Chapter Thirty One.The Fire Grows Hotter.“I do,” said Briscoe, staring. “I can see two canoes coming round the bend yonder, half a mile away.”“Two!” cried Brace excitedly; “why, there are three.”“Yes,” said the captain coolly; “we’re took front, back, and flank. Better put off the rope’s-ending now, Mr Briscoe, eh?”“Well, it would be better,” said the American coolly, as he carefully loaded his piece. “These things are as well done privately and without a lot of lookers on. It might give these dark gentlemen a bad opinion of the whites.”“What are you going to do, captain?” said Sir Humphrey impatiently.“There’s only one course open to us, sir—and that is to fight.”“I mean what will you do about those men who are ashore?”“Oh, they’re settling that themselves, sir,” said the captain, with a chuckle of satisfaction. “They’ve broke away like so many naughty boys who think they can manage for themselves, and as soon as they start they’ve got frightened and are running home for safety.”“But you’ll take them on board, won’t you?” said Brace.“Certainly I shall, and make ’em fight too, sir,” said the captain.“Yes,” said the American, “and they’ll have to do their level best. Shall I cover them, skipper, and let the niggers have a sprinkling of buckshot to show them we are ready?”“Yes,” said the captain; “and you two gentlemen had better help. That’s the first thing—to get them aboard safe.”Pieces were cocked, and their holders sat in the boats watching the flight and pursuit, Brace’s heart beating violently. He glanced up and down at the novel sight of canoes where all heretofore had been so deserted, and saw at once that there was nothing to fear in their direction for the next half-hour, while in another minute or two he could plainly see that a serious engagement would have commenced with the natives on shore, and the sensation this caused was both novel and strange to him.“The idiots!” he said, in a low voice; “why couldn’t they keep to their duties instead of breaking away like this?”“Because they’re just ordinary men,” said Briscoe, who was by his side. “They’re going to pay pretty dear for their game, though.”“Don’t you think that they will be able to get here safely?”“That’s just what I am afraid about. The niggers are better runners than they are, and more at home on the ground, and they could catch up to them at once, only they like to tackle their enemies at a distance. Look!”“Yes, I see,” said Brace, whose breath came and went as if he had been running hard, and his eyes dilated when he saw that, as the men tore off through the various obstacles of rock, bush, and tree, the Indians suddenly began to slacken their pace and prepare their bows.“Ah, we must put a stop to that, gentlemen,” cried the captain. “Give them something to put an end to those games.”A low murmur of acquiescence arose, and guns were levelled, but no shot rang out.“Can’t fire yet, skipper,” growled Briscoe. “I could pick off a man or two with a rifle easily, but I’m not loaded with ball, and these buckshot scatter so. I don’t want to hurt any of our own chaps if I can help it.”“And they’re too far off from us as yet,” said Brace excitedly.“Well, they’ll soon shorten the distance,” growled the captain; and then he clapped his hand to the side of his mouth and yelled to his mutineers: “Now, run, you lubbers! Don’t go to sleep. Run as if you meant it.”Taang!“Bah! he’s got it,” cried the captain.There was the dull half-musical sound of a bowstring, and to Brace’s horror one of their flying men made a spasmodic jump into the air and came down upon hands and knees, his nearest messmates passing on some twenty yards before they could check their speed; and then, in the midst of the thrill of excitement which ran through the occupants of the boats, the retreating party paused, and dashed back to help their fallen mate.An involuntary cheer of encouragement rang out from those in the boats.“Good boys—good boys!” yelled the captain. “That’s true British, Briscoe. There, I forgive ’em all for that. Oh, if they only had something in their fists they’d drive the beggars back to the woods. Pick him up, boys, a leg or a wing apiece, and run again. Oh, Lor’ a’ mercy, gentlemen, can’t one of you shoot?”For in those exciting moments the Indians, who had come bounding forward with a triumphant yell on seeing the white man fall, hesitated and stopped in fear and surprise when they saw that their flying enemies had halted and dashed back to rescue their messmate.This, however, was only a momentary pause, for, recovering themselves, they yelled again and rushed forward.It was the opportunity wanted, and almost together three guns flashed out their contents, sending a little storm of buckshot amongst the runners, who turned on the instant and began to retreat towards the woods.“Missed!” cried the captain.“Hit!” cried Briscoe.“No: there’s not a man gone down,” cried the captain.“But plenty of hits,” said Briscoe, setting the example of reloading. “Look at them rubbing their coppery hides. The shots wouldn’t penetrate at this distance.”“Never mind: it’s stopped them, anyhow,” growled the captain. “Bravo! Good boys!” he cried, as he saw his mutinous lads carefully raise their companion, while two of the party armed themselves with big pieces of stone and formed themselves into a rearguard, backing slowly, their faces to the hesitating enemy.“Bravo!” continued the captain. “My boys are the right stuff after all.”He sprang over the boat’s side, gun in hand, as he spoke, and, influenced by the same feeling, Brace and Briscoe followed, the former thrusting his brother back.“No, no, Free,” he cried. “You’re not strong enough yet. Stay in the boat and cover us with one of the rifles.”A look of resentment rose in Sir Humphrey’s eyes, but he accepted the position, dropped back into a seat, exchanged his double fowling-piece for one of the rifles lying ready, and sat watching the progress of the three, who were at once supported by Dellow and Lynton, the men on board cheering as the party of five splashed through the shallow water to meet the mutineers, who were compelled to come slowly on account of their load.The support was none too soon, for, recovering themselves, and enraged at seeing their intended victims escaping, the savages were now advancing once more at a run.“Make for the boat, boys,” cried the captain, as he led his party past the mutineers, and then, setting the example, levelled his piece. “We three will give ’em this taste, gentlemen,” he cried. “You cover us while we reload. Now then, all together—fire!”There were the dull flashes, the puffs of smoke, and a yelling from the enemy who, at fifty yards away, received the stinging volley and were checked, Brace and Briscoe standing fast while the captain and the two mates followed the retreating party with their load.“Two of the enemy down,” said Briscoe coolly. “Old skipper will think he and his men are better shots than we are.”“Let him,” said Brace. “They’re up again. Look out: they’re coming on.”“Stand fast, then,” said Briscoe. “Let ’em have it this way. Can you let ’em come on till they’re five-and-twenty yards nearer?”“Yes,” said Brace, immediately following his companion’s example and dropping on one knee to take aim.“Aim low, Brace,” said Briscoe. “Let’s try to cripple their legs. We don’t want to kill any of them. Aim right in the brown, as you English sportsmen say.”“Right,” replied Brace, setting his teeth and kneeling firm as a rock, while the Indians came on at a trot, grimacing and yelling to frighten them into flight.But they had the wrong stuff to deal with, and their eyes dilated and rings of white appeared round the irises in theft utter astonishment at seeing thetwo white men calmly awaiting their onslaught, Briscoe with the stump of a cigar in his teeth, mumbling out:“Twenty-eight—twenty-seven—twenty-six—twenty-five—fire!”The guns went off together, and the pair sprang up and ran after their companions, to find fifty yards nearer the boat the captain and his officers down on one knee waiting to cover them.“Well aimed!” cried the former. “You two halt to cover us just at the water’s edge. That’ll give the boys time to get aboard, and then we can laugh at the copper-skinned vermin. Look sharp and reload: they’re coming on again.”Brace and his companion continued their retreat, overtaking the sailors with the wounded man, whom they now saw to be Jem, and had endorsement of the fact in the tones of his voice, for he was growling and abusing his bearers.“Put me down, I says, and go and help the old man. I tell you I can get to the boat myself without any help.”“Hold your row,” said one of the men; “if you don’t we’ll bump you.”“Don’t talk, my lads; hurry on,” cried Brace, who was busy reloading. “Look sharp and get aboard.”“Ay, ay, sir,” cried the party cheerily.The next minute they were at the water’s edge, where their defenders halted ready, just as the captain’s voice was heard to shout:“Fire!”Three shots rang out, and, covered by the smoke, the captain and his mates ran on, to begin reloading.“Look sharp, boys!” panted the captain; “get to the boats, each man to his own, but put the wounded man in mine. You’re ready, Mr Brace—Mr Briscoe?”“Yes.”“That’s right: we won’t row away and leave you. Forward, my lads, and get under cover of the boat’s side. Hoist the sail half-mast, and keep behind it. They’ll begin to shoot directly. We’ll get on board first, gentlemen, to cover you from the boats. Stand fast till we’re all in if you can, and then give ’em all four barrels and make a dash for it before the smoke rises.”These next were anxious moments, but Brace did not flinch, and his companion went on talking with his eyes fixed upon the approaching enemy, each man holding an arrow to his bowstring, but unaccountably refraining from winging it home. He seemed to be in every case watching the muzzles of the guns in wonder and fear as he slowly approached.“I want to cut and run horribly, Brace,” said the American, in a husky voice; “only I suppose we mustn’t. We shall look like porcupines directly—full of arrows, I expect; but keep up your spirits: I daresay we shall each have a fair share.”“I say, don’t!” said Brace. “It is too serious to joke about.”“And no mistake. Are they all aboard yet?” asked Briscoe.“Don’t know, and can’t look round. I must face them. It would be ever so much worse to turn our backs.”“Ten times,” said Briscoe. “Look out! I say; that’s a fresh party—twenty or thirty of them, coming out of the woods a quarter of a mile away. They ought to be too late to reach us.”“Our men are all on board, and the Indians are going to rush us,” whispered Brace.“That’s so,” said the American. “Be ready. I’ll say ‘Fire!’ Then wait till the smoke lifts, when I’ll give the word again, and then it’s a rush through the water to the boats. Bet you two cents I get most arrows in my back.”“Steady!” growled Brace hoarsely.“Fire!” shouted the captain from the boat, and, in spite of the order upsetting their plans, the covering party obeyed and sent their little shower of shot amongst the yelling enemies’ legs.“Let ’em have it again,” roared the captain from the second boat.The remaining two barrels rang out, and those who fired sprang up and dashed through the water to reach the larger boat, where they were seized and dragged in and under cover.None too soon, for a little shower of arrows came aboard and through the sails, which were shivering in the brisk breeze.The next minute, in response to a thrust or two, and a touch at the tillers, both sails half-filled, and the boats were gliding swiftly away from the shore, the arrows coming more and more seldom, till the last two failed to reach them, but fell into the water twenty yards astern.Then the captain, who had been tending the wounded man, rose up and said, loud enough for those in both boats to hear:“There we are then, my lads, quite out of danger now, and nothing to mind but a few canoes up stream and a few more down; but look here, I’ve just got this to say to you all: if you’d had your way there’d have been a big fire ashore to-night and a general collection of Indians to the biggest roast they had enjoyed for years. After it was over everyone of those copper-skinned gentlemen would have been going about with a good big bit of my crew in his inside. That’s quite true, isn’t it, Mr Briscoe?”“Oh, yes,” said the American: “these people are cannibals still when they get the chance.”“That’s so,” cried the captain; “and now you know, my lads. There, you’ve had your touch of the gold fever, and if we get back on board I’ll give every man-jack of you a dose of quinine. But now I shall say no more about it, for I see you’re all sorry for being such fools, and are going to fall back into your work.”There was a low murmur of assent at this, and the captain spoke again:“What say, Sir Humphrey?”“I say, we seem to be leaving the canoes down the river well behind, but those up stream are bearing down upon us fast.”“Then,” said the captain, “they’d better look out, gentlemen, and keep out of our way, for I mean to rush right upon them full sail. The prows of these boats are pretty sharp, and their dug-outs don’t take much to send them to the bottom. I say, you Dan,” he went on, “you’d better serve round some biscuit and bacon to the lads, for they must be getting peckish after what they’ve gone through. I say, Sir Humphrey, what do you say to making a hand-grenade or two out of pound powder-tins and pieces of rag?”“To throw on board the canoes?” said Sir Humphrey: “horrible!”“Quite true, sir; but it would be more horrible still if these savages should manage to get the better of the crew of the ‘Jason’ brig. What do you say to that?”“I give up,” replied Sir Humphrey. “I hate the idea of slaughtering the poor ignorant wretches, but self-preservation is the first law of nature.”“Exactly so, sir. If we kill it won’t be for the sake of killing.”“How is Jem’s wound going on?” said Brace anxiously.“You take no notice about that, sir,” said the captain, with a peculiar look. “He has got a hole in his leg made by an arrow, and I’ve doctored it up just as I did your brother’s, and laughed at him and told him it served him right. You gentlemen had better take the same line. If he sees that we look serious about it he’ll take and die right off: he’ll kill himself with the belief that he’s shot by a poisoned arrow.”“Is he?” said Brace, in an eager whisper.“I didn’t see the arrow made, sir, and I didn’t see it dipped in anything. What’s more, I never saw the arrow at all, for the boys pulled it out and chucked it away. Maybe it was poisoned; but you see these arrows are only meant to kill birds, and what might kill a bird won’t do much harm to a man. I’ve done all I know for the wound, same as we did for your brother’s. He got well, and if we laugh at Jem he’ll get well too.”“The niggers are coming right down upon us, sir,” said the first mate from the other boat, “and evidently mean to fight.”“All right, Dellow; be ready for ’em. I shall lead. We mean to fight too.”
“I do,” said Briscoe, staring. “I can see two canoes coming round the bend yonder, half a mile away.”
“Two!” cried Brace excitedly; “why, there are three.”
“Yes,” said the captain coolly; “we’re took front, back, and flank. Better put off the rope’s-ending now, Mr Briscoe, eh?”
“Well, it would be better,” said the American coolly, as he carefully loaded his piece. “These things are as well done privately and without a lot of lookers on. It might give these dark gentlemen a bad opinion of the whites.”
“What are you going to do, captain?” said Sir Humphrey impatiently.
“There’s only one course open to us, sir—and that is to fight.”
“I mean what will you do about those men who are ashore?”
“Oh, they’re settling that themselves, sir,” said the captain, with a chuckle of satisfaction. “They’ve broke away like so many naughty boys who think they can manage for themselves, and as soon as they start they’ve got frightened and are running home for safety.”
“But you’ll take them on board, won’t you?” said Brace.
“Certainly I shall, and make ’em fight too, sir,” said the captain.
“Yes,” said the American, “and they’ll have to do their level best. Shall I cover them, skipper, and let the niggers have a sprinkling of buckshot to show them we are ready?”
“Yes,” said the captain; “and you two gentlemen had better help. That’s the first thing—to get them aboard safe.”
Pieces were cocked, and their holders sat in the boats watching the flight and pursuit, Brace’s heart beating violently. He glanced up and down at the novel sight of canoes where all heretofore had been so deserted, and saw at once that there was nothing to fear in their direction for the next half-hour, while in another minute or two he could plainly see that a serious engagement would have commenced with the natives on shore, and the sensation this caused was both novel and strange to him.
“The idiots!” he said, in a low voice; “why couldn’t they keep to their duties instead of breaking away like this?”
“Because they’re just ordinary men,” said Briscoe, who was by his side. “They’re going to pay pretty dear for their game, though.”
“Don’t you think that they will be able to get here safely?”
“That’s just what I am afraid about. The niggers are better runners than they are, and more at home on the ground, and they could catch up to them at once, only they like to tackle their enemies at a distance. Look!”
“Yes, I see,” said Brace, whose breath came and went as if he had been running hard, and his eyes dilated when he saw that, as the men tore off through the various obstacles of rock, bush, and tree, the Indians suddenly began to slacken their pace and prepare their bows.
“Ah, we must put a stop to that, gentlemen,” cried the captain. “Give them something to put an end to those games.”
A low murmur of acquiescence arose, and guns were levelled, but no shot rang out.
“Can’t fire yet, skipper,” growled Briscoe. “I could pick off a man or two with a rifle easily, but I’m not loaded with ball, and these buckshot scatter so. I don’t want to hurt any of our own chaps if I can help it.”
“And they’re too far off from us as yet,” said Brace excitedly.
“Well, they’ll soon shorten the distance,” growled the captain; and then he clapped his hand to the side of his mouth and yelled to his mutineers: “Now, run, you lubbers! Don’t go to sleep. Run as if you meant it.”
Taang!
“Bah! he’s got it,” cried the captain.
There was the dull half-musical sound of a bowstring, and to Brace’s horror one of their flying men made a spasmodic jump into the air and came down upon hands and knees, his nearest messmates passing on some twenty yards before they could check their speed; and then, in the midst of the thrill of excitement which ran through the occupants of the boats, the retreating party paused, and dashed back to help their fallen mate.
An involuntary cheer of encouragement rang out from those in the boats.
“Good boys—good boys!” yelled the captain. “That’s true British, Briscoe. There, I forgive ’em all for that. Oh, if they only had something in their fists they’d drive the beggars back to the woods. Pick him up, boys, a leg or a wing apiece, and run again. Oh, Lor’ a’ mercy, gentlemen, can’t one of you shoot?”
For in those exciting moments the Indians, who had come bounding forward with a triumphant yell on seeing the white man fall, hesitated and stopped in fear and surprise when they saw that their flying enemies had halted and dashed back to rescue their messmate.
This, however, was only a momentary pause, for, recovering themselves, they yelled again and rushed forward.
It was the opportunity wanted, and almost together three guns flashed out their contents, sending a little storm of buckshot amongst the runners, who turned on the instant and began to retreat towards the woods.
“Missed!” cried the captain.
“Hit!” cried Briscoe.
“No: there’s not a man gone down,” cried the captain.
“But plenty of hits,” said Briscoe, setting the example of reloading. “Look at them rubbing their coppery hides. The shots wouldn’t penetrate at this distance.”
“Never mind: it’s stopped them, anyhow,” growled the captain. “Bravo! Good boys!” he cried, as he saw his mutinous lads carefully raise their companion, while two of the party armed themselves with big pieces of stone and formed themselves into a rearguard, backing slowly, their faces to the hesitating enemy.
“Bravo!” continued the captain. “My boys are the right stuff after all.”
He sprang over the boat’s side, gun in hand, as he spoke, and, influenced by the same feeling, Brace and Briscoe followed, the former thrusting his brother back.
“No, no, Free,” he cried. “You’re not strong enough yet. Stay in the boat and cover us with one of the rifles.”
A look of resentment rose in Sir Humphrey’s eyes, but he accepted the position, dropped back into a seat, exchanged his double fowling-piece for one of the rifles lying ready, and sat watching the progress of the three, who were at once supported by Dellow and Lynton, the men on board cheering as the party of five splashed through the shallow water to meet the mutineers, who were compelled to come slowly on account of their load.
The support was none too soon, for, recovering themselves, and enraged at seeing their intended victims escaping, the savages were now advancing once more at a run.
“Make for the boat, boys,” cried the captain, as he led his party past the mutineers, and then, setting the example, levelled his piece. “We three will give ’em this taste, gentlemen,” he cried. “You cover us while we reload. Now then, all together—fire!”
There were the dull flashes, the puffs of smoke, and a yelling from the enemy who, at fifty yards away, received the stinging volley and were checked, Brace and Briscoe standing fast while the captain and the two mates followed the retreating party with their load.
“Two of the enemy down,” said Briscoe coolly. “Old skipper will think he and his men are better shots than we are.”
“Let him,” said Brace. “They’re up again. Look out: they’re coming on.”
“Stand fast, then,” said Briscoe. “Let ’em have it this way. Can you let ’em come on till they’re five-and-twenty yards nearer?”
“Yes,” said Brace, immediately following his companion’s example and dropping on one knee to take aim.
“Aim low, Brace,” said Briscoe. “Let’s try to cripple their legs. We don’t want to kill any of them. Aim right in the brown, as you English sportsmen say.”
“Right,” replied Brace, setting his teeth and kneeling firm as a rock, while the Indians came on at a trot, grimacing and yelling to frighten them into flight.
But they had the wrong stuff to deal with, and their eyes dilated and rings of white appeared round the irises in theft utter astonishment at seeing thetwo white men calmly awaiting their onslaught, Briscoe with the stump of a cigar in his teeth, mumbling out:
“Twenty-eight—twenty-seven—twenty-six—twenty-five—fire!”
The guns went off together, and the pair sprang up and ran after their companions, to find fifty yards nearer the boat the captain and his officers down on one knee waiting to cover them.
“Well aimed!” cried the former. “You two halt to cover us just at the water’s edge. That’ll give the boys time to get aboard, and then we can laugh at the copper-skinned vermin. Look sharp and reload: they’re coming on again.”
Brace and his companion continued their retreat, overtaking the sailors with the wounded man, whom they now saw to be Jem, and had endorsement of the fact in the tones of his voice, for he was growling and abusing his bearers.
“Put me down, I says, and go and help the old man. I tell you I can get to the boat myself without any help.”
“Hold your row,” said one of the men; “if you don’t we’ll bump you.”
“Don’t talk, my lads; hurry on,” cried Brace, who was busy reloading. “Look sharp and get aboard.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” cried the party cheerily.
The next minute they were at the water’s edge, where their defenders halted ready, just as the captain’s voice was heard to shout:
“Fire!”
Three shots rang out, and, covered by the smoke, the captain and his mates ran on, to begin reloading.
“Look sharp, boys!” panted the captain; “get to the boats, each man to his own, but put the wounded man in mine. You’re ready, Mr Brace—Mr Briscoe?”
“Yes.”
“That’s right: we won’t row away and leave you. Forward, my lads, and get under cover of the boat’s side. Hoist the sail half-mast, and keep behind it. They’ll begin to shoot directly. We’ll get on board first, gentlemen, to cover you from the boats. Stand fast till we’re all in if you can, and then give ’em all four barrels and make a dash for it before the smoke rises.”
These next were anxious moments, but Brace did not flinch, and his companion went on talking with his eyes fixed upon the approaching enemy, each man holding an arrow to his bowstring, but unaccountably refraining from winging it home. He seemed to be in every case watching the muzzles of the guns in wonder and fear as he slowly approached.
“I want to cut and run horribly, Brace,” said the American, in a husky voice; “only I suppose we mustn’t. We shall look like porcupines directly—full of arrows, I expect; but keep up your spirits: I daresay we shall each have a fair share.”
“I say, don’t!” said Brace. “It is too serious to joke about.”
“And no mistake. Are they all aboard yet?” asked Briscoe.
“Don’t know, and can’t look round. I must face them. It would be ever so much worse to turn our backs.”
“Ten times,” said Briscoe. “Look out! I say; that’s a fresh party—twenty or thirty of them, coming out of the woods a quarter of a mile away. They ought to be too late to reach us.”
“Our men are all on board, and the Indians are going to rush us,” whispered Brace.
“That’s so,” said the American. “Be ready. I’ll say ‘Fire!’ Then wait till the smoke lifts, when I’ll give the word again, and then it’s a rush through the water to the boats. Bet you two cents I get most arrows in my back.”
“Steady!” growled Brace hoarsely.
“Fire!” shouted the captain from the boat, and, in spite of the order upsetting their plans, the covering party obeyed and sent their little shower of shot amongst the yelling enemies’ legs.
“Let ’em have it again,” roared the captain from the second boat.
The remaining two barrels rang out, and those who fired sprang up and dashed through the water to reach the larger boat, where they were seized and dragged in and under cover.
None too soon, for a little shower of arrows came aboard and through the sails, which were shivering in the brisk breeze.
The next minute, in response to a thrust or two, and a touch at the tillers, both sails half-filled, and the boats were gliding swiftly away from the shore, the arrows coming more and more seldom, till the last two failed to reach them, but fell into the water twenty yards astern.
Then the captain, who had been tending the wounded man, rose up and said, loud enough for those in both boats to hear:
“There we are then, my lads, quite out of danger now, and nothing to mind but a few canoes up stream and a few more down; but look here, I’ve just got this to say to you all: if you’d had your way there’d have been a big fire ashore to-night and a general collection of Indians to the biggest roast they had enjoyed for years. After it was over everyone of those copper-skinned gentlemen would have been going about with a good big bit of my crew in his inside. That’s quite true, isn’t it, Mr Briscoe?”
“Oh, yes,” said the American: “these people are cannibals still when they get the chance.”
“That’s so,” cried the captain; “and now you know, my lads. There, you’ve had your touch of the gold fever, and if we get back on board I’ll give every man-jack of you a dose of quinine. But now I shall say no more about it, for I see you’re all sorry for being such fools, and are going to fall back into your work.”
There was a low murmur of assent at this, and the captain spoke again:
“What say, Sir Humphrey?”
“I say, we seem to be leaving the canoes down the river well behind, but those up stream are bearing down upon us fast.”
“Then,” said the captain, “they’d better look out, gentlemen, and keep out of our way, for I mean to rush right upon them full sail. The prows of these boats are pretty sharp, and their dug-outs don’t take much to send them to the bottom. I say, you Dan,” he went on, “you’d better serve round some biscuit and bacon to the lads, for they must be getting peckish after what they’ve gone through. I say, Sir Humphrey, what do you say to making a hand-grenade or two out of pound powder-tins and pieces of rag?”
“To throw on board the canoes?” said Sir Humphrey: “horrible!”
“Quite true, sir; but it would be more horrible still if these savages should manage to get the better of the crew of the ‘Jason’ brig. What do you say to that?”
“I give up,” replied Sir Humphrey. “I hate the idea of slaughtering the poor ignorant wretches, but self-preservation is the first law of nature.”
“Exactly so, sir. If we kill it won’t be for the sake of killing.”
“How is Jem’s wound going on?” said Brace anxiously.
“You take no notice about that, sir,” said the captain, with a peculiar look. “He has got a hole in his leg made by an arrow, and I’ve doctored it up just as I did your brother’s, and laughed at him and told him it served him right. You gentlemen had better take the same line. If he sees that we look serious about it he’ll take and die right off: he’ll kill himself with the belief that he’s shot by a poisoned arrow.”
“Is he?” said Brace, in an eager whisper.
“I didn’t see the arrow made, sir, and I didn’t see it dipped in anything. What’s more, I never saw the arrow at all, for the boys pulled it out and chucked it away. Maybe it was poisoned; but you see these arrows are only meant to kill birds, and what might kill a bird won’t do much harm to a man. I’ve done all I know for the wound, same as we did for your brother’s. He got well, and if we laugh at Jem he’ll get well too.”
“The niggers are coming right down upon us, sir,” said the first mate from the other boat, “and evidently mean to fight.”
“All right, Dellow; be ready for ’em. I shall lead. We mean to fight too.”
Chapter Thirty Two.The Way to Nowhere.The long light canoes of the approaching Indians were well manned, and as they came nearer Brace could see that most of the occupants wore a kind of tiara made of the tail feathers of parrots or macaws. Several held spears or bows, but the major part were busy paddling, and they came down with the stream, evidently full of fierce determination to destroy or capture the strange intruders upon their solitudes, striving hard to increase the speed of their canoes, which were in a well-kept line.There was no time for the discussion of plans, for the distance between the brig’s boats and the enemy was rapidly growing less.“One wouldn’t have time to prepare anything if one wanted to,” said the captain, after a sharp glance forward. “Will you leave it to me, gentlemen, to do my best?”“Of course,” said Sir Humphrey, and Briscoe nodded from where he knelt, with his double gun held ready in his hand.“Then here goes,” said the captain. “Ahoy there, Dellow; clap on all you can, take the tiller yourself; and run one of the canoes down. Let your lads knock all over who try to board you.”“Ay, ay!” came back in answer from the second boat.“Now, Lynton,” continued the captain, “steer for that canoe in the centre. We’re going faster than they are. You, gentlemen, don’t shoot, but use the butt-ends of your rifles if we should happen to get to close quarters. Every man take an oar or boathook, and use ’em like as if they were whaling-lances. Ready? Look out!”Their boat, with the sail straining at the sheet, was now rushing through the water, the side not two inches above the surface, as she raced for the centre of the line of canoes.“Sit fast!” roared the captain. “Down with you, Mr Brace, or you’ll be overboard.”Brace, who had risen in his excitement so as to be able to club his gun, dropped down on to the seat at once.Then from in front as their own boat seemed to be standing absolutely still and the line of canoes dashing rapidly at them with the paddles churning up the water on either side, there was a fierce yelling, a gleam of opal-rimmed eyes, a crash which made the boat quiver from stem to stern. The sail jerked and snapped as if it were going to fall over the side, and then they were past the centre canoe, sailing on as fast as ever.Lynton had done his work well, steering so that he drove the boat’s iron-protected cut-water right upon the centre canoe’s bows diagonally some six feet from the front, when for a few brief moments their progress seemed to be stopped. Directly afterwards the occupants of the stoutly-built boat felt her gliding right over the canoe, which rolled like a log of wood, and then the men were cheering as they looked back at the glistening bottom of the long vessel and six or eight black heads bobbing about in the water.Crash, grind, and there was another canoe capsized, literally rolled over by the second boat, which seemed to those in the first to rise and glide over the crank dug-out, now beginning to float broadside on with her crew swimming to her side.A hearty cheer rose now from Dellow and his men, which was echoed from the first boat, as the distance between the party and their fierce enemies rapidly increased.“You did that splendidly, captain!” cried Brace excitedly.“Tidy, sir, tidy,” was the reply; “but these boats weren’t built for steeplechasing in South American rivers. Let’s see what damage is done. I don’t suppose we’re much hurt.”The captain stepped from thwart to thwart as he spoke, and, getting right forward, he leaned over the bows and carefully examined as far as he could reach, before raising his face again and turning to Brace, who had followed him, to now meet his eyes with an enquiring look.“Right as a trivet,” he said. “Took off some of the varnish; that’s all that I can see. Ahoy! what damage, Dellow?” he roared to the mate in the boat astern.There was no reply for a minute or so whilst the first mate examined his boat.Then came a shout, in Dellow’s familiar tones:“Twopenn’orth o’ paint gone, and a bit of a splintery crack in the top plank.”“Any leakage?”“Not a doo-drop, sir,” was the reply.“Well done. Keep close up abreast,” shouted the captain; and, now that the safety of the boats was assured, attention was directed to the canoes, which were being rapidly left astern.“They seem to be trying to right their craft,” said Sir Humphrey, who, like Briscoe, was making observations with his pocket glass.“Yes,” added Briscoe, “and they turned them over quite easily, but their sides are down flush with the water.”“The men have got in again, and they appear to be splashing out the water with their paddles,” said Sir Humphrey.“That’s right,” said Briscoe, “and the other canoes have ranged up alongside. I can see quite plainly: there’s a canoe on each side of the injured ones to keep them up.”“It’s my belief that they may bale till all’s blue before they get ’em to float. Those dug-outs are worked till they get ’em as thin and light as they can, and if we haven’t cut a good gap in each one’s side, it’s a rum one,” growled the captain. “What are they doing now, sir? It’s rather far to see, but it seems to me that they’re trying to get the sunken canoes to the shore.”“Yes: that’s just what they are trying to do,” cried Sir Humphrey. “Oh, yes, I can see that plain enough.”“Then they won’t follow us up to-day, gentlemen,” said the captain; “and perhaps we may not see them again. Might like to sail back, p’r’aps, Mr Briscoe,” he continued, “and give the copperskins a friendly word about hope they’re not damaged, and then settle down in the shallows for a good afternoon’s gold-washing.”“Not to-day, thankye, skipper,” said the American drily. “It might be teaching the savages how to catch the gold fever, as you called it, and be bad for their health.”“P’r’aps so,” said the captain, with a peculiarly grim look and a glance round at the crew; “and they’ll be better employed gumming up those holes in the sides of the canoes.”“Do you think they’ll pursue us, captain?” said Brace.“Most likely, sir,” was the cheerful reply. “They’ll be wanting to bring us the bill for damages. I’m thinking it would be the safest thing to try and drop down by ’em after dusk. This part begins to be rather unsafe.”He looked at Sir Humphrey as he spoke, and the latter turned to his brother.“Well, I don’t know, captain,” he said: “the wind holds good, and we seem to have passed the danger. I don’t like to give up yet. What do you say, Mr Briscoe?”“I think it would be a hundred pities,” was the quick reply. “The country is getting more and more attractive. Who knows what we may discover, eh, Brace?”“I feel exactly as you do, and think we should proceed,” said the latter quickly.“We’ve got whole skins now,” said the captain dubiously, “all but one of us.”“You think it running too much risk to go on?” said Sir Humphrey.“Well, I can’t say that, sir,” was the reply, “because we may sail on for weeks and weeks and not see another Indian, while if we go back we are sure to see some.”“Exactly,” said Sir Humphrey; “but I can’t help thinking that we are getting now into a more uninhabited part of the country, perhaps where travellers have never been before.”“Then I say let’s go on,” said Briscoe, “and we may find El Dorado, after all.”“El Dorado or no El Dorado, I say don’t let’s give up yet,” said Brace. “Let’s keep on till we are obliged to go back to the brig for stores; and by that time we shall know whether it is worth while to come up here again.”“That’s good advice, sir,” said the captain, smiling at Brace as he spoke. “I don’t want to give up: I like it as well as you do. There’s only one thing wherrits me.”“What’s that?” said Brace.“My brig. I lay awake for a good ten minutes last night thinking about what we should all feel if we got back to where we left her and found that the old ‘Jason’ had dragged her anchors and navigated herself out to sea.”“Oh, but if she had dragged her anchors, captain,” said Brace, “they’d lay hold again somewhere lower down.”“Yes, sir,” said the captain drily; “that’s what comforted me. All right, gentlemen. On we go then. I’m thinking now that after the lesson we gave those gentlemen to-day they mayn’t care to meddle with us again.”“Do you think any of them were killed?” said Brace.“Hardly, sir. Certainly not with the buckshot. If any of them lost the number of their mess it would be just now in the river.”“Drowned?”“Oh, no. They swim like seals. It would be through some of the natives below: old friends of theirs.”Brace felt a shudder run through him as he glanced down over the side, where the water glided deep and dark now from where they were sailing to the tree-clothed shore.But the conversation took another turn then, the captain proposing that a good midday meal should be eaten now, and no halt made till a suitable well-screened resting-place was reached about an hour before dusk.“Why not keep right on till it is quite dusk?” said Sir Humphrey.“He means so that we can land and light our fire in the forest, do our cooking, and put it out again before it’s dark, when it would show our position to any prowling natives,” said Briscoe.“That’s right,” said the captain.These tactics were carried out, a strong wind wafting the boats along mile after mile to a far greater distance than any amount of paddling would bring canoes in pursuit; and fortune favoured them far more, for, just about the time decided upon, the fine river up which they had come suddenly opened out fan-like, offering them five different routes onward.“Which shall it be, Brace?” said Sir Humphrey, as he stood up with his brother in the bows. “If the enemy is following us he is as likely to take one as the other.”“I don’t know,” said Brace, with a laugh. “They are all beautiful. That left one seems the deepest, and the stream flows slowly, so I think we had better choose that.”“Best too for the wind,” said Briscoe. “There’s a ripple up it as far as we can see.”“It’s to the left and not to the right,” said Brace.“All the better,” said Briscoe, laughing. “You know what you English folks say about driving: ‘If you go to the left you are sure to be right; if you go to the right you’ll be wrong.’ I think we might well stick to that rule in this case.”The left branch was chosen, and they sailed swiftly up it, finding to their surprise that there was scarcely any appearance of current, and soon after a suitable spot for a landing-place presented itself in one of the many bends of the river’s sinuous course.Here they landed, and Dan was soon busy preparing food, while as far as they could make out they were where human foot had never pressed the soil before.
The long light canoes of the approaching Indians were well manned, and as they came nearer Brace could see that most of the occupants wore a kind of tiara made of the tail feathers of parrots or macaws. Several held spears or bows, but the major part were busy paddling, and they came down with the stream, evidently full of fierce determination to destroy or capture the strange intruders upon their solitudes, striving hard to increase the speed of their canoes, which were in a well-kept line.
There was no time for the discussion of plans, for the distance between the brig’s boats and the enemy was rapidly growing less.
“One wouldn’t have time to prepare anything if one wanted to,” said the captain, after a sharp glance forward. “Will you leave it to me, gentlemen, to do my best?”
“Of course,” said Sir Humphrey, and Briscoe nodded from where he knelt, with his double gun held ready in his hand.
“Then here goes,” said the captain. “Ahoy there, Dellow; clap on all you can, take the tiller yourself; and run one of the canoes down. Let your lads knock all over who try to board you.”
“Ay, ay!” came back in answer from the second boat.
“Now, Lynton,” continued the captain, “steer for that canoe in the centre. We’re going faster than they are. You, gentlemen, don’t shoot, but use the butt-ends of your rifles if we should happen to get to close quarters. Every man take an oar or boathook, and use ’em like as if they were whaling-lances. Ready? Look out!”
Their boat, with the sail straining at the sheet, was now rushing through the water, the side not two inches above the surface, as she raced for the centre of the line of canoes.
“Sit fast!” roared the captain. “Down with you, Mr Brace, or you’ll be overboard.”
Brace, who had risen in his excitement so as to be able to club his gun, dropped down on to the seat at once.
Then from in front as their own boat seemed to be standing absolutely still and the line of canoes dashing rapidly at them with the paddles churning up the water on either side, there was a fierce yelling, a gleam of opal-rimmed eyes, a crash which made the boat quiver from stem to stern. The sail jerked and snapped as if it were going to fall over the side, and then they were past the centre canoe, sailing on as fast as ever.
Lynton had done his work well, steering so that he drove the boat’s iron-protected cut-water right upon the centre canoe’s bows diagonally some six feet from the front, when for a few brief moments their progress seemed to be stopped. Directly afterwards the occupants of the stoutly-built boat felt her gliding right over the canoe, which rolled like a log of wood, and then the men were cheering as they looked back at the glistening bottom of the long vessel and six or eight black heads bobbing about in the water.
Crash, grind, and there was another canoe capsized, literally rolled over by the second boat, which seemed to those in the first to rise and glide over the crank dug-out, now beginning to float broadside on with her crew swimming to her side.
A hearty cheer rose now from Dellow and his men, which was echoed from the first boat, as the distance between the party and their fierce enemies rapidly increased.
“You did that splendidly, captain!” cried Brace excitedly.
“Tidy, sir, tidy,” was the reply; “but these boats weren’t built for steeplechasing in South American rivers. Let’s see what damage is done. I don’t suppose we’re much hurt.”
The captain stepped from thwart to thwart as he spoke, and, getting right forward, he leaned over the bows and carefully examined as far as he could reach, before raising his face again and turning to Brace, who had followed him, to now meet his eyes with an enquiring look.
“Right as a trivet,” he said. “Took off some of the varnish; that’s all that I can see. Ahoy! what damage, Dellow?” he roared to the mate in the boat astern.
There was no reply for a minute or so whilst the first mate examined his boat.
Then came a shout, in Dellow’s familiar tones:
“Twopenn’orth o’ paint gone, and a bit of a splintery crack in the top plank.”
“Any leakage?”
“Not a doo-drop, sir,” was the reply.
“Well done. Keep close up abreast,” shouted the captain; and, now that the safety of the boats was assured, attention was directed to the canoes, which were being rapidly left astern.
“They seem to be trying to right their craft,” said Sir Humphrey, who, like Briscoe, was making observations with his pocket glass.
“Yes,” added Briscoe, “and they turned them over quite easily, but their sides are down flush with the water.”
“The men have got in again, and they appear to be splashing out the water with their paddles,” said Sir Humphrey.
“That’s right,” said Briscoe, “and the other canoes have ranged up alongside. I can see quite plainly: there’s a canoe on each side of the injured ones to keep them up.”
“It’s my belief that they may bale till all’s blue before they get ’em to float. Those dug-outs are worked till they get ’em as thin and light as they can, and if we haven’t cut a good gap in each one’s side, it’s a rum one,” growled the captain. “What are they doing now, sir? It’s rather far to see, but it seems to me that they’re trying to get the sunken canoes to the shore.”
“Yes: that’s just what they are trying to do,” cried Sir Humphrey. “Oh, yes, I can see that plain enough.”
“Then they won’t follow us up to-day, gentlemen,” said the captain; “and perhaps we may not see them again. Might like to sail back, p’r’aps, Mr Briscoe,” he continued, “and give the copperskins a friendly word about hope they’re not damaged, and then settle down in the shallows for a good afternoon’s gold-washing.”
“Not to-day, thankye, skipper,” said the American drily. “It might be teaching the savages how to catch the gold fever, as you called it, and be bad for their health.”
“P’r’aps so,” said the captain, with a peculiarly grim look and a glance round at the crew; “and they’ll be better employed gumming up those holes in the sides of the canoes.”
“Do you think they’ll pursue us, captain?” said Brace.
“Most likely, sir,” was the cheerful reply. “They’ll be wanting to bring us the bill for damages. I’m thinking it would be the safest thing to try and drop down by ’em after dusk. This part begins to be rather unsafe.”
He looked at Sir Humphrey as he spoke, and the latter turned to his brother.
“Well, I don’t know, captain,” he said: “the wind holds good, and we seem to have passed the danger. I don’t like to give up yet. What do you say, Mr Briscoe?”
“I think it would be a hundred pities,” was the quick reply. “The country is getting more and more attractive. Who knows what we may discover, eh, Brace?”
“I feel exactly as you do, and think we should proceed,” said the latter quickly.
“We’ve got whole skins now,” said the captain dubiously, “all but one of us.”
“You think it running too much risk to go on?” said Sir Humphrey.
“Well, I can’t say that, sir,” was the reply, “because we may sail on for weeks and weeks and not see another Indian, while if we go back we are sure to see some.”
“Exactly,” said Sir Humphrey; “but I can’t help thinking that we are getting now into a more uninhabited part of the country, perhaps where travellers have never been before.”
“Then I say let’s go on,” said Briscoe, “and we may find El Dorado, after all.”
“El Dorado or no El Dorado, I say don’t let’s give up yet,” said Brace. “Let’s keep on till we are obliged to go back to the brig for stores; and by that time we shall know whether it is worth while to come up here again.”
“That’s good advice, sir,” said the captain, smiling at Brace as he spoke. “I don’t want to give up: I like it as well as you do. There’s only one thing wherrits me.”
“What’s that?” said Brace.
“My brig. I lay awake for a good ten minutes last night thinking about what we should all feel if we got back to where we left her and found that the old ‘Jason’ had dragged her anchors and navigated herself out to sea.”
“Oh, but if she had dragged her anchors, captain,” said Brace, “they’d lay hold again somewhere lower down.”
“Yes, sir,” said the captain drily; “that’s what comforted me. All right, gentlemen. On we go then. I’m thinking now that after the lesson we gave those gentlemen to-day they mayn’t care to meddle with us again.”
“Do you think any of them were killed?” said Brace.
“Hardly, sir. Certainly not with the buckshot. If any of them lost the number of their mess it would be just now in the river.”
“Drowned?”
“Oh, no. They swim like seals. It would be through some of the natives below: old friends of theirs.”
Brace felt a shudder run through him as he glanced down over the side, where the water glided deep and dark now from where they were sailing to the tree-clothed shore.
But the conversation took another turn then, the captain proposing that a good midday meal should be eaten now, and no halt made till a suitable well-screened resting-place was reached about an hour before dusk.
“Why not keep right on till it is quite dusk?” said Sir Humphrey.
“He means so that we can land and light our fire in the forest, do our cooking, and put it out again before it’s dark, when it would show our position to any prowling natives,” said Briscoe.
“That’s right,” said the captain.
These tactics were carried out, a strong wind wafting the boats along mile after mile to a far greater distance than any amount of paddling would bring canoes in pursuit; and fortune favoured them far more, for, just about the time decided upon, the fine river up which they had come suddenly opened out fan-like, offering them five different routes onward.
“Which shall it be, Brace?” said Sir Humphrey, as he stood up with his brother in the bows. “If the enemy is following us he is as likely to take one as the other.”
“I don’t know,” said Brace, with a laugh. “They are all beautiful. That left one seems the deepest, and the stream flows slowly, so I think we had better choose that.”
“Best too for the wind,” said Briscoe. “There’s a ripple up it as far as we can see.”
“It’s to the left and not to the right,” said Brace.
“All the better,” said Briscoe, laughing. “You know what you English folks say about driving: ‘If you go to the left you are sure to be right; if you go to the right you’ll be wrong.’ I think we might well stick to that rule in this case.”
The left branch was chosen, and they sailed swiftly up it, finding to their surprise that there was scarcely any appearance of current, and soon after a suitable spot for a landing-place presented itself in one of the many bends of the river’s sinuous course.
Here they landed, and Dan was soon busy preparing food, while as far as they could make out they were where human foot had never pressed the soil before.
Chapter Thirty Three.The Sound of Many Waters.The fire was carefully extinguished before night-fall, so that no flash or gleam might betray the adventurers’ whereabouts to any prowling foe, and watch was set in each boat after they had been moored about twenty feet from the shore. Everything had been made snug, arms issued round and loaded ready, and once more sleep came to all save Brace and his American companion, who sat together for a good hour, gazing into the forest gloom and listening to the many strange sounds which rose among the dense growth.Then sleep overtook them, just when they were vainly trying to puzzle out the meaning of a strange booming roar, which sounded not unlike thunder at a distance.“I guess that’s what it is,” Briscoe had said. “That’s the nearest I can get to it. Maybe there’s a clump of mountains not very far away, and they’ve got a storm there.”“We shall know in the morning,” said Brace. “If it’s a storm the water will have risen in the night.”“Let it,” said Briscoe drowsily. “We’re in shelter, and the boats will rise, so it will not matter to us.”The next minute both were asleep, and the night passed tranquilly enough till they were awakened by Lynton, who had the morning watch.“What is it?” said Brace confusedly: “time to get up?”“Yes, if you don’t want to be scratched out of the boat. Look sharp, please. We’re going to get the awning down.”It was quite time, as Brace found on getting his eyes well opened, for the boat was tugging at her moorings, the awning rigged up overnight for shelter was close up among the leafage beneath a bough of the tree to which the rope was made fast; and, instead of the water upon which they floated being like that of a placid lake as it had seemed overnight, it was now rushing rapidly by the boat’s sides.“What is the meaning of this?” asked Brace excitedly.“Storm up in the hills somewhere,” replied Lynton gruffly. “Water’s rising fast.”“Mind what you’re about there, Dellow, or you’ll be capsized,” shouted the captain to the first mate. “Make all snug, and keep the boat clear of the trees.”“Ay, ay, sir,” came from the other boat, and a few minutes later the mooring-lines were cast off, while the men in each boat lay on their oars, and then as they began to drift swiftly with the rushing waters, a few strokes were given to get well clear of all overhanging branches before the grapnels were let go, but refused for some minutes to get a sufficiently good hold of the bottom.Finally, however, they caught, plenty of line was let out, and they swung head to stream, dividing the water that rushed by and sending it off in elongated waves.“That’s better,” said the captain; “but we must be ready, for I doubt whether these little grapnels will hold long.”“Why not let the boats go?” said Brace. “It’s all interesting to glide along a fresh river.”“Because we may be swept no one knows where, my lad. Steering’s hard work in such a rapid as this. Besides, we may get into bad company—uprooted trees, floating islands of weeds, and all sorts of things that would make nothing of capsizing us. No; it will be best to wait here till the flood begins to fall. I daresay you gentlemen can manage to amuse yourselves somehow.”“I daresay we can,” said Briscoe, lighting up one of his long cigars to have as an early breakfast; “but isn’t this all wrong?”“What?” said the captain sharply, for he was fully upon his mettle in a position which called for all his care. “What’s all wrong?”“Why, the way the water runs. It’s just the opposite way to which it was going yesterday.”“That’s right,” replied the captain; “but it’s coming down one or other of the rivers we came to last night with a rush and piling up faster than the main stream will carry it off. It must go somewhere, and some of it rushes along here. Strikes me that the whole country will be under water soon. Look, it’s rising fast up the tree-trunks. We shall have to take great care, or we shall be drawn right in among the trees.”“Ah, that would be awkward,” said Briscoe drily, “to find the water suddenly go down and leave the boats up in the tree-tops like a couple of big birds’ nests.”“Ahoy! Look out, Dellow!” yelled the captain. “Stand by, my lads, to shove her off, or she’ll break us away. Hah! I thought so.”For the second boat had suddenly been swept from her anchorage and come rapidly down upon the first. The men tried their hardest to ease her off, but she came into collision with so sharp a shock that the bigger boat was jerked free from her moorings and began to glide with the swift current, dragging her grapnel after her, till the captain gave orders for it to be hauled in.“Row!” he shouted, and the men dipped their oars into the water with a steady stroke, keeping the boat’s prow head to stream as she dropped down stern foremost between two mighty walls of verdure, while on either side it was plain to see that the trunks of the huge forest monarchs were being flooded many feet up.“There’s nothing else for it, sir,” said the captain to Sir Humphrey. “You’ll be seeing what the country’s like, and by-and-by as the water drains off I daresay we can ride easily back with the current quite the other way.”“And what about capsizing?” said Briscoe.“That’s my look-out, sir,” said the captain gruffly. “Capsizing means feeding the fish, and I’ve a great objection to being used for that purpose, without taking into consideration my duty to my passengers and men.”He met Brace’s eyes as he spoke, his own twinkling with a drily humorous look, and nothing more was said.The adventure was exciting enough, for the boats rode on rapidly through the forest, the river, which was comparatively narrow, winding and doubling in the way peculiar to water making its way through a flat country. For now all appeared to be one dead level, with the trees on either side much of a height. Every now and then it was as if they had been swept by the heavy stream into a lake whose end was right in front, but invariably as they were gliding straight for a huge bank of trees the river curved round to right or left, opening out into some fresh bend of its serpentine course, but there was no alteration in their rate of speed.“It can’t last very much longer, though,” said Briscoe. “Why, we’re going along just like two corks in a gully.”“Yes,” said Brace, who had been watching the movements of a troop of monkeys passing along through the trees on their left. “It’s all very well now, but if this is to go on after dark we are bound to come to grief.”“No,” said Briscoe drily. “The skipper won’t risk it. He’ll pick his place and run us in among the tree-trunks before sunset. He’s a dry old chap, but the longer I’m with him the safer I feel.”The American was quite right, for just when the sun was disappearing behind the trees their leader took advantage of a whirling eddy at a bend of the stream, called upon the men to pull with all their might, and, steering himself; he deftly ran the boat right into the gloom amongst the enormous tree-trunks, where the water was running fast, but it was comparative stillness after the torrent-like rush in the open river.Here they moored the boats for the night, and, after partaking of a much-needed meal, sleep once more came with the intense darkness, all but the watch resting as calmly as if the sound of many waters lulled them through the night.
The fire was carefully extinguished before night-fall, so that no flash or gleam might betray the adventurers’ whereabouts to any prowling foe, and watch was set in each boat after they had been moored about twenty feet from the shore. Everything had been made snug, arms issued round and loaded ready, and once more sleep came to all save Brace and his American companion, who sat together for a good hour, gazing into the forest gloom and listening to the many strange sounds which rose among the dense growth.
Then sleep overtook them, just when they were vainly trying to puzzle out the meaning of a strange booming roar, which sounded not unlike thunder at a distance.
“I guess that’s what it is,” Briscoe had said. “That’s the nearest I can get to it. Maybe there’s a clump of mountains not very far away, and they’ve got a storm there.”
“We shall know in the morning,” said Brace. “If it’s a storm the water will have risen in the night.”
“Let it,” said Briscoe drowsily. “We’re in shelter, and the boats will rise, so it will not matter to us.”
The next minute both were asleep, and the night passed tranquilly enough till they were awakened by Lynton, who had the morning watch.
“What is it?” said Brace confusedly: “time to get up?”
“Yes, if you don’t want to be scratched out of the boat. Look sharp, please. We’re going to get the awning down.”
It was quite time, as Brace found on getting his eyes well opened, for the boat was tugging at her moorings, the awning rigged up overnight for shelter was close up among the leafage beneath a bough of the tree to which the rope was made fast; and, instead of the water upon which they floated being like that of a placid lake as it had seemed overnight, it was now rushing rapidly by the boat’s sides.
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Brace excitedly.
“Storm up in the hills somewhere,” replied Lynton gruffly. “Water’s rising fast.”
“Mind what you’re about there, Dellow, or you’ll be capsized,” shouted the captain to the first mate. “Make all snug, and keep the boat clear of the trees.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” came from the other boat, and a few minutes later the mooring-lines were cast off, while the men in each boat lay on their oars, and then as they began to drift swiftly with the rushing waters, a few strokes were given to get well clear of all overhanging branches before the grapnels were let go, but refused for some minutes to get a sufficiently good hold of the bottom.
Finally, however, they caught, plenty of line was let out, and they swung head to stream, dividing the water that rushed by and sending it off in elongated waves.
“That’s better,” said the captain; “but we must be ready, for I doubt whether these little grapnels will hold long.”
“Why not let the boats go?” said Brace. “It’s all interesting to glide along a fresh river.”
“Because we may be swept no one knows where, my lad. Steering’s hard work in such a rapid as this. Besides, we may get into bad company—uprooted trees, floating islands of weeds, and all sorts of things that would make nothing of capsizing us. No; it will be best to wait here till the flood begins to fall. I daresay you gentlemen can manage to amuse yourselves somehow.”
“I daresay we can,” said Briscoe, lighting up one of his long cigars to have as an early breakfast; “but isn’t this all wrong?”
“What?” said the captain sharply, for he was fully upon his mettle in a position which called for all his care. “What’s all wrong?”
“Why, the way the water runs. It’s just the opposite way to which it was going yesterday.”
“That’s right,” replied the captain; “but it’s coming down one or other of the rivers we came to last night with a rush and piling up faster than the main stream will carry it off. It must go somewhere, and some of it rushes along here. Strikes me that the whole country will be under water soon. Look, it’s rising fast up the tree-trunks. We shall have to take great care, or we shall be drawn right in among the trees.”
“Ah, that would be awkward,” said Briscoe drily, “to find the water suddenly go down and leave the boats up in the tree-tops like a couple of big birds’ nests.”
“Ahoy! Look out, Dellow!” yelled the captain. “Stand by, my lads, to shove her off, or she’ll break us away. Hah! I thought so.”
For the second boat had suddenly been swept from her anchorage and come rapidly down upon the first. The men tried their hardest to ease her off, but she came into collision with so sharp a shock that the bigger boat was jerked free from her moorings and began to glide with the swift current, dragging her grapnel after her, till the captain gave orders for it to be hauled in.
“Row!” he shouted, and the men dipped their oars into the water with a steady stroke, keeping the boat’s prow head to stream as she dropped down stern foremost between two mighty walls of verdure, while on either side it was plain to see that the trunks of the huge forest monarchs were being flooded many feet up.
“There’s nothing else for it, sir,” said the captain to Sir Humphrey. “You’ll be seeing what the country’s like, and by-and-by as the water drains off I daresay we can ride easily back with the current quite the other way.”
“And what about capsizing?” said Briscoe.
“That’s my look-out, sir,” said the captain gruffly. “Capsizing means feeding the fish, and I’ve a great objection to being used for that purpose, without taking into consideration my duty to my passengers and men.”
He met Brace’s eyes as he spoke, his own twinkling with a drily humorous look, and nothing more was said.
The adventure was exciting enough, for the boats rode on rapidly through the forest, the river, which was comparatively narrow, winding and doubling in the way peculiar to water making its way through a flat country. For now all appeared to be one dead level, with the trees on either side much of a height. Every now and then it was as if they had been swept by the heavy stream into a lake whose end was right in front, but invariably as they were gliding straight for a huge bank of trees the river curved round to right or left, opening out into some fresh bend of its serpentine course, but there was no alteration in their rate of speed.
“It can’t last very much longer, though,” said Briscoe. “Why, we’re going along just like two corks in a gully.”
“Yes,” said Brace, who had been watching the movements of a troop of monkeys passing along through the trees on their left. “It’s all very well now, but if this is to go on after dark we are bound to come to grief.”
“No,” said Briscoe drily. “The skipper won’t risk it. He’ll pick his place and run us in among the tree-trunks before sunset. He’s a dry old chap, but the longer I’m with him the safer I feel.”
The American was quite right, for just when the sun was disappearing behind the trees their leader took advantage of a whirling eddy at a bend of the stream, called upon the men to pull with all their might, and, steering himself; he deftly ran the boat right into the gloom amongst the enormous tree-trunks, where the water was running fast, but it was comparative stillness after the torrent-like rush in the open river.
Here they moored the boats for the night, and, after partaking of a much-needed meal, sleep once more came with the intense darkness, all but the watch resting as calmly as if the sound of many waters lulled them through the night.
Chapter Thirty Four.A Question of Supplies.The morning came bright and clear, and the boats were pushed off once more out of the oppressive gloom of the water-floored forest into the sunny brightness of the river, by which they were again swept on hour after hour.It was when the question of supplies was beginning to assume a serious aspect about midday that there was a change in the monotonous windings of the river, which suddenly forked, and, the branch to the left seeming the more open, the boats were guided into that.They were carried along here as swiftly as ever for a few miles, and then the branch divided again and again, till they seemed to be passing through a very network of smaller rivers, their last change being into one whose banks, though well wooded, presented a marked change, for in place of flooded forest the banks displayed steep cliffs dotted with verdure, and in whose cracks grand trees towered up; while, after passing for miles through what rapidly grew into the likeness of a mountain defile, the helpless party had the satisfaction of finding that the current was no longer fierce, but glided along deep and dark at the rate of about four miles an hour.“Hab!” cried the captain; “this is better. Now, gentlemen, you may get your guns ready for anything worth shooting. We can easily retrieve it here, and find a place by-and-by up among the rocks on one side or the other to land and cook whatever you manage to bring down.”“Why, Brace,” said Sir Humphrey, as they glided gently along, gun in hand, watching the steep slope of cliff on their left, everywhere beautiful and in places almost perpendicular and awful in its grandeur, “this is the most beautiful part of the country we have seen.”“Don’t talk,” said Brace, in a low tone of voice. “I seem to want to watch.”“But don’t forget about the cooking,” said Briscoe, suddenly raising his gun to his shoulder. “Look out, Brace, up yonder, and watch the bushes on that shelf of rock.”He fired twice the next moment, and half a dozen large birds rose to fly across the river, one of which fell to Brace’s gun; while, the boat being run close under the rocky face of the cliff, a couple of men climbed out and crept up among the bushes, where they found that Briscoe had shot three large turkey-like birds, which would form a welcome addition to their larder.During their steady glide on, half a dozen more good-sized birds of similar and different kinds were brought down from where they were feeding upon the fruits and berries, the men’s spirits rising with their success as much as from the beauty of the winding gorge, so that the evening’s camping was looked forward to with eagerness, while the captain’s declaration that they were getting beyond the influence of the flood was received with a cheer.“You see, gentlemen, it’s like this: the flood has been acting like the tide in a river which has kept back the regular flow here, and it strikes me that before we have gone many miles farther the stream will have grown slacker and slacker till it comes almost to a standstill, and to-morrow some time we shall have it against us once more.”“Unless we turn into another stream and so get back a fresh way,” suggested Brace. “It is a wonderful network of water.”“Maybe,” said the captain; “but we don’t want to lose our bearings.”“We couldn’t if we kept on going down stream. We must reach the sea somewhere.”“That’s right enough,” said the captain drily; “but I don’t want to reach it somewhere. I want the way that leads by my brig.”“Yes,” said Briscoe, laughing. “Why, Brace, we might be getting out somewhere or other in the Pacific Ocean.”“What about crossing the Andes first?” said Brace sharply.“Oh, that would be all right. I daresay we could keep on rising till we found a way through-place where the watershed runs, as the learned chaps say.”He had hardly spoken before Brace caught him by the arm, gripping it strongly.“What is it—bird?”“No,” said Brace, in a hoarse whisper. “I caught sight of a canoe gliding along under the rocks on the farther shore.”“Did you?” said Briscoe coolly. “Well, I’m not surprised. The Indians would be fools if some of them didn’t come and live along here. It’s about the most beautiful place I ever saw.”“I can see it now,” said Sir Humphrey, looking through his glass. “There are four Indians in it with feather crowns on their heads. I don’t think they have seen us till now, for they are paddling the other way.”“Then I tell you what: let’s lie-to under the trees here,” said the captain. “There’s a level bit about fifty feet up like a shelf in yon bit of a gully. I had my eye upon that directly, and down here we can lie up quite snugly. Let’s have a quiet night somehow, and go on to-morrow morning to see whether the Indians mean to be friends or foes. See ’em still, Sir Humphrey?”“No,” was the reply; “they have gone right out of sight.”“Then now have the goodness to use your glass well, and sweep all the shelves up the farther shore to see if you can make out any sign of an Indian village, sir. Seems a wonderfully likely place for people to be living.”At that moment there was a heavy splash as a large silvery fish flung itself completely out of the water and then fell back, while the noise it made startled a covey of ducks, which went fluttering and paddling up stream.“Must be inhabitants here, I should say,” exclaimed the American, shading his eyes with his hand. “A bit shut in and shady, but all the better in a tropical country: why, it’s lovely. Here, gentlemen, I’m getting a bit tired of being cramped up in a boat. I vote we call this Golden Valley and come and live here for a year or two.”“To hunt for the Golden City?” said Brace mischievously.“Oh, no,” said Briscoe quietly; “this place makes me feel as if I didn’t want to hunt for anything, only to knock myself up a hut, or to find a sort of cave up on one of these shelves, and then just go on living like. Why, it’s a ready-made Paradise, and we seem to have pretty nearly got beyond the reach of the flood.”“Then let’s lie up here,” said the captain, “and set your Dan to work. It is very beautiful, but it will be better after we’ve had a bit of something to eat.”
The morning came bright and clear, and the boats were pushed off once more out of the oppressive gloom of the water-floored forest into the sunny brightness of the river, by which they were again swept on hour after hour.
It was when the question of supplies was beginning to assume a serious aspect about midday that there was a change in the monotonous windings of the river, which suddenly forked, and, the branch to the left seeming the more open, the boats were guided into that.
They were carried along here as swiftly as ever for a few miles, and then the branch divided again and again, till they seemed to be passing through a very network of smaller rivers, their last change being into one whose banks, though well wooded, presented a marked change, for in place of flooded forest the banks displayed steep cliffs dotted with verdure, and in whose cracks grand trees towered up; while, after passing for miles through what rapidly grew into the likeness of a mountain defile, the helpless party had the satisfaction of finding that the current was no longer fierce, but glided along deep and dark at the rate of about four miles an hour.
“Hab!” cried the captain; “this is better. Now, gentlemen, you may get your guns ready for anything worth shooting. We can easily retrieve it here, and find a place by-and-by up among the rocks on one side or the other to land and cook whatever you manage to bring down.”
“Why, Brace,” said Sir Humphrey, as they glided gently along, gun in hand, watching the steep slope of cliff on their left, everywhere beautiful and in places almost perpendicular and awful in its grandeur, “this is the most beautiful part of the country we have seen.”
“Don’t talk,” said Brace, in a low tone of voice. “I seem to want to watch.”
“But don’t forget about the cooking,” said Briscoe, suddenly raising his gun to his shoulder. “Look out, Brace, up yonder, and watch the bushes on that shelf of rock.”
He fired twice the next moment, and half a dozen large birds rose to fly across the river, one of which fell to Brace’s gun; while, the boat being run close under the rocky face of the cliff, a couple of men climbed out and crept up among the bushes, where they found that Briscoe had shot three large turkey-like birds, which would form a welcome addition to their larder.
During their steady glide on, half a dozen more good-sized birds of similar and different kinds were brought down from where they were feeding upon the fruits and berries, the men’s spirits rising with their success as much as from the beauty of the winding gorge, so that the evening’s camping was looked forward to with eagerness, while the captain’s declaration that they were getting beyond the influence of the flood was received with a cheer.
“You see, gentlemen, it’s like this: the flood has been acting like the tide in a river which has kept back the regular flow here, and it strikes me that before we have gone many miles farther the stream will have grown slacker and slacker till it comes almost to a standstill, and to-morrow some time we shall have it against us once more.”
“Unless we turn into another stream and so get back a fresh way,” suggested Brace. “It is a wonderful network of water.”
“Maybe,” said the captain; “but we don’t want to lose our bearings.”
“We couldn’t if we kept on going down stream. We must reach the sea somewhere.”
“That’s right enough,” said the captain drily; “but I don’t want to reach it somewhere. I want the way that leads by my brig.”
“Yes,” said Briscoe, laughing. “Why, Brace, we might be getting out somewhere or other in the Pacific Ocean.”
“What about crossing the Andes first?” said Brace sharply.
“Oh, that would be all right. I daresay we could keep on rising till we found a way through-place where the watershed runs, as the learned chaps say.”
He had hardly spoken before Brace caught him by the arm, gripping it strongly.
“What is it—bird?”
“No,” said Brace, in a hoarse whisper. “I caught sight of a canoe gliding along under the rocks on the farther shore.”
“Did you?” said Briscoe coolly. “Well, I’m not surprised. The Indians would be fools if some of them didn’t come and live along here. It’s about the most beautiful place I ever saw.”
“I can see it now,” said Sir Humphrey, looking through his glass. “There are four Indians in it with feather crowns on their heads. I don’t think they have seen us till now, for they are paddling the other way.”
“Then I tell you what: let’s lie-to under the trees here,” said the captain. “There’s a level bit about fifty feet up like a shelf in yon bit of a gully. I had my eye upon that directly, and down here we can lie up quite snugly. Let’s have a quiet night somehow, and go on to-morrow morning to see whether the Indians mean to be friends or foes. See ’em still, Sir Humphrey?”
“No,” was the reply; “they have gone right out of sight.”
“Then now have the goodness to use your glass well, and sweep all the shelves up the farther shore to see if you can make out any sign of an Indian village, sir. Seems a wonderfully likely place for people to be living.”
At that moment there was a heavy splash as a large silvery fish flung itself completely out of the water and then fell back, while the noise it made startled a covey of ducks, which went fluttering and paddling up stream.
“Must be inhabitants here, I should say,” exclaimed the American, shading his eyes with his hand. “A bit shut in and shady, but all the better in a tropical country: why, it’s lovely. Here, gentlemen, I’m getting a bit tired of being cramped up in a boat. I vote we call this Golden Valley and come and live here for a year or two.”
“To hunt for the Golden City?” said Brace mischievously.
“Oh, no,” said Briscoe quietly; “this place makes me feel as if I didn’t want to hunt for anything, only to knock myself up a hut, or to find a sort of cave up on one of these shelves, and then just go on living like. Why, it’s a ready-made Paradise, and we seem to have pretty nearly got beyond the reach of the flood.”
“Then let’s lie up here,” said the captain, “and set your Dan to work. It is very beautiful, but it will be better after we’ve had a bit of something to eat.”
Chapter Thirty Five.Night in the Cañon.There was a murmur of approval all through the boat, and soon after the lines were made fast ashore, and Brace was one of the first to climb up to the level shelf the captain had marked out. From here he could command a view of the river banks for quite a mile before the narrow cañon curved, and they loveliness of the place was so surpassing that he stood speechless, forgetting everything in the beauty of the scene, green and golden in the level rays of the sun, with every here and there the shadows deepening into violet.Brace started as if out of a waking dream as a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he turned to face Briscoe.“What can you see?” said the latter, in a low voice.For answer Brace simply pointed along the cañon, and the American took a long look in silence before venturing to speak again.“Yes,” he said slowly; “very pretty, but I’m not a very sentimental man. One minute I feel as if I should like to live here, and the next I feel certain it would be too dull. Can’t see any more signs of the Indians, can you?”“No,” said Brace.“What sort of a place have you got here? Oh! that’s all right; quite a cavern there. Do splendidly for Dan and the boys to make the fire in, out of sight, for we don’t want it to bring down strangers upon us. Let’s have a look.”Brace had not noticed any cavern, but now his attention was drawn to it he saw at the back of the shelf that there was a broad rift in the cliff, some ten or a dozen feet wide and seven or eight high, while upon entering it was to find that they could look forward into darkness of unknown depth, while the roof seemed to rise as it receded.“Looks big,” said Briscoe, raising his gun as if to fire.“You had better not shoot,” said Brace, laying his hand upon his companion’s arm. “It would raise echoes all along the cañon, and perhaps bring down the Indians.”“Quite right; but let’s see what’s here. Might be a jaguar or something of that kind. Aha, there! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!”The cry ran echoing into the chasm far enough, and was followed by the sound as of a rushing wind approaching them. Directly after a cloud of largish birds, somewhat like the British nightjar in appearance, came swooping by, separating as soon as they were outside, and making for the forest patches across the canon.“Do you know them?” said Briscoe, turning round to Brace.“No: some kind of bird that goes to roost there, I suppose.”“Yes; they roost and breed and live there,” said Briscoe. “They’re night-birds, and we’ve started them before their usual feeding-time. Those are the South American oil-birds.”“Yes, I remember,” cried Brace. “They breed in the caves round Trinidad, I’ve read.”“That’s right. Well, we don’t want to try whether they’re good to eat. This way, my lads,” he continued, as Dan and three of the men came up to make the fire and start cooking. “Make your kitchen right in here.”This was done, and soon after, as the night fell, the interior of the cave glowed brightly, showing something of its dimensions, and that it extended far into the mountain.The question was discussed whether it would not be wise to make it their resting-place for the night, affording as it did a roomy shelter such as would make a very welcome change for people who had been cramped up so long in the narrow dimensions of the boats.But the captain objected, wisely enough, to leaving his boats entirely unguarded, so a compromise was come to, and it was decided that half of each boat’s party were to remain below, while the others took possession of the cavern.The settling of the boats close in shore beneath some overhanging bushes occupied some little time, as well as the carrying up of the necessaries required by those who were to sleep above. By that time Dan’s frizzled legs, wings, and slices of bird had been made ready for consumption, and he and his mates worked hard to supply the hungry party. At length, all were satisfied, and they divided to seek their resting-places for the night, Sir Humphrey electing to keep the captain and the first mate company in the boats, while Brace, Briscoe, and Lynton were to rest in the cavern with half of the crew.As a matter of course, everyone who remained on shore was provided with weapons, and they all sat together chatting till the fire gradually died out and the sailors stretched their limbs with a grunt of satisfaction upon the soft dry sand which formed the floor of the cave.“What do you say to a quiet smoke on the shelf outside, Lynton?” said Briscoe.“I’m as willing as willing, for I don’t feel at all sleepy yet,” was the answer.“Yes: let’s have a look at the stars and the river before we lie down,” said Brace; and they strode quietly out till they were at the extreme edge of the shelf, with the black darkness below them and the river sparkling and spangled with the reflections of the stars which glowed brilliantly in a long wide band overhead, the cliffs cutting off a vast amount of the great arch.“I’m glad that fire’s well out,” said Briscoe quietly, as he looked back. “Indians are not very likely to be about at night, but if a canoe were coming along the river and the paddlers saw a fire up there, you may depend upon it they would land to see what was the matter.”“That’s for certain,” said Lynton. “Do you think it likely that those chaps we ran down belong to the same tribe as those we saw in the canoe yonder before we landed?”“It’s hardly likely,” said Briscoe. “I fancy the natives of these regions are cut up into little bits of tribes scattered here, there, and everywhere about the forest.”“Pst! Be quiet a minute,” said Brace, and all listened.“What is it?” asked Briscoe, at the end of a minute.“I heard a peculiar noise while you were speaking, but it is still now.”“Birds—night-birds,” said Briscoe. “Our friends of the cavern grumbling because we’ve turned them out.”“Oh, no; I don’t fancy it was that,” said Brace hurriedly. “It sounded like human voices singing in chorus.”“Our fellows below in the boat,” said Lynton, “only they wouldn’t be singing.”“Oh, no; it was not that,” said Brace.“Might be anything,” said Briscoe, yawning. “Frogs, perhaps, down by the water-side.”“No: I’m pretty well used to the night sounds we hear,” said Brace impatiently. “Ah, there it is: listen.”He was silent, and as if reflected from the cliff there came a low musical sound, very soft and sweet, and, as he said, as if many voices were raised far away in a kind of chorus which reverberated from the sides of the cañon, reaching in a soft murmur to where they stood listening.“H’m!” ejaculated Briscoe, after listening till the sound died softly away. “Can’t be any band having a concert on the next street.”“And I should say it isn’t a boating party returning down the river from an outing, singing glees,” said Lynton.“I’ve heard of singing-fish,” said Brace. “There’s not likely to be anything of that kind in the river, is there?”“No,” replied Lynton decidedly. “I’ve heard them out at sea sometimes, when we’ve been in a calm among the islands.”“More like to be a kind of frog,” put in Briscoe. “There are some which whistle and pipe in chorus very softly; but—”The sound came swelling down the canon more loudly, and the speaker stopped short to listen, till the tones once more died away.“That’s not frogs in chorus,” said Briscoe decisively. “Anyone would think there was an abbey somewhere near, and the nuns were singing hymns; only it’s impossible, of course.”“Impossible, of course,” said Brace softly. “There: it is gone again.”The three men stood listening and straining their ears in the direction from which the sounds had come, but there was a faint whispering as of running water down below, a trickling gurgle, and then startlingly loud came the nasalquantof some night-heron at the water’s side.This was answered twice at a distance, while again and again overhead there was the flutter and swish of wings, probably those of the oil-birds circling about the mouth of the cavern.“It’s all over,” said Briscoe at last, “and it’s night-birds of some kind, I believe. Here, I’ve been listening so intently that I’ve forgotten my cigar. I’ll go in and light it again with one of the bits of smouldering wood.”He left his two companions, and they heard his footsteps as he went softly into the cavern to reach the fire.“Does it make you feel queer like, Mr Brace?” whispered Lynton.“Well, it sets me wondering, and makes me a little uncomfortable as to what the sound can be,” replied Brace.“So it does me, sir. Always makes me feel queer if I don’t understand what a noise is. I’m a bit of a coward, I’m afraid.”“I’ve never seen any signs of it yet, Lynton,” said Brace, laughing softly.“Oh, but I am, sir. That sound made me feel hot and then cold. I say, I’ve lost count about the points of the compass, but that’s plain enough yonder across and up the river. That’s the east, and the moon coming up.”“That?” said Brace, as he gazed in the direction named. “Yes, I suppose so. It will be very beautiful when the moon rises over the mountain there and lights up the great cañon. I feel disposed to wait till it shines on the river.”“Moon!” said Briscoe, who had returned unheard, smoking vigorously, and looking in the darkness as if a firefly were gliding to their side. “We shan’t see the moon to-night. It must have set a couple of hours ago.”“Of course,” said Brace, “and that can’t be the east. I should say it’s the west.”“What, where that—I say, what light is that over there?”“Yes, what can it be?” said Brace, as he gazed at the soft glow. “It can’t be a forest fire.”“No: if it were we should see clouds of smoke between us and the stars, and they’re clear right down to the top of the mountain. Why, Brace, there must be a volcano here, and that’s the reflection from the glowing lava. I’ve seen something like that in the Sandwich Islands.”“I’ll go and tell my brother,” said Brace. “No; perhaps he’s asleep, and it would be awkward for him to get up here in the dark.”“And you couldn’t get him up in time,” said Lynton. “Look: it’s dying out fast. There: it’s gone now.”“Yes,” said Brace, in a very low whisper. “How strange!”“Sort of afterglow,” muttered Briscoe; “only it’s a long time after the sunset. Well, gentlemen, I’m for bed. The scene is over and the lights are out. What do you say?”Brace said nothing, but he followed his companion into the cave and sleep came soon after—the sound, easy sleep enjoyed in the open air, for the night breeze played softly in at the open mouth of the cave, and there was nothing to disturb the party till the fire began to crackle soon after daybreak.
There was a murmur of approval all through the boat, and soon after the lines were made fast ashore, and Brace was one of the first to climb up to the level shelf the captain had marked out. From here he could command a view of the river banks for quite a mile before the narrow cañon curved, and they loveliness of the place was so surpassing that he stood speechless, forgetting everything in the beauty of the scene, green and golden in the level rays of the sun, with every here and there the shadows deepening into violet.
Brace started as if out of a waking dream as a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he turned to face Briscoe.
“What can you see?” said the latter, in a low voice.
For answer Brace simply pointed along the cañon, and the American took a long look in silence before venturing to speak again.
“Yes,” he said slowly; “very pretty, but I’m not a very sentimental man. One minute I feel as if I should like to live here, and the next I feel certain it would be too dull. Can’t see any more signs of the Indians, can you?”
“No,” said Brace.
“What sort of a place have you got here? Oh! that’s all right; quite a cavern there. Do splendidly for Dan and the boys to make the fire in, out of sight, for we don’t want it to bring down strangers upon us. Let’s have a look.”
Brace had not noticed any cavern, but now his attention was drawn to it he saw at the back of the shelf that there was a broad rift in the cliff, some ten or a dozen feet wide and seven or eight high, while upon entering it was to find that they could look forward into darkness of unknown depth, while the roof seemed to rise as it receded.
“Looks big,” said Briscoe, raising his gun as if to fire.
“You had better not shoot,” said Brace, laying his hand upon his companion’s arm. “It would raise echoes all along the cañon, and perhaps bring down the Indians.”
“Quite right; but let’s see what’s here. Might be a jaguar or something of that kind. Aha, there! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!”
The cry ran echoing into the chasm far enough, and was followed by the sound as of a rushing wind approaching them. Directly after a cloud of largish birds, somewhat like the British nightjar in appearance, came swooping by, separating as soon as they were outside, and making for the forest patches across the canon.
“Do you know them?” said Briscoe, turning round to Brace.
“No: some kind of bird that goes to roost there, I suppose.”
“Yes; they roost and breed and live there,” said Briscoe. “They’re night-birds, and we’ve started them before their usual feeding-time. Those are the South American oil-birds.”
“Yes, I remember,” cried Brace. “They breed in the caves round Trinidad, I’ve read.”
“That’s right. Well, we don’t want to try whether they’re good to eat. This way, my lads,” he continued, as Dan and three of the men came up to make the fire and start cooking. “Make your kitchen right in here.”
This was done, and soon after, as the night fell, the interior of the cave glowed brightly, showing something of its dimensions, and that it extended far into the mountain.
The question was discussed whether it would not be wise to make it their resting-place for the night, affording as it did a roomy shelter such as would make a very welcome change for people who had been cramped up so long in the narrow dimensions of the boats.
But the captain objected, wisely enough, to leaving his boats entirely unguarded, so a compromise was come to, and it was decided that half of each boat’s party were to remain below, while the others took possession of the cavern.
The settling of the boats close in shore beneath some overhanging bushes occupied some little time, as well as the carrying up of the necessaries required by those who were to sleep above. By that time Dan’s frizzled legs, wings, and slices of bird had been made ready for consumption, and he and his mates worked hard to supply the hungry party. At length, all were satisfied, and they divided to seek their resting-places for the night, Sir Humphrey electing to keep the captain and the first mate company in the boats, while Brace, Briscoe, and Lynton were to rest in the cavern with half of the crew.
As a matter of course, everyone who remained on shore was provided with weapons, and they all sat together chatting till the fire gradually died out and the sailors stretched their limbs with a grunt of satisfaction upon the soft dry sand which formed the floor of the cave.
“What do you say to a quiet smoke on the shelf outside, Lynton?” said Briscoe.
“I’m as willing as willing, for I don’t feel at all sleepy yet,” was the answer.
“Yes: let’s have a look at the stars and the river before we lie down,” said Brace; and they strode quietly out till they were at the extreme edge of the shelf, with the black darkness below them and the river sparkling and spangled with the reflections of the stars which glowed brilliantly in a long wide band overhead, the cliffs cutting off a vast amount of the great arch.
“I’m glad that fire’s well out,” said Briscoe quietly, as he looked back. “Indians are not very likely to be about at night, but if a canoe were coming along the river and the paddlers saw a fire up there, you may depend upon it they would land to see what was the matter.”
“That’s for certain,” said Lynton. “Do you think it likely that those chaps we ran down belong to the same tribe as those we saw in the canoe yonder before we landed?”
“It’s hardly likely,” said Briscoe. “I fancy the natives of these regions are cut up into little bits of tribes scattered here, there, and everywhere about the forest.”
“Pst! Be quiet a minute,” said Brace, and all listened.
“What is it?” asked Briscoe, at the end of a minute.
“I heard a peculiar noise while you were speaking, but it is still now.”
“Birds—night-birds,” said Briscoe. “Our friends of the cavern grumbling because we’ve turned them out.”
“Oh, no; I don’t fancy it was that,” said Brace hurriedly. “It sounded like human voices singing in chorus.”
“Our fellows below in the boat,” said Lynton, “only they wouldn’t be singing.”
“Oh, no; it was not that,” said Brace.
“Might be anything,” said Briscoe, yawning. “Frogs, perhaps, down by the water-side.”
“No: I’m pretty well used to the night sounds we hear,” said Brace impatiently. “Ah, there it is: listen.”
He was silent, and as if reflected from the cliff there came a low musical sound, very soft and sweet, and, as he said, as if many voices were raised far away in a kind of chorus which reverberated from the sides of the cañon, reaching in a soft murmur to where they stood listening.
“H’m!” ejaculated Briscoe, after listening till the sound died softly away. “Can’t be any band having a concert on the next street.”
“And I should say it isn’t a boating party returning down the river from an outing, singing glees,” said Lynton.
“I’ve heard of singing-fish,” said Brace. “There’s not likely to be anything of that kind in the river, is there?”
“No,” replied Lynton decidedly. “I’ve heard them out at sea sometimes, when we’ve been in a calm among the islands.”
“More like to be a kind of frog,” put in Briscoe. “There are some which whistle and pipe in chorus very softly; but—”
The sound came swelling down the canon more loudly, and the speaker stopped short to listen, till the tones once more died away.
“That’s not frogs in chorus,” said Briscoe decisively. “Anyone would think there was an abbey somewhere near, and the nuns were singing hymns; only it’s impossible, of course.”
“Impossible, of course,” said Brace softly. “There: it is gone again.”
The three men stood listening and straining their ears in the direction from which the sounds had come, but there was a faint whispering as of running water down below, a trickling gurgle, and then startlingly loud came the nasalquantof some night-heron at the water’s side.
This was answered twice at a distance, while again and again overhead there was the flutter and swish of wings, probably those of the oil-birds circling about the mouth of the cavern.
“It’s all over,” said Briscoe at last, “and it’s night-birds of some kind, I believe. Here, I’ve been listening so intently that I’ve forgotten my cigar. I’ll go in and light it again with one of the bits of smouldering wood.”
He left his two companions, and they heard his footsteps as he went softly into the cavern to reach the fire.
“Does it make you feel queer like, Mr Brace?” whispered Lynton.
“Well, it sets me wondering, and makes me a little uncomfortable as to what the sound can be,” replied Brace.
“So it does me, sir. Always makes me feel queer if I don’t understand what a noise is. I’m a bit of a coward, I’m afraid.”
“I’ve never seen any signs of it yet, Lynton,” said Brace, laughing softly.
“Oh, but I am, sir. That sound made me feel hot and then cold. I say, I’ve lost count about the points of the compass, but that’s plain enough yonder across and up the river. That’s the east, and the moon coming up.”
“That?” said Brace, as he gazed in the direction named. “Yes, I suppose so. It will be very beautiful when the moon rises over the mountain there and lights up the great cañon. I feel disposed to wait till it shines on the river.”
“Moon!” said Briscoe, who had returned unheard, smoking vigorously, and looking in the darkness as if a firefly were gliding to their side. “We shan’t see the moon to-night. It must have set a couple of hours ago.”
“Of course,” said Brace, “and that can’t be the east. I should say it’s the west.”
“What, where that—I say, what light is that over there?”
“Yes, what can it be?” said Brace, as he gazed at the soft glow. “It can’t be a forest fire.”
“No: if it were we should see clouds of smoke between us and the stars, and they’re clear right down to the top of the mountain. Why, Brace, there must be a volcano here, and that’s the reflection from the glowing lava. I’ve seen something like that in the Sandwich Islands.”
“I’ll go and tell my brother,” said Brace. “No; perhaps he’s asleep, and it would be awkward for him to get up here in the dark.”
“And you couldn’t get him up in time,” said Lynton. “Look: it’s dying out fast. There: it’s gone now.”
“Yes,” said Brace, in a very low whisper. “How strange!”
“Sort of afterglow,” muttered Briscoe; “only it’s a long time after the sunset. Well, gentlemen, I’m for bed. The scene is over and the lights are out. What do you say?”
Brace said nothing, but he followed his companion into the cave and sleep came soon after—the sound, easy sleep enjoyed in the open air, for the night breeze played softly in at the open mouth of the cave, and there was nothing to disturb the party till the fire began to crackle soon after daybreak.