himself protect some precious specimen of a lepidoptera. Further
anxiety on his account was thus put to rest.
[Illustration: The way across the forest could scarcely be called a
path.]
In spite of Harris's confident assertion that they were little likely
to be molested by any of the nomad Indians, the whole company rejoiced
in feeling that they were well armed, and they resolved to keep in a
compact body. The way across the forest could scarcely be called a
path; it was, in fact, little more than the track of animals, and
progress along it was necessarily very slow; indeed it seemed
impossible, at the rate they started, to accomplish more than five or
six miles in the course of twelve hours.
The weather was beautifully fine; the sun ascended nearly to the
zenith, and its rays, descending almost perpendicularly, caused a
degree of heat which, as Harris pointed out, would have been
unendurable upon the open plain, but was here pleasantly tempered by
the shelter of the foliage.
Most of the trees were quite strange to them. To an experienced eye
they were such as were remarkable more for their character then for
their size. Here, on one side, was the bauhinia, or mountain ebony;
there, on the other, the molompi or pterocarpus, its trunk exuding
large quantities of resin, and of which the strong light wood makes
excellent oars or paddles; further on were fustics heavily charged with
colouring matter, and guaiacums, twelve feet in diameter, surpassing
the ordinary kind in magnitude, yet far inferior in quality.
Dick Sands kept perpetually asking Harris to tell him the names of all
these trees and plants.
"Have you never been on the coast of South America before?" replied
Harris, without giving the explicit information that was sought.
"Never," said Dick; "never before. Nor do I recollect ever having seen
any one who has."
"But surely you have explored the coasts of Columbia or Patagonia,"
Harris continued.
Dick avowed that he had never had the chance.
"But has Mrs. Weldon never visited these parts? Our countrymen, I know,
are great travellers."
"No," answered Mrs. Weldon; "my husband's business called him
occasionally to New Zealand, but I have accompanied him nowhere else.
With this part of Lower Bolivia we are totally unacquainted."
"Then, madam, I can only assure you that you will see a most remarkable
country, in every way a very striking contrast to the regions of Peru,
Brazil, and the Argentine republic. Its animal and vegetable products
would fill a naturalist with unbounded wonder. May I not declare it a
lucky chance that has brought you here?"
"Do not say chance, Mr. Harris, if you please."
"Well, then, madam; providence, if you prefer it," said Harris, with
the air of a man incapable of recognizing the distinction.
After finding that there was no one amongst them who was acquainted in
any way with the country through which they were travelling, Harris
seemed to exhibit an evident pleasure in pointing out and describing by
name the various wonders of the forest. Had Cousin Benedict's
attainments included a knowledge of botany he would have found himself
in a fine field for researches, and might perchance have discovered
novelties to which his own name could be appended in the catalogues of
science. But he was no botanist; in fact, as a rule, he held all
blossoms in aversion, on the ground that they entrapped insects into
their corollæ, and poisoned them sometimes with venomous juices. New
and rare insects, however, seemed hereabouts to be wanting.
Occasionally the soil became marshy, and they all had to wend their way
over a perfect network of tiny rivulets that were affluents of the
river from which they had started. Sometimes these rivulets were so
wide that they could not be passed without a long search for some spot
where they could be forded; their banks were all very damp, and in many
places abounded with a kind of reed, which Harris called by its proper
name of papyrus.
As soon as the marshy district had been passed, the forest resumed its
original aspect, the footway becoming narrow as ever. Harris pointed
out some very fine ebony-trees, larger than the common sort, and
yielding a wood darker and more durable than what is ordinarily seen in
the market. There were also more mango-trees than might have been
expected at this distance from the sea; a beautiful white lichen
enveloped their trunks like a fur; but in spite of their luxuriant
foliage and delicious fruit, Harris said that there was not a native
who would venture to propagate the species, as the superstition of the
country is that "whoever plants a mango, dies!"
[Illustration: Occasionally the soil became marshy.]
At noon a halt was made for the purpose of rest and refreshment. During
the afternoon they arrived at some gently rising ground, not the first
slopes of hills, but an insulated plateau which appeared to unite
mountains and plains. Notwithstanding that the trees were far less
crowded and more inclined to grow in detached groups, the numbers of
herbaceous plants with which the soil was covered rendered progress no
less difficult than it was before. The general aspect of the scene was
not unlike an East Indian jungle. Less luxuriant indeed than in the
lower valley of the river, the vegetation was far more abundant than
that of the temperate zones either of the Old or New continents. Indigo
grew in great profusion, and, according to Harris's representation, was
the most encroaching plant in the whole country; no sooner, he said,
was a field left untilled, than it was overrun by this parasite, which
sprang up with the rank growth of thistles or nettles.
One tree which might have been expected to be common in this part of
the continent seemed entirely wanting. This was the caoutchouc. Of the
various trees from which India-rubber is procured, such as the Ficus
prinoides, the Castilioa elastica, the Cecropia peltata, the Callophora
utilis, the Cameraria latifolia, and especially the Siphonia elastica,
all of which abound in the provinces of South America, not a single
specimen was to be seen. Dick had promised to show Jack an
India-rubber-tree, and the child, who had conjured up visions of
squeaking dolls, balls, and other toys growing upon its branches, was
loud and constant in his expressions of disappointment.
"Never mind, my little man," said Harris; "have patience, and you shall
see hundreds of India-rubber-trees when you get to the hacienda."
"And will they be nice and elastic?" asked Jack, whose ideas upon the
subject were of the vaguest order.
"Oh, yes, they will stretch as long as you like," Harris answered,
laughing. "But here is something to amuse you," he added, and as he
spoke, he gathered a fruit that looked as tempting as a peach.
"You are quite sure that it is safe to give it him?" said Mrs. Weldon
anxiously.
"To satisfy you, madam, I will eat one first myself."
The example he set was soon followed by all the rest. The fruit was a
mango; that which had been so opportunely discovered was of the sort
that ripens in March or April; there is a later kind which ripens in
September. With his mouth full of juice, Jack pronounced that it was
very nice, but did not seem to be altogether diverted from his sense of
disappointment at not coming to an India-rubber-tree. Evidently the
little man thought himself rather injured.
"And Dick promised me some humming-birds too!" he murmured.
"Plenty of humming-birds for you, when you get to the farm; lots of
them where my brother lives," said Harris.
And to say the truth, there was nothing extravagant in the way the
child's anticipations had been raised, for in Bolivia humming-birds are
found in great abundance. The Indians, who weave their plumage into all
kinds of artistic designs, have bestowed the most poetical epithets
upon these gems of the feathered race. They call them "rays of the
sun," and "tresses of the day-star;" at one time they will describe
them as "king of flowers," at another as "blossoms of heaven kissing
blossoms of earth," or as "the jewel that reflects the sunbeam." In
fact their imagination seems to have shaped a suitable distinction for
almost every one of the 150 known species of this dazzling little
beauty.
But however numerous humming-birds might be expected to be in the
Bolivian forest, they proved scarce enough at present, and Jack had to
content himself with Harris's representations that they did not like
solitude, but would be found plentifully at San Felice, where they
would be heard all day long humming like a spinning-wheel. Already Jack
said he longed to be there, a wish that was so unanimously echoed by
all the rest, that they resolved that no stoppage should be allowed
beyond what was absolutely indispensable.
After a time the forest began to alter its aspect. The trees were even
less crowded, opening now and then into wide glades. The soil, cropping
up above its carpet of verdure, exhibited veins of rose granite and
syenite, like plates of lapis lazuli; on some of the higher ground, the
fleshy tubers of the sarsaparilla plant, growing in a hopeless
entanglement, made progress a matter of still greater difficulty than
in the narrow tracks of the dense forest.
At sunset the travellers found that they had accomplished about eight
miles from their starting-point. They could not prognosticate what
hardships might be in store for them on future days, but it was certain
that the experiences of the first day had been neither eventful nor
very fatiguing. It was now unanimously agreed that they should make a
halt for the night, and as little was to be apprehended from the
attacks either of man or beast, it was considered unnecessary to form
anything like a regular encampment. One man on guard, to be relieved
every few hours, was presumed to be sufficient. Admirable shelter was
offered by an enormous mango, the spreading foliage of which formed a
kind of natural verandah, sweeping the ground so thoroughly that any
one who chose could find sleeping-quarters in its very branches.
Simultaneously with the halting of the party there was heard a
deafening tumult in the upper boughs. The mango was the roosting place
of a colony of grey parrots, a noisy, quarrelsome, and rapacious race,
of whose true characteristics the specimens seen in confinement in
Europe give no true conception. Their screeching and chattering were
such a nuisance that Dick Sands wanted to fire a shot into the middle
of them, but Harris seriously dissuaded him, urging that the report of
firearms would only serve to reveal their own presence, whilst their
greatest safety lay in perfect silence.
Supper was prepared. There was little need of cooking. The meal, as
before, consisted of preserved meat and biscuit. Fresh water, which
they flavoured with a few drops of rum, was obtained from an adjacent
stream which trickled through the grass. By way of dessert they had an
abundance of ripe mangoes, and the only drawback to their general
enjoyment was the discordant outcry which the parrots kept up, as it
were in protest against the invasion of what they held to be their own
rightful domain.
It was nearly dark when supper was ended. The evening shade crept
slowly upwards to the tops of the trees, which soon stood out in sharp
relief against the lighter background of the sky, while the stars, one
by one, began to peep. The wind dropped, and ceased to murmur through
the foliage; to the general relief, the parrots desisted from their
clatter; and as Nature hushed herself to rest, she seemed to be
inviting all her children to follow her example.
"Had we not better light a good large fire?" asked Dick.
"By no means," said Harris; "the nights are not cold, and under this
wide-spreading mango the ground is not likely to be damp. Besides, as I
have told you before, our best security consists in our taking care to
attract no attention whatever from without."
Mrs. Weldon interposed,--
"It may be true enough that we have nothing to dread from the Indians,
but is it certain that there are no dangerous quadrupeds against which
we are bound to be upon our guard?"
Harris answered,--
"I can positively assure you, madam, that there are no animals here but
such as would be infinitely more afraid of you than you would be of
them."
"Are there any woods without wild beasts?" asked Jack.
"All woods are not alike, my boy," replied Harris; "this wood is a
great park. As the Indians say, 'Es como el Pariso;' it is like
Paradise."
Jack persisted,--
"There must be snakes, and lions, and tigers."
"Ask your mamma, my boy," said Harris, "whether she ever heard of lions
and tigers in America?"
Mrs. Weldon was endeavouring to put her little boy at his ease on this
point, when Cousin Benedict interposed, saying that although there were
no lions or tigers, there were plenty of jaguars and panthers in the
New World.
"And won't they kill us?" demanded Jack eagerly, his apprehensions once
more aroused.
"Kill you?" laughed Harris; "why, your friend Hercules here could
strangle them, two at a time, one in each hand!"
"But, please, don't let the panthers come near me!" pleaded Jack,
evidently alarmed.
"No, no, Master Jack, they shall not come near you. I will give them a
good grip first," and the giant displayed his two rows of huge white
teeth.
Dick Sands proposed that it should be the four younger negroes who
should be assigned the task of keeping watch during the night, in
attendance upon himself; but Actæon insisted so strongly upon the
necessity of Dick's having his full share of rest, that the others were
soon brought to the same conviction, and Dick was obliged to yield.
Jack valiantly announced his intention of taking one watch, but his
sleepy eyelids made it only too plain that he did not know the extent
of his own fatigue.
"I am sure there are wolves here," he said.
"Only such wolves as Dingo would swallow at a mouthful," said Harris.
"But I am sure there are wolves," he insisted, repeating the word
"wolves" again and again, until he tumbled off to sleep against the
side of old Nan. Mrs. Weldon gave her little son a silent kiss; it was
her loving "good night."
Cousin Benedict was missing. Some little time before, he had slipped
away in search of "cocuyos," or fire-flies, which he had heard were
common in South America.
Those singular insects emit a bright bluish light from two spots on the
side of the thorax, and their colours are so brilliant that they are
used as ornaments for ladies' headdresses. Hoping to secure some
specimens for his box, Benedict would have wandered to an unlimited
distance; but Hercules, faithful to his undertaking, soon discovered
him, and heedless of the naturalist's protestations and vociferations,
promptly escorted him back to the general rendezvous.
Hercules himself was the first to keep watch, but with this exception,
the whole party, in another hour, were wrapped in peaceful slumber.
[Illustration: Hercules himself was the first to keep watch.]
CHAPTER XVII
MISGIVINGS.
Most travellers who have passed a night in a South American forest have
been roused from their slumbers by a -matinée musicale- more fantastic
than melodious, performed by monkeys, as their ordinary greeting of the
dawn. The yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form a
chorus almost unearthly in its hideousness.
Amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the quadrumana
ought to be recognized the little marikina; the sagouin, with its
parti-coloured face; the grey mora, the skin of which is used by the
Indians for covering their gun-locks; the sapajou, with its singular
tuft over the forehead, and, most remarkable of all, the guariba
(-Simia Beelzebul-) with its prehensile tail and diabolical countenance.
At the first streak of daylight the senior member, as choragus, will
start the key-note in a sonorous barytone, the younger monkeys join in
tenor and alto, and the concert begins. But this morning there was no
concert at all. There was nothing of the wonted serenade to break the
silence of the forest. The shrill notes resulting from the rapid
vibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard.
Indians would have been disappointed and perplexed; they are very fond
of the flesh of the guariba when smoked and dried, and they would
certainly have missed the chant of the monkey "paternosters;" but Dick
Sands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, and
accordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise.
They all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which there had
been nothing to disturb. Jack was by no means the latest in opening his
eyes, and his first words were addressed to Hercules, asking him
whether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. Hercules had to
acknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himself
quite ready for breakfast. The whole party were unanimous in this
respect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiously
served by old Nan. The meal was but a repetition of the last evening's
supper, but with their appetites sharpened by the fresh forest air, and
anxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not fail
to do ample justice to their simple fare. Even Cousin Benedict, for
once in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were not
utterly a matter of indifference to him; but he grumbled very much at
the restraint to which he considered himself subjected; he could not
see the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to be
obliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets; and he protested
that if Hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catch
fire-flies, there would be a bone to pick between them. Hercules did
not look very much alarmed at the threat. Mrs. Weldon, however, took
him aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive the
enthusiast entirely of his favourite occupation, instructed him to
allow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not lose
sight of him.
The morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when the
travellers were once more on their way towards the east, preserving the
same marching-order as on the day before.
The path was still through luxuriant forest. The vegetable kingdom
reigned supreme. As the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropical
latitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descended
perpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thus
obtained combined with the abundant moisture retained in the subsoil,
caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent.
Dick Sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. Here
they were, as Harris told them, in the region of the pampas, a word
which he knew in the Quichna dialect signifies "a plain;" but he had
always read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency alike
of water, of trees, and rocks; he had always understood that during the
rainy season, thistles spring up in great abundance and grow until they
form thickets that are well-nigh impenetrable; he had imagined that the
few dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer only
stamp the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough bareness
and desolation. But how different was everything to all this! The
forest never ceased to stretch away interminably to the horizon. There
were no tokens of the rough nakedness that he had expected. Dick seemed
to be driven to the conclusion that Harris was right in describing this
plateau of Atacama, which he had for his part most firmly believed to
be a vast desert between the Andes and the Pacific, as a region that
was quite exceptional in its natural features.
It was not in Dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. In
the course of the morning he expressed his extreme surprise at finding
the pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas.
"Have I not understood correctly," he said, "that the pampas is similar
to the North American savannahs, only less marshy?"
Harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the pampas
of Rio Colorado, and the Ilanos of Venezuela and the Orinoco.
"But," he continued, "I own I am as much astonished as yourself at the
character of this region; I have never crossed the plateau before, and
I must confess it is altogether different to what you find beyond the
Andes towards the Atlantic."
"You don't mean that we are going to cross the Andes?" said Dick, in
sudden alarm.
Harris smiled.
"No, no, indeed. With our limited means of transport such an
undertaking would have been rash in the extreme. We had better have
kept to the coast for ever rather than incur such a risk. Our
destination, San Felice, is on this side of the range, and in order to
reach it, we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatest
elevation is but little over 1500 feet."
"And you say," Dick persisted, "that you have really no fear of losing
your way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have never
set foot before?"
"No fear whatever," Harris answered; "so accustomed am I to travelling
of this kind, that I can steer my way by a thousand signs revealing
themselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of the
soil, which would never present themselves to your notice. I assure you
that I anticipate no difficulties."
This conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. Harris
seemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and Dick felt that
there might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his own
misgivings.
Five days passed by, and the 12th of April arrived without any special
incident. Nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in a
day; regular periods of rest had been taken, and, except that Jack's
spirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to have
interfered with the general good health of the travellers.
First disappointed of his India-rubber-tree, and then of his humming
birds, Jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had been
led to expect he should see in this wonderful forest. Where were the
bright green macaws? where were the gaudy aras with their bare white
cheeks and pointed tails, which seem never to light upon the ground?
and where, too, were all the brilliant parroquets, with their feathered
faces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest chatterers of which
the Indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct?
It is true that there was no lack of the common grey parrots with
crimson tails, but these were no novelty; Jack had seen plenty of them
before, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever in
mimickry of the Psittacidæ, they have been domesticated everywhere in
both the Old and New worlds.
[Illustration: "Don't Fire!"]
But Jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to Cousin Benedict's.
In spite of being allowed to wander away from the rank, he had failed
to discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit; not even a
fire-fly danced at night; nature seemed to be mocking him, and his
ill-humour increased accordingly.
In this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the
16th it was estimated that they must have travelled between eighty and
ninety miles north-eastwards from the coast. Harris positively asserted
that they could not be much more than twenty miles from San Felice, and
that by pushing forwards they might expect in eight-and-forty hours to
find themselves lodged in comfortable quarters.
But although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vast
table-land, they had not seen one human inhabitant. Dick was more than
ever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that they
had not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near some
village or plantation where Mrs. Weldon might long since have found a
suitable refuge.
Deserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it had
latterly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. Many a
time a long, plaintive cry was heard, which Harris attributed to the
tardigrades or sloths often found in wooded districts, and known by the
name of "ais;" and in the middle of the dinner-halt on this day, a loud
hissing suddenly broke upon the air which made Mrs. Weldon start to her
feet in alarm.
"A serpent!" cried Dick, catching up his loaded gun.
The negroes, following Dick's example, were in a moment on the alert.
"Don't fire!" cried Harris.
There was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a "sucuru,"
a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had just
moved itself in the long grass at their side, but Harris affirmed that
the "sucuru" never hisses, and declared that the noise had really come
from animals of an entirely inoffensive character.
"What animals?" asked Dick, always eager for information, which it must
be granted Harris seemed always equally anxious to give.
"Antelopes," replied Harris; "but, hush! not a sound, or you will
frighten them away."
"Antelopes!" cried Dick; "I must see them; I must get close to them."
"More easily said than done," answered Harris, shaking his head; but
Dick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and, gun in hand, crept
into the grass. He had not advanced many yards before a herd of about a
dozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short, pointed horns, dashed
past him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood without
giving him time to take a shot.
"I told you beforehand what you would have to expect," said Harris, as
Dick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to the
party.
Impossible, however, as it had been fairly to scrutinize the antelopes,
such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, the
identification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion between
Harris and the rest.
About four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, the travellers
were halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, when
three or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundred
paces ahead, and scampered off at full speed. In spite of what Harris
had urged, Dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on the very point
of firing, when Harris knocked the rifle quickly aside.
"They were giraffes!" shouted Dick.
The announcement awakened the curiosity of Jack, who quickly scrambled
to his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging.
"My dear Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, "there are no giraffes in America!"
[Illustration: A herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud.]
"Certainly not," cried Harris; "they were not giraffes, they were
ostriches which you saw!"
"Ostriches with four legs! that will never do! what do you say. Mrs.
Weldon?"
Mrs. Weldon replied that she had certainly taken the animals for
quadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression.
Laughing heartily, Harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for an
inexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe; the
shape of both was so similar, that it often quite escaped observation
as to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle; besides,
what need of discussion could there be when the fact was established
that giraffes are unknown in the New World? The reasoning was plausible
enough, and Mrs Weldon and the negroes were soon convinced. But Dick
was far from satisfied.
"I did not know that there was an American ostrich!" he again objected.
"Oh, yes," replied Harris promptly, "there is a species called the
nandu, which is very well known here; we shall probably see some more
of them."
The statement was correct; the nandu is common in the plains of South
America, and is distinguished from the African ostrich by having three
toes, all furnished with claws. It is a fine bird, sometimes exceeding
six feet in height; it has a short beak, and its wings are furnished
with blue-grey plumes. Harris appeared well acquainted with the bird,
and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. In
concluding his remarks, he again pressed upon Dick his most urgent
request that he should abstain from firing upon any animal whatever. It
was of the utmost consequence.
Dick made no reply. He was silent and thoughtful. Grave doubts had
arisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them.
When the march was resumed on the following day, Harris asserted his
conviction that another four-and-twenty hours would bring them to the
hacienda.
"And there, madam," he said, addressing Mrs. Weldon, "we can offer you
every essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of your
own home in San Francisco."
Mrs. Weldon repeated her expression of gratitude for the proffered
hospitality, owning that she should now be exceedingly glad to reach
the farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to be
threatened with the symptoms of incipient fever.
Harris could not deny that although the climate was usually very
healthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind of
intermittent fever during March and April.
"But nature has provided the proper remedy," said Dick; and perceiving
that Harris did not comprehend his meaning, he continued, "Are we not
in the region of the quinquinas, the bark of which is notoriously the
medicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? for my part,
I am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already."
"Ah! yes, yes; I know what you mean," answered Harris, after a moment's
hesitation; "they are trees, however, not always easy to find; they
rarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrant
red blossom, the Indians themselves often have a difficulty in
recognizing them; the feature that distinguishes them most is their
evergreen foliage."
At Mrs. Weldon's request, Harris promised to point out the tree if he
should see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she would
be able to obtain some sulphate of quinine, which was much more
efficacious than the unprepared bark.[1]
[Footnote 1: This bark was formerly, reduced to powder, known as
"Pulvis Jesuiticus," because in the year 1649 the Jesuits in Rome
imported a large quantity of it from their missionaries in South
America.]
The day passed without further incident. No rain had fallen at present,
though the warm mist that rose from the soil betokened an approaching
change of weather; the rainy season was certainly not far distant, but
to travellers who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a
place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern.
[Illustration: A halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty
trees.]
Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of
lofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more
than about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, was
Dick Sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him to
relax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon
the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch.
Worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but they
had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry.
"Who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed Dick, the first
to rise to his feet.
"It is I," answered Benedict's voice; "I am bitten. Something has
bitten me."
"A snake!" exclaimed Mrs. Weldon in alarm.
"No, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; I believe it was
an orthoptera; I have it all right," he shouted triumphantly.
"Then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace,"
said Harris.
"Kill it! not for the world! I must have a light, and look at it!"
Dick Sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light.
The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect
somewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow on
the under portion of the body. He looked radiant with delight.
"A diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famous
diptera!"
"Is it venomous?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes."
"But tell us its name! what is it?" cried Dick impetuously.
The naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone.
"This insect is here a prodigy; it is an insect totally unknown in this
country,--in America."
"Tell us its name!" roared Dick.
"It is a tzetzy, sir, a true tzetzy."
Dick's heart sank like a stone. He was speechless. He did not, dared
not, ask more. Only too well he knew where the tzetzy could alone be
found. He did not close his eyes again that night.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY.
The morning of the 18th dawned, the day on which, according to Harris's
prediction, the travellers were to be safely housed at San Felice. Mrs.
Weldon was really much relieved at the prospect, for she was aware that
her strength must prove inadequate to the strain of a more protracted
journey. The condition of her little boy, who was alternately flushed
with fever, and pale with exhaustion, had begun to cause her great
anxiety, and unwilling to resign the care of the child even to Nan his
faithful nurse, she insisted upon carrying him in her own arms. Twelve
days and nights, passed in the open air, had done much to try her
powers of endurance, and the charge of a sick child in addition would
soon break down her strength entirely.
Dick Sands, Nan, and the negroes had all borne the march very fairly.
Their stock of provisions, though of course considerably diminished,
was still far from small. As for Harris, he had shown himself
pre-eminently adapted for forest-life, and capable of bearing any
amount of fatigue. Yet, strange to say, as he approached the end of the
journey, his manner underwent a remarkable change; instead of
conversing in his ordinary frank and easy way, he became silent and
preoccupied, as if engrossed in his own thoughts. Perhaps he had an
instinctive consciousness that "his young friend," as he was in the
habit of addressing Dick, was entertaining hard suspicions about him.
The march was resumed. The trees once again ceased to be crowded in
impenetrable masses, but stood in clusters at considerable distances
apart. Now, Dick tried to argue with himself, they must be coming to
the true pampas, or the man must be designedly misleading them; and yet
what motive could he have?
Although during the earlier part of the day there occurred nothing that
could be said absolutely to justify Dick's increasing uneasiness, two
circumstances transpired which did not escape his observation, and
which, he felt, might be significant. The first of these was a sudden
change in Dingo's behaviour. The dog, throughout the march, had
uniformly run along with his nose upon the ground, smelling the grass
and shrubs, and occasionally uttering a sad low whine; but to-day he
seemed all agitation; he scampered about with bristling coat, with his
head erect, and ever and again burst into one of those furious fits of
barking, with which he had formerly been accustomed to greet Negoro's
appearance upon the deck of the "Pilgrim."
The idea that flitted across Dick's mind was shared by Tom.
"Look, Mr. Dick, look at Dingo; he is at his old ways again," said he;
"it is just as if Negoro...."
"Hush!" said Dick to the old man, who continued in a lower voice,--
"It is just as if Negoro had followed us; do you think it is likely?"
"It might perhaps be to his advantage to follow us, if he doesn't know
the country; but if he does know the country, why then...."
Dick did not finish his sentence, but whistled to Dingo. The dog
reluctantly obeyed the call.
As soon as the dog was at his side, Dick patted him, repeating,--
"Good dog! good Dingo! where's Negoro?"
The sound of Negoro's name had its usual effect; it seemed to irritate
the animal exceedingly, and he barked furiously, and apparently wanted
to dash into the thicket.
Harris had been an interested spectator of the scene, and now
approached with a peculiar expression on his countenance, and inquired
what they were saying to Dingo.
"Oh, nothing much," replied Tom; "we were only asking him for news of a
lost acquaintance."
"Ah, I suppose you mean that Portuguese cook of yours."
"Yes," answered Tom; "we fancied from Dingo's behaviour, that Negoro
must be somewhere close at hand."
"Why don't you send and search the underwood? perhaps the poor wretch
is in distress."
"No need of that, Mr. Harris; Negoro, I have no doubt, is quite capable
of taking care of himself."
"Well, just as you please, my young friend," said Harris, with an air
of indifference.
Dick turned away; he continued his endeavours to pacify Dingo, and the
conversation dropped.
The other thing that had arrested Dick's attention was the behaviour of
the horse. If they had been as near the hacienda as Harris described,
would not the animal have pricked up its ears, sniffed the air, and
with dilated nostril, exhibited some sign of satisfaction, as being
upon familiar ground?
But nothing of the kind was to be observed; the horse plodded along as
unconcernedly as if a stable were as far away as ever.
Even Mrs. Weldon was not so engrossed with her child, but what she was
fain to express her wonder at the deserted aspect of the country. No
trace of a farm-labourer was anywhere to be seen! She cast her eye at
Harris, who was in his usual place in front, and observing how he was
looking first to the left, and then to the right, with the air of a man
who was uncertain of his path, she asked herself whether it was
possible their guide might have lost his way. She dared not entertain
the idea, and averted her eyes, that she might not be harassed by his
movements.
After crossing an open plain about a mile in width, the travellers once
again entered the forest, which resumed something of the same denseness
that had characterized it farther to the west. In the course of the
afternoon, they came to a spot which was marked very distinctly by the
vestiges of some enormous animals, which must have passed quite
recently. As Dick looked carefully about him, he observed that the
branches were all torn off or broken to a considerable height, and that
the foot-tracks in the trampled grass were much too large to be those
either of jaguars or panthers. Even if it were possible that the prints
on the ground had been made by ais or other taidigrades, this would
fail to account in the least for the trees being broken to such a
height. Elephants alone were capable of working such destruction in the
underwood, but elephants were unknown in America. Dick was puzzled, but
controlled himself so that he would not apply to Harris for any
enlightenment; his intuition made him aware that a man who had once
tried to make him believe that giraffes were ostriches, would not
hesitate a second time to impose upon his credulity.
More than ever was Dick becoming convinced that Harris was a traitor,
and he was secretly prompted to tax him with his treachery. Still he
was obliged to own that he could not assign any motive for the man
acting in such a manner with the survivors of the "Pilgrim," and
consequently hesitated before he actually condemned him for conduct so
base and heartless. What could be done? he repeatedly asked himself. On
board ship the boy captain might perchance have been able to devise
some plan for the safety of those so strangely committed to his charge,
but here on an unknown shore, he could only suffer from the burden of
this responsibility the more, because he was so utterly powerless to
act.
He made up his mind on one point. He determined not to alarm the poor
anxious mother a moment before he was actually compelled. It was his
carrying out this determination that explained why on subsequently
arriving at a considerable stream, where he saw some huge heads,
swollen muzzles, long tusks and unwieldy bodies rising from amidst the
rank wet grass, he uttered no word and gave no gesture of surprise; but
only too well he knew, at a glance, that he must be looking at a herd
of hippopotamuses.
[Illustration: "Look here! here are hands, men's hands."]
It was a weary march that day; a general feeling of depression spread
involuntarily from one to another; hardly conscious to herself of her
weariness, Mrs. Weldon was exhibiting manifest symptoms of lassitude;
and it was only Dick's moral energy and sense of duty that kept him
from succumbing to the prevailing dejection.
About four o'clock, Tom noticed something lying in the grass, and
stooping down he picked up a kind of knife; it was of peculiar shape,
being very wide and flat in the blade, while its handle, which was of
ivory, was ornamented with a good deal of clumsy carving. He carried it
at once to Dick, who, when he had scrutinized it, held it up to Harris,
with the remark,--
"There must be natives not far off."
"Quite right, my young friend; the hacienda must be a very few miles
away,--but yet, but yet...."
He hesitated.
"You don't mean that you are not sure of your way," said Dick sharply.
"Not exactly that," replied Harris; "yet in taking this short cut
across the forest, I am inclined to think I am a mile or so out of the
way. Perhaps I had better walk on a little way, and look about me."
"No; you do not leave us here," cried Dick firmly.
"Not against your will; but remember, I do not undertake to guide you
in the dark."
"We must spare you the necessity for that. I can answer for it that
Mrs. Weldon will raise no objection to spending another night in the
open air. We can start off to-morrow morning as early as we like, and
if the distance be only what you represent, a few hours will easily
accomplish it."
"As you please," answered Harris with cold civility.
Just then, Dingo again burst out into a vehement fit of barking, and it
required no small amount of coaxing on Dick's part to make him cease
from his noise.
It was decided that the halt should be made at once. Mrs. Weldon, as it
had been anticipated, urged nothing against it, being preoccupied by
her immediate attentions to Jack, who was lying in her arms, suffering
from a decided attack of fever. The shelter of a large thicket had just
been selected by Dick as a suitable resting-place for the night, when
Tom, who was assisting in the necessary preparations, suddenly gave a
cry of horror.
"What is it, Tom?" asked Dick very calmly.
"Look! look at these trees! they are spattered with blood! and look
here! here are hands, men's hands, cut off and lying on the ground!"
"What?" cried Dick, and in an instant was at his side.
His presence of mind did not fail him; he whispered,--
"Hush! Tom! hush! not a word!"
But it was with a shudder that ran through his veins that he witnessed
for himself the mutilated fragments of several human bodies, and saw,
lying beside them, some broken forks, and some bits of iron chain.
The sight of the gory remains made Dingo bark ferociously, and Dick,
who was most anxious that Mrs. Weldon's attention should not be called
to the discovery, had the greatest difficulty in driving him back; but
fortunately the lady's mind was so engrossed with her patient, that she
did not observe the commotion. Harris stood aloof; there was no one to
notice the change that passed over his countenance, but the expression
was almost diabolical in its malignity.
Poor old Tom himself seemed perfectly spell-bound. With his hands
clenched, his eyes dilated, and his breast heaving with emotion, he
kept repeating without anything like coherence, the words,--
"Forks! chains! forks! ... long ago ... remember ... too well ...
chains!"
"For Mrs. Weldon's sake, Tom, hold your tongue!" Dick implored him.
Tom, however, was full with some remembrance of the past; he continued
to repeat,--
"Long ago ... forks ... chains!" until Dick led him out of hearing.
A fresh halting-place was chosen a short distance further on, and
supper was prepared. But the meal was left almost untasted; not so much
that hunger had been overcome by fatigue, but because the indefinable
feeling of uneasiness, that had taken possession of them all, had
entirely destroyed all appetite.
[Illustration: The man was gone, and his horse with him.]
Gradually the night became very dark. The sky was covered with heavy
storm-clouds, and on the western horizon flashes of summer lightning
now and then glimmered through the trees. The air was perfectly still;
not a leaf stirred, and the atmosphere seemed so charged with
electricity as to be incapable of transmitting sound of any kind.
Dick, himself, with Austin and Bat in attendance, remained on guard,
all of them eagerly straining both eye and ear to catch any light or
sound that might disturb the silence and obscurity. Old Tom, with his
head sunk upon his breast, sat motionless, as in a trance; he was
gloomily revolving the awakened memories of the past. Mrs. Weldon was
engaged with her sick child. Scarcely one of the party was really
asleep, except indeed it might be Cousin Benedict, whose reasoning
faculties were not of an order to carry him forwards into any future
contingencies.
Midnight was still an hour in advance, when the dull air seemed filled
with a deep and prolonged roar, mingled with a peculiar kind of
vibration.
Tom started to his feet. A fresh recollection of his early days had
struck him.
"A lion! a lion!" he shouted.
In vain Dick tried to repress him; but he repeated,--
"A lion! a lion!"
Dick Sands seized his cutlass, and, unable any longer to control his
wrath, he rushed to the spot where he had left Harris lying.
The man was gone, and his horse with him!
All the suspicions that had been so long pent up within Dick's mind now
shaped themselves into actual reality. A flood of light had broken in
upon him. Now he was convinced, only too certainly, that it was not the
coast of America at all upon which the schooner had been cast ashore!
it was not Easter Island that had been sighted far away in the west!
the compass had completely deceived him; he was satisfied now that the
strong currents had carried them quite round Cape Horn, and that they
had really entered the Atlantic. No wonder that quinquinas, caoutchouc,
and other South American products, had failed to be seen. This was
neither the Bolivian pampas nor the plateau of Atacama. They were
giraffes, not ostriches, that had vanished down the glade; they were
elephants that had trodden down the underwood; they were hippopotamuses
that were lurking by the river; it was indeed the dreaded tzetsy that
Cousin Benedict had so triumphantly discovered; and, last of all, it
was a lion's roar that had disturbed the silence of the forest. That
chain, that knife, those forks, were unquestionably the instruments of
slave-dealers; and what could those mutilated hands be, except the
relics of their ill-fated victims?
Harris and Negoro must be in a conspiracy!
It was with terrible anguish that Dick gnashed his teeth and muttered,--
"Yes, it is too true; we are in Africa! in equatorial Africa! in the
land of slavery! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!"
END OF FIRST PART.
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986
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*
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994
995
996
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.
998
999
1000