At that moment, the native lying on the ground inadvertently saw the cold glint that flashed when I drew my machete, and he was so frightened that he could hardly get up like a pile of mud.
I walked step by step toward the natives with my knife in hand. Each step felt like stepping on their hearts, making them tremble.
I cut all the ropes binding Top and then picked him up. That's when I noticed a blowgun wound on Top's leg, but it wasn't deep; I guessed that was the blowgun that had used to anesthetize him.
I felt Top's pulse in his neck with my hand, and apart from it beating a little slower, everything seemed normal.
I think the indigenous person didn't use poison, but rather a type of natural medicine with anesthetic properties.
Knowing it wasn't poison, I felt relieved. As long as Top is alright, we can all talk things over. But if something unfortunate happens, they'll probably encounter some kind of accident as well.
I think since these natives have mastered techniques like anesthesia, they might also know something about the corresponding antidote.
To prevent the natives from continuing to fear me, I put the shotgun back on my back.
Then I helped the native who had been lying prostrate on the ground, trembling, to his feet. Talking to him was obviously useless, so I used the same hand gestures as before.
I pointed to Top, whom I was holding, then clasped my hands together and rested my head on the back of my hands in a sleeping position. I then pointed to the native and Top, indicating that I should ask him to wake Top up.
At that moment, the native saw that I had no intention of punishing him, but only asked him to wake up a numbed monkey, so he dared not be negligent in the slightest.
The native took out a package wrapped in leaves from his waist, and then took out several black fruits the size of soybeans from it.
The local pointed to the fruit in his hand and then made a gesture of pouring water. He meant he wanted to process the fruit and was asking for my permission.
I nodded to him, and the local man asked his companion for a wooden bowl. Soon after, he brought me a small bowl of water.
Perhaps he was afraid I wouldn't trust him, so he used a stone to smash all the black fruits into powder right in front of me.
At first I thought it was some kind of black berry, but now that I see the natives smashing it open with stones, I realize it must be the seed from some kind of fruit, or some kind of nut.
Once cracked open, the fruit contains pure white, sandy flesh that can be easily rubbed into a fine powder.
The indigenous man crushed all the pulp from these black fruits into powder, added it to water, stirred it, then bowed his head, held the bowl in both hands, knelt down, and respectfully handed it to me.
I took the bowl from the clay figure, held it to my nose, and smelled it. It had a faint almond scent.
Now I think these natives wouldn't dare to play any tricks. They should know that if something happens to Top, they will suffer along with him.
However, due to my innate vigilance, just to be on the safe side, I made the native drink a sip of the medicine first.
After a while, it was observed that the local still did not show any signs of discomfort.
I told him to run a lap around the woods and back here, and I emphasized that he had to run fast. The indigenous people didn't quite understand, but they could only do as I said.
This guy runs pretty fast; he finished the lap around the small grove of trees, which was about 100 or 200 meters long, in just over a minute.
The native was panting heavily as it looked at me, indicating that it had finished running as I had asked.
I carefully observed the natives, whose faces were flushed from running, and found nothing unusual. If there was any poison now, it would have already spread completely due to their strenuous exercise.
This time, I finally believe the local people in front of me.
I brought the wooden bowl to Top's mouth, pinched its cheeks, opened its mouth a little, and poured the medicine down its throat.
After about twenty minutes of the infusion, Top gradually regained consciousness. Its fingers twitched first, and then its eyelids slowly opened.
At this moment, Top was like someone who had just had a hangover after drinking a lot of alcohol, and now he felt extremely weak.
Top blinked and looked at me, seemingly a little confused. He had just been wandering around in the jungle when he somehow felt something sting his leg, and then he fell asleep.
When it woke up, it found itself in this unfamiliar place. What Top didn't know was that it had just narrowly escaped a life-or-death ordeal.
If I had been even a fraction of a second slower, Top would probably have already been taken to the tribe for a sacrificial ceremony, his fate unknown.
Seeing that Top had woken up and was in good health, I decided not to continue arguing with these natives.
After all, from a certain perspective, they never intended to harm me in the first place. Since everyone is at peace, I don't want to harm my nemesis unnecessarily.
He immediately pointed at Top in front of the locals, then pointed at me. The meaning was clear: this monkey is mine, and I can take it without any problem.
These locals were already terrified of me. Facing me, a living Yama with a stick that could kill or take lives at any moment, they dared not utter a single word of dissent. They all nodded at me with utmost sincerity.
In their eyes, this meant the gods had forgiven their sins. They were just taking away the offerings that were rightfully theirs; they were too busy secretly rejoicing to think anything more.
Seeing the respectful expressions of these natives, I felt quite satisfied. I looked at the weapon in my hand and sighed, "Sure enough, reasoning with words is never as effective as using a gun..."
I turned to leave with Top and Pat, when the tallest of the natives stepped forward and called out to me, stopping me in my tracks.
"Hmm? You have a problem with that?"
I turned around somewhat displeased, my hand resting on the shotgun, as if I were about to draw it at the slightest provocation.
Seeing my expression, the native was so frightened that he knelt down again and mumbled a long string of words, then pointed to the southwest corner and gestured for a while.
Because the sign language we created for the blind is characterized by local features, it is relatively difficult to understand.
Finally, this local probably racked his brains trying to make me understand what he meant.
Then he started doing sleeping, eating, and some other indescribable things on the ground, and that's when I realized he wanted to take me to their tribe.
And judging from the body language of these natives, he seemed to be saying that their tribe's high priest had been waiting for my arrival.
I'm a little suspicious of this. Are they overestimating me? I've never interacted with them before; today was just our first contact. How could their high priest have known I would be coming?
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