CHAPTER XIV
IN DIRE PERIL
A small launch had been provided for the use of Blake and Joe ingoing into the jungle, the first part of their trip being alongthe Chagres River. The tug on which they had come thus far was notsuitable.
Accordingly they had transferred what baggage they needed to thelaunch, and with their moving picture cameras, with shelter tents,food, supplies and some West Indian negroes as helpers, they wereprepared to enjoy life as much as possible in the jungle of theIsthmus.
"You boys don't seem to mind what you do to get pictures,"commented Mr. Alcando, as they sat in the launch, going up thestream, the existence of which made possible Gatun Lake.
"No, you get so you'll do almost anything to get a good film,"agreed Blake.
"This is easy compared to some of the things we've done," Joeremarked. "You'll become just as fascinated with it as we are, Mr.Alcando."
"I hope so," he admitted, "for I will have to penetrate into amuch wilder jungle than this if I take the views our companywants. Perhaps I can induce you to come to South America and makefilms for us in case I can't do it," he concluded.
"Well, we're in the business," remarked Blake with a smile. "Butyou'll get so you can take for yourself just as good pictures aswe can."
"Do you really think so?" asked the Spaniard, eagerly.
"I'm sure of it," Blake said.
The little suspicions both he and Joe had entertained of theircompanion seemed to have vanished. Certainly he neither did norsaid anything that could be construed as dangerous. He was apolished gentleman, and seemed to regard the boys as his greatfriends. He often referred to the runaway accident.
As for the odd, ticking box, it seemed to have been put carefullyaway, for neither Blake nor Joe saw it, nor had they heard theclick of it when they went near Mr. Alcando's possessions.
The first night in the jungle was spent aboard the boat. It waspleasant enough, mosquito canopies keeping away the pests that aresaid to cause malaria and yellow fever, among other things. But,thanks to the activities of the American sanitary engineers themosquitoes are greatly lessened in the canal zone.
"And now for some real jungle life!" cried Blake the next day, asthe little party set off into the forest, a group of laborers withmachetes going ahead to clear the way.
For several miles nothing worth "filming" was seen, and Blake andJoe were beginning to feel that perhaps they had had their troublefor nothing. Now and then they came to little clearings in thethick jungle, where a native had chopped down the brush and treesto make a place for his palm-thatched and mud-floored hut. A fewof them clustered about formed a village. Life was very simple inthe jungle of Panama.
"Oh, Blake, look!" suddenly cried Joe, as they were walking alonga native path. "What queer insects. They are like leaves."
The boys and Mr. Alcando saw what seemed to be a procession ofgreen leaves making its way through the jungle.
"Those are real leaves the ants carry," explained the guide, whospoke very good English. "They are called leaf-cutting ants, andeach one of them is really carrying a leaf he has cut from sometree."
On closer inspection the boys saw that this was so. Each antcarried on its back a triangular leaf, and the odd part, or,rather, one of the odd features, was that the leaf was carriedwith the thin edge forward, so it would not blow in the wind.
"What do they do with 'em?" asked Joe. "Eat 'em, or make houses of'em?"
"Neither," replied the guide. "The ants put the leaves away untilthey are covered with a fungus growth. It is this fungus that theants eat, and when it has all been taken from the leaves they arebrought out of the ant homes, and a fresh lot of leaves arebrought in. These ants are bringing in a fresh lot now, you see."
"How odd!" exclaimed Blake. "We must get a picture of this, Joe."
"We sure must!" agreed his chum.
"But how can you take moving pictures of such small things asants?" asked Mr. Alcando.
"We'll put on an enlarging lens, and get the camera close tothem," explained Blake, who had had experience in taking severalfilms of this sort for the use of schools and colleges.
A halt was called while the camera was made ready, and then, asthe ants went on in their queer procession, carrying the leaveswhich looked like green sails over their backs, the film clickedon in its indelible impression of them, for the delight ofaudiences who might see them on the screen, in moving picturetheaters from Maine to California.
"Well, that was worth getting," said Blake, as they put away thecamera, and went on again. "I wonder what we'll see next?"
"Have you any wild beasts in these jungles?" asked Mr. Alcando ofthe Indian guide.
"Well, not many. We have some deer, though this is not the besttime to see them. And once in a while you'll see a--"
"What's that?" suddenly interrupted Blake, pointing through thethick growth of trees. "I saw some animal moving then. Maybe itwas a deer. I'd like to get a picture of it."
There was a movement in the underbrush, and a shouting among thenative carriers.
"Come on!" cried Joe, dashing ahead with a camera.
"Better wait," advised Mr. Alcando. "It might be somethingdangerous."
"It's only some tapirs, I think," the guide said. "They areharmless."
"Then we'll film them," decided Blake, though the mere fact ofharm or danger being absent did not influence him.
Both he and Joe had taken pictures of dangerous wild animals inAfrica, and had stood at the camera, calmly turning the handle,when it seemed as though death was on its way toward them inhorrible form. Had occasion demanded it now they would have goneon and obtained the pictures. But there could be no danger fromthe tapirs.
The pictures obtained, however, were not very satisfactory. Thelight was poor, for the jungle was dense there, and the tapirstook fright almost at first, so the resultant film, as Blake andJoe learned later, when it was developed, was hardly worth thetrouble they took. Still, it showed one feature of the Panamajungle.
All about the boys was a wonderful and dense forest. There weremany beautiful orchids to be seen, hanging from trees as thoughthey really grew, as their name indicates, in the air. Blake andJoe took views of some of the most beautiful. There was one, knownas the "Holy Ghost" which only blooms twice a year, and when thepetals slowly open there is seen inside them something whichresembles a dove.
"Let's get some pictures of the next native village we come to,"suggested Blake, as they went on after photographing the orchidsand the tapirs.
"All right, that ought to go good as showing a type of life here,"Joe agreed. And they made a stop in the next settlement, or"clearing," as it more properly should be called.
At first the native Indians were timid about posing for theirpictures, but the guide of the boys' party explained, and soonthey were as eager as children to be snapped and filmed.
"This is the simple life, all right," remarked Blake, as theylooked at the collection of huts. "Gourds and cocoanut shells forkitchen utensils."
That was all, really, the black housekeeper had. But she did notseem to feel the need of more. The Panama Indians are very lazy.If one has sufficient land to raise a few beans, plantains andyams, and can catch a few fish, his wants are supplied. He burnssome charcoal for fuel, and rests the remainder of the time.
"That is, when he doesn't go out to get some fresh meat for thetable," explained the guide.
"Meat? Where can he get meat in the jungle, unless he spears atapir?" asked Blake.
"There's the iguana," the guide said, with a laugh.
"Do they eat them?" cried Joe, for several times in the tripthrough the jungles he had jumped aside at a sight of the biglizards, which are almost as large as cats. They are probably theugliest creatures in existence, if we except the horned toad andthe rhinoceros.
"Eat them! I should say they did!" cried the guide. "Come overhere."
He led the way toward a hut and there the boys saw a mostrepulsive, and, to them, cruel sight. There were seve
ral of thebig iguanas, or lizards, with their short legs twisted and crossedover their backs. And, to keep the legs in this position the sharpclaw of one foot was thrust through the fleshy part of anotherfoot. The tail of each iguana had been cut off.
"What in the world do they do that for?" asked Blake.
"That's how they fatten the iguanas," the guide said. "The nativescatch them alive, and to keep them from crawling off they fastentheir legs in that manner. And, as the tail isn't good to eat,they chop that off."
"It's cruel!" cried Joe.
"Yes, but the Indians don't mean it so," the guide went on. "Theyare really too lazy to do anything else. If some one told them itwas work to keep the lizards as they do, instead of just shuttingthem up in a box to stay until they were needed to be killed forfood, they'd stop this practice. They'd do anything to get out ofwork; but this plan seems to them to be the easiest, so they keepit up."
"Is iguana really good eating?" asked Joe.
"Yes, it tastes like chicken," the guide informed them. "But fewwhite persons can bring themselves to eat it."
"I'd rather have the fruits," said Mr. Alcando. The boys had eatentwo of the jungle variety. One was the _mamaei_, which was aboutas large as a peach, and the other the _sapodilla_, fruit of thecolor of a plum. The seeds are in a jelly-like mass.
"You eat them and don't have to be afraid of appendicitis," saidthe Spaniard with a laugh.
Several views were taken in the jungle "village," as Joe calledit, and then they went farther on into the deep woods.
"Whew! It's hot!" exclaimed Joe, as they stopped to pitch a campfor dinner. "I'm going to have a swim." They were near agood-sized stream.
"I'm with you," said Blake, and the boys were soon splashing awayin the water, which was cool and pleasant.
"Aren't you coming in?" called Blake to Mr. Alcando, who was onshore.
"Yes, I think I will join you," he replied. He had begun toundress, when Blake, who had swum half-way across the stream, gavea sudden cry.
"Joe! Joe!" he shouted. "I'm taken with a cramp, and there is analligator after me. Help!"