long ear-rings, and at Sheldon's direction the Binu manrubbed away the accretions of smoke and dirt, and from under hisfingers appeared the polished green of jade, the sheen of pearl,and the warm red of Oriental gold. The other head, equallyancient, was a white man's, as the heavy blond moustache, twistedand askew on the shrivelled upper lip, gave sufficientadvertisement; and Sheldon wondered what forgotten beche-de-merfisherman or sandalwood trader had gone to furnish that ghastlytrophy.

　　Telling Binu Charley to remove the ear-rings, and directing thePoonga-Poonga men to carry out the old fire-tender, Sheldon clearedthe devil-devil house and set fire to it. Soon every house wasblazing merrily, while the ancient fire-tender sat upright in thesunshine blinking at the destruction of his village. From theheights above, where were evidently other villages, came thebooming of drums and a wild blowing of war-conchs; but Sheldon haddared all he cared to with his small following. Besides, hismission was accomplished. Every member of Tudor's expedition wasaccounted for; and it was a long, dark way out of the head-hunters'country. Releasing their two prisoners, who leaped away likestartled deer, they plunged down the steep path into the steamingjungle.

　　Joan, still shocked by what she had seen, walked on in front ofSheldon, subdued and silent. At the end of half an hour she turnedto him with a wan smile and said, -

　　"I don't think I care to visit the head-hunters any more. It'sadventure, I know; but there is such a thing as having too much ofa good thing. Riding around the plantation will henceforth be goodenough for me, or perhaps salving another Martha; but the bushmenof Guadalcanar need never worry for fear that I shall visit themagain. I shall have nightmares for months to come, I know I shall.Ugh!--the horrid beasts!"

　　That night found them back in camp with Tudor, who, while improved,would still have to be carried down on a stretcher. The swellingof the Poonga-Poonga man's shoulder was going down slowly, butArahu still limped on his thorn-poisoned foot.

　　Two days later they rejoined the boats at Carli; and at high noonof the third day, travelling with the current and shooting therapids, the expedition arrived at Berande. Joan, with a sigh,unbuckled her revolver-belt and hung it on the nail in the living-room, while Sheldon, who had been lurking about for the sheer joyof seeing her perform that particular home-coming act, sighed, too,with satisfaction. But the home-coming was not all joy to him, forJoan set about nursing Tudor, and spent much time on the verandawhere he lay in the hammock under the mosquito-netting.