CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVI
"We Go Not Forth Alone"
New Year's Day, 1956, saw Ed and his family, and Pete and Olive Fleming, in Shandia with Jim and me, while Roger and Barbara Youderian stayed in the McCully house in Arajuno, to be on hand in case the "neighbors" came calling. Nate was completing his preparations for the very serious task of transporting the missionaries and their equipment to the beachhead. Monday morning, January 2, was a clear day for flying. By this time Pete had decided to go, so Nate had planned to get Pete and Olive and the McCullys back to Arajuno from Shandia that day, and to shuttle Jim over on Tuesday. But on the morning radio contact he said: "Think you better get ready to go to Arajuno today, Jim. We need time tonight for plans, and ought to take advantage of the good weather."
Jim began throwing his things into an Indian carrying-net while the McCullys and Flemings were flown over to Arajuno. Everything he could think of that might help or amuse the Aucas, should they pay the men a visit, Jim put into the bag: harmonica, snakebite kit, flashlight, View-Master with picture reels, yo-yo, and, above all, the precious notebook of Auca language material, with the carefully arranged morphology file. I helped Jim get his things together, wondering all the while, "Will this be the last time I'll help him pack? Will this be the last lunch he'll eat in Shandia?"
When the little plane returned, circling over the airstrip, preparing to land to pick up Jim, his baggage, and the last few pieces of the prefabricated tree house he had made, we went together out the front door. Jim did not look back. At the strip he kissed me good-by, and the plane was off.
That night in Arajuno the five men made a tentative schedule of timing for the next day's landing on Palm Beach in order to see whether the whole setup on the beach could be ready by evening. No detail was omitted; lists of equipment for each flight were made, and copies distributed among members. After supper and schedule conference, the stuff was laid out. The place began to look like a fullscale beachhead as each man checked and completed his equipment lists.
When they turned in, sleep did not come easily for Nate, on whom rested the greatest burden of responsibility. He was spending the night at Arajuno in order to save time in the morning. His diary tells of that night:
"I drowsed off quite soon, but was checking the luminous face of my watch dial at 12:30, again at 2:00, and from then on I was on horizontal listening-post guard duty. I prayed, tried repeating verses from memory, and even counting. My entire share in this business seemed to hinge on that first take-off and landing. Then, too, I had told the fellows that I would only take one in alone on the first trip. That meant a lonely vigil for someone. Roj was ruled out, because he spoke only Jivaro. Ed had already beat Jim by pulling straws, but Jim held out, claiming to be lighter. When I said a difference of fifteen pounds would be decisive, they dragged out the bathroom scales. Ed was only seven pounds heavier than Jim. 'Why, you cotton picker!' said Jim. 'You've lost weight.' "
Nate continued in his diary: "If I should misjudge, Ed and I would really be in a fix. If the plane were damaged it would mean vulnerability in a flood, possibly even dismantling it and making a strip on higher ground-all this in a forest inhabited by Aucas! We had faced it in the light of past tests and decided to go ahead. As I slept, or tried, it was still a rough decision. But there was no doubt in my mind that we should forge ahead. The stakes warranted it.
"The last time I 'punched in' was 4 A.M. From four until movement in the house woke me at 5:45, I slept."
The morning of January 3 dawned clear. Somehow Nate found time later to record the events of that day-the day of the first landing in Auca territory:
"Roj and I got right out to the plane. We'd been losing fluid out of the right brake. With a ten-cc syringe and No. 22 hypodermic needle we sucked brake fluid out of the left master cylinder and injected it into the right. No soap. Not enough. We'd lost too much when I fixed the brake fitting the night before.
"The others were hauling boards and equipment and aluminum to the strip and arranging all in order of priority.
"At the 7 A.M. radio contact we asked Mad to ask Johnny to bring us brake fluid as quickly as possible. Also, Olive had had a rough night (sick) and planned to go back to Shell with Johnny. This delay gave us a peaceful breakfast and time for prayer together."
At the close of their prayers the five men sang one of their favorite hymns, "We Rest on Thee," to the stirring tune of "Finlandia." Jim and Ed had sung this hymn since college days and knew the verses by heart. On the last verse their voices rang out with deep conviction.
"We rest on Thee, our Shield and our Defender, Thine is the battle, Thine shall be the praise When passing through the gates of pearly splendor Victors, we rest with Thee through endless days. "
Nate's terse account continues: "It was a beautiful day. Chiggers kept us scratching, but spirits were all high. Johnny hove in sight at 7:40. We decided he should stand by till we'd see how the first landing turned out. Ed and I got airborne at about 8:02 A.M. Curiously enough we had started the tentative schedule on paper at 8 A.M.- and when we got up over the first ridge we could see by the river fog over the Curaray that we never could have made it earlier. The fog got uncomfortably thicker under us but the holes allowed us to keep in touch with the river. The sun was shining and we figured it better to wait, if necessary, for the right holes rather than turn back and make a later attempt.
"As we got within two minutes of the site, the fog thinned so that we could safely slip down under it and make an approach. We went in, simulating a real landing, checked the full length for sticks and other hazards and pulled up.
"I had planned three runs before landing, but the thing was exactly as we had seen it several times before. As we came in the second time we slipped down between the trees in a steep side slip. It felt good as we made the last turn and came to the sand, so I set it down. The right wheel hit within six feet of the water and the left ten feet later. As the weight settled on the wheels I felt it was soft sandtoo late to back out now. I hugged the stick back and waited. One softer spot and we'd have been on our nose-maybe our back. It never came.
"We jumped out, rejoicing in the deliverance. The relief at being past that hurdle without damage dampened my sensitivity to the glaring possibility that I might not be able to take off. It was great just to be there.
"We ran up and down the sand hunting the best course for a take-off attempt and removing sticks that could puncture a tire. Then Ed took the movie camera to the far end while I taxied back toward a take-off position.
"About thirty yards from the end I felt the right wheel sink, and my heart sank with it. I cut the engine and Ed came on the double. He lifted the low wing and I hoisted the tail around. Then using the engine, and with Ed listing the wing, we got out of the softer stuff and cut the engine. Again we searched for harder spots. Finally we pushed the airplane backward into some bushes right at the edge of the beach. It meant losing thirty yards of the total 200 available-a critical loss in view of the generally soft consistency of the whole area. However, the plane had been lightened and we were now working only 1,000 feet above sea level, where we would get more lift out of the wing.
"As I got back into the plane, Ed went again to the far end of the beach. It shook me a little to think what Ed might record with that movie camera. After a final check I let 'er go. The sand really grabbed the wheels, but the acceleration still seemed satisfactory, so I hung on and was airborne in about 130 yards (about forty or fifty before being over the water) at about thirty miles per hour. I held it down close to the water to gain speed and then pulled up steeply out of that hardwood canyon; circled back, saluted Ed, and beat a trail for Arajuno-not quite sure yet what I should do next. At least I knew now what I was in for.
"At Arajuno everyone was glad to see the plane back, but my story dampened the festive spirit appreciably. We scrapped the scheduled list for flight No. 2 and took, instead, Jim and Roj and such basic equipment as was absolutely essential-like the walkie-talkie and a little more food. The men gave me more ballast aft. If anything went wrong-if we nosed over in the landing-there would be four of us at least. Johnny continues to stand by now. He suggested softening the tires to keep them up in the sand. It never occurred to me, but having taken them down to about twelve pounds each, I felt much better.
"We took off three minutes behind schedule. The fog was almost gone. We circled once, checked safety harness and slipped down between the trees. The soft tires stayed on top of the sand much better and the sun was drying things out.
"The meeting of the three musketeers was jubilant. They set to work clearing debris from the playa while I got the plane into position for take-off just as I had done last time-same deal: cut over the water, and then up and out.
"Trip No. 3 took in their radio and some tools and the first-priority boards for the tree house. Running about ten minutes behind schedule, I believe.
"The three fellows on the beach located a good tree, close to the open sand and slanted very slightly, in which they started to nail up the ladder and tree house. They hadn't figured on its being an ironwood tree, but that is what it proved to be-a wood which lives up to its name. Next flights brought in personal items, a larger radio, more food, and the last boards and aluminum."
Later Nate recorded: "Now twenty-five minutes behind schedule because I was spending time in unscheduled committee meetings on the beach."
Working with safety belts, plagued by myriads of sweat bees and tiny gnats, the men managed to nail up the two platforms on which they were to sleep, with an aluminum roof overhead. With Nate's fifth flight completed, he headed for Terminal City, where he called out to the Aucas over the public-address system: "Come tomorrow to the Curaray." The Indians "showed puzzlement at hearing this message." Nate swung briefly back to Palm Beach and called to the fellows that he had given the message to the Aucas. Then he flew to Arajuno to sleep.
Next morning, Wednesday, January 4, Jim wrote me a letter. "Just worked up a sweat on the hand crank of the radio. Nobody's reading us but we read all the morning contacts clearly. We had a good night with a coffee-and-sandwich break at 2 A.M. Didn't set a watch last night, as we really feel cozy and secure thirty-five feet off the ground in our little bunks. The beach is good for landings, but too soft for take-offs. We have these three alternatives: (1) wait for the sun to harden it up and sit until a stiff breeze makes a take-off possible; (2) go make a strip in Terminal City; (3) walk out. We saw puma [jungle lion] tracks on the sand and heard them last night. It is a beautiful jungle, open and full of palms. Much hotter than Shandia. Sweat with just a net over me last night. Our hopes are up, but no signs of the 'neighbors' yet. Perhaps today is the day the Aucas will be reached. It was a fight getting this hut up, but it is sure worth it to be up off the ground. We're going down now. Pistols, gifts, novelties, and prayer in our hearts. All for now ..."
Ed wrote to Marilou:
Dearest Baby:
It is 1:00 P.M. and we've just finished dinner and Nate is taking off to see if he can spot the boys. We are waiting for them to show up. Meals are fine and plentiful. I'll send some dirty clothes back with Nate this evening. Bugs are bad. Here's a list of things we need:
1. Two air mattresses-we are sending plastic ones back.
2. The pricker for gasoline pressure stove.
3. Three shigras [Indian carrying-nets] to hang up in our tree house to put stuff in.
4. 1 empty milk can to put candy in.
5. Alcohol for pressure stove.
6. My sun glasses.
7. Insect repellant.
8. More milk and lemonade.
9. Old scraps of meat for fish bait.
I love you very much. Give my love to the boys.
Ed
Thanks for everything.
10. Sun helmet, if around.
On Wednesday morning Nate and Pete took off from Arajuno, flew over Terminal City, and noticed a definite "thinning out of the crowd" there. This encouraged them to think "the boys" were on their way to Palm Beach. Landing on the sandstrip at Palm Beach, they found Ed, Roj, and Jim pacing the beach, holding out gifts and shouting welcome phrases to the trees. Nate set to work checking the radio and found the transmitter had not functioned because of a loose connection in the microphone. He was relieved to re-establish contact with Marj in Shell Mera. Roj and Nate built a beach house, then went swimming while Ed and Jim "sacked out" in the tree house.
The afternoon drowsed by, and as the tropical sun began to slide down behind the great forest trees, Nate once more elbowed the little plane out of the river valley, and he and Pete headed for Arajuno to spend another night. "Thank God for the unusually evident blessing we have seen yesterday and today," Nate wrote in his diary. "Thank God for a good team, and forbid that any man should fail to praise HIM."
Again on Thursday, January 5, Nate, with a driving sense of urgency, was writing of events as they happened. His account of the day's events, in the last week, was scrawled in pencil in a schoolboy's notebook (there was no typewriter on Palm Beach):
"All's quiet at Palm Beach. However, we feel sure we are being watched. On the way in this morning, Pete and I flew over Terminal City; two women and two children at Old Man's house. Airplane house is deserted. Probably women and children have gone up to big house. Big house showed five or six women, several children and possibly one old man.
"While letting down for Palm Beach we checked about a mile of playas below camp site. Saw several tracks, probably of tapir and other smaller stuff. On way up to camp site we were down in riverbed thinking to salute the fellows and pull up and around to land when, just one bend below camp, we sighted footprints. We pulled up and doubled back for another look. They were unmistakable. We buzzed on up past camp, saluted, pulled up and around checking the two playas above camp (no soap) and landed. News of the footprints livened up the party considerably.
"Everyone had had a good night's sleep in the tree house. At 9 P.M. strong wind swayed trees and made such sounds that woke up the three men. But all three were soon asleep again. They had a lighted lantern up there to keep the target well lit. At 5 A.M. they shined the flashlight down on the playa to check a gift machete left the night before. It was gone! For the next fifteen minutes the jungles rang with Auca phrases-perhaps with a Midwestern accent. They then shined the light for a closer look. A big leaf had fallen on the knife so as to hide it. Tough!
"As Pete and I pulled in here Jim was out in the river fishing almost in Auca uniform. Modesty seems a small consideration after seeing the dress of our 'neighbors.' If our dress is any criterion, we're giving them everything. Pete's long-sleeved shirt, pants, and straw hat make him look like a beachcomber. Flies keep the rest of us pretty well clad in tee-shirts, pants, and tennis shoes. Jim sits in the smoke from the fire when not fishing or standing in the middle of the river 'preaching' out of his notebook of phrases.
"Except for forty-seven billion flying insects of every sort, this place is a little paradise. With the help of smoke and repellant we are all enjoying the experience immensely. A little while ago Jim pulled in a fifteen-inch catfish. It is roasting over the fire now. Ed and Roj are up at the bend clearing a bad group of trees out of the approach. It's pretty close dropping down through there-will be much better now.
"Pete is stirring. Getting interested in lunch. Just emptied a plastic bag of prepared raw vegetables into a pressure cooker already partly filled with meat chunks. He's gone up to the tree house now for salt.
"The 'armor' Roj made (breast and tummy plate) out of a gas drum worked very well for a stove. While getting steam up on the stew we tossed termite nests on the fire to chase the gnats like the Indians do. By the time the three musketeers got back the stew was done and everyone was ready to test it. It went down easily, flushed along by generous quantities of lukewarm lemonade.
"Ever since Pete and I landed and reported the human footprints among the tapir and others, we were the objects of boisterous ridicule. However, curiosity brought on the acid test, and Jim and Roj started downstream, wading and running the beaches to check up at close range. We agreed that if they didn't show up in an hour, we'd look for them from the air. Fifty minutes later we saw them coming. I waded out to meet them and get the word-'Tapir,' they called. Then at closer range-'Aucas-at least thirty of them.' Characters! Sure enough, there were footprints-an adult, a youngster, perhaps twelve years old, and a little tot, but the prints were maybe a week old. The mud they were stamped in was cracked from drying. Sixty miles per hour or no, we had sure enough distinguished the prints from the many animal tracks.
"Among other tracks there were alligator, puma, tapir, et cetera. We also saw some good-sized ducks. Someone said, 'Too bad they're out of season.' (We banned firing guns for fear of frightening the Indians.)
"When someone noted with humor that although in Ecuador, we weren't speaking any Spanish, the response was, 'No one else around here does either.'
"We had all discovered the benefits of lolling in the shallow water nine-tenths submerged, and since I had just finished with the 2 P.M. contact, I shed my clothes and raced the gnats to the water, taking the sun helmet along. The fellows thought it a regal sight-nothing but a helmet and two bare feet sticking out of the water, so they dug out a couple of cameras. We enhanced some of the shots by adding Time magazine to the 'hydraulic siesta.'
"Jim then started reading us a novel. We roared over even remotely funny suggestions and finally skipped to the end to see who married whom and set it aside in favor of some readings from Time magazine. One indulgent description really rolled us-'He looked like a tenement Tom starting his ninth life in the garbage can circuit.'
"At 3 P.M. I went aloft and circled up to 6,000 feet, where I could see the Auca clearing and Palm Beach at the same time. And then I glided down slowly, pausing now and then to circle tightly at full throttle so that anyone could hear me and judge the direction from the sound. As I approached to land I thought I saw fresh human tracks just two bends upstream from camp. They were among old tapir tracks-couldn't arouse any enthusiasm over it at camp. I was about fresh out of enthusiasm too-for everything.
"By 4:30 everyone felt that the Aucas had not yet found our location. Yet everyone was determined to `sweat it out' till they should locate us and show themselves. One thing sure is that if we are fagged just waiting on the beach-the Aucas are really going to lose their zip by the time they locate us after tramping two or three days through the jungle. Pete and I were ready to take off for Arajuno at 4:45. The air was dead. We left all unnecessary weight behind. As we started slogging down through the soft sand on the take-off run we weren't doing at all well. At about the half-way point I cut the throttle and we stopped in about thirty yards. It looked like Pete might help guard the tree house for the night, but we plowed back to take-off position for one more try. Roj talked us into shutting the engine off and pushing the plane by hand just as far back as we possibly could. The tail wheel was just a few feet from the water! Then Jim went down to the wind sock to give signals and with Ed and Roj pushing the wing struts we started out. This time we made it okay and made a bee-line for Terminal City. We circled the main house twice, repeating the words `Curaray Apa' (River).
"Engine skipped a beat over Terminal City (sparkplug trouble). A man was on the platform kneeling toward the direction of the camp site and pointing with both hands. This really gave us a boost. We hurried back and glided down over camp shouting the news. They signaled okay and we hit for home. At Arajuno we circled a couple of times, shouting a welcome to 'anyone' who might be in the bush, then landed. After landing, Pete and I walked the airstrip with a gift machete-no soap.
"We find we have a friendlier feeling for these fellows all the time. We must not let that lead us to carelessness. It is no small thing to try to bridge between twentieth century and the stone age. God help us to take care.
"Everyone is in bed and asleep here now. So it is left to me to go down the path and shut off the diesel. My little blank revolver is a welcome companion on such a venture. But safety is of the Lord. May we see 'them' soon. Nite."