Chapter Six.Voyage on the River commenced.All was now ready for our departure from our first halting-place. Early in the morning, having carefully laden our two vessels, we embarked. John, Ellen, Maria, and Domingos went in the larger one, accompanied by Nimble and Poll, with Naro and two of his followers; while Isoro, Arthur, and I embarked in the smaller, with two of the other men. True, of course, went with us, his usual post being the bow, where he stood with his fore-feet on the gunwale, as if it were his especial duty to keep a look-out ahead. Isoro acted as captain, and Arthur and I and the two Indians, with paddles in our hands, formed the crew. Shoving off from the bank, we rapidly glided down the river, the current carrying us along at a great rate with little aid from our paddles. The large canoe took the lead, we following in her wake. The water whirled and eddied as we glided on. On either side rose the giant trees of the primeval forest—while, looking astern, we could see far away across the mighty mass of foliage the range of the Andes, with the beautiful cone of Cotopaxi standing out boldly above its fellows.We soon, however, had something else to think of. Several dark rounded rocks rose up ahead of us, between which the water furiously rushed, dashing against their sides, and throwing up clouds of spray, while whirling, boiling eddies came bursting up from the bottom, as if some subaqueous explosion were taking place. Short cross waves curled up round us, with here and there smooth intervening spaces, the more treacherous for their apparent calmness; for as we passed through them we could with difficulty keep the head of our small canoe in the direction of our leader. The Indians plied their paddles with redoubled vigour, while the helmsman of John’s canoe every now and then gave vent to loud, wild shrieks. Isoro sat calmly clenching his teeth, and looking out eagerly ahead. The large canoe went gliding on. And now we saw her passing between two rocks, over which the water dashing formed an arch of spray, almost concealing her from our sight. Presently we also were passing through the same channel. It seemed as if our small canoe would be swamped by the swelling waters. The clouds of spray which broke over her almost blinded us, the loud roaring, hissing sound of the waves as they rushed against the rocks deafened our ears, while the whirling current so confused our senses, that we could scarcely tell in what direction we were going.“O Harry, what has become of the other canoe?” exclaimed Arthur.A dark rock rose before us. No canoe was to be seen. A horror seized me. I feared that she had been engulfed. But presently, Isoro turning the head of our canoe, we shot past the rock, and to our joy again saw the other canoe rushing on with still greater speed towards another opening in the channel. We followed even faster than before. The current seemed to increase in rapidity as we advanced, pressed together by the narrower channel. Yet, fast as we went, we could scarcely keep pace with our leader. Now we glided on smoothly, now we pitched and tossed as the mimic waves rose up round us, and thus we went on, the navigation requiring the utmost watchfulness and exertion to escape destruction. We, perhaps, in our smaller canoe, were safer than those in the larger one; indeed, I thought more of them than ourselves. Should we meet with any accident, however, they could not return to help us, whereas we might push forward to their assistance. We followed the movements of the Indians. When they paddled fast, we also exerted ourselves; when they ceased, we also lifted our paddles out of the water. I was very glad that we were thus employed, as we, having plenty to do, thought less of the danger we were in.After being thus tossed about for I cannot judge how long, every moment running the risk of being dashed on the rocks, now on one side, now on the other, we found the river again widening and the current flowing on more tranquilly. In a short time, however, we came to another rapid. Once more we were amid the wild tumult of waters. The current rushed on with fearful speed. Now we saw the stern of the leading canoe lifted up, and it appeared as if her bows were going under. I could not refrain from uttering a shriek of horror. Isoro and the Indians remained calm, just guiding our canoe. John’s canoe disappeared. On we went, expecting the same fate which I dreaded had overtaken her. An instant afterwards we saw her again gliding on calmly. Downwards we slid over a watery hill, the Indians paddling with might and main, we following their example. We had descended a fall such as I should scarcely have supposed it possible so small a boat as ours could have passed over in safety. Our companions continued plying their paddles, sending out their breath in a low grunt, as if they had been holding it in for some minutes.We now came up with the other canoe, which had been waiting for us.“That was nervous work!” exclaimed John “I am thankful we are through the falls; they are the worst we shall meet with.”Paddling on till nearly dark, we landed on an island, where it was proposed we should pass the night. There were but few trees in the centre, the rest consisting of sand and rock. This spot had been selected to avoid the risk of being surprised by unfriendly natives or prowling jaguars. The canoes were hauled up, the goods landed, and fires were lighted, round which we were soon seated taking our evening meal. The Indians then cut a number of stout poles, which they drove into the ground, forming a square, the roof being thatched over with palm-leaves, extending some distance beyond the poles, so as to form deep eaves. To these poles were hung up our hammocks, a small part being, as usual, partitioned off for Ellen and Maria. This was our usual style of encampment. When the trees grew sufficiently wide apart, we sometimes secured our hammocks to them, with a roof such as I have mentioned above our heads. The fires were kept up all night, and a watch set to prevent surprise, should any unfriendly natives find us out, and come across the river in their canoes. Isoro advised us always to select an island for our night encampment. “Indeed,” he observed, “it would be safer never to land on the banks, if you can avoid so doing.”Our Indians, besides their usual blow-pipes, had come provided with harpoons and lines for catching fish. Generally, at the end of our day’s voyage, they would go out in the smaller canoe, and invariably come back with a good supply.Arthur and I, with True, one day accompanied Naro and two of his men. While the Indians remained in the canoe, we landed and walked along the sandy shore of the island. True ran before us, shoving his nose into the tall reeds and rushes. Suddenly out he backed, barking furiously, but still retreating, and evidently less disposed than usual for battle. Fully expecting to see a huge anaconda come forth, Arthur and I retired to a safe distance, while I got my gun ready to fire at the serpent when he should appear. We stood watching the spot which True still faced, when the reeds were moved aside, and the oddest-looking monster I ever set eyes on came slowly forth, and for a moment looked about him. True actually turned tail, and fell back on us for support. He would have faced a lion, but the creature before him had not a vulnerable part on which he could lay hold. It meantime, regardless of him or us, made its way towards the water. It was as grotesque and unlike what we fancy a reality as those creatures which the wild imaginations of the painters of bygone days delighted in producing. How can I describe it? It was covered all over with armour—back, neck, and head. On its head it wore a curiously-shaped helmet, with a long tube in front serving as a snout, while its feet were webbed, and armed with sharp claws at the end of its thick and powerful legs. From the chin hung two fringe-like membranes, and the throat and neck were similarly ornamented. Naro was not far off, and came paddling up at a great rate, crying out to us to turn the creature from the water. Its formidable appearance and size made us somewhat unwilling to get within reach of its head; for it was fully three feet long, and its covering would, it appeared, turn off a bullet. Arthur, however, bravely ran in front of it, and True kept barking round it, keeping wisely beyond its reach. We thus impeded its progress; but still it made way, and was just about to launch itself into the river when the canoe coming up, Naro’s harpoon, struck it under the shield at the neck. It struggled to get free, but was hauled again on to the sand, and soon dispatched by the Indians. They seemed highly pleased at the capture, and signified that, in spite of its strange appearance, it was excellent for food.“Why, after all, it is only a tortoise!” exclaimed Arthur, who had been examining it. A tortoise it was, though the strangest-looking of its tribe, but not at all uncommon.The strange creature we had found was a matamata (Chelys matamata). It is found plentifully in Demerara, where its flesh is much esteemed. What we took to be a helmet, consisted of two membraneous prolongations of the skin, which projected out on either side from its broad and flattened head. The back was covered with a shield, with three distinct ridges or keels along it, and was broader before than behind. It had a stumpy pointed tail. I should add that it feeds only in the water, concealing itself among reeds by the bank, when it darts forward its long neck and seizes with its sharp beak any passing fish, reptile, or water-fowl—for it likes a variety of food—or it will swim after them at a great rate.We carried the matamata to the camp, and on landing it drew it up with sipos, with its neck stretched out. Ellen could scarcely believe that it was a real creature.“I am very glad that I did not meet it when by myself on the sands. I am sure that I should have run away, and dreamed about it for nights afterwards!” she exclaimed. “It was very brave, Harry, of you and Arthur to face it; and as for True, he is worthy to take rank with Saint George, for it must have appeared a perfect dragon to him.”“Barring the want of tail, my sister,” observed John with a laugh. “True will find many more formidable antagonists than the matamata in these regions, and he must be taught to restrain his ardour, or he may some day, I fear, ‘catch a Tartar.’”Maria meantime stood behind us, lifting up her hands and uttering exclamations of astonishment, as she surveyed the creature at a respectful distance.The next evening we again accompanied the Indians. It was very calm, and the water in a narrow channel through which we went smooth and clear, so that we could look down to a great depth and see the fish swimming about in vast numbers. Presently I caught sight of a huge black monster gliding silently up the channel just below the surface. It was, however, too far off for the harpoons of the Indians to reach it. We followed, they intimating that we should very likely come up with it. We had not gone far, when they ceased rowing and pointed ahead. There I saw, on the other side of a clump of bamboos which grew on a point projecting into the stream, a creature with a savage countenance and huge paws resting on the trunk of a tree overhanging the water. It was of a brownish-yellow colour, the upper parts of the body variegated with irregular oblong spots of black. It was so intently watching the stream that it did not appear to observe us. Had it not indeed been pointed out to me, I might not have discovered it, so much had it the appearance of the trunk on which it was resting. Presently we saw a huge black head projecting out of the stream. In an instant the jaguar, for such was the animal on the watch, sprang forward and seized its prey. The creature which had thus ventured within the grasp of the jaguar was amanatee, or sea-cow, thepeixe boiof the Portuguese. A fearful struggle ensued, the manatee to escape, the jaguar to hold it fast. I lifted my gun to fire, but the Indians made a sign to me to desist. If I should kill the jaguar the manatee would escape, and their object was to allow the latter to be too exhausted to do so, and then to shoot the jaguar. Now it appeared as if the jaguar would drag the water-monster out of its native element, now that the former would be drawn into it. The sea-cow struggled bravely, but the beast of prey had got too firm a hold to let it escape. The surface of the water was lashed into foam. The jaguar’s claws and teeth were firmly fixed in the thick hide of the sea-cow. Slowly it seemed to be drawn higher and higher out of its native element. So eager was the savage beast, that it did not even observe our approach, but continued with its sharp teeth gnawing into the back of its defenceless prey. We now paddled closer. It turned a look of savage rage towards us, seeming to doubt whether it should let go the manatee and stand on the defensive, or continue the strife. The way it held the sea-cow gave us a notion of its immense strength. Gradually the efforts of the manatee began to relax. It was very clear how the combat would have finished had we not been present. At a sign from the Indians I lifted my rifle and fired. The ball passed through the jaguar’s neck. Though wounded, the fierce animal stood snarling savagely, with its fore-feet on the trunk of the tree, as if prepared to make a spring into the canoe. While I was reloading, the Indians raised their blow-pipes and sent two of their slender arrows quivering into its body. Still the jaguar stood at bay, apparently scarcely feeling the wound. Meantime the huge cow-fish was slipping off the bank. Naro, on seeing this, ordered his men to paddle forward, while, harpoon in hand, he stood ready to dart it at the manatee. Every moment I expected to see the jaguar spring at us. Just as the manatee was disappearing under the water, the harpoon flew with unerring aim from Naro’s hand, and was buried deeply in its body. Again we backed away from the bank, just in time, it seemed, for in another moment the jaguar would have sprung at us. Having got out of its reach, the Indians shot two more of their deadly arrows into its body. Still it stood, snarling and roaring with rage at being deprived of its prey. Gradually its cries of anger ceased, its glaring eyes grew dim, its legs seemed to refuse it support, and slowly it sank back among the mass of fern-like plants which bordered the bank.Meantime, the Indians were engaged with the harpoon line, now hauling in on it, now slackening it out, a ruddy hue mixing with the current showing that the life-blood of the manatee was fast ebbing away. In a short time the struggles of the huge river monster ceased, and the Indians paddling towards the bank, towed it after them. I was all the while looking out for the jaguar. A movement in the shrubs among which it had fallen showed that it was still alive. I was sure that my shot had not injured it much, and I could scarcely suppose that those light needle-like darts could have done it much harm. I reminded Naro of the jaguar. He shook his head in reply. “He will no longer interfere with us,” I understood him to say. The manatee was soon hauled on shore, and as it was too large to be taken bodily into the canoe, the Indians, having thoroughly knocked out any spark of life which might remain, began cutting it up.The creature was between seven and eight feet long, and upwards of six in circumference in the thickest part. The body was perfectly smooth, and of a lead colour. It tapered off towards the tail, which was flat, horizontal, and semicircular, without any appearance of hind limbs. The head was not large, though the mouth was, with fleshy lips somewhat like those of a cow. There were stiff bristles on the lips, and a few hairs scattered over the body. Just behind the head were two powerful oval fins, having the breasts beneath them. The ears were minute holes, and the eyes very small. The skin of the back was fully an inch thick, and beneath it a layer of fat, also an inch or more thick. On examining the fins, or fore-limbs, as they should properly be called, we found bones exactly corresponding to those of the human arm, with five fingers at the extremity, every joint distinct, although completely encased in a stiff inflexible skin. The manatee feeds on the grass growing at the borders of the lakes and rivers. It swims at a rapid rate, moved on by the tail and paddles. The female produces generally only one at a birth, and clasps it, so Naro told us, in her paddles while giving it suck.Having cut up the cow, with which we loaded the canoe, we paddled in towards where the jaguar had been seen. The chief and one of his followers without hesitation leaped on shore: Arthur and I followed, when to our surprise we saw the savage brute lying over on its side perfectly dead. It had been destroyed by the poison on the tip of the arrows, not by the wounds they or my bullet had produced. It was quickly skinned, cut up, and part of the meat added to our store, while the skin, which I thought was the most valuable part, was at my request taken on board.On emerging from the inlet, we steered for the island, guided by the light of the camp-fire. We were welcomed with loud shouts by the generally impassive Indians, who were delighted with the supply of flesh which we had brought. No time was lost in cutting the meat into small pieces, each person fastening a dozen or more on long skewers. These were stuck in the ground, and slanted over the flames to roast. The meat tasted somewhat like pork, I thought, but John considered it more like beef.We were one evening approaching a long island with a sand-bank extending from its side. Isoro told us that the Indians were unable to proceed further, and that after this we should find the navigation tolerably easy. The sand-bank, he said, was frequented by turtles, and they hoped to be able to supply us and themselves with a good store of eggs, and to catch also some turtles.Having hauled up the canoes, and formed our sleeping-places as usual, leaving Domingos in charge of the camp, we all, including Ellen and Maria, set out to search for turtles’ eggs, our Indians having in the meantime woven a number of baskets of reeds in which to carry them. Each of the Indians carried a long stick in his hand. We proceeded a short distance along the bank, till we came to a somewhat higher part. The sand felt quite hot to our feet. The Indians pointed out some slight marks in it, which they told us were made by the turtles. Going on, one of them stuck his stick into the sand. It sank easily down. Instantly he and his companions were on their knees digging with their hands, and soon cleared out a hole full of eggs. Upwards of one hundred were collected from that hole alone. In the meantime the rest were searching about, and we were soon all on our knees, busily engaged in picking up the eggs. The eggs were about an inch and a half in diameter, somewhat larger than an ordinary hen’s egg. They have thin leathery shells, an oily yoke, and a white which does not coagulate. Having laden ourselves with as many as we could carry in our baskets, we returned to the camp. Domingos at once set to work to make cakes, mixing the eggs with flour. Others were roasted. The Indians, however, ate them raw.While we sat round our camp-fire, Isoro excited our curiosity by an account of the way the turtles lay their eggs, and we agreed to start away the next morning before daybreak to watch the process. He called us about two hours before daybreak. We found that Naro and two of his men had already gone off to try and catch some of the animals. After walking a short distance, we discovered the Indians squatting down behind a shelter of branches, which they had put up to conceal themselves from the turtles. They told us to take our seats by them, and remain quiet. We had not been there long before we saw a number of dark objects moving over the light coloured sand. Two or three came close to us, when the Indians rushing out, quickly turned them on their backs, and again ran under shelter.We waited for some time till the light of day enabled us to see more clearly, when, as far as our eyes could reach, we observed the upper part of the bank covered with turtles, all busily employed with their broad-webbed paws in excavating the sand, while others were apparently placing their eggs in the holes they had made. As the morning drew on, they began to waddle away towards the river. The margin of the upper bank was rather steep, and it was amusing to see them tumbling head foremost down the declivity, and then going on again till the leaders reached the water. We now all rushed forward, and were in time to catch several, turning them over on their backs, where they lay unable to move.The first comer, Isoro told us, makes a hole about three feet deep. In this she lays her eggs, and then covers them up with sand. The next reaching the shore lays her eggs on the top of her predecessor’s, and so on, several turtles will lay one above the others, till the pit, which holds about one hundred eggs, is full, when the last carefully sweeps the sand over the hole, so as to make it appear as if it had not been disturbed. It is only, indeed, from the tracks made by the turtles themselves as they are returning to the water that the nests can be traced. In the settled parts of the country great care is taken not to disturb these sand-banks till the whole body of turtles have laid their eggs. Sometimes they occupy fourteen days or more in the business. People are stationed at some elevated spot in the neighbourhood to warn off any one approaching the bank, and to take care that the timid turtles are in no way disturbed; otherwise it is supposed they would desert the ground altogether.We had now a large supply of turtle and turtle eggs. Our Indian friends, well satisfied with their expedition, loaded their canoe almost to the water’s edge. We also took on board as many as we could consume. Naro and his followers had behaved very well, but they were uninteresting people, and had done nothing particular to win our regard. John wrote a letter to Don José for Isoro to carry, and we all sent many messages, expressing our affectionate regard. Had it not been for Don José, we might have been subjected to much annoyance and trouble, and been prevented probably from following our family. We each of us presented Isoro also with a small remembrance. We parted from him with sincere regret; and I believe that had it not been for his devoted love to his master he would gladly have accompanied us. He and his companions waited till we had embarked in our own canoe, and cast off from the shore. A light breeze was blowing down the river. We hoisted our mat sail, and Domingos taking the steering oar, we recommenced our voyage down the river. The Indians then set forth on their toilsome one up the stream, having to paddle with might and main for many days against it.
All was now ready for our departure from our first halting-place. Early in the morning, having carefully laden our two vessels, we embarked. John, Ellen, Maria, and Domingos went in the larger one, accompanied by Nimble and Poll, with Naro and two of his followers; while Isoro, Arthur, and I embarked in the smaller, with two of the other men. True, of course, went with us, his usual post being the bow, where he stood with his fore-feet on the gunwale, as if it were his especial duty to keep a look-out ahead. Isoro acted as captain, and Arthur and I and the two Indians, with paddles in our hands, formed the crew. Shoving off from the bank, we rapidly glided down the river, the current carrying us along at a great rate with little aid from our paddles. The large canoe took the lead, we following in her wake. The water whirled and eddied as we glided on. On either side rose the giant trees of the primeval forest—while, looking astern, we could see far away across the mighty mass of foliage the range of the Andes, with the beautiful cone of Cotopaxi standing out boldly above its fellows.
We soon, however, had something else to think of. Several dark rounded rocks rose up ahead of us, between which the water furiously rushed, dashing against their sides, and throwing up clouds of spray, while whirling, boiling eddies came bursting up from the bottom, as if some subaqueous explosion were taking place. Short cross waves curled up round us, with here and there smooth intervening spaces, the more treacherous for their apparent calmness; for as we passed through them we could with difficulty keep the head of our small canoe in the direction of our leader. The Indians plied their paddles with redoubled vigour, while the helmsman of John’s canoe every now and then gave vent to loud, wild shrieks. Isoro sat calmly clenching his teeth, and looking out eagerly ahead. The large canoe went gliding on. And now we saw her passing between two rocks, over which the water dashing formed an arch of spray, almost concealing her from our sight. Presently we also were passing through the same channel. It seemed as if our small canoe would be swamped by the swelling waters. The clouds of spray which broke over her almost blinded us, the loud roaring, hissing sound of the waves as they rushed against the rocks deafened our ears, while the whirling current so confused our senses, that we could scarcely tell in what direction we were going.
“O Harry, what has become of the other canoe?” exclaimed Arthur.
A dark rock rose before us. No canoe was to be seen. A horror seized me. I feared that she had been engulfed. But presently, Isoro turning the head of our canoe, we shot past the rock, and to our joy again saw the other canoe rushing on with still greater speed towards another opening in the channel. We followed even faster than before. The current seemed to increase in rapidity as we advanced, pressed together by the narrower channel. Yet, fast as we went, we could scarcely keep pace with our leader. Now we glided on smoothly, now we pitched and tossed as the mimic waves rose up round us, and thus we went on, the navigation requiring the utmost watchfulness and exertion to escape destruction. We, perhaps, in our smaller canoe, were safer than those in the larger one; indeed, I thought more of them than ourselves. Should we meet with any accident, however, they could not return to help us, whereas we might push forward to their assistance. We followed the movements of the Indians. When they paddled fast, we also exerted ourselves; when they ceased, we also lifted our paddles out of the water. I was very glad that we were thus employed, as we, having plenty to do, thought less of the danger we were in.
After being thus tossed about for I cannot judge how long, every moment running the risk of being dashed on the rocks, now on one side, now on the other, we found the river again widening and the current flowing on more tranquilly. In a short time, however, we came to another rapid. Once more we were amid the wild tumult of waters. The current rushed on with fearful speed. Now we saw the stern of the leading canoe lifted up, and it appeared as if her bows were going under. I could not refrain from uttering a shriek of horror. Isoro and the Indians remained calm, just guiding our canoe. John’s canoe disappeared. On we went, expecting the same fate which I dreaded had overtaken her. An instant afterwards we saw her again gliding on calmly. Downwards we slid over a watery hill, the Indians paddling with might and main, we following their example. We had descended a fall such as I should scarcely have supposed it possible so small a boat as ours could have passed over in safety. Our companions continued plying their paddles, sending out their breath in a low grunt, as if they had been holding it in for some minutes.
We now came up with the other canoe, which had been waiting for us.
“That was nervous work!” exclaimed John “I am thankful we are through the falls; they are the worst we shall meet with.”
Paddling on till nearly dark, we landed on an island, where it was proposed we should pass the night. There were but few trees in the centre, the rest consisting of sand and rock. This spot had been selected to avoid the risk of being surprised by unfriendly natives or prowling jaguars. The canoes were hauled up, the goods landed, and fires were lighted, round which we were soon seated taking our evening meal. The Indians then cut a number of stout poles, which they drove into the ground, forming a square, the roof being thatched over with palm-leaves, extending some distance beyond the poles, so as to form deep eaves. To these poles were hung up our hammocks, a small part being, as usual, partitioned off for Ellen and Maria. This was our usual style of encampment. When the trees grew sufficiently wide apart, we sometimes secured our hammocks to them, with a roof such as I have mentioned above our heads. The fires were kept up all night, and a watch set to prevent surprise, should any unfriendly natives find us out, and come across the river in their canoes. Isoro advised us always to select an island for our night encampment. “Indeed,” he observed, “it would be safer never to land on the banks, if you can avoid so doing.”
Our Indians, besides their usual blow-pipes, had come provided with harpoons and lines for catching fish. Generally, at the end of our day’s voyage, they would go out in the smaller canoe, and invariably come back with a good supply.
Arthur and I, with True, one day accompanied Naro and two of his men. While the Indians remained in the canoe, we landed and walked along the sandy shore of the island. True ran before us, shoving his nose into the tall reeds and rushes. Suddenly out he backed, barking furiously, but still retreating, and evidently less disposed than usual for battle. Fully expecting to see a huge anaconda come forth, Arthur and I retired to a safe distance, while I got my gun ready to fire at the serpent when he should appear. We stood watching the spot which True still faced, when the reeds were moved aside, and the oddest-looking monster I ever set eyes on came slowly forth, and for a moment looked about him. True actually turned tail, and fell back on us for support. He would have faced a lion, but the creature before him had not a vulnerable part on which he could lay hold. It meantime, regardless of him or us, made its way towards the water. It was as grotesque and unlike what we fancy a reality as those creatures which the wild imaginations of the painters of bygone days delighted in producing. How can I describe it? It was covered all over with armour—back, neck, and head. On its head it wore a curiously-shaped helmet, with a long tube in front serving as a snout, while its feet were webbed, and armed with sharp claws at the end of its thick and powerful legs. From the chin hung two fringe-like membranes, and the throat and neck were similarly ornamented. Naro was not far off, and came paddling up at a great rate, crying out to us to turn the creature from the water. Its formidable appearance and size made us somewhat unwilling to get within reach of its head; for it was fully three feet long, and its covering would, it appeared, turn off a bullet. Arthur, however, bravely ran in front of it, and True kept barking round it, keeping wisely beyond its reach. We thus impeded its progress; but still it made way, and was just about to launch itself into the river when the canoe coming up, Naro’s harpoon, struck it under the shield at the neck. It struggled to get free, but was hauled again on to the sand, and soon dispatched by the Indians. They seemed highly pleased at the capture, and signified that, in spite of its strange appearance, it was excellent for food.
“Why, after all, it is only a tortoise!” exclaimed Arthur, who had been examining it. A tortoise it was, though the strangest-looking of its tribe, but not at all uncommon.
The strange creature we had found was a matamata (Chelys matamata). It is found plentifully in Demerara, where its flesh is much esteemed. What we took to be a helmet, consisted of two membraneous prolongations of the skin, which projected out on either side from its broad and flattened head. The back was covered with a shield, with three distinct ridges or keels along it, and was broader before than behind. It had a stumpy pointed tail. I should add that it feeds only in the water, concealing itself among reeds by the bank, when it darts forward its long neck and seizes with its sharp beak any passing fish, reptile, or water-fowl—for it likes a variety of food—or it will swim after them at a great rate.
We carried the matamata to the camp, and on landing it drew it up with sipos, with its neck stretched out. Ellen could scarcely believe that it was a real creature.
“I am very glad that I did not meet it when by myself on the sands. I am sure that I should have run away, and dreamed about it for nights afterwards!” she exclaimed. “It was very brave, Harry, of you and Arthur to face it; and as for True, he is worthy to take rank with Saint George, for it must have appeared a perfect dragon to him.”
“Barring the want of tail, my sister,” observed John with a laugh. “True will find many more formidable antagonists than the matamata in these regions, and he must be taught to restrain his ardour, or he may some day, I fear, ‘catch a Tartar.’”
Maria meantime stood behind us, lifting up her hands and uttering exclamations of astonishment, as she surveyed the creature at a respectful distance.
The next evening we again accompanied the Indians. It was very calm, and the water in a narrow channel through which we went smooth and clear, so that we could look down to a great depth and see the fish swimming about in vast numbers. Presently I caught sight of a huge black monster gliding silently up the channel just below the surface. It was, however, too far off for the harpoons of the Indians to reach it. We followed, they intimating that we should very likely come up with it. We had not gone far, when they ceased rowing and pointed ahead. There I saw, on the other side of a clump of bamboos which grew on a point projecting into the stream, a creature with a savage countenance and huge paws resting on the trunk of a tree overhanging the water. It was of a brownish-yellow colour, the upper parts of the body variegated with irregular oblong spots of black. It was so intently watching the stream that it did not appear to observe us. Had it not indeed been pointed out to me, I might not have discovered it, so much had it the appearance of the trunk on which it was resting. Presently we saw a huge black head projecting out of the stream. In an instant the jaguar, for such was the animal on the watch, sprang forward and seized its prey. The creature which had thus ventured within the grasp of the jaguar was amanatee, or sea-cow, thepeixe boiof the Portuguese. A fearful struggle ensued, the manatee to escape, the jaguar to hold it fast. I lifted my gun to fire, but the Indians made a sign to me to desist. If I should kill the jaguar the manatee would escape, and their object was to allow the latter to be too exhausted to do so, and then to shoot the jaguar. Now it appeared as if the jaguar would drag the water-monster out of its native element, now that the former would be drawn into it. The sea-cow struggled bravely, but the beast of prey had got too firm a hold to let it escape. The surface of the water was lashed into foam. The jaguar’s claws and teeth were firmly fixed in the thick hide of the sea-cow. Slowly it seemed to be drawn higher and higher out of its native element. So eager was the savage beast, that it did not even observe our approach, but continued with its sharp teeth gnawing into the back of its defenceless prey. We now paddled closer. It turned a look of savage rage towards us, seeming to doubt whether it should let go the manatee and stand on the defensive, or continue the strife. The way it held the sea-cow gave us a notion of its immense strength. Gradually the efforts of the manatee began to relax. It was very clear how the combat would have finished had we not been present. At a sign from the Indians I lifted my rifle and fired. The ball passed through the jaguar’s neck. Though wounded, the fierce animal stood snarling savagely, with its fore-feet on the trunk of the tree, as if prepared to make a spring into the canoe. While I was reloading, the Indians raised their blow-pipes and sent two of their slender arrows quivering into its body. Still the jaguar stood at bay, apparently scarcely feeling the wound. Meantime the huge cow-fish was slipping off the bank. Naro, on seeing this, ordered his men to paddle forward, while, harpoon in hand, he stood ready to dart it at the manatee. Every moment I expected to see the jaguar spring at us. Just as the manatee was disappearing under the water, the harpoon flew with unerring aim from Naro’s hand, and was buried deeply in its body. Again we backed away from the bank, just in time, it seemed, for in another moment the jaguar would have sprung at us. Having got out of its reach, the Indians shot two more of their deadly arrows into its body. Still it stood, snarling and roaring with rage at being deprived of its prey. Gradually its cries of anger ceased, its glaring eyes grew dim, its legs seemed to refuse it support, and slowly it sank back among the mass of fern-like plants which bordered the bank.
Meantime, the Indians were engaged with the harpoon line, now hauling in on it, now slackening it out, a ruddy hue mixing with the current showing that the life-blood of the manatee was fast ebbing away. In a short time the struggles of the huge river monster ceased, and the Indians paddling towards the bank, towed it after them. I was all the while looking out for the jaguar. A movement in the shrubs among which it had fallen showed that it was still alive. I was sure that my shot had not injured it much, and I could scarcely suppose that those light needle-like darts could have done it much harm. I reminded Naro of the jaguar. He shook his head in reply. “He will no longer interfere with us,” I understood him to say. The manatee was soon hauled on shore, and as it was too large to be taken bodily into the canoe, the Indians, having thoroughly knocked out any spark of life which might remain, began cutting it up.
The creature was between seven and eight feet long, and upwards of six in circumference in the thickest part. The body was perfectly smooth, and of a lead colour. It tapered off towards the tail, which was flat, horizontal, and semicircular, without any appearance of hind limbs. The head was not large, though the mouth was, with fleshy lips somewhat like those of a cow. There were stiff bristles on the lips, and a few hairs scattered over the body. Just behind the head were two powerful oval fins, having the breasts beneath them. The ears were minute holes, and the eyes very small. The skin of the back was fully an inch thick, and beneath it a layer of fat, also an inch or more thick. On examining the fins, or fore-limbs, as they should properly be called, we found bones exactly corresponding to those of the human arm, with five fingers at the extremity, every joint distinct, although completely encased in a stiff inflexible skin. The manatee feeds on the grass growing at the borders of the lakes and rivers. It swims at a rapid rate, moved on by the tail and paddles. The female produces generally only one at a birth, and clasps it, so Naro told us, in her paddles while giving it suck.
Having cut up the cow, with which we loaded the canoe, we paddled in towards where the jaguar had been seen. The chief and one of his followers without hesitation leaped on shore: Arthur and I followed, when to our surprise we saw the savage brute lying over on its side perfectly dead. It had been destroyed by the poison on the tip of the arrows, not by the wounds they or my bullet had produced. It was quickly skinned, cut up, and part of the meat added to our store, while the skin, which I thought was the most valuable part, was at my request taken on board.
On emerging from the inlet, we steered for the island, guided by the light of the camp-fire. We were welcomed with loud shouts by the generally impassive Indians, who were delighted with the supply of flesh which we had brought. No time was lost in cutting the meat into small pieces, each person fastening a dozen or more on long skewers. These were stuck in the ground, and slanted over the flames to roast. The meat tasted somewhat like pork, I thought, but John considered it more like beef.
We were one evening approaching a long island with a sand-bank extending from its side. Isoro told us that the Indians were unable to proceed further, and that after this we should find the navigation tolerably easy. The sand-bank, he said, was frequented by turtles, and they hoped to be able to supply us and themselves with a good store of eggs, and to catch also some turtles.
Having hauled up the canoes, and formed our sleeping-places as usual, leaving Domingos in charge of the camp, we all, including Ellen and Maria, set out to search for turtles’ eggs, our Indians having in the meantime woven a number of baskets of reeds in which to carry them. Each of the Indians carried a long stick in his hand. We proceeded a short distance along the bank, till we came to a somewhat higher part. The sand felt quite hot to our feet. The Indians pointed out some slight marks in it, which they told us were made by the turtles. Going on, one of them stuck his stick into the sand. It sank easily down. Instantly he and his companions were on their knees digging with their hands, and soon cleared out a hole full of eggs. Upwards of one hundred were collected from that hole alone. In the meantime the rest were searching about, and we were soon all on our knees, busily engaged in picking up the eggs. The eggs were about an inch and a half in diameter, somewhat larger than an ordinary hen’s egg. They have thin leathery shells, an oily yoke, and a white which does not coagulate. Having laden ourselves with as many as we could carry in our baskets, we returned to the camp. Domingos at once set to work to make cakes, mixing the eggs with flour. Others were roasted. The Indians, however, ate them raw.
While we sat round our camp-fire, Isoro excited our curiosity by an account of the way the turtles lay their eggs, and we agreed to start away the next morning before daybreak to watch the process. He called us about two hours before daybreak. We found that Naro and two of his men had already gone off to try and catch some of the animals. After walking a short distance, we discovered the Indians squatting down behind a shelter of branches, which they had put up to conceal themselves from the turtles. They told us to take our seats by them, and remain quiet. We had not been there long before we saw a number of dark objects moving over the light coloured sand. Two or three came close to us, when the Indians rushing out, quickly turned them on their backs, and again ran under shelter.
We waited for some time till the light of day enabled us to see more clearly, when, as far as our eyes could reach, we observed the upper part of the bank covered with turtles, all busily employed with their broad-webbed paws in excavating the sand, while others were apparently placing their eggs in the holes they had made. As the morning drew on, they began to waddle away towards the river. The margin of the upper bank was rather steep, and it was amusing to see them tumbling head foremost down the declivity, and then going on again till the leaders reached the water. We now all rushed forward, and were in time to catch several, turning them over on their backs, where they lay unable to move.
The first comer, Isoro told us, makes a hole about three feet deep. In this she lays her eggs, and then covers them up with sand. The next reaching the shore lays her eggs on the top of her predecessor’s, and so on, several turtles will lay one above the others, till the pit, which holds about one hundred eggs, is full, when the last carefully sweeps the sand over the hole, so as to make it appear as if it had not been disturbed. It is only, indeed, from the tracks made by the turtles themselves as they are returning to the water that the nests can be traced. In the settled parts of the country great care is taken not to disturb these sand-banks till the whole body of turtles have laid their eggs. Sometimes they occupy fourteen days or more in the business. People are stationed at some elevated spot in the neighbourhood to warn off any one approaching the bank, and to take care that the timid turtles are in no way disturbed; otherwise it is supposed they would desert the ground altogether.
We had now a large supply of turtle and turtle eggs. Our Indian friends, well satisfied with their expedition, loaded their canoe almost to the water’s edge. We also took on board as many as we could consume. Naro and his followers had behaved very well, but they were uninteresting people, and had done nothing particular to win our regard. John wrote a letter to Don José for Isoro to carry, and we all sent many messages, expressing our affectionate regard. Had it not been for Don José, we might have been subjected to much annoyance and trouble, and been prevented probably from following our family. We each of us presented Isoro also with a small remembrance. We parted from him with sincere regret; and I believe that had it not been for his devoted love to his master he would gladly have accompanied us. He and his companions waited till we had embarked in our own canoe, and cast off from the shore. A light breeze was blowing down the river. We hoisted our mat sail, and Domingos taking the steering oar, we recommenced our voyage down the river. The Indians then set forth on their toilsome one up the stream, having to paddle with might and main for many days against it.
Chapter Seven.Our Disappointment, Danger, and Anxiety.The tributary of the Amazon, down which we were proceeding, was in many places more than half a mile wide: what must be the width of the mighty river itself! This comparatively small stream was often tossed into waves, and we were thankful that we had the prospect of embarking in a larger vessel, with more experienced boatmen, for our further voyage. On either side of the river were clay banks, above which the lofty trees formed impenetrable walls; while here and there islands appeared, the soil of some raised but little above the river, while in others we could see evidences of the stream having separated them at no great distance of time from the mainland. We continued our custom of landing at night—indeed, whenever we had to put to shore—at one of these islands. They all supplied us with wood to light our fires, and poles for our huts: some were large enough to furnish game.Thus several days passed away. We were, by our calculations, approaching the spot at which our father had led us to expect that we should find him. It may be supposed how eagerly we all looked out for the expected marks. At length the curiously-coloured bluff hill he had mentioned appeared in sight.“There it is! there it is!” exclaimed Ellen. “I am sure it must be the spot papa speaks of.”We surveyed it with eager eyes, and agreed that there could be no mistake about the matter. With redoubled energy we paddled on, the breeze, though light, being in our favour. And now in a short time we came in sight of the expected group of bamboos. We quickly rounded it; and there, before us, appeared the hill. We looked out for the huts on its summit, but none were visible.“Oh! perhaps papa thought it better to build them lower down, under the shade of that group of palms,” said Ellen; and we agreed that she was probably right.A small stream ran at the bottom of the hill, connected, probably, with one of the larger rivers we had passed. We paddled up it a short distance, hoping to find a convenient place for landing. Our hearts misgave us on finding no one come down to welcome us on shore.“They probably do not observe us coming,” observed Ellen. “Mamma and Fanny are in the house, and papa and the servants are out shooting.”I saw by the cheerful way she spoke she felt none of the apprehensions which John and I were experiencing. We soon found a clear spot, where the waters in the rainy season had carried away the trees and shrubs. Securing our canoe, we eagerly stepped on shore. The bank was somewhat steep; but we managed to climb up it, and, cutting our way through the intervening jungle, reached the foot of the hill. Even now I began to doubt whether, after all, this could be the spot our father spoke of. Not the slightest sound was heard, and there was no appearance of human habitations being near. True, as soon as we had got into the more open ground, went scampering along in high glee at finding himself on shore. John led the way, anxiously looking about on very side. We soon reached the top of the hill, gazing eagerly down towards the group of palm-trees Ellen had espied. No huts were to be seen.“They cannot have been here!” exclaimed Ellen.Just then John gave a start, and immediately hurried forward. We all followed. Before us we saw several posts standing upright, but they were blackened and charred, while several others lay scattered about. The grass around was burned, and the ground covered with ashes. It was too evident that a hut had stood there, which had been destroyed by fire; but whether it had been inhabited by our family or not, we in vain endeavoured to discover. No traces of them could we find. We looked at each other with anxious eyes. Ellen burst into tears, fully believing that something dreadful had happened. We wished to reassure her, but our own fears made this a hard matter. John stood silent for some time. Then again he walked over the spot, and examined narrowly the ground, looking among the neighbouring trees.“Perhaps this was not their house,” suggested Arthur; “or if it was, they may have escaped. Surely we should not give way to despair.”“I think the master is too cautious a man to have been taken by surprise,” observed Domingos. “He is probably not far off, and we shall see him soon.”Maria did her best to comfort her young mistress.“Do not cry, Doña Ellen; do not cry. We shall soon see them all,” she said, putting her arms round her as she used to do when she was a child, and trying to comfort her.Wishing to ascertain John’s opinion, I went towards him.“We must proceed further on,” he said. “I am surprised that our father has not left any sign by which we might learn where he has gone.”“Perhaps he had to retreat in too great a hurry for that, yet he might have escaped in safety,” observed Arthur.“Do you think they were attacked by natives, and driven away?” I asked of John.“About that I am doubtful,” he answered, in a low voice, so that Ellen should not hear. “Yet had the hut simply been burned by accident, they would have rebuilt it. Our friend Naro gave the Indians of this part of the river a bad name. He called themMajeronas; and said that they are cannibals, and attack all strangers. I did not believe the account he gave of them; and had I done so, I would not have mentioned it, for fear of unnecessarily alarming Ellen. Still, Harry, I confess I am very, very anxious.”“So indeed am I, now you tell me about theMajeronas,” I observed; “but still we must hope for the best. I cannot believe that anything so dreadful has happened as our fears suggest. Our poor mother, and sweet Fanny and Aunt Martha, to have been carried off and killed! Oh, I cannot think it true!”“Don’t you think it possible they got notice that they were about to be attacked, and made their escape in good time?” observed Arthur, in a more cheerful voice. “The natives, when they found that their prey had escaped them, would very naturally burn the house; and if they found any signals which Mr Faithful might have left, would have destroyed them also. I will ask Domingos; I think he will agree with me.”When we told Domingos what Arthur had said, he declared that he thought that was the most likely thing to have occurred. The suggestion raised our spirits. Domingos, however, advised as not to remain on the spot, lest the natives might discover us. Having made another search round, we accordingly took our way back to the canoe.Shoving off, we went down the stream into the main river. As we paddled slowly along the shore, we examined it carefully, still in hopes of finding some signals which might direct us. We had gone on for some short distance, when Arthur, looking up at the hill, exclaimed, “See! who can those be?”There we saw several figures with bows in their hands and high feathery plumes on their heads.“They must be theMajeronas,” exclaimed John. “We have indeed only just retreated in time.”“Oh, perhaps they will follow us!” cried Ellen.“I do not think we need fear that,” said Arthur, “as we have seen no canoes.”The Indians appeared only just to have discovered us. We saw them gesticulating to each other; and then they hurried down towards the river. We at once turned the canoe’s head away from the bank, and paddled out into the centre of the stream, where we should be beyond the reach of their arrows.By working away with our paddles we soon ran out of sight of them.Having rested for some minutes to recover from our exertions, we continued on down the stream. As the day was drawing on, it was necessary to look out for an island on which to encamp, as we had received so strong a warning not to land on the main shore. We kept a bright look-out, but no signs of an island could we see. The wind, which had hitherto been light, now increased to a gentle breeze; and as it was in our favour, we hoisted our sail and stood on, glad to be relieved from the labour of paddling. Thus we continued our progress, hoping to get before night to a distance from our savage enemies.The night came on, but there was still sufficient light to enable us to steer down the centre of the river. John proposed that we should form two watches; he and Arthur in one, Domingos and I in the other. This, of course, was agreed to. After some difficulty, we persuaded Ellen and Maria to lie down on the hammocks which were spread in the middle of the canoe under the awning. John and Arthur took the first watch; Domingos coiling himself away in the stern of the canoe, and I in the bows; to be ready for service should we be required.Tired as I was, it was some time before I could manage to go to sleep. I lay looking up at the dark sky—out of which thousands of bright stars shone forth—and listening to the ripple of the water against the bows of the canoe. At length the sound lulled me to sleep, though I felt conscious that Arthur had covered me up with a piece of matting. It seemed but a moment afterwards that I heard his voice calling me to get up and take his place. I raised myself, and saw Domingos at the helm, and the sails still set. Arthur then lay down in the place I had occupied; and I did him the same service he had rendered me, by covering him carefully up so as to protect him from the night air.It was the first time we had voyaged at night; and as we glided calmly on, I could not help regretting that we had not oftener sailed at the same hour, and thus escaped the heat of the day, the mosquitoes on shore, and enjoyed the cool breeze on the river. As I did not feel at all sleepy, I proposed to Domingos that we should allow John and Arthur to rest on, and continue ourselves on watch till daylight, when perhaps we might find some spot on which to land with safety.We thus glided on for some hours, and were expecting to see the dawn break over the trees on our larboard bow, when the channel became even narrower than before. Had it not been that the current still ran with us, I should have supposed that we had entered some other stream; but the way the water ran showed that this could not be the case. We therefore continued on as before. A bright glow now appeared in the eastern sky. Rapidly it increased till the whole arch of heaven was suffused with a ruddy light. Suddenly John awoke, and uttered an exclamation of surprise on finding that it was daylight. His voice aroused the rest of the party. Just then the sun, like a mighty arch of fire, appeared above the trees; and directly afterwards we saw, running across the stream down which we were sailing, another and far broader river. The mighty Marañon, as the natives call the Upper Amazon—or the Solimoens, as it is named by the Portuguese—was before us, having flowed down for many hundred miles from the mountain lake of Lauricocha, in Peru, 12,500 feet above the sea-level.As we gazed up and down the vast river, no object intervened till sky and water met, as on the ocean; while, on either side, the tall forest walls diminished in the perspective till they sank into thin lines. Even here, however, it is narrow, though already very deep, compared to the width it attains lower down. Our satisfaction at having escaped from the savages and arrived at the high road, along which we were to proceed, was counterbalanced by our anxiety for our family. We might, after all, have passed the spot where they were waiting for us; and yet it was not likely they would remain in the neighbourhood of such savages as the Majeronas had shown themselves. We agreed, therefore, at all risks, at once to row in towards the shore, and examine it carefully as we proceeded downwards.We had not gone far, when we came in sight of a sand-bank, which offered a favourable spot for landing. We accordingly rowed in, looking carefully about for any signs of natives. As no huts or any human beings were to be seen, we landed.While Domingos and Arthur were collecting wood for a fire, John and I, followed by True, with our guns, made our way through the forest, that we might survey the country, so as not to be taken by surprise. We had not gone far when I caught sight of three animals, which I should have taken for young hogs, from their brown colour, long coarse hair, and their general appearance, had they not been sitting up on their haunches, as no hog ever sat. They had large heads, and heavy blunt muzzles, and thick clumsy bodies without tails. They cast inquisitive looks at me, and would have sat on apparently till I had got close up to them, had not True dashed forward, when, uttering low sounds, between a grunt and a bark, they rushed towards the water. I fired at one of them, and knocked it over. The rest reached the river, though pursued by True, and instantly dived beneath the surface. John came up, and on examining the animal’s mouth, we found it to be a rodent, and thus knew it to be a capybara, the largest of its order. When alarmed, it rushes to the water, swims as well as the otter, and takes its prey in a similar manner. It is, from its aquatic habits, often called the water-hog. It had short legs, and peculiarly long feet, partially webbed, which enable it to swim so well.Directly afterwards, True turned a smaller animal out of a hollow trunk. It made off through the forest at great speed; but John shot it just as it was running behind a tree. It proved to be an agouti, also a rodent. It is in some respects like a hare or rabbit, with the coarse coat of a hog, but feeds itself like a squirrel. It is classed with the guinea-pig. It feeds on vegetables, and is very destructive to sugar-canes, which it rapidly gnaws through, and does not object to animal food.While I carried our prizes down in triumph to Domingos, that he might prepare a portion of them for breakfast, John continued his search through the woods. I was on the point of joining him, when I heard him cry, “Look out!” and at the same instant another animal burst through the wood with True at his heels. I fired, and killed it. This also was a rodent; and John said that it was a paca, which lives always in the neighbourhood of water, to which it takes readily when chased. It has its habitation in burrows, which it forms a short distance only beneath the surface. The opening it conceals with dried leaves and small branches. Once in the water, it swims and dives so well that it generally escapes from the hunter. It was of a thick and somewhat clumsy form, about two feet in length and one in height. The hinder limbs were longer than the front ones, and considerably bent. The claws were thick and strong, fitted for digging. It had rigid whiskers, and the ears were nearly naked.Presently I heard John cry out.“Harry, I believe that I have been bitten by a snake on which I trod,” he said, in his usual calm way. “I killed the creature, and I think it is poisonous; so go and call Domingos, for he will perhaps know what to do. But get him away if you can, so as not to frighten Ellen.”I ran off as fast as my legs could carry me, and was thankful to find that Ellen and Maria were sitting under the awning in the canoe, while Domingos was cooking at the fire, assisted by Arthur. In a breathless voice, my heart sinking with alarm, I told him what had happened.“There is a bottle of agua ardente, and there is another thing we will try,” he said, and rushed to the canoe.I was afraid that he would tell Ellen; but he stepped on board with an unconcerned manner, as if he wanted something for a culinary purpose, and returned with two of the paddles, and a bottle and cup.We found John seated on the bank, taking off his boot and sock.“Here, Señor John, drink this,” he said, giving him the cup full of liquid. “Señor Arthur will hold the bottle for you, while Señor Harry and I are making a grave for your leg. We must bury it. Don’t despair, my dear master. The remedy is a wonderful one.”We were digging away, while he spoke, with the paddles, and in a few moments John’s leg was buried deep in the earth, which was pressed down over it.“Why, this is brandy,” exclaimed John, as he swallowed the contents of a second cup which Arthur gave him.“Of course, my dear master,” answered Domingos, who, folding his arms, stood by, watching the effect of his treatment. “Some people think one remedy the best, some another. It is wise to try both. The brandy drives, the earth draws the poison forth.”Oh, how anxiously we watched John’s countenance! No change took place.Arthur and I went back, lest Ellen might be alarmed at our absence, leaving Domingos, who stood unmoved, in the same attitude as at first, watching his patient. At last Ellen put her head out from under the toldo, and asked when breakfast would be ready, as she and Maria were very hungry.“What shall we tell her?” asked Arthur.Just then I looked up, and saw Domingos coming towards us, waving the dead snake in his hand, and John following, walking as briskly as if nothing had been the matter with him.“A wonderful cure has been wrought,” he exclaimed, as he reached us. “But don’t tell Domingos yet. Finding myself much as usual, I bethought me, as I sat with my leg in the hole, of looking into the reptile’s mouth; and though it has a set of sharp teeth, I could discover no poisonous fangs. I am only sorry that so much good brandy was expended on me, which may be wanted on another occasion.”We now summoned Ellen, and told her in English what had occurred. Arthur and I having examined the head of the snake, to assure ourselves that John was right, cut it off and threw it into the river, while True breakfasted off the body, which we cooked for him. Domingos did not discover the truth till some time afterwards; and we heard him frequently boasting of the certain cure he knew for snake bites. I cannot, however, say that his remedy would not prove efficacious.Having made a good breakfast on the agouti, we once more embarked, and glided down the stream.I have not dwelt much on our anxiety, but, as may be supposed, we felt it greatly, and our conversation could not fail to be subdued and sad. Ellen, however, after her first grief had subdued, did her utmost, dear, good little sister that she was, to cheer our spirits. Often she kept repeating, “I am sure they have escaped! We shall before long find them. Depend on it, papa would not allow himself to be surprised! I have been praying for them ever since we commenced our journey, and I know my prayers will be heard.”Although I had felt great despondency, I could not help being influenced by Ellen’s hopeful spirit. Still it seemed to me that the probability of our discovering them along the wide-extended banks of the river was but small indeed. They, too, how anxious they must be feeling on our account; for if they had been in danger, as we supposed, they must know we should be subjected to the same. However, I will not dwell longer on this subject, but only again repeat that our parents and our aunt and Fanny were never absent from our thoughts. A light breeze springing up, we hoisted our mat sail, and glided down the river. Nothing could be more delightful. The light air cooled us, and kept off the mosquitoes; and as the nights were bright, had we not been anxious to examine the shore, we agreed that we might have continued our voyage till it was necessary to land and procure food.Suddenly, however, the wind again dropped. The sun, which had hitherto been casting his undimmed rays down on our heads, became obscured, as if a thick curtain had been drawn across it. The whole sky assumed a yellow tinge. Domingos looked anxiously round.“I do not like the look of the weather,” he observed. “It would be wise to lower the sail.”We had just got it down, when a low murmur was heard in the distant woods, increasing rapidly to a subdued roar. A white line appeared across the river. It came rapidly towards us. Now we could feel the wind blowing against our cheeks, and the whole surface of the water became suddenly rippled into wavelets, from which the white foam flew off in thick sheets. The sky had again changed to a greenish hue. The waves every moment increased in height.“A hurricane is coming on,” observed Domingos. “We cannot face it.”We put the canoe’s head towards the shore.“Paddle, my masters! paddle!” exclaimed Domingos. “We must reach the shore before the storm breaks with its full violence, or we may be lost!”We had not paddled many strokes before we felt the canoe driven forward by the wind at a rapid rate. We exerted ourselves, running before the wind, and edging in at the same time towards the northern shore. Every instant the hurricane gained strength; and as we looked upward, the whole sky, we saw, had assumed a red and black appearance. A little ahead appeared a sand-bank, on which stood a number of tall-legged birds, cormorants, white cranes, and other waders, large and small. We might land on the island, and save our lives; but the wind setting directly on it, we might lose our canoe, or, at all events, the water would break into her and destroy our goods. Domingos steered the canoe admirably, while we made every effort to keep off the island. Presently down came the blast with greater fury than before. Some of the smaller birds were carried off their legs and borne away by the wind. Others, throwing themselves down, stuck their beaks into the sand, and clung on with their long claws, their feet extended. In spite of our danger, Arthur and I could not help laughing at the extraordinary appearance of the birds, as they thus lay in great numbers along the sand, looking as if they had been shot, and were lying dead till the sportsman could pick them up. On we drove, narrowly escaping being thrown upon the bank, on which the foaming seas broke with terrific force.“Here it comes again!” cried Domingos. “Paddle bravely, and be not alarmed.”As he spoke, another blast, still more violent, struck us, and in an instant the covering of our canoe was torn away and lifted up. In vain we attempted to catch it. It was borne off by the wind towards the shore. So high were the waves which thus suddenly rose up, that we expected every moment to be overwhelmed; while we feared that unless we could manage to anchor we should be driven on the bank to leeward, where the canoe would be filled with water, and everything in her carried away. To resist the fury of the waves was impossible. In vain we strove to get under the lee of the island. Destruction yawned before us, when we saw, amid the thick forest trees which lined the bank, a narrow opening. It was the entrance, we hoped, to an igarape,—one of those curious water-ways, or canoe paths, which form a network of canals many hundred miles in extent, on either bank of the Amazon. We exerted ourselves to the utmost to reach it, although the seas which struck the side of the canoe threatened every moment to upset her before we could do so. Ellen and Maria had got out their paddles, and laboured away with all their strength, Maria’s stout arms indeed being a very efficient help. Domingos kept working away with his paddle, now on one side, now on another, now steering astern as he saw was requisite, twisting his features into a hundred different forms, and showing his white teeth as he shouted out in his eagerness. The tall trees were bending before the blast as if they were about to be torn from their roots and carried bodily inland. My fear was, on seeing them thus agitated, that should we get beneath them they might fall and crush us. Still we had no choice. It seemed doubtful whether we should reach the mouth of the igarape.We redoubled our efforts, and just grazing by a point which projected from the shore, on which, had we been thrown, we should have been upset, we darted into the canal. Even there the water hissed and roared as it was forced into the narrow channel. As an arrow flies through the zarabatana, so we sped up the igarape. For a few seconds Domingos had to exert himself to steer the canoe in mid-channel, to prevent her being dashed against the roots of the tall trees which projected into it. At first the roar of the wind among the trunks and branches was almost deafening. Gradually it decreased, and in a short time we could hear only the distant murmur of the tempest on the outside of the woody boundary. We were not, however, to escape altogether from it, for down came the rain in a pelting shower, to which, from the loss of our awning, we were completely exposed. We quickly, however, rigged another with our sail, which afforded shelter to Ellen and Maria. Having secured the canoe, we all crept under it, and consulted what we should next do. What with the mantle of clouds across the sky, and the thick arch of boughs over our heads, so great was the darkness that we could scarcely persuade ourselves that night was not coming on. We sat patiently, hoping that the rain, which pattered down with so loud a noise that it was necessary to raise our voices to make each other hear, would at length cease. In about half an hour, the shower-bath to which we had been exposed came to an end. But still drops fell thickly from the boughs, and the darkness proved to us that the clouds had not yet cleared away.After our unsatisfactory meeting with the natives, we were anxious not to remain longer on that part of the shore than necessary. Accordingly we once more paddled down the igarape. We soon found, however, that the wind was blowing too hard to allow us to venture out on the main stream.On passing downwards we observed a somewhat open space on the north side, and despairing of continuing our voyage that night, we determined to encamp there. Securing our canoe, in which Ellen and Maria sat under shelter, the rest of us, with axes in our hands, set to work to clear the ground and build a couple of huts. We had become such proficients in the art that this we soon accomplished. On account of the weather we built one of them, not only with a roof, but with back and sides, in which Ellen and her attendant could be sheltered. To our own also we built a side on the quarter from which the wind came. Our difficulty was to light a fire. But hunting about, we found some dried leaves in the hollow of a tree, and there was no lack of wood, which, after chopping off the wet outside, would burn readily.Having made all preparations, we conducted Ellen and Maria to their hut, and carried up our goods, which we placed within it, under shelter. We felt somewhat anxious at our position; but we hoped that the rain would keep any natives who might be in the neighbourhood from wandering about, and by the following morning we should be able to proceed on our voyage. Should we not meet with our father on our way down, we resolved to stop at the nearest Brazilian town on the banks, and there obtain assistance in instituting a more rigid search than we could make by ourselves. Of one thing we were certain, that had he escaped, and got thus far, he would stay there till our arrival. Still we did not abandon all hopes of finding him before that.We had taken everything out of the canoe, with the exception of the paddles, even to the sail, which served as a carpet for Ellen’s hut. We next turned our attention to cooking further portions of the animals we had killed in the morning. In spite of the storm raging outside, and our anxiety, as we sat round the blazing fire, Ellen and Maria having joined us, the smoke keeping the mosquitoes somewhat at bay, we all felt more cheerful than might have been expected. Midnight had now come on; and having cut up a further supply of wood to keep the fire burning, we slung our hammocks and turned into them, trusting to True to keep watch for us.
The tributary of the Amazon, down which we were proceeding, was in many places more than half a mile wide: what must be the width of the mighty river itself! This comparatively small stream was often tossed into waves, and we were thankful that we had the prospect of embarking in a larger vessel, with more experienced boatmen, for our further voyage. On either side of the river were clay banks, above which the lofty trees formed impenetrable walls; while here and there islands appeared, the soil of some raised but little above the river, while in others we could see evidences of the stream having separated them at no great distance of time from the mainland. We continued our custom of landing at night—indeed, whenever we had to put to shore—at one of these islands. They all supplied us with wood to light our fires, and poles for our huts: some were large enough to furnish game.
Thus several days passed away. We were, by our calculations, approaching the spot at which our father had led us to expect that we should find him. It may be supposed how eagerly we all looked out for the expected marks. At length the curiously-coloured bluff hill he had mentioned appeared in sight.
“There it is! there it is!” exclaimed Ellen. “I am sure it must be the spot papa speaks of.”
We surveyed it with eager eyes, and agreed that there could be no mistake about the matter. With redoubled energy we paddled on, the breeze, though light, being in our favour. And now in a short time we came in sight of the expected group of bamboos. We quickly rounded it; and there, before us, appeared the hill. We looked out for the huts on its summit, but none were visible.
“Oh! perhaps papa thought it better to build them lower down, under the shade of that group of palms,” said Ellen; and we agreed that she was probably right.
A small stream ran at the bottom of the hill, connected, probably, with one of the larger rivers we had passed. We paddled up it a short distance, hoping to find a convenient place for landing. Our hearts misgave us on finding no one come down to welcome us on shore.
“They probably do not observe us coming,” observed Ellen. “Mamma and Fanny are in the house, and papa and the servants are out shooting.”
I saw by the cheerful way she spoke she felt none of the apprehensions which John and I were experiencing. We soon found a clear spot, where the waters in the rainy season had carried away the trees and shrubs. Securing our canoe, we eagerly stepped on shore. The bank was somewhat steep; but we managed to climb up it, and, cutting our way through the intervening jungle, reached the foot of the hill. Even now I began to doubt whether, after all, this could be the spot our father spoke of. Not the slightest sound was heard, and there was no appearance of human habitations being near. True, as soon as we had got into the more open ground, went scampering along in high glee at finding himself on shore. John led the way, anxiously looking about on very side. We soon reached the top of the hill, gazing eagerly down towards the group of palm-trees Ellen had espied. No huts were to be seen.
“They cannot have been here!” exclaimed Ellen.
Just then John gave a start, and immediately hurried forward. We all followed. Before us we saw several posts standing upright, but they were blackened and charred, while several others lay scattered about. The grass around was burned, and the ground covered with ashes. It was too evident that a hut had stood there, which had been destroyed by fire; but whether it had been inhabited by our family or not, we in vain endeavoured to discover. No traces of them could we find. We looked at each other with anxious eyes. Ellen burst into tears, fully believing that something dreadful had happened. We wished to reassure her, but our own fears made this a hard matter. John stood silent for some time. Then again he walked over the spot, and examined narrowly the ground, looking among the neighbouring trees.
“Perhaps this was not their house,” suggested Arthur; “or if it was, they may have escaped. Surely we should not give way to despair.”
“I think the master is too cautious a man to have been taken by surprise,” observed Domingos. “He is probably not far off, and we shall see him soon.”
Maria did her best to comfort her young mistress.
“Do not cry, Doña Ellen; do not cry. We shall soon see them all,” she said, putting her arms round her as she used to do when she was a child, and trying to comfort her.
Wishing to ascertain John’s opinion, I went towards him.
“We must proceed further on,” he said. “I am surprised that our father has not left any sign by which we might learn where he has gone.”
“Perhaps he had to retreat in too great a hurry for that, yet he might have escaped in safety,” observed Arthur.
“Do you think they were attacked by natives, and driven away?” I asked of John.
“About that I am doubtful,” he answered, in a low voice, so that Ellen should not hear. “Yet had the hut simply been burned by accident, they would have rebuilt it. Our friend Naro gave the Indians of this part of the river a bad name. He called themMajeronas; and said that they are cannibals, and attack all strangers. I did not believe the account he gave of them; and had I done so, I would not have mentioned it, for fear of unnecessarily alarming Ellen. Still, Harry, I confess I am very, very anxious.”
“So indeed am I, now you tell me about theMajeronas,” I observed; “but still we must hope for the best. I cannot believe that anything so dreadful has happened as our fears suggest. Our poor mother, and sweet Fanny and Aunt Martha, to have been carried off and killed! Oh, I cannot think it true!”
“Don’t you think it possible they got notice that they were about to be attacked, and made their escape in good time?” observed Arthur, in a more cheerful voice. “The natives, when they found that their prey had escaped them, would very naturally burn the house; and if they found any signals which Mr Faithful might have left, would have destroyed them also. I will ask Domingos; I think he will agree with me.”
When we told Domingos what Arthur had said, he declared that he thought that was the most likely thing to have occurred. The suggestion raised our spirits. Domingos, however, advised as not to remain on the spot, lest the natives might discover us. Having made another search round, we accordingly took our way back to the canoe.
Shoving off, we went down the stream into the main river. As we paddled slowly along the shore, we examined it carefully, still in hopes of finding some signals which might direct us. We had gone on for some short distance, when Arthur, looking up at the hill, exclaimed, “See! who can those be?”
There we saw several figures with bows in their hands and high feathery plumes on their heads.
“They must be theMajeronas,” exclaimed John. “We have indeed only just retreated in time.”
“Oh, perhaps they will follow us!” cried Ellen.
“I do not think we need fear that,” said Arthur, “as we have seen no canoes.”
The Indians appeared only just to have discovered us. We saw them gesticulating to each other; and then they hurried down towards the river. We at once turned the canoe’s head away from the bank, and paddled out into the centre of the stream, where we should be beyond the reach of their arrows.
By working away with our paddles we soon ran out of sight of them.
Having rested for some minutes to recover from our exertions, we continued on down the stream. As the day was drawing on, it was necessary to look out for an island on which to encamp, as we had received so strong a warning not to land on the main shore. We kept a bright look-out, but no signs of an island could we see. The wind, which had hitherto been light, now increased to a gentle breeze; and as it was in our favour, we hoisted our sail and stood on, glad to be relieved from the labour of paddling. Thus we continued our progress, hoping to get before night to a distance from our savage enemies.
The night came on, but there was still sufficient light to enable us to steer down the centre of the river. John proposed that we should form two watches; he and Arthur in one, Domingos and I in the other. This, of course, was agreed to. After some difficulty, we persuaded Ellen and Maria to lie down on the hammocks which were spread in the middle of the canoe under the awning. John and Arthur took the first watch; Domingos coiling himself away in the stern of the canoe, and I in the bows; to be ready for service should we be required.
Tired as I was, it was some time before I could manage to go to sleep. I lay looking up at the dark sky—out of which thousands of bright stars shone forth—and listening to the ripple of the water against the bows of the canoe. At length the sound lulled me to sleep, though I felt conscious that Arthur had covered me up with a piece of matting. It seemed but a moment afterwards that I heard his voice calling me to get up and take his place. I raised myself, and saw Domingos at the helm, and the sails still set. Arthur then lay down in the place I had occupied; and I did him the same service he had rendered me, by covering him carefully up so as to protect him from the night air.
It was the first time we had voyaged at night; and as we glided calmly on, I could not help regretting that we had not oftener sailed at the same hour, and thus escaped the heat of the day, the mosquitoes on shore, and enjoyed the cool breeze on the river. As I did not feel at all sleepy, I proposed to Domingos that we should allow John and Arthur to rest on, and continue ourselves on watch till daylight, when perhaps we might find some spot on which to land with safety.
We thus glided on for some hours, and were expecting to see the dawn break over the trees on our larboard bow, when the channel became even narrower than before. Had it not been that the current still ran with us, I should have supposed that we had entered some other stream; but the way the water ran showed that this could not be the case. We therefore continued on as before. A bright glow now appeared in the eastern sky. Rapidly it increased till the whole arch of heaven was suffused with a ruddy light. Suddenly John awoke, and uttered an exclamation of surprise on finding that it was daylight. His voice aroused the rest of the party. Just then the sun, like a mighty arch of fire, appeared above the trees; and directly afterwards we saw, running across the stream down which we were sailing, another and far broader river. The mighty Marañon, as the natives call the Upper Amazon—or the Solimoens, as it is named by the Portuguese—was before us, having flowed down for many hundred miles from the mountain lake of Lauricocha, in Peru, 12,500 feet above the sea-level.
As we gazed up and down the vast river, no object intervened till sky and water met, as on the ocean; while, on either side, the tall forest walls diminished in the perspective till they sank into thin lines. Even here, however, it is narrow, though already very deep, compared to the width it attains lower down. Our satisfaction at having escaped from the savages and arrived at the high road, along which we were to proceed, was counterbalanced by our anxiety for our family. We might, after all, have passed the spot where they were waiting for us; and yet it was not likely they would remain in the neighbourhood of such savages as the Majeronas had shown themselves. We agreed, therefore, at all risks, at once to row in towards the shore, and examine it carefully as we proceeded downwards.
We had not gone far, when we came in sight of a sand-bank, which offered a favourable spot for landing. We accordingly rowed in, looking carefully about for any signs of natives. As no huts or any human beings were to be seen, we landed.
While Domingos and Arthur were collecting wood for a fire, John and I, followed by True, with our guns, made our way through the forest, that we might survey the country, so as not to be taken by surprise. We had not gone far when I caught sight of three animals, which I should have taken for young hogs, from their brown colour, long coarse hair, and their general appearance, had they not been sitting up on their haunches, as no hog ever sat. They had large heads, and heavy blunt muzzles, and thick clumsy bodies without tails. They cast inquisitive looks at me, and would have sat on apparently till I had got close up to them, had not True dashed forward, when, uttering low sounds, between a grunt and a bark, they rushed towards the water. I fired at one of them, and knocked it over. The rest reached the river, though pursued by True, and instantly dived beneath the surface. John came up, and on examining the animal’s mouth, we found it to be a rodent, and thus knew it to be a capybara, the largest of its order. When alarmed, it rushes to the water, swims as well as the otter, and takes its prey in a similar manner. It is, from its aquatic habits, often called the water-hog. It had short legs, and peculiarly long feet, partially webbed, which enable it to swim so well.
Directly afterwards, True turned a smaller animal out of a hollow trunk. It made off through the forest at great speed; but John shot it just as it was running behind a tree. It proved to be an agouti, also a rodent. It is in some respects like a hare or rabbit, with the coarse coat of a hog, but feeds itself like a squirrel. It is classed with the guinea-pig. It feeds on vegetables, and is very destructive to sugar-canes, which it rapidly gnaws through, and does not object to animal food.
While I carried our prizes down in triumph to Domingos, that he might prepare a portion of them for breakfast, John continued his search through the woods. I was on the point of joining him, when I heard him cry, “Look out!” and at the same instant another animal burst through the wood with True at his heels. I fired, and killed it. This also was a rodent; and John said that it was a paca, which lives always in the neighbourhood of water, to which it takes readily when chased. It has its habitation in burrows, which it forms a short distance only beneath the surface. The opening it conceals with dried leaves and small branches. Once in the water, it swims and dives so well that it generally escapes from the hunter. It was of a thick and somewhat clumsy form, about two feet in length and one in height. The hinder limbs were longer than the front ones, and considerably bent. The claws were thick and strong, fitted for digging. It had rigid whiskers, and the ears were nearly naked.
Presently I heard John cry out.
“Harry, I believe that I have been bitten by a snake on which I trod,” he said, in his usual calm way. “I killed the creature, and I think it is poisonous; so go and call Domingos, for he will perhaps know what to do. But get him away if you can, so as not to frighten Ellen.”
I ran off as fast as my legs could carry me, and was thankful to find that Ellen and Maria were sitting under the awning in the canoe, while Domingos was cooking at the fire, assisted by Arthur. In a breathless voice, my heart sinking with alarm, I told him what had happened.
“There is a bottle of agua ardente, and there is another thing we will try,” he said, and rushed to the canoe.
I was afraid that he would tell Ellen; but he stepped on board with an unconcerned manner, as if he wanted something for a culinary purpose, and returned with two of the paddles, and a bottle and cup.
We found John seated on the bank, taking off his boot and sock.
“Here, Señor John, drink this,” he said, giving him the cup full of liquid. “Señor Arthur will hold the bottle for you, while Señor Harry and I are making a grave for your leg. We must bury it. Don’t despair, my dear master. The remedy is a wonderful one.”
We were digging away, while he spoke, with the paddles, and in a few moments John’s leg was buried deep in the earth, which was pressed down over it.
“Why, this is brandy,” exclaimed John, as he swallowed the contents of a second cup which Arthur gave him.
“Of course, my dear master,” answered Domingos, who, folding his arms, stood by, watching the effect of his treatment. “Some people think one remedy the best, some another. It is wise to try both. The brandy drives, the earth draws the poison forth.”
Oh, how anxiously we watched John’s countenance! No change took place.
Arthur and I went back, lest Ellen might be alarmed at our absence, leaving Domingos, who stood unmoved, in the same attitude as at first, watching his patient. At last Ellen put her head out from under the toldo, and asked when breakfast would be ready, as she and Maria were very hungry.
“What shall we tell her?” asked Arthur.
Just then I looked up, and saw Domingos coming towards us, waving the dead snake in his hand, and John following, walking as briskly as if nothing had been the matter with him.
“A wonderful cure has been wrought,” he exclaimed, as he reached us. “But don’t tell Domingos yet. Finding myself much as usual, I bethought me, as I sat with my leg in the hole, of looking into the reptile’s mouth; and though it has a set of sharp teeth, I could discover no poisonous fangs. I am only sorry that so much good brandy was expended on me, which may be wanted on another occasion.”
We now summoned Ellen, and told her in English what had occurred. Arthur and I having examined the head of the snake, to assure ourselves that John was right, cut it off and threw it into the river, while True breakfasted off the body, which we cooked for him. Domingos did not discover the truth till some time afterwards; and we heard him frequently boasting of the certain cure he knew for snake bites. I cannot, however, say that his remedy would not prove efficacious.
Having made a good breakfast on the agouti, we once more embarked, and glided down the stream.
I have not dwelt much on our anxiety, but, as may be supposed, we felt it greatly, and our conversation could not fail to be subdued and sad. Ellen, however, after her first grief had subdued, did her utmost, dear, good little sister that she was, to cheer our spirits. Often she kept repeating, “I am sure they have escaped! We shall before long find them. Depend on it, papa would not allow himself to be surprised! I have been praying for them ever since we commenced our journey, and I know my prayers will be heard.”
Although I had felt great despondency, I could not help being influenced by Ellen’s hopeful spirit. Still it seemed to me that the probability of our discovering them along the wide-extended banks of the river was but small indeed. They, too, how anxious they must be feeling on our account; for if they had been in danger, as we supposed, they must know we should be subjected to the same. However, I will not dwell longer on this subject, but only again repeat that our parents and our aunt and Fanny were never absent from our thoughts. A light breeze springing up, we hoisted our mat sail, and glided down the river. Nothing could be more delightful. The light air cooled us, and kept off the mosquitoes; and as the nights were bright, had we not been anxious to examine the shore, we agreed that we might have continued our voyage till it was necessary to land and procure food.
Suddenly, however, the wind again dropped. The sun, which had hitherto been casting his undimmed rays down on our heads, became obscured, as if a thick curtain had been drawn across it. The whole sky assumed a yellow tinge. Domingos looked anxiously round.
“I do not like the look of the weather,” he observed. “It would be wise to lower the sail.”
We had just got it down, when a low murmur was heard in the distant woods, increasing rapidly to a subdued roar. A white line appeared across the river. It came rapidly towards us. Now we could feel the wind blowing against our cheeks, and the whole surface of the water became suddenly rippled into wavelets, from which the white foam flew off in thick sheets. The sky had again changed to a greenish hue. The waves every moment increased in height.
“A hurricane is coming on,” observed Domingos. “We cannot face it.”
We put the canoe’s head towards the shore.
“Paddle, my masters! paddle!” exclaimed Domingos. “We must reach the shore before the storm breaks with its full violence, or we may be lost!”
We had not paddled many strokes before we felt the canoe driven forward by the wind at a rapid rate. We exerted ourselves, running before the wind, and edging in at the same time towards the northern shore. Every instant the hurricane gained strength; and as we looked upward, the whole sky, we saw, had assumed a red and black appearance. A little ahead appeared a sand-bank, on which stood a number of tall-legged birds, cormorants, white cranes, and other waders, large and small. We might land on the island, and save our lives; but the wind setting directly on it, we might lose our canoe, or, at all events, the water would break into her and destroy our goods. Domingos steered the canoe admirably, while we made every effort to keep off the island. Presently down came the blast with greater fury than before. Some of the smaller birds were carried off their legs and borne away by the wind. Others, throwing themselves down, stuck their beaks into the sand, and clung on with their long claws, their feet extended. In spite of our danger, Arthur and I could not help laughing at the extraordinary appearance of the birds, as they thus lay in great numbers along the sand, looking as if they had been shot, and were lying dead till the sportsman could pick them up. On we drove, narrowly escaping being thrown upon the bank, on which the foaming seas broke with terrific force.
“Here it comes again!” cried Domingos. “Paddle bravely, and be not alarmed.”
As he spoke, another blast, still more violent, struck us, and in an instant the covering of our canoe was torn away and lifted up. In vain we attempted to catch it. It was borne off by the wind towards the shore. So high were the waves which thus suddenly rose up, that we expected every moment to be overwhelmed; while we feared that unless we could manage to anchor we should be driven on the bank to leeward, where the canoe would be filled with water, and everything in her carried away. To resist the fury of the waves was impossible. In vain we strove to get under the lee of the island. Destruction yawned before us, when we saw, amid the thick forest trees which lined the bank, a narrow opening. It was the entrance, we hoped, to an igarape,—one of those curious water-ways, or canoe paths, which form a network of canals many hundred miles in extent, on either bank of the Amazon. We exerted ourselves to the utmost to reach it, although the seas which struck the side of the canoe threatened every moment to upset her before we could do so. Ellen and Maria had got out their paddles, and laboured away with all their strength, Maria’s stout arms indeed being a very efficient help. Domingos kept working away with his paddle, now on one side, now on another, now steering astern as he saw was requisite, twisting his features into a hundred different forms, and showing his white teeth as he shouted out in his eagerness. The tall trees were bending before the blast as if they were about to be torn from their roots and carried bodily inland. My fear was, on seeing them thus agitated, that should we get beneath them they might fall and crush us. Still we had no choice. It seemed doubtful whether we should reach the mouth of the igarape.
We redoubled our efforts, and just grazing by a point which projected from the shore, on which, had we been thrown, we should have been upset, we darted into the canal. Even there the water hissed and roared as it was forced into the narrow channel. As an arrow flies through the zarabatana, so we sped up the igarape. For a few seconds Domingos had to exert himself to steer the canoe in mid-channel, to prevent her being dashed against the roots of the tall trees which projected into it. At first the roar of the wind among the trunks and branches was almost deafening. Gradually it decreased, and in a short time we could hear only the distant murmur of the tempest on the outside of the woody boundary. We were not, however, to escape altogether from it, for down came the rain in a pelting shower, to which, from the loss of our awning, we were completely exposed. We quickly, however, rigged another with our sail, which afforded shelter to Ellen and Maria. Having secured the canoe, we all crept under it, and consulted what we should next do. What with the mantle of clouds across the sky, and the thick arch of boughs over our heads, so great was the darkness that we could scarcely persuade ourselves that night was not coming on. We sat patiently, hoping that the rain, which pattered down with so loud a noise that it was necessary to raise our voices to make each other hear, would at length cease. In about half an hour, the shower-bath to which we had been exposed came to an end. But still drops fell thickly from the boughs, and the darkness proved to us that the clouds had not yet cleared away.
After our unsatisfactory meeting with the natives, we were anxious not to remain longer on that part of the shore than necessary. Accordingly we once more paddled down the igarape. We soon found, however, that the wind was blowing too hard to allow us to venture out on the main stream.
On passing downwards we observed a somewhat open space on the north side, and despairing of continuing our voyage that night, we determined to encamp there. Securing our canoe, in which Ellen and Maria sat under shelter, the rest of us, with axes in our hands, set to work to clear the ground and build a couple of huts. We had become such proficients in the art that this we soon accomplished. On account of the weather we built one of them, not only with a roof, but with back and sides, in which Ellen and her attendant could be sheltered. To our own also we built a side on the quarter from which the wind came. Our difficulty was to light a fire. But hunting about, we found some dried leaves in the hollow of a tree, and there was no lack of wood, which, after chopping off the wet outside, would burn readily.
Having made all preparations, we conducted Ellen and Maria to their hut, and carried up our goods, which we placed within it, under shelter. We felt somewhat anxious at our position; but we hoped that the rain would keep any natives who might be in the neighbourhood from wandering about, and by the following morning we should be able to proceed on our voyage. Should we not meet with our father on our way down, we resolved to stop at the nearest Brazilian town on the banks, and there obtain assistance in instituting a more rigid search than we could make by ourselves. Of one thing we were certain, that had he escaped, and got thus far, he would stay there till our arrival. Still we did not abandon all hopes of finding him before that.
We had taken everything out of the canoe, with the exception of the paddles, even to the sail, which served as a carpet for Ellen’s hut. We next turned our attention to cooking further portions of the animals we had killed in the morning. In spite of the storm raging outside, and our anxiety, as we sat round the blazing fire, Ellen and Maria having joined us, the smoke keeping the mosquitoes somewhat at bay, we all felt more cheerful than might have been expected. Midnight had now come on; and having cut up a further supply of wood to keep the fire burning, we slung our hammocks and turned into them, trusting to True to keep watch for us.