WHG Kingston (continued 3)

We had thus been progressing for some time, the only sound heard being that of our footsteps on the rustling leaves, or that produced by the sharp axes of our pioneers, when suddenly our ears were startled by a loud crash, which, contrasted with the previous silence, made it seem as if the whole forest was coming down together. Ellen gave way to a slight cry of alarm. “Do not be afraid, my young friends!” shouted Don José. “It is only an ancient tree, weary of standing so long.” In a short time the crashing sound ceased, and directly afterwards we came in sight of a vast trunk, which had fallen across the path we were about to pass along. We had to make a circuit therefore to avoid it. We could not but feel thankful that it had not delayed its fall till we were passing beneath, although we might possibly have had time to escape, in consequence of its being upheld for a few seconds by the sipos, till its vast weight had dragged them down.

Chapter Five.

The River reached at last.

We were not yet free of the mountains, for numerous spurs of the mighty Andes run eastward, between which the many streams proceeding from their snow-capped heights make their way towards the Amazon. Once more we were compelled to ascend a steep height, and then to proceed along the ridge for a considerable distance; then again we descended, to find at the bottom a roaring torrent. This had to be crossed.

The huge trunk of a tree had been placed by the natives over the deeper part, resting on the rocks on either side. The water hissed and bubbled round it, threatening every instant to carry it away. Isoro, however, urged us to cross without delay. He observed signs in the west, among the mountains, of a coming storm, he said, and should it break before we were safe on the other side, we should be prevented from crossing altogether. Still, as we looked at the frail bridge, John and I were very unwilling to expose Ellen to the risk she must run. At length Don José ordered the Indians to form a long rope of sipos, and to stretch it across the stream, that it might assist to steady the bearers on their passage. This caused some delay. “Hasten! hasten!” cried Isoro. “I hear a sound which tells me that the waters are coming down!”

Don José on this led the way. Arthur kept close to him. I followed with True in my arms, for I had taken him up for fear of his being carried away by the current. Ellen’s bearer same next. John walked close behind her, to render her assistance should it be required. With one hand I grasped the long sipo, with the other I kept tight hold of True. The rest had the advantage of being able to steady themselves with their poles. Domingos assisted Maria. The water, even before we reached the trunk, came roaring and hissing down round our legs, and I had some difficulty in stemming the current. I was thankful when our leader reached the trunk, and began his passage over it. I found it, however, very slippery with the spray which broke over it. I dared not look back to see how it fared with Ellen. I heard her voice, however, as she cried out, “Do not be afraid, Harry; my bearer steps firmly, and I am looking up at the blue sky and the waving tops of the tall trees; I do not feel any alarm.” Still there was a wide extent of bubbling water to be crossed beyond the end of the slippery trunk, and I could hear the loud roar of the waters which came down from the mountains through the ravine. I saw Don José hastening on, and more than once he turned and beckoned us to proceed more rapidly. The end of the bridge was reached. Arthur hesitated to leap into the boiling water. Don José turned round and seized his hand and led him on. I followed. It seemed that every instant the depth of the water was increasing. I trembled for Ellen’s safety, and yet could not venture to look back to ascertain how it was faring with her. I thought too of John, Maria, Domingos, and our Indians. The danger for those who came last would be greatly increased. Had it not been for the sipo, I could scarcely have kept my footing. Now I was wading up to my middle, now climbing over a rock worn smooth by the never-resting waters. The water was here somewhat shallower. I looked round. Ellen’s bearer was following with firm steps, and was close behind me. “On! on!” cried John. Our leader was already near the edge, and I hoped we should soon be in safety, when I heard Ellen utter a shriek of terror. I sprang on to the bank. Her bearer followed. She had not been alarmed on her own account; but now looking across the stream, I saw the bearers following closely on each other, pressing along the bridge. From above the water, in a vast foaming volume, was coming rushing down, roaring loudly. John turned round, and taking Maria’s hand, assisted her up the bank. Domingos clambered after her. Our peons came close together behind. One man was still on the bridge, when the torrent, striking it with fearful force, lifted it off the rock, and away it went wheeling downwards. The peon kept his footing for an instant, then, as it began to turn over, he sprang off it towards the shore; but unable to disengage himself from his burden, he was borne downwards amid the tossing waters. The Indians ran down the bank to try and render him assistance. John and I followed, with Don José, who seemed unusually agitated. Now we saw the man clutching hold of a rock; soon again he was torn off, and went floating downwards. Still he struggled on bravely, making his way towards the shore. I expected every moment to see him give up the unequal contest, for the mighty waters seemed to have him in their grasp. Fortunately the bundle he carried was large, and though heavy out of the water, was light in it, and instead of sinking, assisted to float him.

John and I continued to make our way along the banks with the rest. We had got some distance down, when we saw what appeared to be an eddy or backwater in the river. Below it the stream rushed on with the same impetuosity as before. I called to John. “I think we may save him,” I said; and signed to the Indians to cut some long sipos which hung down from the branches above us. Several flexible ones were speedily cut and fastened together. Both John and I were good swimmers. He secured one to his waist, as did I, signing to the Indians to hold the other ends. Then we dashed into the stream, swimming out towards the struggling Indian. In another moment he would have been carried by us. I reached him just as I was at the extreme end of the sipo. John seized his arm directly afterwards, and together we towed him towards the bank, calling to the Indians to haul the sipo gently in. Soon reaching the bank, we dragged up our nearly drowned companion. Not till then did we discover that he was Isoro, who, it appeared, had taken the load of a sick bearer unable to carry it.

Isoro, as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to speak, thanked us warmly for preserving his life. Don José, who had come up, also added his thanks. “I value him much,” he observed, “and should have grieved deeply had he lost his life.”

We had little time for talking, however, for we had to hurry back to where we had left our companions, as the storm which had been brewing in the mountains now threatened to break over our heads. Our party, therefore, piling up their loads, made haste to erect some sheds similar to those we had already several times built. A quantity of the sindicaspi, or “wood that burns,” was speedily cut, and fires were lighted, at which we dried our drenched clothes. Scarcely had our preparations been made, when the threatening storm burst over us, the wind howling and whistling through the trees, which waved to and fro, making a loud rustling sound; while every now and then we could hear the crashing noise of some patriarch of the forest, as it sank beneath the blast. The rain came in torrents, and the river, surging and swelling, rapidly increased its breadth. We had indeed reason to be thankful that we had not delayed our crossing a moment longer. Our fires were soon put out, and water came rushing down on either side of us through the forest. We, however, had chosen a slightly elevated spot for our camp, which, though surrounded by water, had hitherto escaped destruction. The rain continuing to pour down in a perfect deluge, compelled us to remain in our camp. So secure, however, had the roofs been made, that we kept dry inside. Occasionally John, Arthur, and I ran into Ellen’s hut to pay her a visit. We found her and Maria sitting very composedly, employing themselves with their work, which they produced from one of the bundles they had unpacked. Don José remained in his hut, attended by Isoro. He was much more out of spirits than we had yet seen him.

“My young friends,” he said, “I must soon bid you farewell. I had resolved to accompany you till I could see you embarked on the river. We shall reach it, I hope, in three or four days at furthest, but I cannot be longer absent from my people in these troubled times. I hope that you will soon overtake your father and family, who, from the accounts I have received, intend to wait for you at the mouth of the river, where it joins the Amazon. Though I must return, Isoro has expressed a wish to accompany you. You will find his assistance of value, as he has been among the wild tribes you will encounter on your passage, and knows their habits and customs. They are very different from the people you have hitherto met, and may give you much annoyance, unless cautiously dealt with.”

We were very sorry to hear of Don José’s intention of leaving us, as we had hoped that he intended to accompany us till we could overtake our father, though we were greatly obliged to him for his proposal of allowing Isoro to remain with us.

Once more, the clouds clearing away, we proceeded on our journey. We made, however, but slow progress, as in many places the sipos which had overgrown the path had to be cut way to allow of our passage through the forest. I can scarcely attempt to convey in words an idea of the dense mass of foliage amid which we had to force our way. Vast roots like huge snakes ran out over the ground in all directions, their upper parts forming huge buttresses to the giant stems. Then large ferns shot upwards, while a thick network of vines hung festooned in every possible form above our heads, many hanging down straight to the ground, while numberless curious air-plants hung suspended from the branches. Now and then gaily-plumaged birds were seen flitting amid the thick shade; but we were surprised at the paucity of animal life which existed. Not a quadruped was to be seen. A few monkeys and parrots were occasionally heard, though rarely caught sight of. We had numerous streams to cross; often, indeed, the same stream to cross several times. Frequently the passage was almost as dangerous as that I have described. Sometimes we stopped at the huts of the natives, where we were as usual well received. They were built of bamboo, fastened together with lianas or sipos, the roofs covered with large palm-leaves. They willingly supplied us with such provisions as they possessed. The chief article was yuca flour, with which we made cakes. It is the beet-like root of a small tree about ten feet high. When not hunting, the men appeared to spend their time in idleness. The women, however, were occasionally employed in manufacturing a thread called pita from the leaves of the aloe, which they carry to Quito for sale. Occasionally the men collected vanilla. It is a graceful climber, belonging to the orchid family. The stalk, the thickness of a finger, bears at each joint a lanceolate and ribbed leaf a foot long and three inches broad. It has large star-like white flowers, intermixed with stripes of red and yellow, which fill the forest with delicious odours. They are succeeded by long slender pods, containing numerous seeds imbedded in a thick oily balsamic pulp. The seeds, which are highly esteemed, are used for flavouring chocolate and other purposes. Monkeys are very fond of them, and pick all they find, so that few are left on the wild plants for man’s use. Vanilla is, however, cultivated in Mexico and other parts of the world. The Indians also collected copal. It is a gum which exudes from a lofty leguminous tree, having a bark like that of the oak.

However, I must hurry on with an account of our journey. When we met with no habitations on our way, we were compelled to build sheds in the driest and most open spots we could find. At length, through an arched opening in the forest, the bright sheen of water caught our eyes, and hurrying on, we found ourselves standing on the bank of a stream, which opened up to us a watery highway to the Atlantic.

Still, we were well aware that we had many dangers to encounter. For many hundred leagues we could not hope to meet with Europeans, and although the natives among whom we had hitherto travelled had been friendly, we knew that numerous tribes existed along the banks of the Amazon or its tributaries, who might prove hostile to strangers. Our chief anxiety, however, was about our father and mother. When we might once more meet, we could not tell. Still we felt sure that they would not willingly proceed till we had overtaken them.

We had arrived at a part of the river at a distance from any native village. We had therefore to depend on ourselves for the means of making our intended voyage. We were prepared, however, to build canoes of sufficient size for the accommodation of our reduced party. Accordingly we set to work to erect huts of a more substantial character than those we had hitherto built, in which we might live in some degree of comfort till the work was accomplished. With the assistance of our bearers, in a few hours we had a good-sized hut of bamboos put up, and strongly thatched with palm-leaves. One portion was walled in with a division forming two apartments. The larger was devoted to the accommodation of Ellen and her sable attendant. In the other, our goods were stored; while the rest of us slung our hammocks in a large open verandah, which formed, indeed, the greater part of the building. It was completed before nightfall. In front, between us and the river, a large fire was made up, which, fed by a peculiar kind of wood growing near, kept alight for many hours without being replenished.

We were seated at our evening meal, when we heard footsteps rapidly approaching, and an Indian appeared and saluted Don José. He was a stranger, and had evidently been travelling rapidly. Presenting a packet, he sank down on the ground with fatigue. A cup of guayusa tea soon revived him. Don José meantime opened his packet, and hastily read the contents.

“My young friends,” he said, “I regret that I must immediately bid you farewell. I cannot longer be absent from my people. I know not what may occur; but if their leaders are away, they will have no hope of obtaining their freedom. Your father, however, was right to escape from the country. I am thankful to say that I can give you tidings of him. He has reached the mouth of the Napo in safety, and is there encamped, awaiting your arrival. Here, John, is a missive your father desires me to deliver to you.”

Our friend handed my brother a note written hurriedly in pencil. It ran thus: “The messenger is about to leave, so I must be brief. We are all well, and purpose waiting your arrival on this healthy spot, near the mouth of the Napo. You will without difficulty find it, though we shall be on the watch for all canoes coming down the stream. Pass two rivers on your left hand, then a high bluff of red clay interspersed with stripes of orange, yellow, grey, and white. Proceed another league, till you pass, on a low point, a grove of bamboos. Rounding it, you will find a clear spot on a low hill overlooking the stream. It is there I have fixed our temporary abode.”

“Oh, surely there will be no difficulty in finding them!” exclaimed Ellen. “I wish that the canoes were ready—or could we not set off by land?”

“I fear that you would have to encounter many difficulties,” observed Don José, “if you were to make the attempt. I must counsel patience, the most difficult of all virtues. I wish that I could accompany you—or, at all events, remain till the canoes are ready; but you will find Isoro a skilful builder, and I will direct him to procure the assistance of some of the natives of this region, who will afterwards act as your crew, and navigate your canoes as far as they can venture down the river. After that, Isoro will return with them, as I am afraid that I could not induce him to remain away longer from me, though I would gladly let him accompany you if he would. Still I hope that you will have no great difficulty in accomplishing the short remainder of your voyage till you find your father and the rest of your family.”

John and I thanked Don José again and again for the aid he had afforded us, and the sacrifices he had made on our account.

“Do not speak of them, my young friends,” he replied. “I owe much to your father; and we are united by ties of which he, perhaps, will some day tell you.”

We wished that our friend would explain himself more clearly, but he evidently did not intend to do so, and we therefore could not attempt to press the point. We sat up talking for some time before we turned into our hammocks.

Our hut was romantically situated. Before us flowed the rapid river; on either side rose the thick forest of palms and other trees, round the stems of which circled many a creeper, hanging in festoons from the branches overhead. In the far distance towered the outer range of those lofty mountains we were leaving, perhaps for ever; while round us were scattered the temporary wigwams which our attendants had put up for themselves. The never-ceasing murmur of the waters tended to lull us to sleep in spite of the strange sounds which ever and anon came from the forest, caused by tree-toads and crickets; while occasionally owls, goat-suckers, and frogs joined in the concert with their hooting, wailing, and hoarse croaks. My faithful dog True had taken up his usual place at night below my hammock. Suddenly I was awaked by hearing him utter a loud bark; and looking down, I saw by the fire, which was still burning brightly, a huge alligator poking his snout into the verandah, having evidently climbed up the bank with the intention of making a meal off the dog, or, perhaps, off one of the sleeping natives. True stood bravely at bay, barking furiously, and yet refusing to retreat. Leaping from my hammock, I seized a log, and dashed it in the huge saurian’s face. All the party were speedily on foot. Isoro and Domingos came rushing forward with their long poles to attack the monster; while John, seizing his gun, fired at its head: The ball, however, glanced off its scaly coat. The reptile, finding itself disappointed of its expected feast, and that the odds were against it, retreated, and finally fell over with a loud plash into the stream. The incident warned us of the midnight visitors we might expect, and of the necessity of keeping a watch when sleeping near the river’s bank. The fire was made up afresh. We were all soon again asleep, with the exception of one of the men, who was directed by Don José to keep watch for the remainder of the night.

The next morning our kind friend bade us farewell, and, accompanied by the bearers, took his way through the forest to the Andes. We saw him go with great regret. We remembered the dangers he would have to encounter, and we felt how probable it was that we should never again see him. Our party now consisted of Ellen, Maria, John, Arthur and I, Domingos and Isoro. John and I had our rifles; and Domingos a brace of long horse-pistols, which he took from his holsters when the mules were sent back; with a fair supply of ammunition. We had axes, and a few other tools for building our canoe; a stock of provisions, which had been carefully husbanded; and some bales of cotton and other articles with which to repay the natives for their services, or to purchase food. Isoro was armed with a long bow and spear, and Arthur was anxious to provide himself with similar weapons.

As soon as Don José had gone, Isoro set out according to his directions to find some natives. We were still, it will be remembered, within Peruvian territory; and although but slight communication was kept up with the natives of the scattered villages, yet the Spaniards had for some years past made their power felt, as the Incas had done in former ages, even in these remote districts. Isoro said he had therefore no fear of being ill-treated by any of the natives he might encounter.

As soon as breakfast was over, while John and Domingos remained at the hut, assisting Ellen and Maria to overhaul and re-arrange our goods, Arthur and I strolled out to try and shoot some birds. We had not gone far when we heard, at a little distance off, some loud, shrill, yelping cries. I was sure they were produced by birds, yet Arthur could scarcely believe it. The noises came, it seemed, from above our heads. Looking up, we at length caught sight of several large birds, perched on the higher branches above us, with enormous bills. We approached cautiously, hiding ourselves underneath some wide palm-leaves, between which we could observe the noisy assemblage. The birds seemed to be shouting out “To-o-cânó, to-o-cânó,” and it is on this account that the Indians give them the name from which we derive that of toucans. One was perched above the rest, and he kept bending his neck downwards, and looking about in the most knowing way, as if to ascertain what sort of creatures we could be. The rest seemed to be employing themselves in picking some fruit, every now and then throwing up their huge beaks as if to let it slip down their throats. As we were anxious to procure some fresh food for dinner, I had been getting my gun ready as quietly as possible, and having selected the bird nearest to me, I raised it to my shoulder and fired. Down came the bird, fluttering among the branches, and we ran forward to secure our prize. On examining it, we found that its feet were like those of a parrot. It was of a black colour, with a gloss of green; about fifteen inches in length, with a long tail and short wings; the feathers at the bottom of the back being of a sulphur hue. The cheeks, throat, and fore part of the breast, were of the same tint, while across the lower part of the breast was a broad crimson bar; the under part being also crimson. The remainder of the flock having flown away, I was unable to obtain another shot. These birds we afterwards saw in great numbers. Their large beaks give them an awkward appearance when flying, yet when climbing about the trees they are evidently of great assistance, as also in picking fruit, or catching the insects they find among the bark.

We went some distance before I could get another shot. I then killed a green parrot, and soon after another. Arthur could scarcely believe that we should find them fit for eating. I was on the point of taking aim at a monkey which came peering out at us among the boughs, when he drew back my arm.

“You surely will not kill that creature!” he exclaimed. “I could never bring myself to eat it, if you do; and I am sure your sister would not.”

I told him that monkeys form the principal food of many of the tribes in the country.

“Oh, but then they are no better than cannibals,” he answered.

“Wait a little till we are pressed for want of food,” I said. “Remember our stock of provisions is but small, and if we were to be over-particular, we should starve.” The monkey, however, by his intervention escaped.

We went on for some time, gradually entering a denser part of the forest than we had yet reached. Sipos hung down from every bough, forming a curious tracery of living cordage above our heads, and more completely uniting the tall trees than even the masts of a ship are by the rigging, so that an active midshipman, or a still more agile monkey—I hope the former will pardon me for mentioning them together—could have no difficulty in progressing high up from the ground for miles together through the forest. Strange air-plants swung suspended from the branches, some like the crowns of huge pine-apples, others like parasols with fringes, or Chinese umbrellas—indeed, of all shapes and hues; while climbing plants of the most diverse and ornamental foliage possible wound their way upwards, and then formed graceful and elegant festoons, yet further to adorn this mighty sylvan palace. Such a scene, though often witnessed, seemed fresh and beautiful as at first. As I wished to get another shot or two, we crept slowly on, concealing ourselves as much as possible, lest any birds perched on the boughs might see us and fly away. There was little difficulty in doing so amongst the huge fern and palm-like foliage which surrounded us. In a short time we heard ahead of us a strange chattering and rustling in the trees, and moving cautiously on, we caught sight of a number of dark objects moving about at a rapid rate among the sipos. Stealing cautiously forward, we discovered them to be monkeys at their gambols; and curious gambols they were too. They had white faces, with black coats and thin bodies and limbs, and still longer tails, which kept whisking and twirling and whirling about in the most extraordinary style. Not for a moment were these tails of theirs at rest, except when they had hold of branches to allow their other limbs more freedom. I did not suppose that such muscular power could have existed in an animal’s tail. They seemed to be playing each other all sorts of comical tricks. Now one would catch hold of a horizontal sipo, and swing vehemently backwards and forwards; now two or three would scramble up a perpendicular one, and a fourth would catch hold of the tail of the last and hang by it, whisking about his own tail meantime till it had found a branch of liana, when he would let go, and bring himself up again by that wonderful member of his, and skip away to a distance from his playmate, who might attempt to retaliate. If one happened for an instant to be sitting quietly on a sipo, or gently winging backwards and forwards, another was sure to come behind him and pull his tail, or give him a twitch on the ear, and then throw himself off the sipo out of the other’s reach, holding on, however, firmly enough by his long appendage. One big fellow came creeping up thus behind another, and gave him a sly pinch on the neck. So funny was the face which the latter made as he turned round and lifted up his paw to give the other a box on the ear, that Arthur and I burst into fits of laughter. This startled the whole flock, who peered about them, skipping here and there, chattering to each other, as if to inquire the cause of the strange sounds which had reached their ears. At length one, bolder than the rest, creeping near, caught sight of us, when back he went to communicate the intelligence to his companions. A hurried consultation was evidently held by them, and then more came to look down at us, keeping wisely in the upper branches. We tried to be silent; but so extraordinary were the grimaces they made with their funny little white physiognomies, that we again burst into shouts of laughter, in which True joining with a loud bark, off scampered the monkeys, whisking their long tails, along the sipos and branches, till they were hid from sight, although we could still hear their chattering in the distance. I could not have had the heart to fire at such frolicsome creatures, even had we been more pressed for food than was the case.

“I wish that we could get one of them to tame,” exclaimed Arthur. “It would make a delightful pet for your sister, and a capital playmate for True. They would become great friends, depend on it. He sadly wants a companion of his own amount of intellect, poor fellow.”

“I doubt as to their having any intellect, and I don’t think True would consider himself complimented by having them compared to him,” I answered, laughing, though a little piqued that the sense of my favourite should be rated on an equality with that of a monkey. We discussed the matter as we went along. I was compelled to acknowledge at last that though True had sense, he might not even have reason, only instinct verging on it strongly developed.

“And what are those monkeys?” asked Arthur, who had not quite agreed with me, and wished to change the subject.

“I have no doubt that they are what the French call ‘spider monkeys,’” I answered. “I found a description of them in my book, under the title of Ateles, or Coaita. The white-faced species is the Ateles marginatus. There are several species very similar in their appearance and habits.”

I have more to say by-and-by about these spider monkeys.

We now found that it was time to begin our return to the river. As we were walking on we caught sight of some object moving among the tall grass. Arthur, True, and I followed at full speed. I had my gun ready to fire. It was a huge serpent. It seemed, however, more afraid of us than we were of it. On it went like a dark stream running amidst the verdure, moving almost in a straight line, with only the slightest perceptible bends, and it soon disappeared among the thick underwood. From its size it would have been an awkward creature to be surprised by unarmed; and True, I suspect, would have had little chance of escaping.

Shortly afterwards, looking up among the branches, we saw overhead a large flight of parrots. From their curious way of moving they seemed to be fighting in the air. Presently down one fell from among them, pitching into a soft clump of grass. I ran forward, expecting to find it dead; but scarcely had I taken it in my hand, than it revived, and I had no doubt it had been stunned by a blow on the head from one of its companions. It was of a bright green plumage, with a patch of scarlet beneath the wings. “I am sure your sister would like it for a pet,” exclaimed Arthur; “do let us take it to her!” The parrot, however, seemed in no way disposed to submit to captivity, but struggled violently and bit at our fingers. I managed, however, to secure its beak, and we carried it in safety to the hut.

“Oh, what a beautiful little creature!” exclaimed Ellen as she saw it. “I have been so longing to have some pets, and I am much obliged to you for bringing it to me.”

“I have tamed many birds,” said Maria, “and I hope soon to make this one very amiable and happy.”

Domingos, however, declared that the bird could not be kept without a cage. Some bamboos were growing at a short distance. He cut several small ones, and in a short time had constructed a good-sized cage, with the bars sufficiently close prevent the little stranger escaping. He then set to work to pluck the birds we had killed, and they were quickly roasting, spitted between forked sticks, before the fire. While we were engaged in preparing dinner we caught sight of several persons coming along the banks of the river. Isoro led the way; six natives followed. They were clad in somewhat scanty garments—a sort of kilt of matting, ornamented with feathers, round their waists, their cheeks and body painted with red and yellow. They were, however, pleasant-looking men. They had quivers at their backs, and long tubes, which I soon found to be blow-pipes, in their hands. True at first evidently did not approve of their presence, and went growling about, showing his teeth; but when he saw us treat them as friends, he became quiet, and went and lay down at the entrance to Ellen’s room, eyeing them, however, as if not quite satisfied about the matter.

Isoro introduced the tallest of the party, whose kilt was rather more ornamented than those of his companions, as their chief—Naro by name. He had agreed to build us a couple of canoes, of sufficient size to convey us down the more dangerous parts of the river. After this we were to proceed in one, while he and his men returned in the other. We were to repay him with a dozen yards of cloth, a couple of knives, some beads, and other articles.

As soon as we had finished our roasted toucans and parrots, we set forth with our new allies in search of suitable trees for the shells of the boats. We hunted about for some time before they could fix on one. At length they pointed out one about fifteen feet in circumference. Some of the bark being cut off. I saw that the wood was of a yellow colour, and of a soft nature, which could be easily worked. The Indians, however, shook their heads, declaring that though the wood was good for a canoe, the tree was too large to be cut down. Isoro, in answer, told them that if they could make a canoe out of it, he would undertake to fell it. He soon showed his countrymen that he would make his words good, and wielding his sharp axe, he quickly cut a deep notch in the tree. Naro now seemed satisfied. While some of the party hewed at the trunk, others climbed the neighbouring trees to cut away the festoons of sipos and other creepers which might impede its fall. A road also had to be cleared to the river for the distance of nearly a quarter of a mile. All hands assisted in this work, and by evening we had made considerable progress.

The Indians camped round us at night. One of them had broken his blow-pipe, and was employed in taking it to pieces for the purpose of mending it. I had thus an opportunity of seeing how it was made. It was about ten feet long, and composed of two separate lengths of wood, each of which was scooped out so as to form one-half of the tube. Their tools appeared to be made of the teeth of some animal, which I afterwards found were those of the paca. These two pieces thus hollowed out are fastened together by winding round them long flat slips of the climbing palm-tree called the jacitara. The tube is then covered over with black bees’-wax. A mouth-piece made of wood is fastened to one end, which is broader than the other. From this it tapers away towards the muzzle. I was surprised to find how heavy the instrument was when I came to try and shoot from one. It is called by a variety of names—by the Spaniards, zarabatana; by some natives, the samouran; by others, the tarbucan; by the Portuguese, the gravátana. The arrows are made from thin strips of the hard rind of the leaf-stalks of palms, and are scraped at the end till they become as sharp as needles. Round the butt-end is wound a little mass from the silk-cotton tree, which exactly fits into the bore of the blow-pipe. The quivers were very neatly formed of the plaited strips of a plant growing wild, from which arrow-root is made. The upper part consisted of a rim of the red wood of the japura, highly polished; and it was secured over the shoulder by a belt ornamented with coloured fringes and tassels of cotton. We afterwards saw blow-pipes formed in a different way, two stems of small palms being selected, of different sizes, the smaller exactly to fit inside the larger. Thus any curve existing in the one is counteracted by that of the other. The arrows are tipped with the far-famed wourali poison, which quickly kills any animal they wound.

Next morning we returned to the tree, and worked away as before. Arthur and I undertook to cut down some smaller trees, to serve as rollers on which to drag the huge trunk to the side of the river, where it was to be hollowed out. We had, however, to supply ourselves with food, and two of our new friends prepared to go in search of game with their blow-pipes. Arthur and I begged to accompany them; but they made signs that we must not fire off our guns, as we should quickly put the game to flight, and that we must keep at a distance behind them.

“I wonder what they are going to shoot,” asked Arthur.

“We shall soon see,” I answered, as we followed our friends.

The noise of our operations in the forest had driven away most of its usual inhabitants from the neighbourhood. We therefore had to go some distance before we came in sight of any game. We kept, as we had promised, a little behind our friends. Suddenly one of them stopped, and raising his blow-pipe, a sound like that from a large pop-gun was heard, and we saw a bird, pierced by an arrow, fluttering among the branches. Gradually its wings ceased to move, and down fell a parrot. Advancing a little further, the Indian made us a sign to stop; and looking up among the branches, we caught sight of a troop of the same curious little monkeys with long tails which we had seen the day before. They kept frisking about, now climbing up the sipos, now throwing themselves down, hanging by their tails, and swinging backwards and forwards. Presently one of the natives lifted his blow-pipe, from which sped an arrow, piercing one of the poor little creatures. It hung for an instant by its tail round a branch, and then fell with a crash among the thick leaves. The others kept jumping about, apparently not aware of what had happened to their companion. Thus three or more were brought down before the rest discovered the enemy in their neighbourhood. They then all went off at a rapid rate, swinging themselves from branch to branch, but stopped again at a short distance to watch us.

“I would give anything to have one of those active little fellows alive!” exclaimed Arthur. “Don’t you think, Harry, that we could make the Indians understand what we want?”

“We will try, at all events,” I answered. “But I beg that you won’t laugh at my pantomime.”

Galling to the Indians, I took one of their arrows, and pointing it towards the monkeys, which were still to be seen a little way before us among the trees, eyeing us curiously, I shook my head violently, to show that I did not want it killed. Then I ran forward, and pretended to catch one, and to lead it along. “Now, Arthur, you must act the monkey,” I exclaimed. On this he began frisking about, putting out his hand behind to represent a tail, while I pretended to be soothing him by stroking him on the head and back, and thus inducing him to accompany me.

The Indians watched us attentively, and then nodding their beads, began to talk together. They soon seemed to be agreed as to what we wanted, and signing to us to remain quiet, one of them again crept cautiously towards the monkeys, still frisking about within sight, while the other sat down with Arthur and me. We eagerly watched the Indian. He first selected an arrow, the point of which he scraped slightly and wetted. Presently he placed his blow-pipe within the loop of a sipo.

“Why, he’s going to kill one of the poor creatures after all!” exclaimed Arthur.

“It looks very like it,” I answered. “But we shall see.”

The Indian waited for a few seconds, and then out flew his tiny dart with a loud pop. One of the monkeys was hit. “Oh dear! oh dear!” cried Arthur. “They could not have understood us.” The monkey had been struck when hanging to one of the lower branches; it fell before it had time to save itself with its long tail, and the Indian instantly springing forward, caught it, and pulled out the dart. He then took something out of the bag hanging at his waist, and put it into its mouth, which he kept closed to prevent it from spluttering it out. The poor creature seemed so stunned or bewildered by its fall, and at finding itself suddenly in the grasp of a strange being twenty times its own size, that it made no resistance. The Indian brought it to us in his arms, much as a nurse carries a baby, and showed us that it was not much the worse for its wound. As we went along we observed that its eyes, which were at first dim, had quickly recovered their brightness, while its tail began to whisk about and coil itself round the native’s arm. We were at a loss to account for the wonderful way in which it had so speedily recovered; nor did the Indians seem disposed to tell us their secret.

“I should so like to carry the little creature, it seems already so tame and gentle,” said Arthur.

“You had better not take it from the Indian, or it may give you an ugly bite, and be off and up a tree in a twinkling,” I answered. “It has no cause to love us as yet, at all events.”

Arthur still insisting that he could carry the monkey, asked the Indian to let him have it. The native shook his head, and signified that the monkey would to a certainty escape if he did. At last, however, he and his companion stopped, and fastened the creature’s tail tightly to its back, then they wound a quantity of fibre round its front paws, and finally put a muzzle over its mouth. “There; you may manage to carry him now,” they seemed to say. “But take care, he may slip out of his bonds even yet, if you do not hold him fast.”

The monkey glanced up at the countenance of Arthur, who looked down kindly at the creature, and carried it gently so as not to hurt it.

“I should like to give it a name,” he said; “something appropriate.”

“We will consult Ellen on that important matter,” I answered. “When she sees how active it is, I think she will call it Nimble.”

“Oh yes; that would be a capital name. Do let us call it Nimble,” he exclaimed.

“You and Ellen shall choose its name, and I am sure that John will agree to whatever you decide,” I replied.

This made Arthur perfectly contented, and he walked along stroking the monkey and talking gently to it, till the animal evidently began to feel confidence in him, and lay perfectly quiet in his arms.

The Indians did not as yet appear satisfied with the amount of game they had killed, and were on the look-out for more. I kept my gun in readiness for a shot. “Pray, Harry, do not kill another spider monkey,” said Arthur; “it would make Nimble so unhappy, I am sure.” I promised that I would not; indeed, I had not the heart to wish even to shoot one of the merry little creatures.

We soon afterwards, however, came in sight of several much larger monkeys, with stouter limbs, but excessively active, and furnished with long, strong, flexible tails. I recognised them as the species called by the Portuguese Macaco barrigudo, or the big-bellied monkey. The Indians shot one of them with their blow-pipes, the rest wisely swinging themselves off. The creature had a black and wrinkled face, with a low forehead and projecting eyebrows. The body was upwards of two feet in length, and the tail not much less. As the Indians held him up, Arthur and I agreed that he looked exactly like an old negro.

By the evening we had as many birds and monkeys as we could carry. Arthur offered to carry some of the birds in addition to Nimble, declaring that he could not bring himself to eat our four-handed game. “And that negro-looking old fellow, I would starve rather than touch him!” he exclaimed. “And as for Domingos, I should think him a cannibal if he were to eat him.” Arthur, as we went along, kept trying to prevent his little charge from seeing its dead companions. “I am sure that it would make him unhappy,” he observed; “for how can he tell that he is not going to be treated in the same way!”

So like was one part of the forest to another, that I had no idea we were near our huts when we came in sight of them True heard us approaching and came bounding forth to meet us, leaping up first to lick my hands and then sniffing up at poor little Nimble, who trembled at seeing him, and after vainly endeavouring to escape, clung tightly to Arthur for protection. “Do call off True; there’s a good fellow!” exclaimed Arthur. “He will frighten poor little Nimble to death; but when they are better acquainted they will become very good friends, I dare say.” I called True to me, and presently Ellen and Maria came running out of the hut towards us. Ellen was greatly pleased with Nimble, and thanked Arthur very much for having brought him. We carried Nimble into the hut, and Domingos found a leathern strap to fasten round his waist, by which he was secured to one of the beams in the roof. Here he could run from side to side of the hut, out of the reach of True. He kept looking down on us somewhat scared at first at his novel position, but in a short time took some nuts and fruit readily from Arthur’s hand, and after examining and cautiously tasting them, to ascertain that they suited his palate, ate a hearty meal.

Ellen told us that she and Maria had been greatly alarmed during our absence by the appearance of a large creature—from their account a puma or a jaguar—which had come close to the hut. True had behaved nobly in standing on the defensive, while they had screamed and waved sticks to try to frighten it off. For some time, however, they were afraid that it would attack them, but at last it turned tail and retreated into the forest.

Domingos and our Indian friends lost no time in preparing the game which we had killed. Arthur and I watched them, when Domingos, without at all recognising the likeness which Arthur and I had discovered in the macaco barrigudo to himself, began without ceremony to skin it, and in a short time had it spitted and roasting before the fire. We had formed a rough table, and the first article of food which Domingos placed on it was a portion of the big monkey on a plantain leaf.

“Ah!” he said, “I have reserved this for you; for the meat is superior to that of either the other monkeys or the birds. Just try it, and you will agree with me.”

Had he not talked about the monkey, probably no one would have objected to the meat, which did look very nice; but Ellen and Arthur both begged to have some of the birds, with the addition of some roasted plantains and farinha cakes. We made a very substantial meal, John and I agreeing that the big macaco was very nice food. Domingos thought so also, as he had claimed a joint as his own share.

I was awoke at night by hearing a strange rushing noise round my head, and raising it above the hammock I caught sight of numberless dark creatures with huge wings which kept sweeping round and round here and there through the verandah. Presently one of them pitched on the clew of my hammock. There was sufficient light from the bright stars to see its shape, and I beheld a creature with large ears standing out from the sides and top of its head, a spear-shaped appendage on the tip of its nose, while a pair of glittering black eyes and a grinning mouth gave it the appearance of a little imp. Presently it expanded its large wings and floated towards my head. I could stand this no longer, and singing out, dealt it a blow with my palm which sent it flying away. The cry awoke my companions, who jumped out of their hammocks, wondering what was the matter. We were quickly engaged in driving out the intruders, which we now discovered to be vampire bats. “Hillo!” cried Arthur, “what is the matter with my foot? There is blood flowing from it!” We found that one of the creatures had been sucking his too. John bound it up, and in a short time tranquillity was restored, and we were all soon in our hammocks. Hideous as these creatures appear, they are harmless, as the puncture they make is but slight, and the wound quickly heals. They showed their sense by selecting our hut for their night quarters, as they there found themselves more secure from the beasts which prey on them than in their abodes in the forest.

In the morning we examined several we had knocked down. They measured twenty-eight inches across the wings, which were of a leathery consistency, the bodies being covered with grey hair. We found their stomachs filled with the pulp and seeds of fruits, with the remains of a few insects only.

Our new friend Nimble soon became reconciled to his lot. Though he took food readily enough from Arthur, and by degrees let Ellen and Maria stroke his back, when any one else came near him he clambered up as high as he could reach into the roof. He soon discovered that True could not climb up to his perch, and in a short time he would swing himself off by his tail within a foot or two of the dog’s nose, stretching out his paws as if he were going to catch him by the ear, taking good care to be ready to spring again far out of his reach should True show the slightest signs of leaping up.

“It won’t be long before we see Master Nimble riding on True’s back, and using his tail as a whip,” said Arthur, who had been watching the two animals. He was right; and in a few days Nimble and True became very good friends.

Our boat-building proceeded well. A log of twenty feet in length having been cut off and placed on the rollers, we secured a number of tough lianas to it, and using them as traces, dragged it down to the river. We could, however, move it but slowly, and two whole days were thus consumed. The upper side being smoothed off, a slit was made down the whole length, which was opened slowly by wedges. Having cleared out a considerable portion of the inside, it was turned over and raised on trestles. Beneath it a fire was made along the whole length. Other pieces of hard wood were gradually driven in with wedges to increase the opening, the larger ones being in the centre, where the width was to be the greatest. In about eight hours the work was thus far completed. The bow and tern were made of hewn planks in a circular form, fastened with wooden pins. A plank on each side was next secured, and benches fixed in. The seams were caulked with gum collected from trees growing near, mixed with resin, which exuded from the trunks of others. We thus constructed a vessel, of sufficient size to make a voyage of upwards of one thousand miles down the mighty river, solely of materials found in the wilderness. Paddles were also quickly formed by the Indians of the tough wood of another tree, which they split into boards. They then wove some mats for sails, lianas of different thicknesses serving as cordage.

After this our native friends selected another tree, from which they proposed to form the second canoe. This was to be smaller, that they might be able to paddle it up against the stream. It was built in the same way as the first, but without mast or sails.

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 a manatee, or sea-cow, the peixe boi of 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 them Majeronas; 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 the Majeronas,” 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 the Majeronas,” 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.