WHG Kingston (continued 6)

As we had our guns ready, we did not fear it. It seemed disinclined to move, and, had it not lifted up its tail, we might have supposed it dead. We soon recognised, by the shape of the point, the fearful rattlesnake;—fearful it would be from its venomous bite, had not the rattle been fixed to it to give notice of its approach. We threw sticks at it, but still it did not seem inclined to move. Again it lifted up its horny tail, and shook its rattle. “Take care,” cried John; “keep away.” The serpent had begun to glide over the ground, now looking at one of us, now at the other, as if undecided at which it should dart. I took John’s advice, and quickly retreated. He fired, and shattered the reptile’s head. As it still moved slowly, I finished it with a blow of my stick.

As it would have been inconvenient to drag after us, we cut off the tail, that we might examine it at leisure. We found that the rattle was placed with the broad part perpendicular to the body. The last joint was fastened to the last vertebra of the tail by means of a thick muscle, as well as by the membranes which united it to the skin. The remaining joints were so many extraneous bodies, as it were, unconnected with the tail, except by the curious way in which they were fitted into each other. It is said that these bony rings or rattles increase in number with the age of the animal, and on each casting of the skin it acquires an additional one. The tip of every uppermost bone runs within two of the bones below it. By this means they not only move together, but also multiply the sound, as each bone hit against two others at the same time.

They are said only to bite when provoked or when they kill their prey. For this purpose they are provided with two kinds of teeth,—the smaller, which are placed in each jaw, and serve to catch and retain their food: and the fangs, or poisonous teeth, which are placed without the upper jaw. They live chiefly upon birds and small animals. It is said that when the piercing eye of the rattlesnake is fixed on an animal or bird they are so terrified and astonished that they are unable to escape. Birds, as if entranced, unwillingly keeping their eyes fixed on those of the reptile, have been seen to drop into its mouth. Smaller animals fall from the trees and actually run into the jaws open to receive them. Fatal as is the bite of the rattlesnake to most creatures, the peccary attacks and eats the reptile without the slightest hesitation; as, indeed, do ordinary hogs,—and even when bitten they do not suffer in the slightest degree.

This encounter with the rattlesnake having delayed us for a little time, we hurried on as rapidly as we could to overtake our companions. We had gone some distance, and still had not come up with them. I began to be afraid that we had turned aside from the right path. In some places even our eyes had distinguished the marks of those who had gone before us. We had now lost sight of them altogether, and as the wood was tolerably open, and the axes had not been used, we could only judge by the direction of the sun how to proceed.

We went on for some time, still believing ourselves in the right direction; but at last, when we expected to find the marks of the axes which we had before made, we could discover none. We searched about—now on one side, now on the other. The forest, though dense, was yet sufficiently open to enable us to make our way in a tolerably direct line. Now and then we had to turn aside to avoid the thick mass of creepers or the fallen trunk of some huge tree. We shouted frequently, hoping that Domingos and the Indians might hear us. Then John suggested that they, finding it an easy matter to follow the right track, did not suppose we could lose it. At last we grew tired of shouting, and agreed that we should probably fall in with the proper track by inclining somewhat to the right; and I had so much faith also in True’s sagacity that I had hopes he would find it. However, I gave him more credit than he deserved. He was always happy in the woods, like a knight-errant in search of adventures, plenty of which he was indeed likely to meet with.

Still in the belief that we were not far wrong in our course, we walked briskly forward. We had gone some distance, when True made towards the decayed trunk of a huge tree, and began barking violently. While we were still at a considerable distance, a large hairy creature rose up before us. True stood his ground bravely, rushing now on one side, now on the other, of the animal. It had an enormous bushy tail, curled up something like that of a squirrel, but with a great deal more hair, and looked fully eight feet in length. As we drew nearer we saw that it had also an extraordinary long snout. It seemed in no degree afraid of True, and he evidently considered it a formidable antagonist. Presently it lifted itself up on its hind legs, when True sprang back just in time to avoid a gripe of its claws. Still the creature, undaunted by our appearance, made at him, when, seeing that he was really in danger, John and I rushed forward. We then discovered the creature to be a huge ant-eater, which, though it had no teeth, was armed with formidable claws, with which it would inevitably have killed my brave dog had it caught him. A shot in the head from John’s rifle laid it dead.

It was covered with long hair, the prevailing colour being that of dark grey, with a broad band of black running from the neck downwards on each side of the body. It lives entirely on ants; and on opening its mouth we found that it could not provide itself with other food, as it was entirely destitute of teeth. Its claws, which were long, sharp, pointed, and trenchant, were its only implements of defence. Its hinder claws were short and weak; but the front ones were powerful, and so formed that anything at which it seizes can never hope to escape. The object of its powerful crooked claws is to enable it to open the ant-hills, on the inhabitants of which it feeds. It then draws its long, flexible tongue, covered with a glutinous saliva, over the swarms of insects who hurry forth to defend their dwelling.

The scientific name of this great ant-eater is Myrmecophaga jubata. There are, however, several smaller ant-eaters, which are arborial—that is, have their habitations in trees. Some are only ten inches long. One species is clothed with a greyish-yellow silky hair; another is of a dingy brown colour. They are somewhat similar in their habits to the sloth; and as they are seen clinging with their claws to the trees, or moving sluggishly along, they are easily mistaken for that animal, to which, indeed, they are allied. Some are nocturnal, others are seen moving about in the daytime.

True seemed to be aware of the narrow escape he had had from the formidable talons of the ant-eater, for after this encounter he kept close behind my heels. I hoped that he had received a useful lesson, and would attack no animal unless at my command, or he might do so some day when no friend was at hand to come to his rescue.

We had been walking on after this occurrence for some time in silence, when True pricked up his ears and began to steal forward. I could, however, see nothing. The undergrowth and masses of sipos were here of considerable denseness. Still, as he advanced, we followed him. Presently the forest became a little more open, when we caught sight of a creature with a long tail and a tawny hide with dark marks. “It is a jaguar,” I whispered to John. “It is watching some animal. In a moment we shall see it make its spring.” It was so intent on some object before it, that it did not discover our approach. On it went with the stealthy pace of a cat about to pounce on an unwary bird or mouse. It did not make the slightest noise, carefully avoiding every branch in its way. True, after his late adventure with the ant-eater, was less disposed than usual to seek an encounter, and I was therefore able to keep him from dashing forward as he otherwise would have done.

“The creature is about to pounce on some deer he sees feeding in the thicket,” whispered John; “or perhaps he espies a tapir, and hopes to bring it to the ground.”

Unconscious of our approach, the savage animal crept on and on, now putting one foot slowly forward, now the other. Now it stopped, then advanced more quickly. At length it stopped for a moment, and then made one rapid bound forward. A cry reached our ears. “That is a human voice!” exclaimed John; “some unfortunate native caught sleeping.” He fired as he spoke, for we could still see the back of the animal through the thick underwood. The jaguar bounded up as it received the wound, and the next moment the tall figure of the recluse appeared, bleeding at the shoulder, but otherwise apparently uninjured.

“What, my young friends,” he exclaimed, “brought you here? You have saved my life, at all events.”

“We chanced to lose our way, and are thankful we came up in time to save you from that savage brute.”

“Chance!” exclaimed the recluse. “It is the very point I was considering at the moment;” and he showed us a book in his hand. “Your arrival proves to me that there is no such thing as chance. I was reading at the moment, lost in thought, or I should not have been so easily surprised.”

John then told him how we had waited to see Ellen and our young friend off; and then, in attempting to follow our companions, had lost our way.

“We should have got thus far sooner had we not been delayed by an attack which a great ant-eater made on our dog.”

“If you have lost your way, you will wish to find it,” said the recluse. “I will put you right, and as we go along, we can speak on the point I mentioned. You have some distance to go, for you should know that you have come almost at right angles to the route you intended to take. No matter; I know this forest, and can lead you by a direct course to the point you wish to gain. But I must ask you before we move forward to bind up my shoulder. Here, take this handkerchief. You need not be afraid of hurting me.”

Saying this, he resumed his seat on the log, and John, under his directions, secured the handkerchief over the lacerated limb. He bore the process with perfect composure, deep as were the wounds formed by the jaguar’s claws.

“What has occurred has convinced me that chance does not exist,” he said, resuming his remarks as we walked along. “You delayed some time, you tell me, in watching your friends embark; then, losing your way, you were detained by the ant-eater, and thus arrived at the very moment to save my life. There was no chance in that. Had you been sooner you would have passed me by, for I sat so occupied in reading, and ensconced among the roots of the trees, that I should not have heard you. Had you delayed longer, the fierce jaguar would have seized me, and my life would have been sacrificed. No, I say again, there is no such thing as chance. He who rules the world ordered each event which has occurred, and directed your steps hither. It is a happy and comforting creed to know that One more powerful than ourselves takes care of us. Till the moment the jaguar’s sharp claw touched my shoulder, I had doubted this. The author whose book I hold doubts it also, and I was arguing the point with him. Your arrival decided the question.”

While he was speaking I missed True, and now heard him bark violently. I ran back, and found the jaguar we thought had been killed rising to its feet. It was snarling fiercely at the brave dog, and in another moment would have sprung upon him. True stood prepared for the encounter, watching the creature’s glaring eyes. I saw the danger of my faithful friend and fired at the head of the savage animal. My shot was more effectual than John’s. It fell back dead. John and the recluse came hurrying up.

“We should never leave a treacherous foe behind us,” observed the latter. “However, he is harmless now. Come on. You have a long walk before you; though, for myself, I can find a lodging in the forest, suited to my taste, whenever I please.”

The recluse, as in our former walk, led the way. For a considerable distance he went on without again speaking. There was much that was strange about him, yet his mind seemed perfectly clear, and I could not help hoping that we might be the means of persuading him to return to civilised society. He walked forward so rapidly that we sometimes had difficulty in keeping up with him; and I remarked, more than I had done before, his strange appearance, as he flourished his sharp axe, now striking on one side, now on the other, at the sipos and vines which interfered with his progress. He was dressed merely in a coarse cotton shirt and light trousers secured round the waist by a sash, while a broad-brimmed straw hat sheltered his head. His complexion was burned almost red; his features were thin, and his eyes sunken; but no tinge of grey could be perceived in his hair, which hung wild and streaming over his shoulders.

True, after going on for some time patiently, began to hunt about on either side according to his custom. Presently he gave forth one of his loud cheery barks, and off he bounded after a creature which had come out of the hollow of a tree. Calling to John, I made chase, getting my gun ready to fire. The ground just there was bare, and I caught sight of an animal the size of a small pig, but its whole back and head were covered with scales. In spite of its awkward appearance, it made good play over the ground, and even True, with all his activity, could scarcely keep up with it. It turned its head here and there, looking apparently for a hole in which to seek shelter. He, however, made desperate efforts to overtake it. The base of a large tree impeded its progress, when, just as he was about to spring on it, it suddenly coiled itself up into a round ball. True kept springing round and round it, wishing to get hold of the creature, but evidently finding no vulnerable part. I ran forward and seized it, when, just as I got hold of the ball, I received so severe a dig in my legs from a pair of powerful claws which it suddenly projected, that I was glad to throw it down again.

“You have got hold of an armadillo,” said the recluse, who with John at that moment arrived. “If you want a dinner, or wish to make an acceptable present to your Indian friends, you may kill and carry it with you; but if not, let the creature go. For my part, I delight to allow the beasts of the forest to roam at large, and enjoy the existence which their Maker has given them. The productions of the ground afford me sufficient food to support life, and more I do not require. Yet I acknowledge that unless animals were allowed to prey on each other, the species would soon become so numerous that the teeming earth itself could no longer support them: therefore man, as he has the power, so, I own, he has the right to supply himself with food which suits his taste. I speak, therefore, only as regards my own feelings.”

While he was speaking he seemed to forget that he had just before been in a hurry to proceed on our way, and stood with his arms folded, gazing at the armadillo. The creature, finding itself unmolested, for even True stood at a respectful distance, uncoiled itself, and I then had an opportunity of observing its curious construction. Its whole back was covered with a coat of scaly armour of a bony-looking substance, in several parts. On the head was an oval plate, beneath which could be seen a pair of small eyes, winking, as if annoyed by the sunlight. Over the shoulders was a large buckler, and a similar one covered the haunches; while between these solid portions could be seen a series of shelly zones, arranged in such a manner as to accommodate this coat of mail to the back and body. The entire tail was shielded by a series of calcareous rings, which made it perfectly flexible. The interior surface, as well as the lower part of the body, was covered with coarse scattered hairs, of which some were seen to issue forth between the joints of the armour. It had a pointed snout, long ears, short, thick limbs, and stout claws.

“There are several species of the armadillo,” observed our friend. “The creature before us is the Dasypus sexcinctus. It is a burrowing animal, and so rapidly can it dig a hole, that when chased it has often its way made under ground before the hunter can reach it. Its food consists of roots, fruits, and every variety of soft vegetable substances; but it also devours carrion and flesh of all sorts, as well as worms, lizards, ants, and birds which build their nests on the ground. In some parts of the continent the natives cook it in its shell, and esteem it a great delicacy.”

Whilst our friend was giving us this account, the armadillo, suddenly starting forward, ran off at a great rate into the forest, True made chase, but I called him back, and he came willingly, apparently convinced that he should be unable to overtake the creature, or overpower it if he did.

We were once more proceeding on our way. The day was drawing to a close, and yet we had not overtaken our companions. “You are scarcely aware of the distance you were from the right road,” observed the recluse. “When once a person gets from the direct path, he knows not whither he may wander. It may be a lesson to you. I have learned it from bitter experience.” He sighed deeply as he spoke. At length we saw the bright glare of a fire between the trees. “You will find your friends there,” said the recluse, “and, directed by that, can now go on.”

“But surely you are going with us to the camp?” said John.

“No; I shall seek a resting-place in the forest,” he answered. “I am too much accustomed to solitude to object to be alone, even though I have no sheltering roof over my head. Farewell! I know not whether we shall meet again, but I would once more give you the assurance that I do not forget that you were the means of saving my life; and yet I know not why I should set value upon it.”

In vain John and I entreated him to come on. Not another step further would he advance; and he cut us short by turning hastily round and stalking off into the depths of the forest, while we hurried on towards the camp.

“Oh, there they are! there they are!” exclaimed Ellen, running forward to meet us as we appeared. “I have been so anxious about you, and so has Arthur! Domingos told us he was sure you would come up soon, but I could not help dreading that some accident had happened.”

We had to confess that we had lost our way, and that, had it not been for the stranger, we should still be wandering in the forest.

“And why would he not come to the camp?” she asked. “Arthur is longing to see him again. Duppo has been telling him of the way in which he rescued him from the anaconda. I was at last obliged to tell him what occurred.”

Arthur now came up. “I must thank him!” he exclaimed. “I will run and overtake him.”

We had great difficulty in persuading Arthur of the hopelessness of finding him, and that he would be more likely to lose his own way in the forest.

The Indians had been busily employed in putting up huts for our accommodation. Ellen and Maria, with their pets, had already possession of theirs. We hung up our hammocks in the more open shed which had been prepared for us.

Chapter Thirteen.

Our new resting-place, and the Adventures which befel us there.

Next morning Maono and his people began erecting a more substantial habitation for us, signifying that his white friend, meaning the recluse, had desired him to do so. It was built on the spot we had previously selected near the igarape, and overlooking the main river. A number of stout poles were first driven into the ground, and to their tops others were joined and united in the centre, forming a conical roof, the eaves projecting below to a considerable distance. Palm-leaves were then fastened, much in the fashion I have before described, over the roof, layer above layer, till a considerable thickness was attained. The walls were formed by interweaving sipos between the uprights, a space being left for ventilation. We had thus a substantial hut erected, which it would have taken us, unaided, many days to build. While the Indians were working outside, John and I, with Domingos, formed a partition in the interior, to serve as a room for Ellen and Maria. “We must manufacture a table and some stools, and then our abode will be complete,” said John. Some small palms which grew near were split with wedges into planks. Out of these we formed, with the assistance of Domingos, a table, and as many rough stools as we required.

When all was complete, Maono begged by signs to know whether we were satisfied. We assured him that we were better accommodated than we expected to be. He seemed highly pleased, and still more so when we presented him and his men each with a piece of cloth, he having three times as much as the others. We gave him also an axe, a knife, and several other articles, besides a number of beads, which we let him understand were for his wife and daughter. He, however, seemed rather to scorn the idea of their being thus adorned in a way superior to himself, it being, as we observed, the custom of most Amazonian tribes for the men to wear more ornaments than the women. We understood that his tribe had settled a short way off, in a secluded part of the forest, where they might be less likely to be attacked by their enemies the Majeronas.

We now tried to make Maono understand that we were anxious to have a large canoe built, in which we might proceed down the river. He replied that he would gladly help us, but that he must return to his own people, as they had first to be settled in their new location. To this, of course, we could not object, but we begged him to return as soon as possible to assist us in our work. As soon as he was gone we agreed to hold a consultation as to what we should next do. We took our seats under the verandah in front of our new abode, John acting as president, Ellen, Arthur, Domingos, and I ranging ourselves round him. True, Nimble, and Toby stood by the side of Maria, as spectators, the latter almost as much interested apparently as she was in the discussion, while Poll and Niger stood perched on the eaves above us. The question was whether we should devote all our energies to constructing a large canoe, or make excursions in the small one we already possessed, as we before proposed? We requested Ellen, not only as the lady, but the youngest of the party, to speak first. She was decidedly of opinion that it would be better to build the large canoe, as she was sure that our parents had already proceeded further down the river.

“But what reasons have you for so thinking?” asked John.

Ellen was silent. “Pray do not insist upon my giving my reasons,” she said at last. “I can only say that I feel sure they have gone further down. If they had not, I think we should have found them before this; indeed, my heart tells me that we shall find them before long if we continue our course down the river.”

John smiled. “Those are indeed very lady-like reasons,” he observed. “However, we will record your opinion; and now wish we to know what Arthur has to say.”

“I should like to agree with Miss Ellen, but at the same time cannot feel sure of a matter of which we have no evidence,” said Arthur. “We have not examined the banks up the stream or on the opposite side. Although we have good reasons for supposing that, after quitting their first location, your family proceeded downwards, as the labour of paddling against the current is very great, yet, as they may have stopped at some intermediate spot, I advise that we examine the banks on both sides of the river between this place and that where we expected to find them.”

“Now, Harry, what do you say?” asked John.

“I agree with Arthur,” I replied. “As we came down a considerable distance at night, I say we should examine the shores we then passed. As the greater part of our voyage was performed by daylight, I do not think it at all likely we could have missed them had they been sailing up to meet us. I also advise that we make the excursion we proposed in the small canoe in the first place, while our Indian friends are constructing the larger one.”

Domingos had been standing with his arms folded, as was his custom, watching our countenances. He had perfectly understood what was said. Taking off his hat, he made a bow to Ellen, saying, “I agree with the señora. I feel sure that my honoured master would desire to place his family in safety at a distance from the savage tribe who attacked him, and that, therefore, he has moved further down the river, probably to one of the nearest Portuguese settlements on the banks. But knowing his affection for you, his children, I believe he would have sent back messengers to meet us should he have been unable to return himself. It is they, in my opinion, we should look out for; probably, indeed, they have already passed us. I am sorry that we did not leave some signals at our stopping-places, which might show them where we have been, and lead them to us. Then, again, as Señor Fiel might not have been able to procure messengers at once, and as the voyage up the stream is laborious, they may not have got as far as this. Thus we are right in remaining at this spot, whence we can see them should they approach. I therefore hold to the opinion that the large canoe should be constructed without delay, in which we might continue our voyage, but that we should keep a look-out both by day and night, lest our friends might pass by without observing us.”

“It becomes, then, my duty as president to give the casting vote in this important matter,” observed John, “as the members of the council are divided in opinion. Although the opinion expressed by Ellen and Domingos has probability on its side, yet it must be considered theoretical; while that given by Arthur and Harry is undoubtedly of a more practical character. Should we on exploring the shores higher up find no traces of our relatives, we shall then proceed with more confidence on our voyage, buoyed up with the hope of overtaking them. In the other ease we might be sailing on with the depressing consciousness that, not having searched for them thoroughly, we might be leaving them behind. I therefore decide that, while our Indian friends are engaged in building a canoe, in which work, from our inexperience, we cannot render them any effectual aid, we employ the interval in making the exploring expeditions we proposed. The point to be settled is, how are we to carry out that plan?”

“The small canoe will not convey more than three people at the utmost,” I observed. “I should like to go with Arthur and Duppo, as I at first suggested; while you, John, stay to take care of Ellen, and superintend the building of the canoe. You will be better able than any of us to keep the Indians to their work, and guard Ellen, should any danger occur from hostile Indians, or of any other description.”

“I should certainly have liked to have gone myself,” said John. “But your argument is a strong one. I am sure I can trust you and Arthur, and Duppo, from his acuteness, will be of great assistance to you; and yet I do not like you to run the risk of the dangers to which you may be exposed.”

“It would not be worse for us than for you,” remarked Arthur. “I would willingly stay to defend Miss Ellen; but I am afraid I should not manage the Indians, or act as you would do in an emergency.”

I saw that John put considerable restraint on himself when he finally agreed to let us go. Yet as we were as well able to manage the canoe as he was, and much lighter, we were better suited to form its crew. At the same time, it seemed evident that Ellen would be safer under the protection of two grown-up men, than of lads like Arthur and I. It was necessary, however, to wait to arrange provisions for our expedition, and obtain also the advice of Maono on the subject. We much regretted that we could not communicate with the recluse, as he would have interpreted for us, and would also have given us his advice.

While taking a paddle in our canoe, we agreed that she required considerable alterations to fit her for our intended expedition. Our first task was to haul her up, and strengthen her bulwarks; for it will be remembered that they were before put up in a hurried manner, and were already almost torn off.

We were thus engaged in front of the hut when we heard Ellen exclaim, “There is some one coming.” And looking through an opening in the forest, I saw Duppo and his sister approaching, carrying baskets on their backs. Arthur and I ran forward to meet them. They made signs that they had brought a present of farinha to the young white lady, as they designated Ellen; not by words, however, but by putting a piece of white bark on their own brown cheeks. We then conducted them to Ellen.

“I am so glad to see you,” she said, taking Oria’s hand; and though the Indian girl could not understand the words, she clearly comprehended the expression of my young sister’s countenance, which beamed with pleasure. Maria grinned from ear to ear, not at all jealous of the attention her young mistress paid the pretty native; and all three were soon seated in front of the hut, talking together in the universal language of signs. It was extraordinary how well they seemed to understand each other. Oria’s garments were certainly somewhat scanty; but in a short time Maria ran into the hut, and quickly returned with a petticoat and scarf, part of Ellen’s wardrobe. Nothing could exceed the delight of the young savage (for so I may properly call her) when her white and black sisters robed her in these garments. Pretty as was her countenance, it usually wanted animation; but on this occasion it brightened up with pleasure. The clothes seemed at once to put her more on an equality with her companions. When they had talked for a time, Ellen called out her pets to introduce them to Oria, who signified that if it would gratify her new friend she would undertake to obtain many more.

“Oh, yes, yes!” exclaimed Ellen. “I should so like to have some of those beautiful little humming-birds which have been flying about here lately, feeding on the gay-coloured flowers growing on the open ground around, or hanging by their long tendrils from the trees.”

Neither Duppo nor Oria could understand these remarks, but they did the signs which accompanied them; and they both answered that they hoped soon to obtain for her what she wished.

We then took Duppo down to the canoe, and I tried to explain to him our intention of making a voyage in her. This he understood very clearly; indeed, the recluse had, we suspected, already intimated to the Indians our anxiety about our missing friends. Duppo was of great assistance to us in repairing the canoe and putting on fresh bulwarks. We determined, in addition to the paddles, to have a mast and sail. We had some light cotton among our goods, which would answer the purpose of the sail, and could be more easily handled, and would therefore be less dangerous, than a mat sail.

We found that Oria had taken the invitation as it was intended, and had come to remain with Ellen.

“I am so glad,” said our sister, when she discovered this. “I shall now be able to teach her English; and, I am sure, we shall be great friends.”

“But would you not also be able to teach her about the God of the English?” said Arthur, in a low voice. “That is of more consequence. She now knows nothing of the God of mercy, love, and truth. From what I can learn, these poor savages are fearfully ignorant.”

“Oh yes,” said Ellen, looking up. “I shall indeed be glad to do that. I am so thankful to you, Arthur, for reminding me.”

“We should remember that that Saviour who died for us died for them also,” said Arthur; “and it is our duty to make known that glorious truth to them.”

“It will be a hard task though, I fear,” remarked Ellen, “as Oria does not yet know a word of English; and though we may make signs to show her what we want her to do, I do not see how we can speak of religion until she understands our language.”

“The more necessity then for teaching her without delay,” observed Arthur. “She seems very intelligent; and if we lose no opportunity of instructing her, I hope she may soon acquire sufficient knowledge to receive the more simple truths, which, after all, are the most important.”

“Then I will begin at once,” said Ellen. “She has already been trying to repeat words after me; and I hope before the end of the day to have taught her some more.”

Ellen was in earnest. Our dear little sister, though very quiet and gentle, had a determined, energetic spirit. It was very interesting to see her labouring patiently to teach the young Indian girl. Duppo had already learned a good many words, and seemed to understand many things we said to him. We scarcely ever had to repeat the name of a thing more than two or three times for him to remember it; and he would run with alacrity to fetch whatever we asked for.

We had much more trouble in teaching manners to our dumb companions; for in spite of Master Nimble’s general docility, he was constantly playing some trick, or getting into scrapes of all sorts. One day he was seen by Duppo trying to pull the feathers out of Niger’s head; and on another occasion he was discovered in an attempt to pluck poor Poll, in spite of her determined efforts to escape from his paws. He often sorely tried True’s good-temper; while if a pot or pan was left uncovered, he was sure to have his fingers in it, to examine whether its contents were to his liking.

We were working at the canoe one morning when I heard Maria’s voice calling to us.

“See what it is she wants, Harry,” said John, who was busily employed.

I ran up to the hut.

“O Señor Harry!” exclaimed Maria, “Nimble has scampered off into the woods, and enticed Toby to go with him; and Señora Ellen has run after them, and I do not know what may happen if there is no one near to protect her.”

I took up my gun on hearing this, and followed Ellen, whose dress I caught a glimpse of among the trees. Presently I saw her, as I got nearer, throw up her hands, as if she had seen some object which had alarmed her. I hurried on.

“What is it, Ellen?” I shouted out.

“Oh, look there, Harry!” she exclaimed. “They will catch Nimble and Toby.”

I sprang to her side, and then saw, just beyond a thicket of ferns, two huge pumas, which were on the point of springing up a tree, among whose branches were clinging our two pets, Nimble and Toby, their teeth chattering with terror, while their alarm seemed almost to have paralysed them. In another instant they would have been in the clutches of the pumas. I was more concerned about my dear little sister’s safety than for that of her monkeys. At first I thought of telling her to run back to the hut; but then it flashed across me that the pumas might see her and follow. So I exclaimed, “Get behind me, Ellen; and we will shout together, and try and frighten the beasts. That will, at all events, bring John to our help.”

We shouted at the top of our voices. I certainly never shouted louder. Meantime I raised my gun, to be ready to fire should the pumas threaten to attack us or persist in following our pets. Scarcely had our voices ceased, when I heard True’s bark, as he came dashing through the wood. The pumas had not till then discovered us, so eagerly had they been watching the monkeys. They turned their heads for a moment. Nimble took the opportunity of swinging himself out of their reach. Ellen shrieked, for she thought they were going to spring at us. I fired at the nearest, while True dashed boldly up towards the other. My bullet took effect, and the powerful brute rolled over, dead. The sound of the shot startled its companion; and, fortunately for gallant little True, it turned tail, and bounded away through the forest,—John, who had been hurrying up, getting a distant shot as it disappeared among the trees. Arthur and the two Indians followed John, greatly alarmed at our shouts and the sound of the firearms.

Nimble and Toby, still chattering with fear, came down from their lofty retreat when we called them, and, looking very humble and penitent, followed Ellen to the hut; while we, calling Domingos to our assistance, set to work to skin the puma. The meat we cooked and found very like veal, and Domingos managed to dress the skin sufficiently to preserve it.

Duppo had clearly understood Ellen’s wish to have some humming-birds caught alive. We were always up at daybreak, to enjoy the cool air of the morning. He had gone out when the first streaks of dawn appeared in the eastern sky, over the cold grey line of the river. When we could do so with safety, we never failed to take a bath. We had just come out of the water, and were dressing, when Duppo ran up, and signed to us to follow him. We called Ellen as we passed the hut, and all together went towards the igarape, where, in a more open space than usual, a number of graceful fuschia-looking flowers, as well as others of different forms, hung suspended from long tendrils, intertwined with the branches of the trees. Into this spot the rising sun poured its glorious beams with full brilliancy. We cautiously advanced, when the space before us seemed suddenly filled with the most beautiful sparking gems of varied colours, floating here and there in the bright sunlight. I could scarcely believe that the creatures before us belonged to the feathered tribes, so brilliant were their hues, so rapid their movements. Sometimes they vanished from sight, as they darted with inconceivable rapidity from branch to branch. Now one might be seen for an instant hovering over a flower, its wings looking like two grey filmy fans expanded at its sides. Then we could see another dip its long slender bill into the cup of an upright flower. Now one would come beneath a suspended blossom. Sometimes one of the little creatures would dart off into the air, to catch some insect invisible to the eye; and we could only judge of what it was about by its peculiar movements. As we watched, a tiny bird would perch on a slender twig, and rest there for a few seconds, thus giving us an opportunity of examining its beauties. Ellen could scarcely restrain her delight and admiration at the spectacle; for though we had often seen humming-birds before, we had never beheld them to such advantage. The little creature we saw had a crest on the top of its head of a peculiarly rich chestnut, or ruddy tint. The upper surface of the body was of a bronzed green hue, and a broad band of white crossed the lower part, but the wings were purple-black. The chief part of the tail was chestnut. The forehead and throat were also of the same rich hue. On either side of the neck projected a snow-white plume, tipped with the most resplendent metallic green. The effect of these beautiful colours may be imagined as the birds flew rapidly to and fro, or perched on a spray, like the one I have described. Another little creature, very similar to it, was to be seen flying about above the heads of the others. It also had a crest, which was of the same colour as the others, but of a somewhat lighter tint; while at the base of each feather, as we afterwards observed, was a round spot of bronzed green, looking like a gem in a dark setting. The crest, which was constantly spread out, appeared very like that of a peacock’s tail, though, as Ellen observed, it would be a very little peacock to have such a tail. On searching in our book, we found that the first of these humming-birds we had remarked was a tufted coquette (Lophornis ornatus), while the other, which we seldom saw afterwards, was the spangled coquette. These birds, with several others of similar habits and formation, are classed separately from the Trochilidae, and belong to the genus Phaëthornis. They are remarkable for the long pointed feathers of their tails, the two central ones being far longer than the rest. We met with a greater number of them than of any other genus on the banks of the Amazon.

After we had enjoyed the spectacle for some time, Duppo begged us to come a little further, when he showed us a beautiful little nest, secured to the innermost point of a palm-leaf. On the top of the leaf a little spangled coquette was watching her eggs within. Unlike the nests of the Trochilidae, which are saucer-shaped, it was of a long, funnel-like form, broad at the top and tapering towards the lower part. The outside, which was composed of small leaves and moss, had a somewhat rugged appearance; but the inside, as we had reason to know, was soft and delicate in the extreme, being thickly lined with silk-cotton from the fruit of the sumaüma-tree. Below the first was perched a tufted coquette, looking as boldly at us as any town sparrow. The little creatures, indeed, kept hovering about; and one came within a few feet of our faces, as much as to ask how we dared to intrude on its domains. More pugnacious or brave little beings do not exist among the feathered tribes.

I cannot hope to describe with any degree of accuracy the numbers of beautiful humming-birds we met with in different places; for though some are migratory, the larger proportion strictly inhabit certain localities, and are seldom met with, we were told, in any other. The humming-birds of the Andes, of which there are a great variety, never descend into the plains; nor do those of the plains attempt to intrude on the domains of their mountain relatives. Although they may live on the nectar of flowers, they have no objection to the tiny insects they find among their petals, or which fly through the air, while many devour as titbits the minute spiders which weave their gossamer webs among the tall grass or shrubs.

“I should not think that any human being could catch one of those little creatures,” said Ellen, as we returned homewards. “The sharpest-eyed sportsman would find it difficult to hit one with his fowling-piece.”

“He would certainly blow it to pieces,” observed John, “if he made the attempt. They are shot, however, with sand; and perhaps our young Indian friend himself will find the means of shooting one, if he cannot capture it in some other way.”

“Oh, I would not have one shot for the world!” exclaimed Ellen. “Pray let him understand that he must do nothing of the sort for my sake.”

While we were at breakfast, Duppo, who had disappeared, came running up with one of the beautiful little creatures which we had seen in his hand. It seemed much less alarmed than birds usually are in the grasp of a boy. Perhaps that was owing to the careful way in which Duppo held it.

“Oh, you lovely little gem!” exclaimed Ellen; “but I am sure I shall never be able to take proper care of it.”

Duppo, who seemed to understand her, signified that Oria would do so for her. Oria, who had been watching us taking sugar with our tea, and had by this time discovered its qualities, mixed a little in a spoon, which she at once put before the bill of the little humming-bird. At first it was far too much alarmed to taste the sweet mess. At length, growing accustomed to the gentle handling of the Indian girl, it poked out its beak and took a sip. “Ho, ho!” it seemed to say, “that is nice stuff!” and then it took another sip, and very soon seemed perfectly satisfied that it was not going to be so badly off, in spite of its imprisonment. Oria intimated that she would in time make the little stranger quite tame.

“But we must keep it out of the way of Master Nimble’s paws, for otherwise he would be very likely to treat it with small ceremony,” observed John. “Why, Ellen, you will have a perfect menagerie before long.”

“Yes, I hope so,” she answered; “I am not nearly contented yet. I should like to have one of those beautiful little ducks you were telling me of, and as many humming-birds as I can obtain.”

“Perhaps you would like to have a jaguar or puma,” said John. “If caught young, I dare say they can be tamed as well as any other animal.”

“I am afraid they would quarrel with my more harmless pets,” answered Ellen. “And yet a fine large puma would be a good defence against all enemies.”

“Not against an Indian with a poisoned arrow. He would be inconvenient, too, to transport in our canoe. I hope therefore you will confine yourself to small animals, which will not occupy much space. You may have as many humming-birds as you like, and half-a-dozen monkeys, provided they and Nimble do not quarrel.”

“Except some pretty little monkeys, I do not wish for any others besides those I already have,” said Ellen.

Duppo and Oria understood Ellen’s wish to obtain living creatures, and they were constantly seeking about, and coming back sometimes with a beautiful butterfly or moth, sometimes with parrots and other birds.

While we were getting the canoe ready, Ellen and Maria, with the assistance of Oria, had been preparing food for us—baking cakes, and drying the meat of several birds and animals which John had killed. We had hoped to see the large canoe begun before we took our departure, but as the Indians had not arrived, we agreed that it would be better to lose no more time, and to start at once.

We took an experimental trip in the canoe before finally starting. We could have wished her considerably lighter than she was; at the same time, what she wanted in speed, she possessed in stability.

Early in the morning we bade Ellen and John, with our faithful attendants, good-bye. Oria, we thought, exhibited a good deal of anxiety when we were about to shove off, and she came down to the water and had a long talk with her brother, evidently charging him to keep his wits about him, and to take good care of us. Dear Ellen could scarcely restrain her tears. “Oh, do be careful where you venture, Harry!” she said. “I dread your falling into the power of those dreadful savages.” John also gave us sundry exhortations, to which we promised to attend.

We were just in the mouth of the igarape, when we saw in the distance a small canoe coming down it. We therefore waited for her arrival. She drew nearer. We saw that only two people were in her, and we then recognised our friend Maono and his wife Illora. They were bringing a quantity of plantains and other fruits, with which the centre of the canoe was filled. Among others were several crowns of young palm-trees, which, when boiled, are more delicate than cabbages, and are frequently used by the natives. Maono was dressed in his usual ornaments of feathers on his arms and head, his hair being separated neatly in the centre, and hanging down on either side. Round his neck was a necklace, and his legs were also adorned like his arms.

“I have been thinking a good deal lately about the account of the early voyagers, who declared that they met a nation of warrior-women on the banks of this river,” observed Arthur; “and looking at Maono, it strikes me that we have an explanation of the extraordinary circumstance. If a party of strangers were to see a band of such men, with shields on their arms, guarding the shores, they would very likely suppose them, from their appearance, to be females, and consequently, not having had any closer view of them, they would sail away, declaring that they had met a party of Amazons, who had prevented their landing. It was thus this mighty river obtained the name of the Amazon. The idea would have been confirmed, had they seen in the distance a band of people, without ornaments of any description, carrying burdens on their backs. These the strangers would naturally have supposed to be slaves, taken in war, and employed to carry the baggage of the fighting ladies.” I agreed with him that it was very likely to have been the case.

As our friends drew near, Duppo spoke to them, and told them where we were going. He then explained to us that if we would wait a little longer, they would accompany us and assist us in our search. On reaching the shore, they carried up their present to Ellen, Illora, I must confess, bearing the larger portion. Some of the plantains and fruits they put into our canoe as they passed. They had another long talk, by the usual means of signs, with John and Domingos, who managed tolerably well to comprehend their meaning. We asked Duppo how it was they came to have a canoe. He replied that they had found one which had been left behind by the Majeronas, and, as we understood, they had brought it down through the igarape, which communicated with another river to the north of us, running into the main stream. When I heard this, the idea struck me that we were not yet altogether free from the danger of being attacked by the Majeronas, who, having possessed themselves of our canoe and those of our friends, might some night come down and take us by surprise.

I jumped on shore and took John aside, so that Ellen could not hear me, that I might tell him my fears. “You are right to mention them to me,” he answered; “at the same time, I do not think we need be alarmed. I will, however, try and explain your idea to the Indians, and get them to place scouts on the watch for such an occurrence. I certainly wish we were further off; but yet, as we are now at a considerable distance from their territory, we shall be able to hear of their approach, should they come, in time to escape. We must make our way through the woods to the hut of the recluse, and I am very sure that he will be able to afford us protection. From what he said, he is well-known among all the surrounding tribes, who appear to treat him with great respect. Though we may lose such of our property as we cannot carry off, that will be of minor importance if we save our lives. For my part, however, I am under no apprehension of the sort; and I am very glad you did not mention your fears in the presence of Ellen.”

Though I hoped I might be wrong in supposing an attack possible, I was satisfied at having warned John before going away. Arthur and I tried to make Duppo understand our plans, that he might describe them to his father and mother. They, in return, signified that they would proceed part of the way with us, and make inquiries as they went along, having been requested to do so by their white friend—meaning the recluse.

John, Ellen, Domingos, and Maria came down to the edge of the water once more to see us off, accompanied by Nimble and Toby—Toby placed on the shoulders of Domingos, while Nimble perched himself on John’s arm, holding him affectionately round the neck with his tail. Poll and Niger always accompanied Ellen. “We shall soon be back!” I exclaimed, as I shoved off; “and who knows but that we may be accompanied by papa, mamma, Fanny, and Aunt Martha! Ellen, you must get out your books, for she will be shocked at finding that you have been so long idle.” With these and other cheerful remarks we backed away from the shore, then, turning the canoe’s head round, proceeded after our Indian friends. By keeping close to the banks we were out of the current, and thus made good way. Sometimes I steered, sometimes Duppo. Arthur always begged that he might keep at his paddle, saying he did not like to take the place of those who had more experience than himself. A light wind at length coming from the eastward, we hoisted our sail, and got ahead of Maono and his wife. The wind increasing, we ran the other canoe out of sight; but Duppo assured us that his father and mother would soon catch us up, and that we need not therefore wait for them. We looked into every opening in the forest which lined the bank, in the faint hope of seeing the habitation of our friends; but not a hut of any description was visible; indeed, the shores were mostly lined with so dense a vegetation, that in but few places could we even have landed, while often for leagues together there was not a spot on which a hut could have been built. The wind again falling, we were obliged once more to lower our sail and to take to our paddles, when we were quickly rejoined by our Indian friends. As it was important to examine every part of the shore carefully, we had agreed, if we could find an island, to land early in the evening on it.

Chapter Fourteen.

Our exploring expedition—fearful danger.

A week had passed away. We had crossed the stream several times to examine the southern bank of the river, and every inch of the northern bank had been explored. Sometimes we met Maono and his wife to compare notes, and then we again separated to continue our explorations. We were now once more proceeding up the Napo, with high clay banks surmounted by lofty forest trees above our heads. “I see some people moving on the shore there. O Harry! can it be them?” exclaimed Arthur. Several persons appeared coming through an opening in the forest, at a spot where the ground sloped down to the water. We could, however, see no habitation.

“It is possible,” I answered. We passed this part of the river in the dark, and might thus have missed them.

Having been exploring the western bank, we were crossing the river at that moment. As we paddled on, my heart beat with excitement. If it should be them after all! The people stopped, and seemed to be observing us. We paddled on with all our might, and they came down closer to the water. Suddenly Duppo lifted up his paddle and exclaimed, “Majeronas!” We looked and looked again, still hoping that Duppo might have been mistaken; but his eyes were keener than ours. Approaching a little nearer, we were convinced that he was right. To go closer to the shore, therefore, would be useless and dangerous. We accordingly paddled back to the side we had just left, where we once more continued our upward course.

We had parted two days before this from Maono and Illora, who were to explore part of the bank we had left unvisited, and to meet us again at the island where we had been so nearly wrecked at the mouth of the igarape. We had almost reached the spot where we had expected to find my father and the rest of our family. The shores of the river were occasionally visited, as we had learned by experience, by the Majeronas, though not usually inhabited by them. It was therefore necessary to use great caution when going on shore. We landed, however, whenever we saw a spot where we thought it possible our friends might have touched on their voyage, in the hope that they might there have left some signal or note for us. The banks were here very different from those lower down. In many places they were composed of sand or clay cliffs of considerable height, often completely overhanging the river, as if the water had washed away their bases—indeed, such was undoubtedly the case. Frequently the trees grew to the very edge of these cliffs, their branches forming a thick shade over the stream. To avoid the hot sun we were tempted to keep our canoe close under them, as it was very pleasant to be able to paddle on in the comparatively cool air. Thus we proceeded, till we arrived at the spot where we had been so bitterly disappointed at not finding my family. No one was to be seen, but we landed, that we might again examine it more carefully. The ground on which the hut had stood still remained undisturbed, though vegetation had almost obliterated all the traces of fire. After hunting about in vain for some time, we took our way back to the canoe. We had nearly reached the water’s edge, when Arthur exclaimed that he saw something white hanging to the lower branch of a tree, amid the thick undergrowth which grew around. We had some difficulty in cutting our way up to it. We then saw a handkerchief tied up in the shape of a ball.

“Why, it is only full of dried leaves!” exclaimed Arthur, as we opened it.

“Stay a moment,” I answered. “I think there is something within them though.”

Unrolling the leaves, I found a small piece of paper, torn apparently from a pocket-book. On it were written a few lines. They were: “Dear Brothers,—I trust you will see this. Enemies are approaching, and our father has resolved to quit this spot and proceed down the river. We hope to send a messenger up to warn you not to land here, but I leave this in case you should miss him, and do so. Where we shall stop, I cannot say; but our father wishes, for our mother’s sake and mine, and Aunt Martha’s, not again to settle till we reach a part of the river inhabited by friendly natives. That will, I fear, not be till we get some way down the Amazon. I am warned to finish and do this up. The natives are seen in the distance coming towards us.”

This note, the first assurance we had received that our family had escaped, greatly raised our spirits. We had now only to make the best of our way back to John and Ellen with the satisfactory intelligence. We accordingly hurried back to the canoe, and began our downward voyage. We had gone some distance when we saw a small opening in the river, where, on the shore, two or three canoes were hauled up. They might belong to friendly natives, from whom we might obtain some fish or other fresh provisions, of which we were somewhat in want. We were about to paddle in, when we caught sight of several fierce-looking men with bows in their hands, rushing down towards the bank. Their appearance and gestures were so hostile that we immediately turned the head of our canoe down the stream again, and paddled away as fast as we could. We had not, however, got far, when, looking back, we saw that they had entered one of the larger canoes, and were shoring off, apparently to pursue us. We did our best to make way, in the hope of keeping ahead of them. I should have said the weather at this time had been somewhat changeable. Clouds had been gathering in the sky, and there was every sign of a storm. As I have already described two we encountered, I need not enter into the particulars of the one which now broke over us. Under other circumstances we should have been glad to land to escape its fury, but as it was, we were compelled to paddle on as fast as we could go. On looking back, we saw that the Indians were actually pursuing us. “Never fear,” cried Arthur. “We shall be able to keep ahead of them!” The lightning flashed vividly, the rain came down in torrents, but through the thick wall of water we could still see our enemies coming rapidly after us. Although the current, had we stood out into the middle of the stream, might have carried us faster, the shortest route was by keeping near the bank. The Indians followed the same course. True rushed to the stern, and stood up barking defiance at them, as he saw them drawing nearer. I dreaded lest they should begin to shoot with their poisoned arrows. Should they get near enough for those fearful weapons to reach us, our fate would be sealed. Only for an instant could we afford time to glance over our shoulders at our foes. Nearer and nearer they drew. Duppo courageously kept his post, steering the canoe, and paddling with all his might. Every moment I expected to see them start up and let fly a shower of arrows at us. I might, of course, have fired at them; but this would have delayed us, and probably not have stopped them. Our only hope of escape therefore depended upon our being able to distance them. Yet they were evidently coming up with us. We strained every nerve; but, try as we might, we could not drive our little canoe faster than we were going.

My heart sank within me when, looking back once more, I saw how near they were. In a few minutes more we might expect to have a shower of arrows whizzing by us, and then we knew too well that, though we might receive comparatively slight wounds, the deadly poison in them would soon have effect. This did not make us slacken our exertions, though scarcely any hope of escape remained. Still we knew that something unforeseen might intervene for our preservation. I do hold, and always have held, that it is the duty of a man to struggle to the last. “Never say die!” is a capital motto in a good cause.

The rain poured down in torrents, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and gusts of wind swept down the river. We were, however, greatly protected by the bank above us. The storm blew more furiously. We could see overhead branches torn from the trees and carried into the stream. Still the Indians, with unaccountable pertinacity, followed us. We scarcely now dared look behind us, as all our energies were required to keep ahead; yet once more I turned round. Several of our pursuers were standing up and drawing their bows. The arrows flew by us. “Oh, I am hit!” cried Arthur. “But I wish I had not said that. Paddle on! paddle on! I may still have strength to go on for some time.” Now, indeed, I felt ready to give way to despair; still, encouraged by Arthur, I persevered. For a moment only he ceased paddling. It was to pull the arrow from the wound in his shoulder; then again he worked away as if nothing had occurred. The next flight of arrows, I knew, might be fatal to all of us. I could not resist glancing round. Once more the Indians were drawing their bows; but at that instant a fearful rumbling noise was heard, followed by a terrific crashing sound. The trees above our heads bent forward. “Paddle out into the middle of the stream!” cried Arthur. Duppo seemed to have understood him, and turned the canoe’s head away from the shore. The whole cliff above us was giving way. Down it came, crash succeeding crash, the water lashed into foam. The spot where the canoe of our savage pursuers had last been seen was now one mass of falling cliff and tangled forest. Trees were ahead of us, trees on every side. The next instant I found myself clinging to the branch of a tree. True had leaped up to my ride. Duppo was close to me grasping the tree with one hand, while he held my gun above his head in the other. I took it from him and placed it in a cleft of the trunk. Without my aid he quickly climbed up out of the water. The canoe had disappeared, and where was Arthur? The masses of foam, the thick, down-pouring rain, the leaves and dust whirled by the wind round us, concealed everything from our sight.

“Arthur!—Arthur!—where are you?” I cried out. There was no answer. Again I shouted at the top of my voice, “Arthur!—Arthur!” The tree, detached from the bank, now floated down the stream. I could only hope that it would not turn over in the eddying waters. Still the loud crashing sounds of the falling cliff continued, as each huge mass came sliding down into the river. The current, increased in rapidity by the rain, which had probably been falling much heavier higher up the stream, bore us onward. Oh, what would I have given to know that my friend had escaped! I could scarcely feel as thankful as I ought to have done for my own preservation, when I thought that he had been lost.

The whole river seemed filled with uprooted trees; in some places bound together by the sipos, they formed vast masses—complete islands. On several we could see creatures moving about. Here and there several terrified monkeys, which had taken shelter from the storm in a hollow trunk, were now running about, looking out in vain for some means of reaching the shore. Ahead of us we distinguished some large animal on a floating mass, but whether jaguar, puma, or tapir, at that distance I could not make out. No trace of the Indians or their canoe could we discover. It was evident that they had been entirely overwhelmed; indeed, as far as we could judge, the landslip had commenced close to the spot where we had last seen them, and they could not have had the warning which we received before the cliff was upon them. Not for a moment, however, notwithstanding all the terrifying circumstances surrounding me, were my thoughts taken off Arthur. Wounded as he had been by the poisoned dart, I feared that, even had he not been struck by the bough of a falling tree, he would have sunk through weakness produced by the poison. It made me very sad. Duppo was trying to comfort me, but what he said I could not understand. Our own position was indeed dangerous in the extreme. Any moment the tree might roll over, as we saw others doing round us: we might be unable to regain a position on the upper part. Should we escape that danger, and be driven on the bank inhabited by the hostile Majeronas, they would very probably put us to death. I had, however, providentially my ammunition-belt round my waist, and my gun had been preserved; I might, therefore, fight for life, and if we escaped, kill some animals for our support. Should we not reach the land, and once enter the main river, we might be carried down for hundreds of miles, day after day, and, unable to procure any food, be starved to death. Ellen and John would be very anxious at our non-appearance. These and many similar thoughts crossed my mind. I fancied that had Arthur been with me I should have felt very differently, but his loss made my spirits sink, and I could hardly keep up the courage which I had always wished to maintain under difficulties. Duppo’s calmness put me to shame. True looked up in my face, and endeavoured to comfort me by licking my hand, and showing other marks of affection. Poor fellow! if we were likely to starve, so was he; but then he did not know that, and was better able to endure hunger than either Duppo or me.

The rain continued pouring down, hiding all objects, except in the immediate vicinity, from our view. I judged, however, that the falling cliff had sent us some distance from the shore into the more rapid part of the current. Providentially it was so, for we could still see the indistinct forms of the trees come sliding down, while the constant loud crashes told us that the destruction of the banks had not yet ceased. Thus we floated on till darkness came down upon us, adding to the horror of our position. The rain had by that time stopped. The thunder no longer roared, and the lightning ceased flashing. The storm was over, but I feared, from the time of the year, that we might soon be visited by another. We had climbed up into a broad part of the trunk, where, among the projecting branches, we could sit or lie down securely without danger of falling off. My chief fear arose from what I have already mentioned,—the possibility of the tree turning over. This made me unwilling either to secure myself to the branches, or indeed even to venture to go to sleep.

Hour after hour slowly passed by. Had Arthur been saved, I could have kept up my spirits; but every now and then, when the recollection of his loss came across me, I could not help bursting into tears. Poor, dear fellow! I had scarcely thought how much I had cared for him. Duppo spoke but little; indeed, finding himself tolerably secure, he probably thought little of the future. He expected, I dare say, to get on shore somewhere or other, and it mattered little to him where that was. True coiled himself up by my side, continuing his efforts to comfort me. In spite of my unwillingness to go to sleep, I found myself frequently dropping off; and at last, in spite of my dread of what might occur, my eyes remained closed, and my senses wandered away into the land of dreams. Duppo also went to sleep, and, I suspect, so did True.

I was awoke by the rays of the sun striking my eyes; when, opening them, I looked about me, wondering where I was. Very soon I recollected all that had occurred. Then came the sad recollection that Arthur had been lost. Our tree appeared to be in the position in which it had been when we went to sleep. Numerous other trees and masses of wood, some of considerable size, floated around us on either hand. The banks were further off than I had expected to find them. True, pressing his head against me, looked up affectionately in my face, as much as to ask, “What are we to do next, master?” It was a question I was puzzled to answer. I had to call loudly to Duppo to arouse him. After looking about for some time, I was convinced that the tree had been drifted into the main stream. On and on it floated. I began to feel very hungry; as did my companions. We were better off than we should have been at sea on a raft, because we could, by scrambling down the branches, quench our thirst. I brought some water up in my cap for True, as I was afraid of letting him go down, lest he should be washed off. I was holding it for him to drink, when Duppo pointed, with an expression of terror in his countenance, to the upper end of the tree, and there I saw, working its way towards us along the branches, a huge serpent, which had probably remained concealed in some hollow, or among the forked boughs, during the night. A second glance convinced me that it was a boa. To escape from it was impossible. If we should attempt to swim to the other trees it might follow us, or we might be snapped up by alligators on our way. I might kill it, but if I missed, it would certainly seize one of us. It stopped, and seemed to be watching us. Its eye was fixed on True, who showed none of his usual bravery. Instinct probably told him the power of his antagonist. Instead of rushing forward as he would probably have done even had a jaguar appeared, he kept crouching down by my side. Unacquainted with the habits of the boa, I could not tell whether it might not spring upon us. I knelt down on the tree and lifted my rifle; I did not, however, wish to fire till it was near enough to receive the full charge in its body. Again it advanced along the boughs. It was within five yards of us. I fired, aiming at its head. As the smoke cleared away, I saw the huge body twisting and turning violently, the tail circling the branch on which it was crawling. Duppo uttered a shout of triumph, and, rushing forward with a paddle which he had saved from the canoe, dealt the already mangled head numberless blows with all his might. The creature’s struggles were at length over.

Pointing to the boa, Duppo now made signs that we should not be in want of food; but I felt that I must be more hungry than I then was, before I could be tempted to eat a piece of the hideous monster. When I told him so, he smiled, enough to say, “Wait a little till you have seen it roasted.” I had my axe in my belt. He asked me for it, and taking it in his hand cut away a number of chips from the drier part of the tree, and also some of the smaller branches. Having piled them up on a broad part of the trunk near the water, he came back to ask me for a light. I told him that if I had tinder I could get it with the help of the pan of my gun. Away he went, scrambling along the branches, and in a short time returned with a bird’s nest, which he held up in triumph. It was perfectly dry, and I saw would burn easily. In another minute he had a fire blazing away. I was afraid that the tree itself might ignite. Duppo pointed to the water to show that we might easily put it out if it burned too rapidly. He next cut off some slices from the body of the boa, and stuck them on skewers in the Indian fashion over the fire. Though I had before fancied that I could not touch it, no sooner had I smelt the roasting flesh than my appetite returned. When it was done, Duppo ate a piece, and made signs that it was very good. I, at length, could resist no longer; and though it was rather coarse and tough, I was glad enough to get something to stop the pangs of hunger. True ate up the portion we gave him without hesitation. Duppo then cut several slices, which, instead of roasting, he hung up on sticks over the fire to dry, throwing the remainder into the water.

He tried his best to amuse me by an account of a combat his father once witnessed in the depths of the forest between two huge boas, probably of different species. One lay coiled on the ground, the other had taken post on the branch of a tree. It ended by the former seizing the head of its opponent with its wide open jaws, sucking in a part of its huge body, gradually unwinding it from the tree. It had attempted, however, a dangerous operation. Suddenly down came the tail, throwing its coils round the victor, and the two monsters lay twisting and writhing in the most terrific manner, till both were dead. I have given the account as well as I could make it out, but of course I could not understand it very clearly.

The clouds had cleared away completely, and the sun’s rays struck down with even more than their usual heat. Still, from the storms we had had of late, I suspected that the rainy season was about to begin. I could only hope, therefore, that we might reach the shore before the waters descended with their full force. Slowly we floated down with the current. On either side of us were several masses of trees, and single trees, such as I have before described. The rate at which we moved differed considerably from many of them. Now we drifted towards one; now we seemed to be carried away again from it. This, I concluded, was owing partly to the different sizes of the floating masses, and to the depth they were sunk in the water; and partly to the irregularity of the current. The wind also affected them, those highest out of the water of course feeling it most.

Chapter Fifteen.

Voyage down the Amazon on a Tree.

All day and another night we drifted on. The flesh of the boa was consumed. Unless a strong breeze should get up which might drive us on shore, we must go on for many days without being able to obtain food. I again became anxious on that point, and was sorry we had not saved more of the boa’s flesh, unpalatable as I had found it. Again the sun rose and found us floating on in the middle of the stream. Duppo, although his countenance did not show much animation, was keeping, I saw, a look-out on the water, to get hold of anything that might drift near us. Presently I observed the small trunk of a rough-looking tree come floating down directly towards us. As it floated on the surface, being apparently very light, it came at a more rapid rate than we were moving. At length it almost touched the trunk, and Duppo, signing to me to come to his assistance, scrambled down towards it. He seized it eagerly, and dragged it up by means of a quantity of rough fibre which hung round it. He then asked me to help him in tearing off the fibre. This I did, and after we had procured a quantity of it, he let the trunk go. When I inquired what he was going to do with it, he made signs that he intended to manufacture some fishing-lines.

“But where are the hooks? and where the bait?” I asked, doubling up my finger to show what I meant.

“By-and-by make,” he answered; and immediately on regaining our usual seat, he set to work splitting the fibre and twisting it with great neatness.

I watched him, feeling, however, that I could be of little assistance. He seemed to work so confidently that I hoped he would manage to manufacture some hooks, though of what material I was puzzled to guess. The kind of tree which had so opportunely reached us I afterwards saw growing on shore. It reaches to about the height of thirty feet. The leaves are large, pinnate, shining, and very smooth and irregular. They grow out of the trunk, the whole of which is covered with a coating of fibres hanging down like coarse hair. It is called by the natives piassaba. This fibre is manufactured into cables and small ropes. It is also used for brooms and brushes; while out of the finer portions are manufactured artificial flowers, baskets, and a variety of delicate articles.

While Duppo was working away at the fishing-lines, I was watching the various masses of trees floating near us. One especially I had observed for some time a little ahead of us, and we now appeared to be nearing it. As I watched it I saw something moving about, and at length I discovered that it was a monkey. He kept jumping about from branch to branch, very much astonished at finding himself floating down the river. He was evidently longing to get back to his woods, but how to manage it was beyond his conception. I pointed him out to Duppo. “He do,” he said, nodding his head. It was a great question, however, whether we should reach the floating island. Even when close to it the current might sweep us off in another direction. Still, as we had drawn so near, I was in hopes that we should be drifted up to it. Had I not been hungry, I should have been very unwilling to shoot the monkey but now, I confess, I longed to get to the island for that very object. The creature would supply us and True with food for a couple of days, at all events. By that time Duppo might have finished his fishing-lines, and we might be able to catch some fish. Had we been on a raft, we might have impelled it towards an island; but we had no control over the huge tree which supported us. All we could do therefore was to sit quiet and watch its progress. Sometimes I doubted whether it was getting nearer, and my hopes of obtaining a dinner off the poor monkey grew less and less. Then it received a new impulse, and gradually we approached the island. Again for an hour or more we went drifting on, and seemed not to have drawn a foot nearer all the time. Duppo every now and then looked up from his work and nodded his head, to signify that he was satisfied with the progress we were making. He certainly had more patience than I possessed. At length I lay down, True by my side, determined not to watch any longer. I fell asleep. Duppo shouting awoke me, and looking up I found that our tree had drifted up to the floating mass; that the branches were interlocked, and as far as we could judge we were secured alongside. The monkey, who had been for a brief time monarch of the floating island, now found his dominions invaded by suspicious-looking strangers. For some time, however, I did not like to venture across the boughs; but at length the trunk drove against a solid part of the mass, and Duppo leading the way, True and I followed him on to the island. “Ocoki! ocoki!” he exclaimed, and ran along the trunk of a tall, prostrate tree of well-nigh one hundred feet in length. On the boughs at the further end grew a quantity of pear-shaped fruit, which he began to pick off eagerly. I did the same, though its appearance was not tempting, as it was covered with an outer skin of a woody texture. As he seemed eager to get it, I did not stop to make inquiries, but collected as much as I could carry in my wallet and pockets. He meantime had filled his arms full, and running back, placed them in a secure place on the trunk of the tree we had left.

The monkey had meantime climbed to a bough which rose higher than the rest out of the tangled mass. Hunger made me eager to kill the creature. I took good aim, hoping at once to put it out of pain. I hit it, but in falling it caught a bough with its tail, and hung on high up in the air. Duppo immediately scrambled away, and before long had mounted the tree. Though the monkey was dead, its tail still circled the bough, and he had to use some force to unwind it. He brought it down with evident satisfaction, and now proposed that we should return to our tree and light another fire. We first collected as much dry wood and as many leaves as we could find. Duppo quickly had the monkey’s skin off. True came in for a portion of his dinner before ours was cooked. I saw Duppo examining the smaller bones, which he extracted carefully, as well as a number of sinews, which he put aside. He then stuck some of the meat on to thin spits, and placed it to roast in the usual fashion over the fire. While this operation was going on, he peeled some of the fruit we had collected. Inside the rind was a quantity of pulpy matter, surrounding a large black oval stone. I found the pulpy matter very sweet and luscious. I ate a couple, and while engaged in eating a third I felt a burning sensation in my mouth and throat, and, hungry as I was, I was afraid of going on. Duppo, however, consumed half-a-dozen with impunity. I may as well say here that this fruit is of a peculiarly acrid character. When, however, the juice is boiled it loses this property, and we frequently employed it mixed with tapioca, when it is called mingau by the natives. It takes, however, a large portion of the fruit to give even a small cup of the mingau. It grows on the top of one of the highest trees of the forest, and as soon as it is ripe it falls to the ground, when its hard woody coating preserves it from injury. The natives then go out in large parties to collect it, as it is a great favourite among them.

As may be supposed, we were too hungry to wait till the monkey was very much done. I found that I could eat a little ocoki fruit as a sweet sauce with the somewhat dry flesh.

Although the island was of some size, yet, as we scrambled about it, we saw that its portions were not firmly knit together, and I thought it very likely, should a storm come on, and should it be exposed to the agitation of the water, it might separate. I therefore resolved to remain on our former tree, that, at all events, having proved itself to be tolerably stable.

We were engaged in eating our meal when my ears caught that peculiar sound once heard not easily forgotten—that of a rattlesnake. Duppo heard it too, and so did True, who started up and looked eagerly about. At length we distinguished a creature crawling along the boughs of a tree about a dozen yards off. It had possibly been attracted by the smell of the roasting monkey, so I thought. It seemed to be making its way towards us. Perhaps it had long before espied the monkey, which it had been unable when alive to get hold of. At all events, it was a dangerous neighbour. I had no wish for it to crawl on to our tree, where it might conceal itself, and keep us constantly on the watch till we had killed it. Now I caught sight of it for a moment; now it was hidden among the tangled mass of boughs. Still I could hear that ominous rattle as it shook its tail while moving along. Though its bite is generally fatal, it is easily avoided on shore, and seldom or never, I have heard, springs on a human being, or bites unless trodden on, or suddenly met with and attacked. In vain I looked for it. It kept moving about under the boughs, as I could tell by the sound of its rattle. Now it stopped, then went on again, now stopped again, and I dreaded every instant to see it spring out from its leafy covert toward us. I kept my gun ready to fire on it should I see it coming. I was so engaged in watching for the snake, that I did not observe that the island was turning slowly round. Presently there was a rustling and a slightly crashing sound of the boughs, and I found that our tree was once more separated from the island, and just then I saw not only one but several snakes moving about. One of the creatures came along the bough, and lifting its head, hissed as if it would like to spring at us, but by that time we were too far off. Again we went floating down with greater speed than the floating island, and, judging from the inhabitants we had seen on it, we had reason to be thankful that we had escaped so soon.

Duppo, since he had finished eating, had been busy scraping away at some of the monkey bones, and he now produced several, with which he intimated he should soon be able to manufacture some hooks. Having put out our fire lest it should ignite the whole tree, we once more scrambled back to our former resting-place. Duppo, having got a couple of lines ready, worked away most perseveringly with the monkey bones, till he had manufactured a couple of serviceable-looking hooks. These he bound on with the sinews to the lines. He was going to fasten on some of the knuckle-bones as weights, but I having some large shot in my pocket, they answered the purpose much better. The hooks, baited with the monkey flesh, were now ready for use. Duppo, however, before putting them into the water, warned me that I must be very quick in striking, lest the fish should bite the lines through before we hauled them up. As we were floating downwards we cast the lines up the current, taking our seat on a stout bough projecting over the water. There we sat, eagerly waiting for a bite, True looking on with great gravity, as if he understood all about the matter. I almost trembled with eagerness, when before long I felt a tug at my line. I struck at once, but up it came without a fish. Again, in a short time, I felt another bite. It seemed a good strong pull, and I hoped that I had caught a fish which would give us a dinner. I hauled it up, but as it rose above the water I saw that it was not many inches in length. Still, it was better than nothing. It was of a beautiful grey hue. On getting it into my hand to take it off the hook, what was my surprise to see it swell out till it became a perfect ball. “Mamayacu!” exclaimed Duppo. “No good eat.” I thought he was right, for I certainly should not have liked attempting to feed on so odd-looking a creature. When going to unhook it I found that its small mouth was fixed in the meat. When left alone it gradually resumed its former proportions.

I soon had another bite, and this time I hoped I should get something worth having. Again I hauled in, when up came a fish as long as the other was short and round, with a curious pointed snout. This, too, had been caught by the tough monkey meat, and promised to be of little more service than my first prize. I caught two or three other curious but useless fish, though, if very much pressed for food, we might have managed to scrape a little flesh off them. Duppo sat patiently fishing on. Though he had got no bites, he escaped being tantalised as I was by the nibbling little creatures which attacked my bait. Perhaps he sank his lower down. I could not exactly make it out, but so it was; and at length I saw his line pulled violently. His eyes glistened with eagerness. He had evidently, he thought, got a large fish hooked. He first allowed his line to run to its full length, then gradually he hauled it in, making a sign to me to come to his assistance. He then handed me the line. I felt from the tugging that a fish of a considerable size was hooked. He meantime got an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to his bow. Then he signed to me to haul in gently. I did so, dreading every instant that our prize would escape, for I could scarcely suppose that a bone hook could withstand so strong a pull. Kneeling down on the trunk, he waited till we could see the dark form of the fish below the surface. At that moment the arrow flew from his bow, and the next all resistance ceased; and now without difficulty I hauled the fish to the surface. Stooping down, he got hold of it by the gills, and with my assistance hauled it up to the trunk. It was nearly three feet long, with a flat spoon-shaped head, and beautifully spotted striped skin. From each side of its head trailed thin feelers, half the length of the fish itself. I felt very sure that with such tackle as we had that I should never have been able to secure so fine a fish. We had now food to last us as long as the fish remained good. We had just time to light a fire and cook a portion, as we had dressed the monkey flesh, before darkness came on.