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But, you will ask, why these experiences and why this delay, when
you and your comrades should have been occupied day and night in the
devising of some means by which you could return to the outer world?
My answer is, that there was not one of us who was not working for
this end, but that our work had been in vain. One fact we had
very speedily discovered: The Indians would do nothing to help us.
In every other way they were our friends--one might almost say our
devoted slaves--but when it was suggested that they should help us
to make and carry a plank which would bridge the chasm, or when we
wished to get from them thongs of leather or liana to weave ropes
which might help us, we were met by a good-humored, but an
invincible, refusal. They would smile, twinkle their eyes, shake
their heads, and there was the end of it. Even the old chief met
us with the same obstinate denial, and it was only Maretas, the
youngster whom we had saved, who looked wistfully at us and told
us by his gestures that he was grieved for our thwarted wishes.
Ever since their crowning triumph with the ape-men they looked
upon us as supermen, who bore victory in the tubes of strange
weapons, and they believed that so long as we remained with them
good fortune would be theirs. A little red-skinned wife and a
cave of our own were freely offered to each of us if we would but
forget our own people and dwell forever upon the plateau. So far
all had been kindly, however far apart our desires might be; but
we felt well assured that our actual plans of a descent must be
kept secret, for we had reason to fear that at the last they might
try to hold us by force.
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