Two Letters.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 35, 29 August 1891, Page 314

Two Letters.

•CONTINUED FROM LAST WELK. AND CONCLUDED IN THIS ISSUE.'

Bs

Brander Matthews.)

I. FROM THE GOTHAM GAZETTE OF APRIL ZU FROM AS OCCASIONAL CORRESr-OSDEXT.

Georgetown, Demer ara, April 1. I* STEAD looked over the eliff again. Not one of the White Indians was in sight. So ke knew he hal a good start. To stand st was Gt * av * te death. His one chance of life lay in reaching the bridge first. He set off at once at a rapid p-ace notwithstanding the heavy weight of treasure which lined his belt. If it were absolately necessary to save his life, he was

ready to abandon the gold, bat only under the most desperate circumstances did he intend to give it up. The pursuers meant to kill him and to get his precious burden : and Mr Stead was resolved to prevent, if he could, their doing either. Know ing that his enemies were now following him closely, he looked T>ack with every few steps he took. In the fear of a fatigue which might prevent his reaching his object, he dared not over exert himself, but he walked as fast as he thought wise. He rested himself now and again by breaking into a jog trot whenever the incline of the ground was not too abrupt. He had covered nearly tno-thirds of the distance from the brow of the hill to where he might hope to find the bridge when he caught the first glimpse of his pursuers ; the outline of a single man stood out against the horizon. He quickened his pace. When next he looked back there were four or five men gathered together in a little group about the tall chief. As his eyes were on them the chief waved one hand, and the warriors sprang forward in a brisk run. He had seen them, and he knew that they could see him. It was now a question of speed. If he conld get across the bridge safe and sound, it might be that he could hold it until nightfall should give him another chance of escape. If they should catch up to him on the open ground, or if there should not te any bridge at the spot where he hoped to find it, then all would be over ; his life would not be worth an hour’s purchase, however dearly he might sell it. Tire ground favoured him just then, and he dropped into a gentle run. Soon the declivity became too steep for so rapid a progress, and he fell back to a walk. Again he looked at his pursuers. The little group about the chief, not so compact now as when he had first seen it, had covered more than a quarter of the distance which had sepxarated them. And behind these were three other groups rushing toward him, stretching across the slope one after the other. Mr Stead set his teeth and strode forward. For five minutes he toiled steadily upward : as he neared his goal the ascent was steeper. When he could no longer resist the desire to see whether or not his enemies were gaining on him, he turned his head again. The chief and his followers were but a few hundred teet behind him—scarcely beyond bow-shot: and tailing out over the inclined p>lain were half a hundred more White Indians, all racing toward him. As they saw him looking at them they raised fierce yells of hatred. In ten yards more Mr Stead came out on the bnnk of the river, which rolled along in a deep gulf below, whence it sent out a cloud of spray from a thundering ataract, scarce a hundred feet before him the gulf was spanned by a slight swinging bridge.

Mr Stead saw it, and he gave a gasp of relief ; knowing there was now no more need to husband his strength, he rushed forward as fast as he could. When he came to the foot-path which led to the bridge he was still a hundred feet in advance of the nearest of his pursuers. He crossed the frail and vibrating structure as swiftly as he dared, though it trembled beneath his tread, and swung from side to side until it almost threw him off into the dark abyss below, where the river raged fiercely along. As he was toiling up the farther half of the bridge the White Indians arrived on the brink of the cliff behind him. They paused and two of them fitted arrows to their bows. <>ne of these missiles missed Mr Stead, the other struck him in the back of the waist, and broke off against the plates of gold which protected his person at that place. When he set foot on the firm land and faced about, three of nis foes were already on the bridge and crossing over. He stood still in the centre of the path and took deliberate aim and tired. The foremast Indian threw up his hands and fell sideways from the bridge. A second shot struck the next man in the right thigh, and he dropped back, vainly grasping, as he turned in the air, at the ropes which sup-ported the fragile pathway, and dropped down into the dark water which was roaring along the bottom of the chasm more than a hundred feet below. The third man had but just started on his perilous passage : when his two predecessors perished so suddenly, he hesitated for a second, then he sprang forward again. ’The chief stretched out bis arm and stayed the other White Indians as thev came up, waiting to see what might be the fate of tbe third man. Mr Stead held his fire until this man—a tall, handsome fellow—was within fifty feet of him. then he palled the trigger, and the pursuer, shot through the heart, sprang up into the air, and fell down into the gulf below, knotted into a convulsive ball. Then Mr Stead, seeing that there was no movement on the part of his enemies to attack again, reloadei bis revolver.

By this time nearly all the warriors bad assembled on the other side. Several of tbe late-comers were about to run forward on the bridge, but the tall chief called them bock. Suddenly a flight of arrows shot across the chasm, and fluttered down before Mr Stead's feet. He was jost out of range, but he thought it best to discourage any desire they might have to use him as a mark. Taking careful aim, he fired his revolver again, and the bullet broke the chief's arm. An awful yell arose at this, and for tbe

third time the chief had to restrain the impetuosity of his followers. Mr Stead could not but admire the reckless bravery of his foes, eager to sacrifice theii lives to avenge their leader.

For a few urinates there was a respite. While an old man carefully bondage*: the chief s wounded arm, the others gathered about them and raised a weird, irregular, pathetic chant, which seemed part of the ceremonial of cure. Mr Stead took advantage of the lull toconsifer the situation. So long as he eould bold tbe end of the bridge he was safe : they could advance across it only one at a tune, and their numbers were therefore of no advantage to them. Yet this security was but temporary ; be dared not abandon bis post, for his safety depended on his defending it. He was forced to remain where he was, and to make n<-attempt to proceed on his journey. His foes outnumbered him fifty to one. They eould tire him out and they could starve him out if they were willing to settle down to a siege. They might even separate, and while one detachment kept him at bay, the other might retrace its steps to the place where he shot the bird of ill omen, and where their canoes were ; then, crossing tbe river in these, they might come down and take him in the rear. This scheme seemed to have oceurrel to the chief at the very moment that it suggested itself to Mr Stead. Flom his commanding position the American saw the leader of the White Indians call a man forward and give him a series of orders, accompanied by gestures which Mr Stead found no difficulty in interpreting. When he had received his instructions the chosen leader of the detachment went among his comrades and picked out a dozen of them. These he drew np in line before the chief, who spoke a few words of advice, apparently, and of warning. When the chief, cease-1, his followers raised a shout of anticipatory triumph, shaking their weapons in tbe air, and casting looks of hatred against the single American. Then the designated group broke away from the main body and ran back on their own trail. In less than five minutes they were lost to sight. Mr Stead had no doubt as to the meaning of the departure of this detachment of his foes. He knew that in a definite time—probably four or five hoars—he would be oatilanked. With an enemy behind him, against whom he could have no protection, his doom would soon be sealed. He saw that if he wished to save his life, and to bear off the treasure which had been confided to him, and which he had bound himself to convey safely to its destination, he must do something, and he must do it quickly. His first thought was to pick off his opponentsone by one, as he had wounded tbe chief. But a moment's reflection showed the impossibility of this proceeding. There were still nearly twoscore White Indians at the other end of the bridge. By taking them unawares, he might hope to kill ten or a dozen. But what would this profit him ? The rest would hide themselves behind the rocks, and, securely undercover, they could then bide their time, exposing themselves only when their comrades might announce their arrival on his side of the river. And yet another reason deterred him. His stock of ammunition was limited ; he had barely a score more cartridges. To remain where he was would be impossible, and to retreat while his foes might at once cross the bridge after him was to invite an immediate death. His only hope of safety was so to bar their passage across the river that he might continue his journey without fear of their following him.

The bridge was of a kind uncommon in Guiana, but frequent enough in the passes in the Andes, where it was found when the soldiers of Pizarro first trod the soil of Peru. It is probably the most primitive form of the suspension bridge. It consists of two scout cables stretched across the valley in a p-endant arc. These cables are made of the pliant woody stems of climbing plants, twisted into bushropes,as they arecalled: and they are almost unbreakable by any strain likely to be put on them. These tough and flexible cables are fastened to huge rocks on each side of the gulf, running parallel with each other, less than a yard apart. They are floored with light planks laid across from cable to cable, and securely lashed by bands of mamurie, a finer cord made of osier withes or lianas. On each side of the main cables and a little above them is another slighter bush-rope, intended to serve as a hand rail for those who trust themselves on the fragile and oscillating bridge. Io block a delicate suspension-bridge like this so as to debar a passage across it would be impossible. But as Mr Stead, under the pressure of impending death, took stock of the situation and considered the matter in every light, he saw that it might not be impossible to destroy the bridge. Tough as were the huge cables of twisted vines, he believed that he could saw through them with the knife which every South- American traveller must needs carry. Unfortunately as he found, he could not do the work of destruction except in full sight of the beleaguering foe. On his side of the river a lip of rock thrusting well out into the valley had been chosen as the landing-place ; the two cables had been stretched tightly across, then they disappeared into the earth, being apparently made fast to subterranean stones.

Mr Stead made a most careful examination. His one chance of safety was to destroy the bridge, and the one place where this could best be done was at the very verge of the precipice from which it projected. In fact, to work to advantage, Mr Stead saw that he would have to bend forward over tbe yawning chasm. For this reason he removed his treasure-belt or jacket, laying it at his feet. He looked to his revolver, preparing a little pile of cartridges ready to his hand, wisely thinking that the White Indians would probably renew their attack as soon as they discovered what he was doing. He sharpened bis knife. Then he seated himself between tne two cables at the edge of the shelf of rock, and began the task of cutting them in two. He had lal-onred for several minutes before the White Indians took any notice of bis movements. Then one of them began to watch him suspiciously, and called the attention of tbe chief. In a minute they discovered what his object was. A wild shriek of rage arose, and two men seized their weapons and sprang forward along the bridge. Mr Stead shifted bis knife to his left hand and grasped his revolver. Tbe two White Indians came on as fast as their swinging foothold would allow. When they were within forty feet of bim he fired, and the first man fell back. He fired again, and the second man, tripping on bis comrade's body, which lay dead across tbe foot path, dropped down, turning spasmodically until he struck the water below, and was hurried out of sight. Mr Stead reloaded his revolver and resumed work. < Über White Indians hung back just at the entrance to

the bridge, doubting and undecided. The American kept his eye on them while he went on with his labours. The vegetable fibre of tbe bush rope was singularly resisting, and to cut it called for strength and skill and time. There was a hesitation among his adversaries which gave him opportunity almost to sever the cable at his right hand ; at least it was more than half cut through, when hi* knife broke, and the best part of the blade slipped into the abyss. At this moment be noticed an unusual movement among the White Indians. They had withdrawn a little to a clear space on one side, and there they had formed a ring around the chief. Chanting a wild but simple refrain, they circled about their wounded leader, who stood erect in the centre, beating time by striking the ground with a hollow bamboo staff he held in his an wounded band. Tee rude and monotonous song they sang resembled a dirge, wailing an-1 funereal : it was broken at regular intervals by discordant shouts.

With tbe stump of Lis knife still serviceable, Mr Stead was at work on the cable at his left ; but he never took his eyes from the enemy. He could not guess their purpose but be felt sure that it portended evil to him. ami that he must be more than ever on his guard. Suddenly there was a shout louder than tbe rest, and one of the M bite Indians broke from tbe ring and stood on one side. Then the same monotonous wailing began again : and in due season there was another loud shout, and a second man left the ring and took his place by the side of the first. A third time the rude chanting began, tbe chief beating on the ground with his bamboo staff, and after the same interval there was again a loud shout, and a third man took position with the other two. This proceeding puzzled Mr Stead, ani, without slacking his labour on tbe left hand cable, he bent his attention to tbe doings of his foes. Strange as was the rough chant, which soon began again for the fourth time, there seemed to the American something familiar in its rhythm. He bad no memory of having ever heard it before, jet it rang with a pulsation vagnelj' resembling something that bad fallen on his ears somewhere. For a while be could not place it. But as it concluded for the fourth time with a shout, and a fourth man stood aside, there came back to Mr Stead the echo of a foolish rhyme of his chiluhood, a jingle of gibberish, unmeaning, but useful, for it served to designate that one of bis boyish playfellows whose duty it should be to chase and touch the rest of them. Tuen, as the strange strain arose tfor the fifth time, the American knew what it was, and he saw its significance. It was a countingout rhyme, by which the followers of the tall chief were choosing men for a special purpose. Different as was the doggerel he had used in his boyhood from that which he heard now, there was the same marked regularity of beat, the same simple rhythm, and, above all, the same result, A fifth man took his position beside the others who had thus been chosen by chance. When the song ceased again, a sixth man stepped out of the ring and joined his five comrades. Mr Stead was working away steadily, and he had made a deep cut in the cable at his left, softer and more rotten than that on his right, so that his labour was not harder, though he now bad but tbe stump of a knife. After the six men had been selected the rhythmic chant ceased, and the ring was abandoned. The White Indian* gathered about the chief to receive his instructions. Then, and then only, did Mr Stead discover their intent. The chief knew that the revolver could fire only six shots without reloading. He had picked out six men to sacrifice themselves by drawing these six shots, after which the American would be defenceless. The rest would rush forward. The plan was simple, and it bid fair to succeed. Mr Stead worked on with desperate energy. Every second was precious to him. If they would delay their attack but five minutes longer, the bridge would be cut, and he would be secure from pursuit. But they did not delay a single minute. The six men stepped to the head of the bridge, and stood one behind the other, ready to advance. The chief came forward beside them and raised his hand. They fell on their knees, and he waved his staff above their heads, while the rest of the White Indians uttered a shrill cry, half defiant and half sorrowful. Then they arose and girded themselves for the certain death to which they were going. The others fell in line behind them, headed by the chief. Mr Stead saw that the moment had come. He rose to his feet to await the attack. A moment more and it eame. The chief gave the signal A yell of rage and hate broke from the throats of the 'White Indians, and the six doomed men set forward to cross the bridge, in single file, followed by the chief and the rest of their fellow-tribesmen. More accustomed to the oscillations of so frail a structure, their progress was far more rapid than Mr Stead’s was when he had been forced to run across the bridge with the enemy close behind him. When the first of the six had reached the body of a man who had been killed when Mr Stead began to cut the cable, the American fired, and the White Indian plunged forward head-first into the ch«sm. Then Mr Stead fired again, and the second man, reeling forward, grasped the corpse which lay across the bridge, and together the two—the dead and the dying—dropped headlong into the gulf below. A third shot, and a fourth shot, and a fifth shot, and three more of the assailants were swept from the bridge. At the sixth shot the revolver missed fire, and the last of the chosen six was within twenty feet of Mr Stead when, on tbe second attempt, the trigger did its duty and the bullet found its billet in the doomed man's heart. The six shots bad done their work, and the six men had done theirs. The seventh man —tbe chief himself—was not more than twenty-five feet distant when the last ball left the American's revolver. There was no time to load again. The best Mr Stead could do was to fight for hi* life man to man, at the bead of the bridge. He grasped the revolver by the barrel, and he stooped and with his left hand seized the stump of tbe knife. He thought that the seconds be had yet to live were counted, but he did not blanch ; and he looked death in tbe face and flinched not. But it was not to be. Fortune favours the brave. Though he had not had time to cut tbe cables wholly in two, he had weakened them so that they were unable to bear the strain of the whole band of White Indians. Tbe foremost was barely a yard from the end of the bridge when the left cable parted, and Mr Stead saw bis foes fall together into the dark river below. With a mighty effort tbe chief, who was at the head of the line, reached forward to clutch the solid earth. His band grasped the trea«ure belt, which had lain

at Mr g-t*"*’- feet through the fight, and it clasped this with the grip of desperation. In the sudden emotion of deliverance from death, Mr Stead was not prompt enough to this minor danger, and the chief of the White Indians bore with him to the bottom of the turbulent river the gold which the American had risked his life to save. To expect ever to recover it is hopeless. . There is no need to delay your readers with a detailed account of Mr Stead's return'to civilization. As soon as he was free from the danger of pursuit, he set out for the vilSage of friendly Indians, which be found, as he had expected, some fifteen miles further down the river. Here he trell received, and supplied with the means of continuing vjhile at this village he made inquiry for Austin, who baa basely deserted him in his hour of peril. To Mr Stead s great orief—although not at all to his surprise—he found that nothing had been heard of Austin. And as yet nothing has been beard of the fellow. It was nightfall when Austin thrnst loose from the bank and started alone on his voyage down the river. In his fright it is probable that he forgot the rapids before him until it was too late to turn back, or even to check hrs canoe. Barely a mile below the point where he abandoned Mr Stead, the river becomes narrow and the bank precipitous, and there is a succession of cataracts. It was above this gulch that Mr Stead fought for his life, and it was probably in this <mlch that Austin met his death by the wrecking of his canoe in the turmoil of waters. If once the wood skin had cot caught in the rush of the rapids, there would be no possible chance of escape for its solitary occupant. That this is what happened to Austin seems now beyond doubt, since no other explanation of bis disappearance is possible. Coward as the fellow was, it is sad to think of his dark and lonelv voyage to a certain and horrible death It was only the night before last that Mr Stead arrived here at t ieorgetown.' Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting him, and of hearing the full tale of his adventures from hj? own lips. In transcribing these for your readers I have passed the night It seems to me to be a duty which a man of letters owes his fellow-man to set forth simply and succinctly so brave a fight against terrible odds as that which Mr Stead has just fought. It is the study of a strong character like his, and of brave deeds like this, which restores our faith in our common humanity. I have thought it best also that the facts of this outrage on an American citizen should be laid before the people of the United States as soon as possible, that the State Department might be moved to take prompt action. This letter goes back to you by favour of Mr Joshua Hoffman, whose beautiful steam-yacht, the Rhadamanthus, is to sail for New York this afternoon. Mr Hoffman has been spending a fortnight in these waters ; he expresses himself as delighted with the scenery, and much benefited in health bv the rest he has obtained. ' I expect to sail for the Orinoco early next week, and you shall hear from me again at the very first opportunity. 11. FROM THE GOTHAM GAZETTE OF APRIL 22 Office of the Esseouibo Gold Comtaxy. 7a. Broadway. New York. April a. To the Editor of the Gotham Gazette i have read with interest the entertaining letter from an Occasional Correspondent which you have published this morning, and which purpcrts to give an account of an extraordinary outrage recently committed in British Guiana on an American named Stead by a tribe of hitherto unknown White Indians. 1 hate to have to spoil so sensational a story, but I see that there is a sort of to-l>e-continued-in our-next at the end of his letter, and I feel, therefore, that I am only anticipating the correction the Occasional Correspondent will be forced to make as soon as he knows what has happened since he wrote. Perhaps you will excuse me if 1 suggest that before writing he might have inquired more carefully as to the value of the information he leceived. What has happened since then is that the man Stead was arrested yesterday for theft and for attempted murder. The thing he' tried to steal was the gold entrusted to him to -convey from the mines to the c-.a-t. The man he tried to murder was his accomplice in the intended theft—Austin. When I inform you that Austin is in New York, that he has confessed folly his share in the robbery, and that he has accused Stead of an attempt to put him out of the way, it may occur to some of those who may have read the exciting letter of the Occasional Correspondent that he is a gentleman of an unduly confiding nature, and that he has inadvertently allowed himself to be used by a rascal. The exact facts of the matter are that Stead and Austin, being entrusted with the gold of the Essequibo Gold Company, conspired to steal it. When they had arrived near the' canon across which Stead claims to have fought sb brave a fight against such long odds, they dug a hole and buried the gold, Stead telling Austin that he would invent a tale of an attack by the White Indians, who exist inlccal superstition, but whom nobody has ever seen. That night thethieves fell out, and Stead set Austin adrift in a canoe without a paddle, knowing that there was a water-fall ahead, and hoping that his accomplice would be drowned. Apparently Austin is reserved for another fate ; his canoe sank on a rock in shallow water : he waded ashore, and was taken np by a l>and of friendly Indians, with whom he journeyed slowly to the coast. He arrived at Georgetown about Midnight, a few hours before the Rhadamanthus sailed. Going to a friend s house, he beard the story Stead had been telling, and in fear of his life he determined to !iy the country. This friend had done some trifling service for Mr Joshua Hoffman, and thus Austin succeeded in being taken aboard the Rhadamanthus without the knowledge of the people of Georgetown. There is a pleasant irony in the fact that the very yacht which bore away the Occasional Correspondent's account of Stead s single-handed combat with impossible White Indians over a non-existent bridge should convey also the one man who knew the whole truth. «in bis arrival here yesterday Austin came down to the office of the Essequibo Gold Company and surrendered himself. He made a clean breast of his share in the attempt to rob the company. We cabled at once to the Georgetown police. We learnt that Stead had been away in the interior or a week, and that he bad just returned. ' He was about

to take ship for England when he was arrested. The stolen gold was found in his possession. I have to apologise for this trespass on your space, but enemies of the Essequibo Gold Comptany try to use ghost stories like that of the Occasional Correspondent to depress the securities of the company, and as its president it is my duty to prevent this. Besides, just now lam a bull on the marker.—Your obedient servant, Samuel Sargent.