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Martin Rattler

by R. M. Ballantyne · English · Gutenberg #13290 · 361,810 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Martin Rattler

Author: R. M. Ballantyne


        
Release date: August 25, 2004 [eBook #13290]
                Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARTIN RATTLER ***

                             MARTIN RATTLER

                            BY R M BALLANTYNE

                                  1858




EDITOR'S NOTE


"MARTIN RATTLER" was one of, Robert Michael Ballantyne's early books.
Born at Edinburgh in 1825,[1] he was sent to Rupert's Land as a
trading-clerk in the Hudson Bay Fur Company's service when he left
school, a boy of sixteen. There, to relieve his home-sickness, he first
practised his pen in long letters home to his mother. Soon after his
return to Scotland in 1848 he published a first book on Hudson's Bay.
Then he passed some years in a Scottish publisher's office; and in 1855 a
chance suggestion from another publisher led to his writing his first
book for boys--"Snowflakes and Sunbeams, or The Young Fur Traders." That
story showed he had found his vocation, and he poured forth its
successors to the tune in all of some fourscore volumes. "Martin Rattler"
appeared in 1858. In his "Personal Reminiscences" Ballantyne wrote: "How
many thousands of lads have an intense liking for the idea of a sailor's
life!" and he pointed out there the other side of the romantic picture:
the long watches "in dirty unromantic weather," and the hard work of
holystoning the decks, scraping down the masts and cleaning out the
coal-hole. But though his books show something of this reverse side too,
there is no doubt they have helped to set many boys dreaming of

"Wrecks, buccaneers, black flags, and desert lands
On which, alone, the second Crusoe stands."

[Footnote 1: See Note to "The Coral Island" in this series.]

Among these persuasions to the life of adventure "Martin Rattler" is
still one of the favourite among all his books. Ballantyne himself was
fated to die on foreign soil in 1894, at Rome, where he lies buried in
the English Protestant cemetery.

The following is a list of Ballantyne's chief romances, tales of
adventure, and descriptive works:--

"Hudson's Bay, or Every-day Life in the Wilds of North America," etc.,
1848; "Snowflakes and Sunbeams, or the Young Fur Traders," 1856. In 1857
and 1858 appeared, under the pseudonym of "Comus": "The Butterfly's Ball
and the Grasshopper's Feast" (in verse by Roscoe), ed. with music,
coloured illustrations, and a prose version; "Mister Fox"; "My Mother";
"The Robber Kitten" (by the author of "Three Little Kittens"). "The Coral
Island, a Tale of the Pacific Ocean" (with a preface subscribed "Ralph
Rover"), 1858 (1857); "Ungava, a Tale of Esquimaux Land," 1858 (1857);
"Martin Rattler, or a Boy's Adventures in the Forests of Brazil," 1858;
"Ships, the _Great Eastern_ and lesser Craft" (with illustrations), 1859;
"Mee-a-ow! or Good Advice to Cats and Kittens," 1859; "The World of Ice,
or Adventures in the Polar Regions," 1860 (1859); "The Dog Crusoe, a Tale
of the Western Prairies," 1861 (1860); "The Golden Dream, or Adventures
in the Far West," 1861 (1860); "The Gorilla Hunters, a Tale of the Wilds
of Africa," 1861; "The Red Eric, or the Whaler's Last Cruise," 1861; "Man
on the Ocean, a Book for Boys," 1863 (1862); "The Wild Man of the West, a
Tale of the Rocky Mountains," 1863 (1862); "Gascoyne, the Sandal-wood
Trader, a Tale of the Pacific," 1864 (1863); "The Lifeboat, a Tale of our
Coast Heroes," 1864; "Freaks on the Fells, or Three Months' Rustication,"
and "Why I did not become a Sailor," etc., 1865 (1861); "The Lighthouse,
being the Story of a Great Fight between Man and the Sea," etc., 1865;
"Shifting Winds, a Tough Yarn," etc., 1866; "Silver Lake, or Lost in the
Snow," 1867; "A Rescue in the Rocky Mountains," 1867; "Fighting the
Flames, a Tale of the London Fire Brigade," 1868; "Away in the
Wilderness, or Life among the Red Indians and Fur Traders of North
America," 1869; "Erling the Bold, a Tale of the Norse Sea-kings," with
illustrations by the author, 1869; "Deep Down, a Tale of the Cornish
Mines," 1869; "The Floating Light of the Goodwin Sands," with
illustrations by the author, 1870; "The Iron Horse, or Life on the Line,
a Tale of the Grand National Trunk Railway," 1871; "The Norsemen in the
West, or America before Columbus," 1872; "The Pioneers, a Tale of the
Western Wilderness, illustrative of the Adventures and Discoveries
of Sir A. Mackenzie," 1872; "Black Ivory, a Tale of Adventure among
the Slaves of East Africa," 1873; "Life in the Red Brigade, a Story
for Boys," 1873; "The Ocean and its Wonders," 1874; "The Pirate
City, an Algerine Tale," 1875; "Under the Waves, or Diving in Deep
Waters," 1876; "Rivers of Ice, a Tale illustrative of Alpine
Adventure and Glacier Action," 1876; "The Settler and the Savage, a
Tale of Peace and War in South Africa," 1877; "Jarwin and Cuffy"
(Incident and Adventure Library), 1878; "In the Track of the
Troops, a Tale of Modern War," 1878; "Six Months at the Cape, or
Letters to Periwinkle from South Africa," 1879 (1878); "Post
Haste, a Tale of Her Majesty's Mails," 1880 (1879); "The Red Man's
Revenge, a Tale of the Red River Flood," 1880; "Philosopher Jack, a
Tale of the Southern Seas," 1880; "The Lonely Island, or the Refuge
of the Mutineers," 1880; "The Robber Kitten" (in volume of tales by
two or three authors), 1880; "The Collected Works of Ensign Sopht,
late of the Volunteers, illustrated by himself," 1881; "My Doggie
and I," etc., 1881; "The Giant of the North, or Pokings round the
Pole," 1882 (1881); "The Kitten Pilgrims, or Great Battles and
Grand Victories," 1882; "The Madman and the Pirate," 1883; "The
Battery and the Boiler, or Adventures in the Laying of Submarine
Cables," etc., 1883; "Battles with the Sea, or Heroes of the
Lifeboat and Rocket," 1883; "Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished, a
Tale of City-arab Life and Adventure," 1884 (1862); "Twice Bought, a Tale
of the Oregon Gold-fields," 1885 (1863); "The Island Queen, a Tale of the
Southern Hemisphere," etc., 1885; "The Rover of the Andes, a Tale of
Adventure in South America," 1885; "Red Rooney, or the Last of the Crew,"
1886; "The Big Otter, a Tale of the Great Nor'-West," 1887 (1864); "The
Middy of the Moors, an Algerine Story," 1888; "Blue Lights, or Hot Work
in the Soudan, a Tale of Soldier Life," 1888; "The Crew of the _Water
Wagtail_, a Story of Newfoundland," 1889; "A Gallant Rescue" (stories
jolly, stories new, etc.), 1889; "The Fight on the Green" (Miles'
Fifty-two Stories for Boys), 1889; "Charlie to the Rescue, a Tale of the
Sea and the Rockies," with illustrations by the author, 1890; "The Garret
and the Garden..., or the Young Coast-guardsman," 1890; "The Coxswain's
Bride, or the Rising Tide, and other Tales," with illustrations by the
author, 1891; "The Hot Swamp, a Romance of Old Albion," 1892; "Hunted and
Harried, a Tale of the Scottish Covenanters," 1892; "The Walrus Hunters,
a Romance of the Realms of Ice," 1893.

Ballantyne's Miscellany was started in 1863.




MY DEAR YOUNG READERS,

In presenting this book to you I have only to repeat what I have said in
the prefaces of my former works,--namely, that all the important points
and anecdotes are true; only the minor and unimportant ones being
mingled with fiction. With this single remark I commit my work to your
hands, and wish you a pleasant ramble, in spirit, through the romantic
forests of Brazil.

Yours affectionately,

R.M. BALLANTYNE.

[October, 1858.]




MARTIN RATTLER




CHAPTER I

THE HERO AND HIS ONLY RELATIVE


Martin Rattler was a very bad boy. At least his aunt, Mrs. Dorothy
Grumbit, said so; and certainly she ought to have known, if anybody
should, for Martin lived with her, and was, as she herself expressed it,
"the bane of her existence,--the very torment of her life." No doubt of
it whatever, according to Aunt Dorothy Grumbit's showing, Martin Rattler
was "a remarkably bad boy."

It is a curious fact, however, that, although most of the people in the
village of Ashford seemed to agree with Mrs. Grumbit in her opinion of
Martin, there were very few of them who did not smile cheerfully on the
child when they met him, and say, "Good day, lad!" as heartily as if they
thought him the best boy in the place. No one seemed to bear Martin
Rattler ill-will, notwithstanding his alleged badness. Men laughed when
they said he was a bad boy, as if they did not quite believe their own
assertion. The vicar, an old whiteheaded man, with a kind, hearty
countenance, said that the child was full of mischief, full of mischief;
but he would improve as he grew older, he was quite certain of that. And
the vicar was a good judge, for he had five boys of his own, besides
three other boys, the sons of a distant relative, who boarded with him;
and he had lived forty years in a parish overflowing with boys, and he
was particularly fond of boys in general. Not so the doctor, a pursy
little man with a terrific frown, who hated boys, especially little ones,
with a very powerful hatred. The doctor said that Martin was a scamp.

And yet Martin had not the appearance of a scamp. He had fat rosy cheeks,
a round rosy mouth, a straight delicately-formed nose, a firm massive
chin, and a broad forehead. But the latter was seldom visible, owing to
the thickly-clustering fair curls that overhung it. When asleep Martin's
face was the perfection of gentle innocence. But the instant he opened
his dark-brown eyes, a thousand dimples and wrinkles played over his
visage, chiefly at the corners of his mouth and round his eyes; as if the
spirit of fun and the spirit of mischief had got entire possession of the
boy, and were determined to make the most of him. When deeply interested
in anything, Martin was as grave and serious as a philosopher.

Aunt Dorothy Grumbit had a turned-up nose,--a very much turned-up nose;
so much so, indeed, that it presented a front view of the nostrils! It
was an aggravating nose, too for the old lady's spectacles refused to
rest on any part of it except the extreme point. Mrs. Grumbit invariably
placed them on the right part of her nose, and they as invariably slid
down the curved slope until they were brought up by the little hillock at
the end. There they condescended to repose in peace.

Mrs. Grumbit was mild, and gentle, and little, and thin, and
old,--perhaps seventy-five; but no one knew her age for certain, not even
herself. She wore an old-fashioned, high-crowned cap, and a gown of
bed-curtain chintz, with flowers on it the size of a saucer. It was a
curious gown, and very cheap, for Mrs. Grumbit was poor. No one knew the
extent of her poverty, any more than they did her age; but she herself
knew it, and felt it deeply,--never so deeply, perhaps, as when her
orphan nephew Martin grew old enough to be put to school, and she had not
wherewithal to send him. But love is quick-witted and resolute. A
residence of six years in Germany had taught her to knit stockings at a
rate that cannot be described, neither conceived unless seen. She knitted
two dozen pairs. The vicar took one dozen, the doctor took the other. The
fact soon became known. Shops were not numerous in the village in those
days; and the wares they supplied were only second rate. Orders came
pouring in, Mrs. Grumbit's knitting wires clicked, and her little old
hands wagged with incomprehensible rapidity and unflagging
regularity,--and Martin Rattler was sent to school.

While occupied with her knitting, she sat in a high-backed chair in a
very small deep window, through which the sun streamed nearly the whole
day; and out of which there was the most charming imaginable view of the
gardens and orchards of the villagers, with a little dancing brook in the
midst, and the green fields of the farmers beyond, studded with sheep and
cattle and knolls of woodland, and bounded in the far distance by the
bright blue sea. It was a lovely scene, such an one as causes the eye to
brighten and the heart to melt as we gaze upon it, and think, perchance,
of its Creator.

Yes, it was a scene worth looking at; but Mrs. Grumbit never looked at
it, for the simple reason that she could not have seen it if she had.
Half way across her own little parlour was the extent of her natural
vision. By the aid of spectacles and a steady concentrated effort, she
could see the fire-place at the other end of the room; and the portrait
of her deceased husband, who had been a sea-captain; and the white kitten
that usually sat on the rug before the fire. To be sure she saw them very
indistinctly. The picture was a hazy blue patch, which was the captain's
coat; with a white patch down the middle of it, which was his waistcoat;
and a yellow ball on the top of it, which was his head. It was rather an
indistinct and generalized view, no doubt; but she _saw_ it, and that was
a great comfort.




CHAPTER II

IN DISGRACE


Fire was the cause of Martin's getting into disgrace at school for the
first time; and this is how it happened.

"Go and poke the fire, Martin Rattler," said the school-master, "and put
on a bit of coal, and see that you don't send the sparks flying about
the floor."

Martin sprang with alacrity to obey; for he was standing up with the
class at the time, and was glad of the temporary relaxation. He stirred
the fire with great care, and put on several pieces of coal very slowly,
and rearranged them two or three times; after which he stirred the fire a
little more, and examined it carefully to see that it was all right; but
he did not seem quite satisfied, and was proceeding to re-adjust the
coals when Bob Croaker, one of the big boys, who was a bullying,
ill-tempered fellow, and had a spite against Martin, called out,--

"Please, sir, Rattler's playin' at the fire."

"Come back to your place, sir!" cried the master, sternly.

Martin returned in haste, and resumed his position in the class. As he
did so he observed that his fore-finger was covered with soot.
Immediately a smile of glee overspread his features; and, while the
master was busy with one of the boys, he drew his black finger gently
down the forehead and nose of the boy next to him.

"What part of the earth was peopled by the descendants of Ham?" cried the
master, pointing to the dux.

"Shem!" shrieked a small boy near the foot of the class.

"Silence!" thundered the master, with a frown that caused the small boy
to quake down to the points of his toes.

"Asia!" answered dux.

"Next?"

"Turkey!"

"Next, next, next? Hallo! John Ward," cried the master, starting up in
anger from his seat, "what do you mean by that, sir?"

"What, sir?" said John Ward, tremulously, while a suppressed titter ran
round the class.

"Your face, sir! Who blacked your face, eh?"

"I--I--don't know," said the boy, drawing his sleeve across his face,
which had the effect of covering it with sooty streaks.

An uncontrollable shout of laughter burst from the whole school, which
was instantly followed by a silence so awful and profound that a pin
might have been heard to fall.

"Martin Rattler, you did that! I know you did,--I see the marks on your
fingers. Come here, sir! Now tell me; _did_ you do it?"

Martin Rattler never told falsehoods. His old aunt had laboured to
impress upon him from infancy that to lie was to commit a sin which is
abhorred by God and scorned by man; and her teaching had not been in
vain. The child would have suffered any punishment rather than have told
a deliberate lie. He looked straight in the master's face and said, "Yes,
sir, I did it."

"Very well, go to your seat, and remain in school during the play-hour."

With a heavy heart Martin obeyed; and soon after the school was
dismissed.

"I say, Rattler," whispered Bob Croaker, as he passed, "I'm going to
teach your white kitten to swim just now. Won't you come and see it?"

The malicious laugh with which the boy accompanied this remark convinced
Martin that he intended to put his threat in execution. For a moment he
thought of rushing out after him to protect his pet kitten; but a glance
at the stern brow of the master, as he sat at his desk reading,
restrained him; so, crushing down his feelings of mingled fear and anger,
he endeavoured to while away the time by watching the boys as they played
in the fields before the windows of the school.




CHAPTER III

THE GREAT FIGHT


"Martin!" said the school-master, in a severe tone, looking up from the
book with which he was engaged, "don't look out at the window, sir; turn
your back to it."

"Please, sir, I can't help it," replied the boy, trembling with eagerness
as he stared across the fields.

"Turn your back on it, I say!" reiterated the master in a loud tone, at
the same time striking the desk violently with his cane.

"Oh, sir, let me out! There's Bob Croaker with my kitten. He's going to
drown it. I know he is,--he said he would; and if he does aunty will die,
for she loves it next to me; and I _must_ save it, and--and, if you
_don't_ let me out--you'll be a murderer!"

At this concluding burst, Martin sprang forward and stood before his
master with clenched fists and a face blazing with excitement. The
schoolmaster's gaze of astonishment gradually gave place to a dark frown
strangely mingled with a smile, and, when the boy concluded, he said
quietly--"You may go."

No second bidding was needed. The door flew open with a bang; and the
gravel of the play-ground, spurned right and left, dashed against the
window panes as Martin flew across it. The paling that fenced it off from
the fields beyond was low, but too high for a jump. Never a boy in all
the school had crossed that paling at a spring, without laying his hands
upon it; but Martin did. We do not mean to say that he did anything
superhuman; but he rushed at it like a charge of cavalry, sprang from the
ground like a deer, kicked away the top bar, tumbled completely over,
landed on his head, and rolled down the slope on the other side as fast
as he could have run down,--perhaps faster.

It would have required sharper eyes than yours or mine to have observed
how Martin got on his legs again, but he did it in a twinkling, and was
half across the field almost before you could wink, and panting on the
heels of Bob Croaker. Bob saw him coming and instantly started off at a
hard run, followed by the whole school. A few minutes brought them to the
banks of the stream, where Bob Croaker halted, and, turning round, held
the white kitten up by the nape of the neck.

"O spare it! spare it, Bob!--don't do it--please don't, don't do it!"
gasped Martin, as he strove in vain to run faster.

"There you go!" shouted Bob, with a coarse laugh, sending the kitten high
into the air, whence it fell with a loud splash into the water.

It was a dreadful shock to feline nerves, no doubt, but that white kitten
was no ordinary animal. Its little heart beat bravely when it rose to the
surface, and, before its young master came up, it had regained the bank.
But, alas! what a change! It went into the stream a fat, round,
comfortable ball of eider-down. It came out--a scraggy blotch of white
paint, with its black eyes glaring like two great glass beads! No sooner
did it crawl out of the water than Bob Croaker seized it, and whirled it
round his head, amid suppressed cries of "Shame!" intending to throw it
in again; but at that instant Martin Rattler seized Bob by the collar of
his coat with both hands, and, letting himself drop suddenly, dragged the
cruel boy to the ground, while the kitten crept humbly away and hid
itself in a thick tuft of grass.

A moment sufficed to enable Bob Croaker, who was nearly twice Martin's
weight, to free himself from the grasp of his panting antagonist, whom he
threw on his back, and doubled his fist, intending to strike Martin on
the face; but a general rush of the boys prevented this.

"Shame, shame, fair play!" cried several; "don't hit him when he's down!"

"Then let him rise up and come on!" cried Bob, fiercely, as he sprang up
and released Martin.

"Ay, that's fair. Now then, Martin, remember the kitten!"

"Strike men of your own size!" cried several of the bigger boys, as they
interposed to prevent Martin from rushing into the unequal contest.

"So I will," cried Bob Croaker, glaring round with passion. "Come on any
of you that likes. I don't care a button for the biggest of you."

No one accepted this challenge, for Bob was the oldest and the strongest
boy in the school, although, as is usually the case with bullies, by no
means the bravest.

Seeing that no one intended to fight with him, and that a crowd of boys
strove to hold Martin Rattler back, while they assured him that he had
not the smallest chance in the world, Bob turned towards the kitten,
which was quietly and busily employed in licking itself dry, and said,
"Now, Martin, you coward, I'll give it another swim for your impudence."

"Stop, stop!" cried Martin earnestly. "Bob Croaker, I would rather do
anything than fight. I would give you everything I have to save my
kitten; but if you won't spare it unless I fight, I'll do it. If you
throw it in before you fight me, you're the greatest coward that ever
walked. Just give me five minutes to breathe and a drink of water, and
I'll fight you as long as I can stand."

Bob looked at his little foe in surprise. "Well, that's fair. I'm your
man; but if you don't lick me I'll drown the kitten, that's all." Having
said this, he quietly divested himself of his jacket and neckcloth, while
several boys assisted Martin to do the same, and brought him a draught of
water in the crown of one of their caps. In five minutes all was ready,
and the two boys stood face to face and foot to foot, with their fists
doubled and revolving, and a ring of boys around them.

Just at this moment the kitten, having found the process of licking
itself dry more fatiguing than it had expected, gave vent to a faint mew
of distress. It was all that was wanting to set Martin's indignant heart
into a blaze of inexpressible fury. Bob Croaker's visage instantly
received a shower of sharp, stinging blows, that had the double effect of
taking that youth by surprise and throwing him down upon the green sward.
But Martin could not hope to do this a second time. Bob now knew the
vigour of his assailant, and braced himself warily to the combat,
commencing operations by giving Martin a tremendous blow on the point of
his nose, and another on the chest. These had the effect of tempering
Martin's rage with a salutary degree of caution, and of eliciting from
the spectators sundry cries of warning on the one hand, and admiration on
the other, while the young champions revolved warily round each other,
and panted vehemently.

The battle that was fought that day was one of a thousand. It created as
great a sensation in the village school as did the battle of Waterloo in
England. It was a notable fight; such as had not taken place within the
memory of the oldest boy in the village, and from which, in after years,
events of juvenile history were dated,--especially pugilistic events, of
which, when a good one came off, it used to be said that "such a battle
had not taken place since the year of the _Great Fight_" Bob Croaker was
a noted fighter. Martin Rattler was, up to this date, an untried hero.
Although fond of rough play and boisterous mischief, he had an
unconquerable aversion to _earnest_ fighting, and very rarely indeed
returned home with a black eye,--much to the satisfaction of Aunt Dorothy
Grumbit, who objected to all fighting from principle, and frequently
asserted, in gentle tones, that there should be no soldiers or sailors
(fighting sailors, she meant) at all, but that people ought all to settle
everything the best way they could without fighting, and live peaceably
with one another, as the Bible told them to do. They would be far happier
and better off, she was sure of that; and if everybody was of her way of
thinking, there would be neither swords, nor guns, nor pistols, nor
squibs, nor anything else at all! Dear old lady. It would indeed be a
blessing if her principles could be carried out in this warring and
jarring world. But as this is rather difficult, what we ought to be
careful about is, that we never fight except in a good cause and with a
clear conscience.

It was well for Martin Rattler, on that great day, that the formation of
the ground favoured him. The spot on which the fight took place was
uneven, and covered with little hillocks and hollows, over which Bob
Croaker stumbled, and into which he fell,--being a clumsy boy on his
legs,--and did himself considerable damage; while Martin, who was firmly
knit and active as a kitten, scarcely ever fell, or, if he did, sprang up
again like an India-rubber ball. Fair-play was embedded deep in the
centre of Martin's heart, so that he scorned to hit his adversary when he
was down or in the act of rising; but the thought of the fate that
awaited the white kitten if he were conquered, acted like lightning in
his veins, and scarcely had Bob time to double his fists after a fall,
when he was knocked back again into the hollow out of which he had risen.
There were no _rounds_ in this fight,--no pausing to recover breath.
Martin's anger rose with every blow, whether given or received; and
although he was knocked down flat four or five times, he rose again, and,
without a second's delay, rushed headlong at his enemy. Feeling that he
was too little and light to make much impression on Bob Croaker by means
of mere blows, he endeavoured as much as possible to throw his weight
against him at each assault; but Bob stood his ground well, and after a
time seemed even to be recovering strength a little.

Suddenly he made a rush at Martin, and, dealing him a successful blow on
the forehead, knocked him down; at the same time he himself tripped over
a molehill and fell upon his face. Both were on their legs in an instant.
Martin grew desperate. The white kitten swimming for its life seemed to
rise before him, and new energy was infused into his frame. He retreated
a step or two, and then darted forward like an arrow from a bow. Uttering
a loud cry, he sprang completely in the air and plunged--head and fists
together, as if he were taking a dive--into Bob Croaker's bosom! The
effect was tremendous. Bob went down like a shock of grain before the
sickle; and having, in their prolonged movements, approached close to the
brink of the stream, both he and Martin went with a sounding splash into
the deep pool and disappeared. It was but for a moment, however, Martin's
head emerged first, with eyes and mouth distended to the utmost.
Instantly, on finding bottom, he turned to deal his opponent another
blow; but it was not needed. When Bob Croaker's head rose to the surface
there was no motion in the features, and the eyes were closed. The
intended blow was changed into a friendly grasp; and, exerting himself to
the utmost, Martin dragged his insensible school-fellow to the bank,
where, in a few minutes, he recovered sufficiently to declare in a sulky
tone that he would fight no more!

"Bob Croaker," said Martin, holding out his hand, "I'm sorry we've had to
fight. I wouldn't have done it, but to save my kitten. You compelled me
to do it, you know that. Come, let's be friends again."

Bob made no reply, but slowly and with some difficulty put on his vest
and jacket.

"I'm sure," continued Martin, "there's no reason in bearing me ill-will.
I've done nothing unfair, and I'm very sorry we've had to fight. Won't
you shake hands?"

Bob was silent.

"Come, come, Bob!" cried several of the bigger boys, "don't be sulky,
man; shake hands and be friends. Martin has licked you this time, and
you'll lick him next time, no doubt, and that's all about it."

"Arrah, then, ye're out there, intirely. Bob Croaker'll niver lick Martin
Rattler though he wos to live to the age of the great M'Thuselah!'" said
a deep-toned voice close to the spot where the fight had taken place.

All eyes were instantly turned in the direction whence it proceeded, and
the boys now became aware, for the first time, that the combat had been
witnessed by a sailor, who, with a smile of approval beaming on his
good-humoured countenance, sat under the shade of a neighbouring tree
smoking a pipe of that excessive shortness and blackness that seems to be
peculiarly beloved by Irishmen in the humbler ranks of life. The man was
very tall and broad-shouldered, and carried himself with a free-and-easy
swagger, as he rose and approached the group of boys.

"He'll niver bate ye, Martin, avic, as long as there's two timbers of ye
houldin' togither."

The seaman patted Martin on the head as he spoke; and, turning to Bob
Croaker, continued: "Ye ought to be proud, ye spalpeen, o' bein' wopped
by sich a young hero as this. Come here and shake hands with him: d'ye
hear? Troth an' it's besmearin' ye with too much honour that same. There,
that'll do. Don't say ye're sorry now, for it's lies ye'd be tellin' if
ye did. Come along, Martin, an' I'll convarse with ye as ye go home.
Ye'll be a man yet, as sure as my name is Barney O'Flannagan."

Martin took the white kitten in his arms and thrust its wet little body
into his equally wet bosom, where the warmth began soon to exercise a
soothing influence on the kitten's depressed spirits, so that, ere long,
it began to purr. He then walked with the sailor towards the village,
with his face black and blue, and swelled and covered with blood, while
Bob Croaker and his companions returned to the school.

The distance to Martin's residence was not great, but it was sufficient
to enable the voluble Irishman to recount a series of the most wonderful
adventures and stories of foreign lands, that set Martin's heart on fire
with desire to go to sea,--a desire which was by no means new to him, and
which recurred violently every time he paid a visit to the small sea-port
of Bilton, which lay about five miles to the southward of his native
village. Moreover, Barney suggested that it was time Martin should be
doing for himself (he was now ten years old), and said that if he would
join his ship, he could get him a berth, for he was much in want of an
active lad to help him with the coppers. But Martin Rattler sighed
deeply, and said that, although his heart was set upon going to sea, he
did not see how it was to be managed, for his aunt would not let him go.

Before they separated, however, it was arranged that Martin should pay
the sailor's ship a visit, when he would hear a good deal more about
foreign lands; and that, in the meantime, he should make another attempt
to induce Aunt Dorothy Grumbit to give her consent to his going to sea.




CHAPTER IV

A LESSON TO ALL STOCKING-KNITTERS--MARTIN'S PROSPECTS BEGIN TO OPEN UP


In the small sea-port of Bilton, before mentioned, there dwelt an old and
wealthy merchant and ship-owner, who devoted a small portion of his time
to business, and a very large portion of it to what is usually termed
"doing good," This old gentleman was short, and stout, and rosy, and
bald, and active, and sharp as a needle.

In the short time that Mr. Arthur Jollyboy devoted to business, he
accomplished as much as most men do in the course of a long day. There
was not a benevolent society in the town, of which Arthur Jollyboy,
Esquire, of the Old Hulk (as he styled his cottage), was not a member,
director, secretary, and treasurer, all in one, and all at once! If it
had been possible for man to be ubiquitous, Mr. Jollyboy would have been
so naturally; or, if not naturally, he would have made himself so by
force of will. Yet he made no talk about it. His step was quiet, though
quick; and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famous
for _talking_ little and _doing_ much.

Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had received
information of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement. That same afternoon he
put on his broad-brimmed white hat, and, walking out to the village in
which she lived, called upon the vicar, who was a particular and intimate
friend of his. Having ascertained from the vicar that Mrs. Grumbit would
not accept of charity, he said abruptly,--

"And why not,--is she too proud?"

"By no means," replied the vicar. "She says that she would think shame to
take money from friends as long as she can work, because every penny that
she would thus get would be so much less to go to the helpless poor; of
whom, she says, with much truth, there are enough and to spare. And I
quite agree with her as regards her principle; but it does not apply
fully to her, for she cannot work so as to procure a sufficient
livelihood without injury to her health."

"Is she clever?" inquired Mr. Jollyboy.

"Why, no, not particularly. In fact, she does not often exert her
reasoning faculties, except in the common-place matters of ordinary and
every-day routine."

"Then she's cleverer than most people," said Mr. Jollyboy, shortly. "Is
she obstinate?"

"No, not in the least," returned the vicar with a puzzled smile.

"Ah, well, good-bye, good-bye; that's all I want to know."

Mr. Jollyboy rose, and hurrying through the village, tapped at the
cottage door, and was soon closeted with Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit. In the
course of half an hour, Mr. Jollyboy drew from Mrs. Grumbit as much about
her private affairs as he could, without appearing rude. But he found the
old lady very close and sensitive on that point. Not so, however, when he
got her upon the subject of her nephew. She had enough, and more than
enough, to say about him. It is true she began by remarking, sadly, that
he was a very bad boy; but, as she continued to talk about him, she
somehow or other gave her visitor the impression that he was a very
_good_ boy! They had a wonderfully long and confidential talk about
Martin, during which Mr. Jollyboy struck Mrs. Grumbit nearly dumb with
horror by stating positively what he would do for the boy,--he would send
him to sea! Then, seeing that he had hit the wrongest possible nail on
the head, he said that he would make the lad a clerk in his office, where
he would be sure to rise to a place of trust; whereat Mrs. Grumbit
danced, if we may so speak, into herself for joy.

"And now, ma'am, about these stockings. I want two thousand pairs as soon
as I can get them!"

"Sir?" said Mrs. Grumbit.

"Of course, not for my own use, ma'am; nor for the use of my family, for
I have no family; and if I had, that would be an unnecessarily large
supply. The fact is, Mrs. Grumbit, I am a merchant, and I send very large
supplies of home-made articles to foreign lands, and two thousand pairs
of socks are a mere driblet. Of course I do not expect you to make them
all for me, but I wish you to make as many pairs as you can."

"I shall be very happy--" began Mrs. Grumbit.

"But, Mrs. Grumbit, there is a peculiar formation which I require in my
socks that will give you extra trouble, I fear; but I must have it,
whatever the additional expense may be. What is your charge for the pair
you are now making?"

"Three shillings," said Mrs. Grumbit.

"Ah! very good. Now, take up the wires if you please, ma'am, and do what
I tell you. Now, drop that stitch,--good; and take up this one,--capital;
and pull this one across that way,--so; and that one across this
way,--exactly. Now, what is the result?"

The result was a complicated knot; and Mrs. Grumbit, after staring a few
seconds at the old gentleman in surprise, said so, and begged to know
what use it was of.

"Oh, never mind, never mind. We merchants have strange fancies, and
foreigners have curious tastes now and then. Please to make all my
socks with a hitch like that in them all round, just above the ankle.
It will form an ornamental ring. I'm sorry to put you to the trouble,
but of course I pay extra for fancy-work. Will six shillings a pair do
for these?"

"My dear sir," said Mrs. Grumbit, "it is no additional--"

"Well, well, never mind," said Mr. Jollyboy. "Two thousand pairs,
remember, as soon as possible,--close knitted, plain stitch, rather
coarse worsted; and don't forget the hitch, Mrs. Grumbit, don't forget
the hitch."

Ah! reader, there are many Mrs. Grumbits in this world, requiring
_hitches_ to be made in their stockings!

At this moment the door burst open. Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit uttered a
piercing scream, Mr. Jollyboy dropped his spectacles and sat down on
his hat, and Martin Rattler stood before them with the white kitten
in his arms.

For a few seconds there was a dead silence, while an expression of
puzzled disappointment passed over Mr. Jollyboy's ruddy countenance. At
last he said,--

"Is this, madam, the nephew who, you told me a little ago, is not
addicted to fighting?"

"Yes," answered the old lady faintly, and covering her eyes with her
hands, "that is Martin."

"If my aunt told you that, sir, she told you the truth," said Martin,
setting down the blood-stained white kitten, which forthwith began to
stretch its limbs and lick itself dry. "I don't ever fight if I can help
it, but I couldn't help it to-day."

With a great deal of energy, and a revival of much of his former
indignation, when he spoke of the kitten's sufferings, Martin recounted
all the circumstances of the fight; during the recital of which Mrs.
Dorothy Grumbit took his hand in hers and patted it, gazing the while
into his swelled visage, and weeping plentifully, but very silently. When
he had finished, Mr. Jollyboy shook hands with him, and said he was a
trump, at the same time recommending him to go and wash his face. Then he
whispered a few words in Mrs. Grumbit's ear, which seemed to give that
excellent lady much pleasure; after which he endeavoured to straighten
his crushed hat; in which attempt he failed, took his leave, promised to
call again very soon, and went back to the Old Hulk--chuckling.




CHAPTER V

MARTIN, BEING WILLING TO GO TO SEA, GOES TO SEA AGAINST HIS WILL


Four years rolled away, casting chequered light and shadow over the
little village of Ashford in their silent passage,--whitening the
forelocks of the aged, and strengthening the muscles of the young. Death,
too, touched a hearth here and there, and carried desolation to a home;
for four years cannot wing their flight without enforcing on us the
lesson--which we are so often taught, and yet take so long to learn--that
this is not our rest,--that here we have no abiding city. Did we but
ponder this lesson more frequently and earnestly, instead of making us
sad, it would nerve our hearts and hands to fight and work more
diligently,--to work in the cause of our Redeemer,--the only cause that
is worth the life-long energy of immortal beings,--the great cause that
includes all others; and it would teach us to remember that our little
day of opportunity will soon be spent, and that the night is at hand in
which no man can work.

Four years rolled away, and during this time Martin, having failed to
obtain his aunt's consent to his going to sea, continued at school, doing
his best to curb the roving spirit that strove within him. Martin was not
particularly bright at the dead languages; to the rules of grammar he
entertained a rooted aversion; and at history he was inclined to yawn,
except when it happened to touch upon the names and deeds of such men as
Vasco di Gama and Columbus. But in geography he was perfect; and in
arithmetic and book-keeping he was quite a proficient, to the delight of
Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit, whose household books he summed up; and to the
satisfaction of his fast friend, Mr. Arthur Jollyboy, whose ledgers he
was--in that old gentleman's secret resolves--destined to keep.

Martin was now fourteen, broad and strong, and tall for his age. He was
the idol of the school,--dashing, daring, reckless, and good-natured.
There was almost nothing that he would not attempt, and there were very
few things that he could not do. He never fought, however--from
principle; and his strength and size often saved him from the necessity.
But he often prevented other boys from fighting, except when he thought
there was good reason for it; then he stood by and saw fair play. There
was a strange mixture of philosophical gravity, too, in Martin. As he
grew older he became more enthusiastic and less boisterous.

Bob Croaker was still at the school, and was, from prudential motives, a
fast friend of Martin. But he bore him a secret grudge, for he could not
forget the great fight.

One day Bob took Martin by the arm, and said, "I say, Rattler, come with
me to Bilton, and have some fun among the shipping."

"Well, I don't mind if I do," said Martin. "I'm just in the mood for a
ramble, and I'm not expected home till bed-time."

In little more than an hour the two boys were wandering about the
dock-yards of the sea-port town, and deeply engaged in examining the
complicated rigging of the ships. While thus occupied, the clanking of a
windlass and the merry "Yo heave O! and away she goes," of the sailors,
attracted their attention.

"Hallo! there goes the _Firefly_, bound for the South Seas," cried Bob
Croaker; "come, let's see her start. I say, Martin, isn't your friend,
Barney O'Flannagan, on board?"

"Yes, he is. He tries to get me to go out every voyage, and I wish I
could. Come quickly; I want to say good-bye to him before he starts."

"Why don't you run away, Rattler?" inquired Bob, as they hurried round
the docks to where the vessel was warping out.

"Because I don't need to. My aunt has given me leave to go if I like; but
she says it would break her heart if I do; and I would rather be screwed
down to a desk for ever than do that, Bob Croaker."

The vessel, upon the deck of which the two boys now leaped, was a large,
heavy-built barque. Her sails were hanging loose, and the captain was
giving orders to the men, who had their attention divided between their
duties on board and their mothers, wives, and sisters, who still lingered
to take a last farewell.

"Now, then, those who don't want to go to sea had better go ashore,"
roared the captain.

There was an immediate rush to the side.

"I say, Martin," whispered Barney, as he hurried past, "jump down below
for'ard; you can go out o' the harbour mouth with us and get ashore in
one o' the shore-boats alongside. They'll not cast off till we're well
out. I want to speak to you--"

"Man the fore top-sail halyards," shouted the first mate.

"Ay ay, sir-r-r," and the men sprang to obey. Just then the ship
touched on the bar at the mouth of the harbour, and in another moment
she was aground.

"There, now, she's hard and fast!" roared the captain, as he stormed
about the deck in a paroxysm of rage. But man's rage could avail nothing.
They had missed the passage by a few feet, and now they had to wait the
fall and rise again of the tide ere they could hope to get off.

In the confusion that followed, Bob Croaker suggested that Martin and he
should take one of the punts, or small boats which hovered round the
vessel, and put out to sea, where they might spend the day pleasantly in
rowing and fishing.

"Capital!" exclaimed Martin. "Let's go at once. Yonder's a little fellow
who will let us have his punt for a few pence. I know him. Hallo, Tom!"

"Ay, ay," squeaked a boy who was so small that he could scarcely lift the
oar, light though it was, with which he sculled his punt cleverly along.

"Shove alongside, like a good fellow; we want your boat for a little to
row out a bit."

"It's a-blowin' too hard," squeaked the small boy, as he ranged
alongside. "I'm afeared you'll be blowed out."

"Nonsense!" cried Bob Croaker, grasping the rope which the boy threw to
him. "Jump on board, younker; we don't want you to help us, and you're
too heavy for ballast. Slip down the side, Martin, and get in while I
hold on to the rope. All right? now I'll follow. Here, shrimp, hold the
rope till I'm in, and then cast off. Look alive!"

As Bob spoke, he handed the rope to the little boy; but, in doing so, let
it accidentally slip out of his hand.

"Catch hold o' the main chains, Martin,--quick!"

But Martin was too late. The current that swept out of the harbour
whirled the light punt away from the ship's side, and carried it out
seaward. Martin instantly sprang to the oar, and turned the boat's head
round. He was a stout and expert rower, and would soon have regained the
ship; but the wind increased at the moment, and blew in a squall off
shore, which carried him further out despite his utmost efforts. Seeing
that all further attempts were useless, Martin stood up and waved his
hand to Bob Croaker, shouting as he did so, "Never mind, Bob, I'll make
for the South Point. Run round and meet me, and we'll row back together."

The South Point was a low cape of land which stretched a considerable
distance out to sea, about three miles to the southward of Bilton
harbour. It formed a large bay, across which, in ordinary weather, a
small boat might be rowed in safety. Martin Rattler was well known at the
sea-port as a strong and fearless boy, so that no apprehension was
entertained for his safety by those who saw him blown away. Bob Croaker
immediately started for the Point on foot, a distance of about four miles
by land; and the crew of the _Firefly_ were so busied with their stranded
vessel that they took no notice of the doings of the boys.

But the weather now became more and more stormy. Thick clouds gathered on
the horizon. The wind began to blow with steady violence, and shifted a
couple of points to the southward; so that Martin found it impossible to
keep straight for the Point. Still he worked perseveringly at his single
oar, and sculled rapidly over the sea; but, as he approached the Point,
he soon perceived that no effort of which he was capable could enable him
to gain it. But Martin's heart was stout. He strove with all the energy
of hope, until the Point was passed; and then, turning the head of his
little boat towards it, he strove with all the energy of despair, until
he fell down exhausted. The wind and tide swept him rapidly out to sea;
and when his terrified comrade reached the Point, the little boat was but
a speck on the seaward horizon.

Well was it then for Martin Rattler that a friendly heart beat for him on
board the _Firefly_, Bob Croaker carried the news to the town; but no one
was found daring enough to risk his life out in a boat on that stormy
evening. The little punt had been long out of sight ere the news reached
them, and the wind had increased to a gale. But Barney O'Flannagan
questioned Bob Croaker closely, and took particular note of the point of
the compass at which Martin had disappeared; and when the _Firefly_ at
length got under weigh, he climbed to the fore-top cross-trees, and stood
there scanning the horizon with an anxious eye.

It was getting dark, and a feeling of despair began to creep over
the seaman's heart as he gazed round the wide expanse of water, on
which nothing was to be seen except the white foam that crested the
rising billows.

"Starboard, hard!" he shouted suddenly.

"Starboard it is!" replied the man at the wheel, with prompt obedience.

In another moment Barney slid down the back-stay and stood on the deck,
while the ship rounded to and narrowly missed striking a small boat that
floated keel up on the water. There was no cry from the boat; and it
might have been passed as a mere wreck, had not the lynx eye of Barney
noticed a dark object clinging to it.

"Lower away a boat, lads," cried the Irishman, springing overboard;
and the words had scarcely passed his lips when the water closed
over his head.

The _Firefly_ was hove to, a boat was lowered and rowed towards Barney,
whose strong voice guided his shipmates towards him. In less than a
quarter of an hour the bold sailor and his young friend Martin Rattler
were safe on board, and the ship's head was again turned out to sea.

It was full half an hour before Martin was restored to consciousness in
the forecastle, to which his deliverer had conveyed him.

"Musha, lad, but ye're booked for the blue wather now, an' no mistake!"
said Barney, looking with an expression of deep sympathy at the poor boy,
who sat staring before him quite speechless. "The capting'll not let ye
out o' this ship till ye git to the gould coast, or some sich place. He
couldn't turn back av he wanted iver so much; but he doesn't want to, for
he needs a smart lad like you, an' he'll keep you now, for sartin."

Barney sat down by Martin's side and stroked his fair curls, as he sought
in his own quaint fashion to console him. But in vain. Martin grew quite
desperate as he thought of the misery into which poor Aunt Dorothy
Grumbit would be plunged, on learning that he had been swept out to sea
in a little boat, and drowned, as she would naturally suppose. In his
frenzy he entreated and implored the captain to send him back in the
boat, and even threatened to knock out his brains with a handspike if he
did not; but the captain smiled and told him that it was his own fault.
He had no business to be putting to sea in a small boat in rough weather,
and he might be thankful he wasn't drowned. He wouldn't turn back now for
fifty pounds twice told.

At length Martin became convinced that all hope of returning home was
gone. He went quietly below, threw himself into one of the sailor's
berths, turned his face to the wall, and wept long and bitterly.




CHAPTER VI

THE VOYAGE, A PIRATE, CHASE, WRECK, AND ESCAPE


Time reconciles a man to almost anything. In the course of time Martin
Rattler became reconciled to his fate, and went about the ordinary duties
of a cabin-boy on board the _Firefly_ just as if he had been appointed to
that office in the ordinary way,--with the consent of the owners and by
the advice of his friends. The captain, Skinflint by name, and as surly
an old fellow as ever walked a quarter-deck, agreed to pay him wages "if
he behaved well." The steward, under whose immediate authority he was
placed, turned out to be a hearty, good-natured young fellow, and was
very kind to him. But Martin's great friend was Barney O'Flannagan, the
cook, with whom he spent many an hour in the night watches, talking over
plans, and prospects, and retrospects, and foreign lands.

As Martin had no clothes except those on his back, which fortunately
happened to be new and good, Barney gave him a couple of blue striped
shirts, and made him a jacket, pantaloons, and slippers of canvas; and,
what was of much greater importance, taught him how to make and mend the
same for himself.

"Ye see, Martin, lad," he said, while thus employed one day, many weeks
after leaving port, "it's a great thing, intirely, to be able to help
yerself. For my part, I niver travel without my work-box in my pocket."

"Your work-box!" said Martin, laughing.

"Jist so. An' it consists of wan sail-maker's needle, a ball o' twine,
and a clasp-knife. Set me down with these before a roll o' canvas and
I'll make you a'most anything."

"You seem to have a turn for everything, Barney," said Martin. "How came
you to be a cook?"

"That's more nor I can tell ye, lad. As far as I remimber, I began with
murphies, when I was two feet high, in my father's cabin in ould Ireland.
But that was on my own account intirely, and not as a purfession; and a
sorrowful time I had of it, too, for I was for iver burnin' my fingers
promiskiously, and fallin' into the fire ivery day more or less--"

"Stand by to hoist top-gallant-sails," shouted the captain. "How's
her head?"

"South and by east, sir," answered the man at the wheel.

"Keep her away two points. Look alive lads. Hand me the glass, Martin."

The ship was close hauled when these abrupt orders were given, battling
in the teeth of a stiff breeze, off the coast of South America. About
this time, several piratical vessels had succeeded in cutting off a
number of merchantmen near the coast of Brazil. They had not only taken
the valuable parts of their cargoes, but had murdered the crews under
circumstances of great cruelty; and ships trading to these regions were,
consequently, exceedingly careful to avoid all suspicious craft as much
as possible. It was, therefore, with some anxiety that the men watched
the captain's face as he examined the strange sail through the telescope.

"A Spanish schooner," muttered the captain, as he shut up the glass with
a bang. "I won't trust her. Up with the royals and rig out stun'-sails,
Mr. Wilson, (to the mate). Let her fall away, keep her head nor'-west,
d'ye hear?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Let go the lee braces and square the yards. Look sharp, now, lads. If
that blackguard gets hold of us ye'll have to walk the plank, every
man of ye."

In a few minutes the ship's course was completely altered; a cloud of
canvas spread out from the yards, and the _Firefly_ bounded on her course
like a fresh race-horse. But it soon became evident that the heavy barque
was no match for the schooner, which crowded sail and bore down at a rate
that bade fair to overhaul them in a few hours. The chase continued till
evening, when suddenly the look-out at the mast-head shouted, "Land, ho!"

"Where away?" cried the captain.

"Right ahead," sang out the man.

"I'll run her ashore sooner than be taken," muttered the captain, with an
angry scowl at the schooner, which was now almost within range on the
weather quarter, with the dreaded black flag flying at her peak. In a few
minutes breakers were descried ahead.

"D'ye see anything like a passage?" shouted the captain.

"Yes, sir; two points on the weather bow."

At this moment a white cloud burst from the schooner's bow, and a shot,
evidently from a heavy gun, came ricochetting over the sea. It was well
aimed, for it cut right through the barque's main-mast, just below the
yard, and brought the main-top-mast, with all the yards, sails, and
gearing above it, down upon the deck. The weight of the wreck, also,
carried away the fore-top-mast, and, in a single instant, the _Firefly_
was completely disabled.

"Lower away the boats," cried the captain; "look alive, now; we'll give
them the slip yet. It'll be dark in two minutes."

The captain was right. In tropical regions there is little or no
twilight. Night succeeds day almost instantaneously. Before the boats
were lowered and the men embarked it was becoming quite dark. The
schooner observed the movement, however, and, as she did not dare to
venture through the reef in the dark, her boats were also lowered and the
chase was recommenced.

The reef was passed in safety, and now a hard struggle took place, for
the shore was still far distant. As it chanced to be cloudy weather the
darkness became intense, and progress could only be guessed at by the
sound of the oars; but these soon told too plainly that the boats of the
schooner were overtaking those of the barque.

"Pull with a will, lads," cried the captain; "we can't be more than half
a mile from shore; give way, my hearties."

"Surely, captain, we can fight them, we've most of us got pistols and
cutlasses," said one of the men in a sulky tone.

"Fight them!" cried the captain, "they're four times our number, and
every man armed to the teeth. If ye don't fancy walking the plank or
dancing on nothing at the yard-arm, ye'd better pull away and hold
your jaw."

By this time they could just see the schooner's boats in the dim light,
about half-musket range astern.

"Back you' oars," shouted a stern voice in broken English, "or I blow you
out de watter in one oder moment,--black-yards!"

This order was enforced by a musket shot, which whizzed over the boat
within an inch of the captain's head. The men ceased rowing and the boats
of the pirate ranged close up.

"Now then, Martin," whispered Barney O'Flannagan, who sat at the bow oar,
"I'm goin' to swim ashore; jist you slip arter me as quiet as ye can."

"But the sharks!" suggested Martin.

"Bad luck to them," said Barney as he slipped over the side, "they're
welcome to me. Til take my chance. They'll find me mortial tough, anyhow.
Come along, lad, look sharp!"

Without a moment's hesitation Martin slid over the gunwale into the sea,
and, just as the pirate boats grappled with those of the barque, he and
Barney found themselves gliding as silently as otters towards the shore.
So quietly had the manoeuvre been accomplished, that the men in their own
boat were ignorant of their absence. In a few minutes they were beyond
the chance of detection.

"Keep close to me, lad," whispered the Irishman. "If we separate in the
darkness we'll niver forgather again. Catch hould o; my shoulder if ye
get blowed, and splutter as much as ye like. They can't hear us now, and
it'll help to frighten the sharks."

"All right," replied Martin; "I can swim like a cork in such warm water
as this. Just go a little slower and I'll do famously."

Thus encouraging each other, and keeping close together, lest they should
get separated in the thick darkness of the night, the two friends struck
out bravely for the shore.




CHAPTER VII

MARTIN AND BARNEY GET LOST IN A GREAT FOREST, WHERE THEY SEE STRANGE AND
TERRIBLE THINGS


On gaining the beach, the first thing that Barney did, after shaking
himself like a huge Newfoundland dog, was to ascertain that his pistol
and cutlass were safe; for, although the former could be of no use in its
present condition, still, as he sagaciously remarked, "it was a good
thing to have, for they might chance to git powder wan day or other, and
the flint would make fire, anyhow." Fortunately the weather was extremely
warm; so they were enabled to take off and wring their clothes without
much inconvenience, except that in a short time a few adventurous
mosquitoes--probably sea-faring ones--came down out of the woods and
attacked their bare bodies so vigorously that they were fain to hurry on
their clothes again before they were quite dry.

The clouds began to clear away soon after they landed, and the brilliant
light of the southern constellations revealed to them dimly the
appearance of the coast. It was a low sandy beach skirting the sea and
extending back for about a quarter of a mile in the form of a grassy
plain, dotted here and there with scrubby underwood. Beyond this was a
dark line of forest. The light was not sufficient to enable them to
ascertain the appearance of the interior. Barney and Martin now cast
about in their minds how they were to spend the night.

"Ye see," said the Irishman, "it's of no use goin' to look for houses,
because there's maybe none at all on this coast; an' there's no sayin'
but we may fall in with savages--for them parts swarms with them; so we'd
better go into the woods an'--"

Barney was interrupted here by a low howl, which proceeded from the woods
referred to, and was most unlike any cry they had ever heard before.

"Och, but I'll think better of it. P'raps it'll be as well _not_ to go
into the woods, but to camp where we are."

"I think so too," said Martin, searching about for small twigs and
drift-wood with which to make a fire. "There is no saying what sort of
wild beasts may be in the forest, so we had better wait till daylight."

A fire was quickly lighted by means of the pistol-flint and a little dry
grass, which, when well bruised and put into the pan, caught a spark
after one or two attempts, and was soon blown into a flame. But no wood
large enough to keep the fire burning for any length of time could be
found; so Barney said he would go up to the forest and fetch some. "I'll
lave my shoes and socks, Martin, to dry at the fire. See ye don't let
them burn."

Traversing the meadow with hasty strides, the bold sailor quickly reached
the edge of the forest, where he began to lop off several dead branches
from the trees with his cutlass. While thus engaged the howl which had
formerly startled him was repeated. "Av I only knowed what ye was,"
muttered Barney in a serious tone, "it would be some sort o' comfort."

A loud cry of a different kind here interrupted his soliloquy, and soon
after the first cry was repeated louder than before.

Clenching his teeth and knitting his brows the perplexed Irishman resumed
his work with a desperate resolve not to be again interrupted. But he had
miscalculated the strength of his nerves. Albeit as brave a man as ever
stepped, when his enemy was before him, Barney was, nevertheless,
strongly imbued with superstitious feelings; and the conflict between his
physical courage and his mental cowardice produced a species of wild
exasperation, which, he often asserted, was very hard to bear. Scarcely
had he resumed his work when a bat of enormous size brushed past his nose
so noiselessly that it seemed more like a phantom than a reality. Barney
had never seen anything of the sort before, and a cold perspiration broke
out upon him, when he fancied it might be a ghost. Again the bat swept
past close to his eyes.

"Musha, but I'll kill ye, ghost or no ghost," he ejaculated, gazing all
round into the gloomy depths of the woods with his cutlass uplifted.
Instead of flying again in front of him, as he had expected, the bat flew
with a whirring noise past his ear. Down came the cutlass with a sudden
thwack, cutting deep into the trunk of a small tree, which trembled under
the shock and sent a shower of ripe nuts of a large size down upon the
sailor's head. Startled as he was, he sprang backward with a wild cry;
then, half ashamed of his groundless fears, he collected the wood he had
cut, threw it hastily on his shoulder and went with a quick step out of
the woods. In doing so he put his foot upon the head of a small snake,
which wriggled up round his ankle and leg. If there was anything on earth
that Barney abhorred and dreaded it was a snake. No sooner did he feel
its cold form writhing under his foot, than he uttered a tremendous yell
of terror, dropped his bundle of sticks, and fled precipitately to the
beach, where he did not hall till he found himself knee-deep in the sea.

"Och, Martin, boy," gasped the affrighted sailor, "it's my belafe that
all the evil spirits on arth live in yonder wood; indeed I do."

"Nonsense, Barney," said Martin, laughing; "there are no such things as
ghosts; at any rate I'm resolved to face them, for if we don't get some
sticks the fire will go out and leave us very comfortless. Come, I'll go
up with you."

"Put on yer shoes then, avic, for the sarpints are no ghosts, anyhow, and
I'm tould they're pisonous sometimes."

They soon found the bundle of dry sticks that Barney had thrown down, and
returning with it to the beach, they speedily kindled a roaring fire,
which made them feel quite cheerful. True, they had nothing to eat; but
having had a good dinner on board the barque late that afternoon, they
were not much in want of food. While they sat thus on the sand of the
sea-shore, spreading their hands before the blaze and talking over their
strange position, a low rumbling of distant thunder was heard. Barney's
countenance instantly fell.

"What's the matter, Barney?" inquired Martin, as he observed his
companion gaze anxiously up at the sky.

"Och, it's comin', sure enough."

"And what though it does come?" returned Martin; "we can creep under one
of these thick bushes till the shower is past."

"Did ye iver see a thunder-storm in the tropics?" inquired Barney.

"No, never," replied Martin.

"Then if ye don't want to feel and see it both at wance, come with me as
quick as iver ye can."

Barney started up as he spoke, stuck his cutlass and pistol into his
belt, and set off towards the woods at a sharp run, followed closely by
his wondering companion.

Their haste was by no means unnecessary. Great black clouds rushed up
towards the zenith from all points of the compass, and, just as they
reached the woods, darkness so thick that it might almost be felt
overspread the scene. Then there was a flash of lightning so vivid that
it seemed as if a bright day had been created and extinguished in a
moment, leaving the darkness ten times more oppressive. It was followed
instantaneously by a crash and a prolonged rattle, that sounded as if a
universe of solid worlds were rushing into contact overhead and bursting
into atoms. The flash was so far useful to the fugitives, that it enabled
them to observe a many-stemmed tree with dense and heavy foliage, under
which they darted. They were just in time, and had scarcely seated
themselves among its branches when the rain came down in a way not only
that Martin had never seen, but that he had never conceived of before. It
fell, as it were, in broad heavy sheets, and its sound was a loud,
continuous roar.

The wind soon after burst upon the forest and added to the hideous shriek
of elements. The trees bent before it; the rain was whirled and dashed
about in water-spouts; and huge limbs were rent from some of the larger
trees with a crash like thunder, and swept far away into the forest. The
very earth trembled and seemed terrified at the dreadful conflict going
on above. It seemed to the two friends as if the end of the world were
come; and they could do nothing but cower among the branches of the tree
and watch the storm in silence; while they felt, in a way they had never
before experienced, how utterly helpless they were and unable to foresee
or avert the many dangers by which they were surrounded, and how
absolutely dependent they were on God for protection.

For several hours the storm continued. Then it ceased as suddenly as it
had begun, and the bright stars again shone down upon a peaceful scene.

When it was over, Martin and his comrade descended the tree and
endeavoured to find their way back to the beach. But this was no easy
matter. The haste with which they had run into the woods, and the
confusion of the storm, had made them uncertain in which direction it
lay; and the more they tried to get out, the deeper they penetrated into
the forest. At length, wearied with fruitless wandering and stumbling
about in the dark, they resolved to spend the night where they were.
Coming to a place which was more open than usual, and where they could
see a portion of the starry sky overhead, they sat down on a dry spot
under the shelter of a spreading tree, and, leaning their backs against
the trunk, very soon fell sound asleep.




CHAPTER VIII

AN ENCHANTING LAND--AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED AND A QUEER BREAKFAST--MANY
SURPRISES AND A FEW FRIGHTS, TOGETHER WITH A NOTABLE DISCOVERY


"I've woked in paradise!"

Such was the exclamation that aroused Martin Rattler on the morning after
his landing on the coast of South America. It was uttered by Barney
O'Flannagan, who lay at full length on his back, his head propped up by a
root of the tree under which they had slept, and his eyes staring right
before him with an expression of concentrated amazement. When Martin
opened his eyes, he too was struck dumb with surprise. And well might
they gaze with astonishment; for the last ray of departing daylight on
the night before had flickered over the open sea, and now the first gleam
of returning sunshine revealed to them the magnificent forests of Brazil.

Yes, well might they gaze and gaze again in boundless admiration; for
the tropical sun shone down on a scene of dazzling and luxuriant
vegetation, so resplendent that it seemed to them the realization of a
fairy tale. Plants and shrubs and flowers were there, of the most
curious and brilliant description, and of which they neither knew the
uses nor the names. Majestic trees were there, with foliage of every
shape and size and hue; some with stems twenty feet in circumference;
others more slender in form, straight and tall; and some twisted in a
bunch together and rising upwards like fluted pillars: a few had
buttresses, or natural planks, several feet broad, ranged all round
their trunks, as if to support them; while many bent gracefully beneath
the load of their clustering fruit and heavy foliage. Orange-trees with
their ripe fruit shone in the sunbeams like gold. Stately palms rose
above the surrounding trees and waved their feathery plumes in the air,
and bananas with broad enormous leaves rustled in the breeze and cast a
cool shadow on the ground.

Well might they gaze in great surprise; for all these curious and
beautiful trees were surrounded by and entwined in the embrace of
luxuriant and remarkable climbing plants. The parasitic vanilla with its
star-like blossoms crept up their trunks and along their branches, where
it hung in graceful festoons, or drooped back again almost to the ground.
So rich and numerous were these creepers, that in many cases they killed
the strong giants whom they embraced so lovingly. Some of them hung from
the tree-tops like stays from the masts of a ship, and many of them
mingled their brilliant flowers so closely with the leaves, that the
climbing-plants and their supporters could not be distinguished from each
other, and it seemed as though the trees themselves had become gigantic
flowering shrubs.

Birds, too, were there in myriads,--and such birds! Their feathers were
green and gold and scarlet and yellow and blue--fresh and bright and
brilliant as the sky beneath which they were nurtured. The great toucan,
with a beak nearly as big as his body, flew clumsily from stem to stem.
The tiny, delicate humming-birds, scarce larger than bees, fluttered from
flower to flower and spray to spray, like points of brilliant green. But
they were irritable, passionate little creatures, these lovely things,
and quarrelled with each other and fought like very wasps! Enormous
butterflies, with wings of deep metallic blue, shot past or hovered in
the air like gleams of light; and green paroquets swooped from tree to
tree and chattered joyfully over their morning meal.

Well might they gaze with wonder, and smile too with extreme merriment,
for monkeys stared at them from between the leaves with expressions of
undisguised amazement, and bounded away shrieking and chattering in
consternation, swinging from branch to branch with incredible speed, and
not scrupling to use each other's tails to swing by when occasion
offered. Some were big and red and ugly,--as ugly as you can possibly
imagine, with blue faces and fiercely grinning teeth; others were
delicately formed and sad of countenance, as if they were for ever
bewailing the loss of near and dear relations, and could by no means come
at consolation; and some were small and pretty, with faces no bigger than
a halfpenny. As a general rule, it seemed to Barney, the smaller the
monkey the longer the tail.

Yes, well might they gaze and gaze again in surprise and in excessive
admiration; and well might Barney O'Flannagan--under the circumstances,
with such sights and sounds around him, and the delightful odours of
myrtle trees arid orange blossoms and the Cape jessamine stealing up his
nostrils--deem himself the tenant of another world, and evince his
conviction of the fact in that memorable expression--"I've woked in
paradise!"

But Barney began to find "paradise" not quite so comfortable as it ought
to be; for when he tried to get up he found his bones pained and stiff
from sleeping in damp clothes; and moreover, his face was very much
swelled, owing to the myriads of mosquitoes which had supped of it during
the night.

"Arrah, then, _won't_ ye be done!" he cried, angrily, giving his face a
slap that killed at least two or three hundred of his tormentors. But
thousands more attacked him instantly, and he soon found out,--what every
one finds out sooner or later in hot climates,--that _patience_ is one of
the best remedies for mosquito bites. He also discovered shortly
afterwards that smoke is not a bad remedy, in connection with patience.

"What are we to have for breakfast, Barney?" inquired Martin as he rose
and yawned and stretched his limbs.

"Help yersilf to what ye plase," said Barney, with a polite bow, waving
his hand round him, as if the forest were his private property and Martin
Rattler his honoured guest.

"Well, I vote for oranges," said Martin, going towards a tree which was
laden with ripe fruit.

"An' I'll try plums, by way of variety," added his companion.

In a few minutes several kinds of fruit and nuts were gathered and
spread at the foot of the tree under which they had reposed. Then
Barney proceeded to kindle a fire,--not that he had anything to cook,
but he said it looked sociable-like, and the smoke would keep off the
flies. The operation, however, was by no means easy. Everything had
been soaked by the rain of the previous night, and a bit of dry grass
could scarcely be found. At length he procured a little; and by rubbing
it in the damp gunpowder which he had extracted from his pistol, and
drying it in the sun, he formed a sort of tinder that caught fire after
much persevering effort.

Some of the fruits they found to be good,--others bad. The good they
ate,--the bad they threw away. After their frugal fare they felt much
refreshed, and then began to talk of what they should do.

"We can't live here with parrots and monkeys, you know," said Martin; "we
must try to find a village or town of some sort; or get to the coast, and
then we shall perhaps meet with a ship."

"True, lad," replied Barney, knitting his brows and looking extremely
sagacious; "the fact is, since neither of us knows nothing about
anything, or the way to any place, my advice is to walk straight for'ard
till we come to something."

"So think I," replied Martin; "therefore the sooner we set off the
better."

Having no luggage to pack and no arrangements of any kind to make, the
two friends rose from their primitive breakfast-table, and walked away
straight before them into the forest.

All that day they travelled patiently forward, conversing pleasantly
about the various and wonderful trees, and flowers, and animals they met
with by the way; but no signs were discovered that indicated the presence
of man. Towards evening, however, they fell upon a track or
foot-path,--which discovery rejoiced them much; and here, before
proceeding further, they sat down to eat a little more fruit,--which,
indeed, they had done several times during the day. They walked nearly
thirty miles that day without seeing a human being; but they met with
many strange and beautiful birds and beasts,--some of which were of so
fierce an aspect that they would have been very glad to have had guns to
defend themselves with. Fortunately, however, all the animals seemed to
be much more afraid of them than they were of the animals; so they
travelled in safety. Several times during the course of the day they saw
snakes and serpents, which glided away into the jungle on their approach,
and could not be overtaken, although Barney made repeated darts at them,
intending to attack them with his cutlass; which assaults always proved
fruitless.

Once they were charged by a herd of peccaries,--a species of pig or wild
hog,--from which they escaped by jumping actively to one side; but the
peccaries turned and rushed at them again, and it was only by springing
up the branches of a neighbouring tree that they escaped their fury.
These peccaries are the fiercest and most dauntless animals in the
forests of Brazil. They do not know what fear is,--they will rush in the
face of anything; and, unlike all other animals, are quite indifferent to
the report of fire-arms. Their bodies are covered with long bristles,
resembling very much the quills of the porcupine.

As the evening drew on, the birds and beasts and the innumerable insects,
that had kept up a perpetual noise during the day, retired to rest; and
then the nocturnal animals began to creep out of their holes and go
about. Huge vampire-bats, one of which had given Barney such a fright the
night before, flew silently past them; and the wild howlings commenced
again. They now discovered that one of the most dismal of the howls
proceeded from a species of monkey: at which discovery Martin laughed
very much, and rallied his companion on being so easily frightened; but
Barney gladly joined in the laugh against himself, for, to say truth, he
felt quite relieved and light-hearted at discovering that his ghosts were
converted into bats and monkeys!

There was one roar, however, which, when they heard it ever and anon,
gave them considerable uneasiness.

"D'ye think there's lions in them parts?" inquired Barney, glancing with
an expression of regret at his empty pistol, and laying his hand on the
hilt of his cutlass.

"I think not," replied Martin, in a low tone of voice. "I have read in
my school geography that there are tigers of some sort,--jaguars, or
ounces, I think they are called,--but there are no--"

Martin's speech was cut short by a terrific roar, which rang through the
woods, and the next instant a magnificent jaguar, or South American
tiger, bounded on to the track a few yards in advance, and, wheeling
round, glared fiercely at the travellers. It seemed, in the uncertain
light, as if his eyes were two balls of living fire. Though not so large
as the royal Bengal tiger of India, this animal was nevertheless of
immense size, and had a very ferocious aspect. His roar was so sudden and
awful, and his appearance so unexpected, that the blood was sent
thrilling back into the hearts of the travellers, who stood rooted to the
spot, absolutely unable to move. This was the first large animal of the
cat kind that either of them had seen in all the terrible majesty of its
wild condition; and, for the first time, Martin and his friend felt that
awful sensation of dread that will assail even the bravest heart when a
new species of imminent danger is suddenly presented. It is said that no
animal can withstand the steady gaze of a human eye; and many travellers
in wild countries have proved this to be a fact. On the present occasion
our adventurers stared long and steadily at the wild creature before
them, from a mingled feeling of surprise and horror. In a few seconds the
jaguar showed signs of being disconcerted. It turned its head from side
to side slightly, and dropped its eyes, as if to avoid their gaze. Then
turning slowly and stealthily round, it sprang with a magnificent bound
into the jungle, and disappeared.

Both Martin and Barney heaved a deep sigh of relief.

"What a mercy it did not attack us!" said the former, wiping the cold
perspiration from his forehead. "We should have had no chance against
such a terrible beast with a cutlass, I fear."

"True, boy, true," replied his friend, gravely; "it would have been
little better than a penknife in the ribs o' sich a cratur. I niver
thought that it was in the power o' man or baste to put me in sich a
fright; but the longer we live we learn, boy."

Barney's disposition to make light of everything was thoroughly subdued
by this incident, and he felt none of his usual inclination to regard all
that he saw in the Brazilian forests with a comical eye. The danger they
had escaped was too real and terrible, and their almost unarmed condition
too serious, to be lightly esteemed. For the next hour or two he
continued to walk by Martin's side either in total silence, or in
earnest, grave conversation; but by degrees these feelings wore off, and
his buoyant spirits gradually returned.

The country over which they had passed during the day was of a mingled
character. At one time they traversed a portion of dark forest, heavy and
choked up with the dense and gigantic foliage peculiar to those countries
that lie near to the equator; then they emerged from this upon what to
their eyes seemed most beautiful scenery,--mingled plain and
woodland,--where the excessive brilliancy and beauty of the tropical
vegetation was brought to perfection by exposure to the light of the blue
sky and the warm rays of the sun. In such lovely spots they travelled
more slowly and rested more frequently, enjoying to the full the sight of
the gaily-coloured birds and insects that fluttered busily around them,
and the delicious perfume of the flowers that decked the ground and
clambered up the trees. At other times they came to plains, or _campos_,
as they are termed, where there were no trees at all, and few shrubs, and
where the grass was burned brown and dry by the sun. Over such they
hurried as quickly as they could; and fortunately, where they chanced to
travel, such places were neither numerous nor extensive, although in some
districts of Brazil there are campos hundreds of miles in extent.

A small stream meandered through the forest, and enabled them to refresh
themselves frequently; which was very fortunate, for the heat, especially
towards noon, became extremely intense, and they could not have existed
without water. So great, indeed, was the heat about mid-day, that, by
mutual consent, they resolved to seek the cool shade of a spreading tree,
and try to sleep if possible. At this time they learned, to their
surprise, that all animated nature did likewise, and sought repose at
noon. God had implanted in the breast of every bird and insect in that
mighty forest an instinct which taught it to rest and find refreshment
during the excessive heat of mid-day; so that, during the space of two or
three hours, not a thing with life was seen, and not a sound was heard.
Even the troublesome mosquitoes, so active at all other times, day and
night, were silent now. The change was very great and striking, and
difficult for those who have not observed it to comprehend. All the
forenoon, screams, and cries, and croaks, and grunts, and whistles, ring
out through the woods incessantly; while, if you listen attentively, you
hear the low, deep, and never-ending buzz and hum of millions upon
millions of insects, that dance in the air and creep on every leaf and
blade upon the ground. About noon all this is hushed. The hot rays of the
sun beat perpendicularly down upon what seems a vast untenanted solitude,
and not a single chirp breaks the death-like stillness of the great
forest, with the solitary exception of the metallic note of the uruponga,
or bell-bird, which seems to mount guard when all the rest of the world
has gone to sleep. As the afternoon approaches they all wake up,
refreshed by their siesta, active and lively as fairies, and ready for
another spell of work and another deep-toned noisy chorus.

The country through which our adventurers travelled, as evening
approached, became gradually more hilly, and their march consequently
more toilsome. They were just about to give up all thought of proceeding
further that night, when, on reaching the summit of a little hill, they
beheld a bright red light shining at a considerable distance in the
valley beyond. With light steps and hearts full of hope they descended
the hill and hastened towards it.




CHAPTER IX

THE HERMIT


It was now quite dark, and the whole country seemed alive with
fire-flies. These beautiful little insects sat upon the trees and bushes,
spangling them as with living diamonds, and flew about in the air like
little wandering stars. Barney had seen them before, in the West Indies,
but Martin had only heard of them; and his delight and amazement at their
extreme brilliancy were very great. Although he was naturally anxious to
reach the light in the valley, in the hope that it might prove to proceed
from some cottage, he could not refrain from stopping once or twice to
catch these lovely creatures; and when he succeeded in doing so, and
placed one on the palm of his hand, the light emitted from it was more
brilliant than that of a small taper, and much more beautiful, for it was
of a bluish colour, and very intense,--more like the light reflected from
a jewel than a flame of fire. He could have read a book by means of it
quite easily.

In half an hour they drew near to the light, which they found proceeded
from the window of a small cottage or hut.

"Whist, Martin," whispered Barney, as they approached the hut on tiptoe;
"there may be savages into it, an' there's no sayin' what sort o' craturs
they are in them parts."

When about fifty yards distant, they could see through the open window
into the room where the light burned; and what they beheld there was well
calculated to fill them with surprise. On a rude wooden chair, at a rough
unpainted table, a man was seated, with his head resting on his hand, and
his eyes fixed intently on a book. Owing to the distance, and the few
leaves and branches that intervened between them and the hut, they could
not observe him very distinctly. But it was evident that he was a large
and strong man, a little past the prime of life. The hair of his head and
beard was black and bushy, and streaked with silver-grey. His face was
massive, and of a dark olive complexion, with an expression of sadness on
it, strangely mingled with stern gravity. His broad shoulders--and,
indeed, his whole person--were enveloped in the coarse folds of a long
gown or robe, gathered in at the waist with a broad band of leather.

The room in which he sat--or rather the hut, for there was but one room
in it--was destitute of all furniture, except that already mentioned,
besides one or two roughly-formed stools; but the walls were completely
covered with strange-looking implements and trophies of the chase; and
in a corner lay a confused pile of books, some of which were, from
their appearance, extremely ancient. All this the benighted wanderers
observed as they continued to approach cautiously on tiptoe. So
cautious did they become as they drew near, and came within the light
of the lamp, that Barney at length attempted to step over his own
shadow for fear of making a noise; and, in doing so, tripped and fell
with considerable noise through a hedge of prickly shrubs that
encircled the strange man's dwelling.

The hermit--for such he appeared to be--betrayed no symptom of surprise
or fear at the sudden sound; but, rising quietly though quickly from his
seat, took down a musket that hung on the wall, and, stepping to the open
door, demanded sternly, in the Portuguese language, "Who goes there?"

"Arrah, then, if ye'd help a fellow-cratur to rise, instead o' talkin'
gibberish like that, it would be more to your credit!" exclaimed the
Irishman, as he scrambled to his feet and presented himself, along with
Martin, at the hermit's door.

A peculiar smile lighted up the man's features as he retreated into the
hut, and invited the strangers to enter.

"Come in," said he, in good English, although with a slightly foreign
accent. "I am most happy to see you. You are English. I know the voice
and the language very well. Lived among them once, but long time past
now--very long. Have not seen one of you for many years."

With many such speeches, and much expression of good-will, the hospitable
hermit invited Martin and his companion to sit down at his rude table, on
which he quickly spread several plates of ripe and dried fruits, a few
cakes, and a jar of excellent honey, with a stone bottle of cool water.
When they were busily engaged with these viands, he began to make
inquiries as to where his visitors had come from.

"We've comed from the sae," replied Barney, as he devoted himself to a
magnificent pineapple. "Och but yer victuals is mighty good,
Mister--what's yer name?--'ticklerly to them that's a'most starvin'."

"The fact is," said Martin, "our ship has been taken by pirates, and we
two swam ashore, and lost ourselves in the woods; and now we have
stumbled upon your dwelling, friend, which is a great comfort."

"Hoigh, an' that's true," sighed Barney, as he finished the last slice of
the pineapple.

They now explained to their entertainer all the circumstances attending
the capture of the _Firefly_, and their subsequent adventures and
vicissitudes in the forest; all of which Barney detailed in a most
graphic manner, and to all of which their new friend listened with grave
attention and unbroken silence. When they had concluded he said,--

"Very good. You have seen much in very short time. Perhaps you shall see
more by-and-by. For the present you will go to rest, for you must be
fatigued. I will _think_ to-night,--to-morrow I will _speak_"

"An', if I may make so bould," said Barney, glancing with a somewhat
rueful expression round the hard earthen floor of the hut, "where-abouts
may I take the liberty of sleepin'?"

The hermit replied by going to a corner, whence, from beneath a heap of
rubbish, he dragged two hammocks, curiously wrought in a sort of light
net-work. These he slung across the hut, at one end, from wall to wall,
and, throwing a sheet or coverlet into each, he turned with a smile to
his visitors,--

"Behold your beds! I wish you a very good sleep,--adios!"

So saying, this strange individual sat down at the table, and was soon as
deeply engaged with his large book as if he had suffered no interruption;
while Martin and Barney, having gazed gravely and abstractedly at him for
five minutes, turned and smiled to each other, jumped into their
hammocks, and were soon buried in deep slumber.




CHAPTER X

AN ENEMY IN THE NIGHT--THE VAMPIRE BAT--THE HERMIT DISCOURSES ON STRANGE,
AND CURIOUS, AND INTERESTING THINGS


Next morning Martin Rattler awoke with a feeling of lightness in his
head, and a sensation of extreme weakness pervading his entire frame.
Turning his head round to the right he observed that a third hammock was
slung across the further end of the hut; which was, no doubt, that in
which the hermit had passed the night. But it was empty now. Martin did
not require to turn his head to the other side to see if Barney
O'Flannagan was there, for that worthy individual made his presence
known, for a distance of at least sixty yards all round the outside of
the hut, by means of his nose, which he was in the habit of using as a
trumpet when asleep. It was as well that Martin did not require to look
round; for he found, to his surprise, that he had scarcely strength to do
so. While he was wondering in a dreamy sort of manner what could be the
matter with him, the hermit entered the hut bearing a small deer upon his
shoulders. Resting his gun in a corner of the room, he advanced to
Martin's hammock.

"My boy," he exclaimed, in surprise, "what is wrong with you?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Martin, faintly; "I think there is
something wet about my feet."

Turning up the sheet, he found that Martin's feet were covered with
blood! For a few seconds the hermit growled forth a number of apparently
very pithy sentences in Portuguese, in a deep guttural voice, which
awakened Barney with a start. Springing from his hammock with a bound
like a tiger, he exclaimed, "Och! ye blackguard, would ye murther the boy
before me very nose?" and seizing the hermit in his powerful grasp, he
would infallibly have hurled him, big though he was, through his own
doorway, had not Martin cried out, "Stop, stop, Barney. It's all right;
he's done nothing:" on hearing which the Irishman loosened his hold, and
turned towards his friend.

"What's the matter, honey?" said Barney, in a soothing tone of voice, as
a mother might address her infant son. The hermit, whose composure had
not been in the slightest degree disturbed, here said--

"The poor child has been sucked by a vampire bat."

"Ochone!" groaned Barney, sitting down on the table, and looking at his
host with a face of horror.

"Yes, these are the worst animals in Brazil for sucking the blood of
men and cattle. I find it quite impossible to keep my mules alive, they
are so bad."

Barney groaned.

"They have killed two cows which I tried to keep here, and one young
horse--a foal you call him, I think; and now I have no cattle remaining,
they are so bad."

Barney groaned again, and the hermit went on to enumerate the wicked
deeds of the vampire bats, while he applied poultices of certain herbs to
Martin's toe, in order to check the bleeding, and then bandaged it up;
after which he sat down to relate to his visitors the manner in which the
bat carries on its bloody operations. He explained, first of all, that
the vampire bats are so large and ferocious that they often kill horses
and cattle by sucking their blood out. Of course they cannot do this at
one meal, but they attack the poor animals again and again, and the blood
continues to flow from the wounds they make long afterwards, so that the
creatures attacked soon grow weak and die. They attack men, too,--as
Martin knew to his cost; and they usually fix upon the toes and other
extremities. So gentle are they in their operations, that sleepers
frequently do not feel the puncture, which they make, it is supposed,
with the sharp hooked nail of their thumb; and the unconscious victim
knows nothing of the enemy who has been draining his blood until he
awakens, faint and exhausted, in the morning.

Moreover, the hermit told them that these vampire bats have very sharp,
carnivorous teeth, besides a tongue which is furnished with the curious
organs by which they suck the life-blood of their fellow-creatures; that
they have a peculiar, leaf-like, overhanging lip; and that he had a
stuffed specimen of a bat that measured no less than two feet across the
expanded wings, from tip to tip,

"Och, the blood-thirsty spalpeen!" exclaimed Barney, as he rose and
crossed the room to examine the bat in question, which was nailed against
the wall. "Bad luck to them, they've ruined Martin intirely."

"O no," remarked the hermit with a smile. "It will do the boy much good
the loss of the blood; much good, and he will not be sick at all
to-morrow."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Martin, "for it would be a great bore
to be obliged to lie here when I've so many things to see. In fact I feel
better already, and if you will be so kind as to give me a little
breakfast I shall be quite well,"

While Martin was speaking, the obliging hermit,--who, by the way, was now
habited in a loose short hunting-coat of brown cotton,--spread a
plentiful repast upon his table; to which, having assisted Martin to get
out of his hammock, they all proceeded to do ample justice: for the
travellers were very hungry after the fatigue of the previous day; and as
for the hermit, he looked like a man whose appetite was always sharp set
and whose food agreed with him.

They had cold meat of several kinds, and a hot steak of venison just
killed that morning, which the hermit cooked while his guests were
engaged with the other viands. There was also excellent coffee, and
superb cream, besides cakes made of a species of coarse flour or meal,
fruits of various kinds, arid very fine honey.

"Arrah! ye've the hoith o' livin' here!" cried Barney, smacking his lips
as he held out his plate for another supply of a species of meat which
resembled chicken in tenderness and flavour. "What sort o' bird or baste
may that be, now, av' I may ask ye, Mister--what's yer name?"

"My name is Carlos," replied the hermit, gravely; "and this is the flesh
of the Armadillo."

"Arma--what--o?" inquired Barney.

"Arma_dillo_," repeated the hermit. "He is very good to eat, but very
difficult to catch. He digs down so fast we cannot catch him, and must
smoke him out of his hole."

"Have you many cows?" inquired Martin, as he replenished his cup
with coffee.

"Cows?" echoed the hermit, "I have got no cows."

"Where do you get such capital cream, then?" asked Martin in surprise.

The hermit smiled. "Ah! my friends, that cream has come from a very
curious cow. It is from a cow that grows in the ground."

"Grows!" ejaculated his guests.

"Yes, he grows. I will show him to you one day."

The hermit's broad shoulders shook with a quiet internal laugh. "I will
explain a little of that you behold on my table.

"The coffee I get from the trees. There are plenty of them here. Much
money is made in Brazil by the export of coffee,--very much. The cakes
are made from the mandioca-root, which I grow near my house. The root is
dried and ground into flour, which, under the general _name farina_, is
used all over the country. It is almost the only food used by the Indians
and Negroes."

"Then there are Injins and Niggers here, are there?" inquired Barney.

"Yes, a great many. Most of the Negroes are slaves; some of the Indians
too; and the people who are descended from the Portuguese who came and
took the country long ago, they are the masters.--Well, the honey I get
in holes in the trees. There are different kinds of honey here; some of
it is _sour_ honey. And the fruits and roots, the plantains, and
bananas, and yams, and cocoa-nuts, and oranges, and plums, all grow in
the forest, and much more besides, which you will see for yourselves if
you stay long here."

"It's a quare country, intirely," remarked Barney, as he wiped his mouth
and heaved a sigh of contentment. Then, drawing his hand over his chin,
he looked earnestly in the hermit's face, and, with a peculiar twinkle in
his eye, said--

"I s'pose ye couldn't favour me with the lind of a raazor, could ye?"

"No, my friend; I never use that foolish weapon."

"Ah, well, as there's only monkeys and jaguars, and sich like to see me,
it don't much signify; but my mustaches is gitin' mighty long, for I've
been two weeks already without a shave."

Martin laughed heartily at the grave, anxious expression of his
comrade's face. "Never mind, Barney," he said, "a beard and moustache
will improve you vastly. Besides, they will be a great protection
against mosquitoes; for you are such a hairy monster, that when they
grow nothing of your face will be exposed except your eyes and
cheek-bones. And now," continued Martin, climbing into his hammock again
and addressing the hermit, "since you won't allow me to go out a-hunting
to-day, I would like very much if you would tell me something more about
this strange country."

"An' may be," suggested Barney, modestly, "ye won't object to tell us
something about yersilf,--how you came for to live in this quare,
solitary kind of a way."

The hermit looked gravely from one to the other, and stroked his beard.
Drawing his rude chair towards the door of the hut, he folded his arms,
and crossed his legs, and gazed dreamily forth upon the rich landscape.
Then, glancing again at his guests, he said, slowly: "Yes, I will do what
you ask,--I will tell you my story."

"An', if I might make so bould as to inquire," said Barney, with a
deprecatory smile, while he drew a short black pipe from his pocket,
"have ye got such a thing as 'baccy in them parts?"

The hermit rose, and going to a small box which stood in a corner,
returned with a quantity of cut tobacco in one hand, and a cigar not far
short of a foot long in the other! In a few seconds the cigar was going
in full force, like a factory chimney; and the short black pipe glowed
like a miniature furnace, while its owner seated himself on a low stool,
crossed his arms on his breast, leaned his back against the door-post,
and smiled,--as only an Irishman can smile under such circumstances. The
smoke soon formed a thick cloud, which effectually drove the mosquitoes
out of the hut, and through which Martin, lying in his hammock, gazed out
upon the sunlit orange and coffee trees, and tall palms with their rich
festoons of creeping plants, and sweet-scented flowers, that clambered
over and round the hut and peeped in at the open door and windows, while
he listened to the hermit, who continued for at least ten minutes to
murmur slowly, between the puffs of his cigar, "Yes, I will do it; I will
tell you my story."




CHAPTER XI

THE HERMIT'S STORY


"My ancestors," began the hermit, "were among the first to land upon
Brazil, after the country was taken possession of in the name of the King
of Portugal, in the year 1500. In the first year of the century, Vincent
Yanez Pinçon, a companion of the famed Columbus, discovered Brazil; and
in the next year, Pedro Alvarez Cabral, a Portuguese commander, took
possession of it in the name of the King of Portugal. In 1503, Americus
Vespucius discovered the Bay of All Saints, and took home a cargo of
Brazil-wood, monkeys and parrots; but no permanent settlement was
effected upon the shores of the new continent, and the rich treasures of
this great country remained for some years longer buried and unknown to
man,--for the wild Indians who lived here knew not their value.

"It was on a dark and stormy night in the year 1510. A group of swarthy
and naked savages encircled a small fire on the edge of the forest on the
east coast of Brazil. The spot where their watchfire was kindled is now
covered by the flourishing city of Bahia. At that time it was a
wilderness. Before them stretched the noble bay which is now termed
_Bahia de Todos Santos,_--All Saints' Bay.

"The savages talked earnestly and with excited looks as they stood upon
the shore, for the memory of the wondrous ships of the white men that
had visited them a few years before was deeply engraven on their minds;
and now, in the midst of the howling storm, another ship was seen
approaching their land. It was a small vessel, shattered and
tempest-tossed, that drove into the Bahia de Todos Santos on that stormy
night. Long had it battled with the waves of the Atlantic, and the brave
hearts that manned it had remained stanch to duty and strong in hope,
remembering the recent glorious example of Columbus. But the storm was
fierce and the bark was frail. The top-masts were broken and the sails
rent; and worst of all, just as land hove in sight and cheered the
drooping spirits of the crew, a tremendous wave dashed upon the ship's
stern and carried away the rudder.

"As they drove helplessly before the gale towards the shore, the naked
savages crowded down upon the beach and gazed in awe and astonishment at
the mysterious ship. A few of them had seen the vessels of Americus
Vespucius and Cabral. The rumour of the white men and their floating
castle had been wafted far and wide along the coast and into the interior
of Brazil, and with breathless wonder the natives had listened to the
strange account. But now the vision was before them in reality. On came
the floating castle, the white foam dashing from her bows and the torn
sails and ropes flying from her masts as she surged over the billows and
loomed through the driving spray.

"It was a grand sight to see that ship dashing straight towards the shore
at fearful speed; and those who looked on seemed to be impressed with a
vague feeling that she had power to spring upon the strand and continue
her swift career through the forest, as she had hitherto cleft her
passage through the sea. As she approached, the savages shrank back in
fear. Suddenly her frame trembled with a mighty shock. A terrible cry was
borne to land by the gale, and all her masts went overboard. A huge wave
lifted the vessel on its crest and flung her further on the shore, where
she remained firmly fixed, while the waves dashed in foam around her and
soon began to break her up. Ere this happened, however, a rope was thrown
ashore and fastened to a rock by the natives. By means of this the crew
were saved. But it would have been well for these bold navigators of
Portugal if they had perished in the stormy sea, for they were spared by
the ocean only to be murdered by the wild savages on whose shore they had
been cast.

"All were slain save one,--Diego Alvarez Carreo, the captain of the ship.
Before grasping the rope by which he reached the shore, he thrust several
cartridges into his bosom and caught up a loaded musket. Wrapping the
lock in several folds of cloth to keep it dry, he slid along the rope and
gained the beach in safety. Here he was seized by the natives, and would
no doubt have been barbarously slain with his unfortunate companions;
but, being a very powerful man, he dashed aside the foremost, and,
breaking through their ranks, rushed towards the wood. The fleet savages,
however, overtook him in an instant, and were about to seize him when a
young Indian woman interposed between them and their victim. This girl
was the chiefs daughter, and respect for her rank induced them to
hesitate for a moment; but in another instant the Portuguese captain was
surrounded. In the scuffle that ensued his musket exploded, but
fortunately wounded no one. Instantly the horrified savages fled in all
directions leaving Carreo alone!

"The captain was quick-witted. He knew that among hundreds of savages it
was madness to attempt either to fight or fly, and the happy effect of
the musket explosion induced him to adopt another course of action. He
drew himself up proudly to his full height, and beckoned the savages to
return. This they did, casting many glances of fear at the dreaded
musket. Going up to one who, from his bearing and ornaments, seemed to be
a chief, Carreo laid his musket on the sand, and, stepping over it so
that he left it behind him, held out his hand frankly to the chief. The
savage looked at him in surprise, and suffered the captain to take his
hand and pat it; after which he began to examine the stranger's dress
with much curiosity. Seeing that their chief was friendly to the white
man, the other savages hurried him to the campfire, where he soon
stripped off his wet clothes and ate the food which they put before him.
Thus Diego Carreo was spared.

"Next day, the Indians lined the beach and collected the stores of the
wrecked vessel. While thus employed, Carreo shot a gull with his musket;
which so astonished the natives that they regarded him with fear and
respect amounting almost to veneration. A considerable quantity of powder
and shot was saved from the wreck, so that the captain was enabled to
keep his ascendency over the ignorant natives; and at length he became a
man of great importance in the tribe, and married the daughter of the
chief. He went by the name of _Caramuru_,--'The man of fire.' This man
founded the city of Bahia.

"The coasts of Brazil began soon after this to be settled in various
places by the Portuguese; who, however, were much annoyed by the
Spaniards, who claimed a share in the rich prize. The Dutch and English
also formed settlements; but the Portuguese still retained possession of
the country, and continued to prosper. Meanwhile Diego Caramuru, 'the man
of fire,' had a son who in course of time became a prosperous settler;
and as his sons grew up he trained them to become cultivators of the soil
and traders in the valuable products of the New World. He took a piece of
ground, far removed from the spot where his father had been cast ashore,
and a short distance in the interior of the country. Here the eldest sons
of the family dwelt, laboured, and died, for many generations.

"In the year 1808 Portugal was invaded by Napoleon Buonaparte, and the
sovereign of that kingdom, John VI., fled to Brazil, accompanied by his
court and a large body of emigrants. The king was warmly received by the
Brazilians, and immediately set about improving the condition of the
country. He threw open its ports to all nations; freed the land from all
marks of colonial dependence; established newspapers; made the press
free, and did everything to promote education and industry. But although
much was done, the good was greatly hindered, especially in the inland
districts, by the vice, ignorance, and stupidity of many of the Roman
Catholic priests, who totally neglected their duties,--which, indeed,
they were incompetent to perform,--and in many instances, were no better
than miscreants in disguise, teaching the people vice instead of virtue.

"Foremost among the priests who opposed advancement was a descendant of
the 'man of fire,' Padre Caramuru dwelt for some years with an English
merchant in the capital of Brazil, Rio de Janeiro. The padre was not an
immoral man, but he was a fiery bigot, and fiercely opposed everything
that tended to advance the education of the people. This he did, firmly
believing that education was dangerous to the lower orders. His church
taught him, too, that the Bible was a dangerous book; and whenever a copy
fell into his hands he immediately destroyed it. During the disturbances
that took place after the time of King John's departure for Portugal, and
just before Brazil became an independent state under his son, the Emperor
Don Pedro I., Padre Caramuru lost a beloved and only brother. He was
quite a youth, and had joined the army only a few months previously, at
the desire of his elder brother the padre, who was so overwhelmed by the
blow that he ceased to take an active part in church or political affairs
and buried himself in a retired part of his native valley. Here he sought
relief and comfort in the study of the beauties of Nature by which he was
surrounded, but found none. Then he turned his mind to the doctrines of
his church, and took pleasure in verifying them from the Bible. But as he
proceeded he found, to his great surprise, that these doctrines were,
many of them, not to be found there; nay, further, that some of them were
absolutely contradicted by the word of God.

"Padre Caramuru had been in the habit of commanding his people not to
listen to the Bible when any one offered to read it; but in the Bible
itself he found these words, 'Search the Scriptures.' He had been in the
habit of praying to the Virgin Mary, and begging her to intercede with
God for him; but in the Bible he found these words: 'There is one
mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.' These things
perplexed him much. But while he was thus searching, as it were, for
silver, the ignorant padre found gold! He found that he did not require
to _work_ for salvation, but to _ask_ for it. He discovered that the
atonement had been made once for all by Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God;
and he read with a thrilling heart these words: 'God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.'

"Long and earnestly did the padre ponder these words and pray over them;
and gradually the Holy Spirit enlightened his mind, and he saw how
hateful that system was which could forbid or discourage the reading of
the blessed word of God. He soon resolved to forsake the priesthood. But
when he had done so, he knew not what to turn his hand to. He had no one
like-minded to consult with, and he felt that it was wrong to eat the
bread of idleness. Being thus uncertain what to do, he resolved in the
meantime to carry goods into the interior of the country, and offer them
for sale. The land round his dwelling and his own gun would supply him
with food; and for the rest, he would spend his time in the study of the
Bible, and seek for more light and direction from God.

"Such," continued the hermit, "is a slight sketch of the history of my
country and of myself."

"Yourself?" exclaimed Martin.

"Yes. I am the Padre Caramuru, or rather I _was_. I am Padre no longer,
but Senhor Carlos Caramuru, a merchant. Yet I know not what to do. When I
look round upon my country, and see how they know not the precious word
of God, my heart burns in me, and I sometimes think that it is my duty to
go forth and preach."

"No doubt ye are right," said Barney. "I've always bin of opinion that
when a man feels very strong in his heart on any partic'lar subject, it's
a sure sign that the Almighty intends him to have something more to do
with that subject than other men who don't feel about it at all."

The hermit remained silent for a few minutes. "I think you are right,
friend," he said; "but I am very ignorant yet. I have no one to explain
difficulties to me; and I fear to go about preaching, lest I should
preach what is not true. I will study yet for a time, and pray. After
that, perhaps, I may go forth."

"But you have told us nothing yet about the trade of the country," said
Martin, "or its size, or anything of that sort."

"I will soon tell you of that when I have lighted another cigar. This one
does not draw well. Have you got a full pipe still, my friend?"

"All right, Mr. Carrymooroo," replied Barney, knocking out the ashes.
"I'll jist load wance more, and then,--fire away."

In a few minutes the big cigar and short pipe were in full play, and the
hermit continued:--

"This country is very large and very rich, but it is not well worked. The
people are lazy, many of them, and have not much enterprise. Much is
done, no doubt; but very much more _might_ be done.

"The empire of Brazil occupies nearly one-half of the whole continent of
South America. It is 2600 miles long, and 2500 miles broad; which, as you
know perhaps, is a little larger than all Europe. The surface of the
country is beautiful and varied. The hilly regions are very wild,
although none of the mountains are very high, and the woods are
magnificent; but a great part of the land consists of vast grassy plains,
which are called llanos, or campos, or silvas. The campos along the banks
of the River Amazon are equal to six times the size of France; and there
is one great plain which lies between the Sierra Ibiapaba and the River
Tocantins which is 600 miles long by 400 miles broad. There are very few
lakes in Brazil, and only one worth speaking of--the Lagoa dos
Platos--which is 150 miles long. But our rivers are the finest in the
whole world, being so long, and wide, and deep, and free from falls, that
they afford splendid communication with the interior of the land. But,
alas! there are few ships on these rivers yet, very few. The rivers in
the north part of Brazil are so numerous and interlaced that they are
much like the veins in the human body; and the great River Amazon and a
few of its chief tributaries resemble the arteries.

"Then as to our produce," continued the hermit, "who can tell it all? We
export sugar, and coffee, and cotton, and gold, silver, lead, zinc,
quicksilver, and amethysts, and we have diamond mines--"

"Di'mond mines!" echoed Barney; "och but I would like for to see them.
Sure they would sparkle most beautiful. Are they far off, Mr.
Carrymooroo?"

"Yes, very far off. Then we export dye-woods, and cabinet-woods, and
drugs, and gums, and hides,--a great many hides, for the campos are full
of wild cattle, and men hunt them on horseback, and catch them with a
long rope called the _lasso_."

"How I should like to have a gallop over these great plains,"
murmured Martin.

"Then we have," continued the hermit, "rice, tapioca, cocoa, maize,
wheat, mandioca, beans, bananas, pepper, cinnamon, oranges, figs, ginger,
pineapples, yams, lemons, mangoes, and many other fruits and vegetables.
The mandioca you have eaten in the shape of farina. It is very good food;
one acre gives as much nutriment as six acres of wheat.

"Of the trees you have seen something. There are thousands of kinds, and
most magnificent. Some of them are more than thirty feet round about.
There are two hundred different kinds of palms, and so thick stand the
giant trees in many places, with creeping plants growing between, that it
is not possible for man to cut his way through the forests in some parts.
Language cannot describe the grandeur and glory of the Brazilian forests.

"We have numbers of wild horses, and hogs, and goats; and in the woods
are tiger-cats, jaguars, tapirs, hyenas, sloths, porcupines, and--but you
have seen many things already. If you live you will see more. I need not
tell you of these things; very soon I will show you some.

"The population of my country consists of the descendants of Portuguese
settlers, native Indians, and Negroes. Of the latter, some are free, some
slaves. The Indians go about nearly naked. Most of them are in a savage
state: they paint their skins, and wear gaudy ornaments. The religion of
the country is Roman Catholic, but all religions are tolerated; and I
have much hope for the future of Brazil, in spite of the priests."

"And do ye git much out o' the di'mond mines?" inquired Barney, whose
mind was running on this subject.

"O yes, a great deal. Every year many are got, and Government gets
one-fifth of the value of all the gold and diamonds found in the country.
One diamond was found a short time ago which was worth £40,000."

"Ye don't say so!" exclaimed Barney in great surprise, as he blew an
immense cloud of smoke from his lips. "Now, that's extror'nary. Why don't
everybody go to the mines and dig up their fortin at wance?"

"Because men cannot _eat_ diamonds," replied the hermit gravely.

"Troth, I niver thought o' that; ye're right."

Martin laughed heartily as he lay in his hammock and watched his friend's
expression while pondering this weighty subject.

"Moreover," resumed the hermit, "you will be surprised to hear that
diamond and gold finding is not the most profitable employment in
this country.

"The man who cultivates the ground is better off than anybody. It is a
fact, a very great fact, a fact that you should get firmly fixed in your
memory--that in less than _two years_ the exports of sugar and coffee
amounted to more than the value of all the diamonds found in _eighty_
years. Yes, that is true. But the people of Brazil are not well off. They
have everything that is necessary to make a great nation; but we are not
a great nation, far from it." The hermit sighed deeply as he ceased
speaking, and fell into an abstracted frame of mind.

"It's a great country intirely," said Barney, knocking the ashes out of
his pipe, and placing that much-loved implement carefully in his pocket;
"a great country, but there's a tremendous big screw loose somewhere."

"It seems curious to me," said Martin, in a ruminating tone of voice,
"that people should not get on better in a country in which there is
everything that man can desire to make him rich and happy. I wonder what
it wants; perhaps it's too hot, and the people want energy of character."

"Want energy!" shouted the hermit, leaping from his seat, and regarding
his guests for a few moments with a stern expression of countenance;
then, stretching forth his hand, he continued, in an excited tone:
"Brazil does not want energy; it has only one want,--it wants the Bible!
When a country is sunk down in superstition and ignorance and moral
depravity, so that the people know not right from wrong, there is only
one cure for her,--the Bible. Religion here is a mockery and a shame;
such as, if it were better known, would make the heathen laugh in scorn.
The priests are a curse to the land, not a blessing. Perhaps they are
better in other lands,--I know not; but well I know they are many of
them false and wicked here. No truth is taught to the people,--no Bible
is read in their ears; religion is not taught,--even morality is not
taught; men follow the devices and desires of their own hearts, and
there is no voice raised to say, 'You are doing wrong.' My country is
sunk very low; and she cannot hope to rise, for the word of her Maker is
not in her hand. True, there are a few, a very few Bibles in the great
cities; but that is all: that cannot save her hundreds of towns and
villages. Thousands of her people are slaves in body,--all, all are
slaves in soul; and yet you ask me what she wants. Ha! she wants
_truth_,--she wants to be purged of falsehood. She has bones and
muscles, and arteries and veins,--everything to make a strong and
healthy nation; but she wants blood,--she has no vital stream; yes,
Brazil, my country, wants the Bible!"




CHAPTER XII

A HUNTING EXPEDITION, IN WHICH ARE SEEN STONES THAT CAN RUN, AND COWS
THAT REQUIRE NO FOOD--BESIDES A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A JAGUAR, AND
OTHER STRANGE THINGS


For many weeks Martin Rattler and his friend Barney O'Flannagan continued
to dwell with the hermit in his forest-home, enjoying his entertaining
and instructive discourse, and joining with him in the hunting
expeditions which he undertook for the purpose of procuring fresh food
for his table. In these rambles they made constant discoveries of
something new and surprising, both in reference to the vegetables and
animals of that extraordinary region of the earth. They also had many
adventures,--some amusing and some terrible,--which we cannot enlarge on
here, for they would fill ten volumes such as this, were they to be all
recorded in detail.

One day the hermit roused them earlier than usual and told them to get
ready, as he intended to go a considerable distance that day, and he
wished to reach a particular spot before the heat of noon. So Martin and
Barney despatched breakfast in as short a time as possible, and the
hermit read them a chapter out of his large and well-thumbed Bible, after
which they equipped themselves for the chase.

When Martin and his friend escaped from the pirates and landed on the
coast of Brazil, they were clothed in sailor-like costume, namely, white
duck trousers, coloured flannel shirts, blue jackets, round straw hats,
and strong shoes. This costume was not very suitable for the warm climate
in which they now found themselves, so their hospitable friend the hermit
gave them two loose light cotton coats or jackets, of a blue colour, and
broad brimmed straw hats similar to his own. He also gave them two
curious garments called _ponchos_. The poncho serves the purpose of cloak
and blanket. It is simply a square dark-coloured blanket with a hole in
the middle of it, through which the head is thrust in rainy weather, and
the garment hangs down all round. At night the poncho is useful as a
covering. The hermit wore a loose open hunting coat, and underneath it a
girdle, in which was a long sharp knife and a brace of pistols. His
trousers were of blue-striped cotton. He usually carried a
double-barrelled gun over his shoulder, and a powder-horn and bullet-bag
were slung round his neck. Barney now procured from this hospitable man a
supply of powder and shot for his large brass-mounted cavalry pistol. The
hermit also made him a present of a long hunting-knife; and he gave one
of a smaller size to Martin. As Martin had no weapon, the hermit
manufactured for him a stout bow and quiver full of arrows; with which,
after some practice, he became reasonably expert.

Thus armed they sallied forth, and, following the foot-path that
conducted from the door of the hut to the brow of the hill opposite, they
were soon buried in the shades of the great forest. On this particular
morning Barney observed that the hermit carried with him a stout spear,
which he was not usually in the habit of doing. Being of an inquisitive
disposition, he inquired the reason of his taking it.

"I expect to find a jaguar to-day," answered the hermit. "I saw him
yesterday go down into the small valley in which my cows grow. I will
show you my cows soon, Martin."

The hermit stopped short suddenly as he spoke, and pointed to a large
bird, about fifty yards in advance of them. It seemed to bear a
particular ill-will to a round rough stone which it pecked most
energetically. After a few minutes the bird ceased its attacks and flew
off; whereupon the rough stone opened itself out, and, running quickly
away, burrowed into a little hole and disappeared!

"That is an armadillo," remarked the hermit, continuing to lead the way
through the woods; "it is covered with a coat of mail, as you see; and
when enemies come it rolls itself up like a ball and lies like a hard
stone till they go away. But it has four little legs, and with them it
burrows so quickly that we cannot dig it up, and must smoke it out of
its hole,--which I do often, because it is very good to eat, as you very
well know."

While they continued thus to walk through the woods conversing, Martin
and Barney were again interested and amused by the immense number of
brilliant parrots and toucans which swooped about, chattering from tree
to tree, in large flocks. Sometimes thirty or forty of the latter would
come screaming through the woods and settle upon the dark-green foliage
of a coffee-tree; the effect of which was to give the tree the appearance
of having been suddenly loaded with ripe golden fruit. Then the birds
would catch sight of the travellers and fly screaming away, leaving the
tree dark-green and fruitless as before. The little green parrots were
the most outrageously noisy things that ever lived. Not content with
screaming when they flew, they continued to shriek, apparently with
delight, while they devoured the seeds of the gorgeous sun-flowers: and
more than once Martin was prompted to scatter a handful of stones among
them, as a hint to be less noisy; but this only made them worse,--like a
bad baby, which, the more you tell it to be quiet, sets to work the more
earnestly to increase and add to the vigour of its roaring. So Martin
wisely let the parrots alone. They also startled, in passing through
swampy places, several large blue herons, and long-legged cranes; and on
many of the trees they observed the curious hanging nests of a bird,
which the hermit told them was the large oriole. These nests hung in long
strings from the tops of the palm-trees, and the birds were very actively
employed moving about and chattering round their swinging villages: on
seeing which Martin could not help remarking that it would astonish the
colony not a little, if the top house were to give way and let all the
mansions below come tumbling to the ground!

They were disappointed, however, in not seeing monkeys gambolling among
the trees, as they had expected.

"Ah! my friends," said the hermit, "travellers in my country are very
often disappointed. They come here expecting to see everything all at
once; but although there are jaguars, and serpents, and bears, and
monkeys, plenty of them, as your ears can tell you, these creatures keep
out of the sight of man as much as possible. They won't come out of the
woods and show themselves to please travellers! You have been very lucky
since you arrived. Many travellers go about for months together and do
not see half so much as you."

"That's thrue," observed Barney, with his head a little on one side, and
his eyes cast up in a sort of meditative frown, as if he were engaged in
subjecting the hermit's remarks to a process of severe philosophical
contemplation; "but I would be very well plazed av the wild bastes would
show themselves now and then, for--"

Martin Rattler burst into a loud laugh, for Barney's upward glance of
contemplation was suddenly transformed into a gaze of intense
astonishment, as he beheld the blue countenance of a large red monkey
staring down upon him from amid the branches of an overhanging tree. The
monkey's face expressed, if possible, greater surprise than that of the
Irishman, and its mouth was partially open and thrust forward in a sort
of threatening and inquiring manner. There seemed to be some bond of
sympathy between the monkey and the man, for while _its_ mouth opened
_his_ mouth opened too.

"A-a-a-a-a--ah!" exclaimed the monkey.

A facetious smile overspread Barney's face--"Och! be all manes; the same
to you, kindly," said he, taking off his hat and making a low bow.

The civility did not seem to be appreciated, however; for the monkey put
on a most indignant frown and displayed a terrific double-row of long
brilliant teeth and red gums, while it uttered a shriek of passion,
twisted its long tail round a branch, and hurled itself, with a motion
more like that of a bird than a beast, into the midst of the tree and
disappeared, leaving Martin and Barney and the hermit each with a very
broad grin on his countenance.

The hunters now arrived at an open space where there were several large
umbrageous trees, and as it was approaching mid-day they resolved to rest
here for a couple of hours. Birds and insects were gradually becoming
more and more silent, and soon afterwards the only sounds that broke upon
their ears were the curious metallic notes of the urupongas, or
bell-birds; which were so like to the rapid beating of a smith's hammer
on an anvil, that it was with the greatest difficulty Barney was
restrained from going off by himself in search of the "smiddy." Indeed he
began to suspect that the worthy hermit was deceiving him, and was only
fully convinced at last when he saw one of the birds. It was pure white,
about the size of a thrush, and had a curious horn or fleshy tubercle
upon its head.

Having rested and refreshed themselves, they resumed their journey a
short time before the noisy inhabitants of the woods recommenced their
active afternoon operations.

"Hallo! what's that?" cried Barney, starting back and drawing his pistol,
while Martin hastily fitted an arrow to his bow.

Not ten paces in front of them a frightful monster ran across their path,
which seemed so hideous to Martin that his mind instantly reverted to the
fable of St. George and the Dragon, and he almost expected to see fire
issuing from its mouth. It was a huge lizard, with a body about three
feet long, covered with bright scales. It had a long, thick tail. Its
head was clumsy and misshapen, and altogether its aspect was very
horrible. Before either Martin or Barney could fire, the hermit dropped
his gun and spear, sprang quickly forward, caught the animal by the tail,
and, putting forth his great strength to the utmost, swung it round his
head and dashed its brains out against a tree.

Barney and Martin could only stare with amazement.

"This we call an iguana," said the hermit, as he piled a number of heavy
stones on the carcase to preserve it from other animals. "It is very good
to eat,--as good as chicken. This is not a very big one; they are
sometimes five feet long, but almost quite harmless,--not venomous at
all; and the only means he has to defend himself is the tail, which is
very powerful, and gives a tremendously hard blow; but, as you see, if
you catch him quick he can do nothing."

"It's all very well for you, or even Barney here, to talk of catching him
by the tail," said Martin, smiling; "but it would have puzzled me to
swing that fellow round my head."

"Arrah! ye're right, boy; I doubt if I could have done it mesilf,"
said Barney.

"No fear," said the hermit, patting Martin's broad shoulders as he passed
him and led the way; "you will be strong enough for that very soon,--as
strong as me in a year or two."

They now proceeded down into a somewhat dark and closely wooded valley,
through which meandered a small rivulet. Here they had some difficulty in
forcing their way through the dense underwood and broad leaves, most of
which seemed very strange to Martin and his comrade, being so gigantic.
There were also many kinds of ferns, which sometimes arched over their
heads and completely shut out the view, while some of them crept up the
trees like climbing-plants. Emerging from this, they came upon a more
open space, in the midst of which grew a number of majestic trees.

"There are my cows!" said the hermit, pausing as he spoke, and pointing
towards a group of tall straight-stemmed trees that were the noblest in
appearance they had yet seen. "Good cows they are," he continued, going
up to one and making a notch in the bark with his axe: "they need no
feeding or looking after, yet, as you see, they are always ready to give
me cream."

While he spoke, a thick white liquid flowed from the notch in the bark
into a cocoa-nut drinking-cup, which the hermit always carried at his
girdle. In a few minutes he presented his visitors with a draught of what
they declared was most excellent cream.

The masseranduba, or milk-tree, as it is called, is indeed one of the
most wonderful of all the extraordinary trees in the forests of Brazil,
and is one among many instances of the bountiful manner in which God
provides for the wants of His creatures. No doubt this might with equal
truth be said of all the gifts that a beneficent Creator bestows upon
mankind; but when, as in the case of this milk-tree, the provision for
our wants comes in a singular and striking manner, it seems fitting and
appropriate that we should specially acknowledge the gift as coming from
the hand of Him who giveth us all things liberally to enjoy.

The milk-tree rises with a straight stem to an enormous height, and the
fruit, about the size of a small apple, is full of rich and juicy pulp,
and is very good. The timber, also, is hard, fine-grained, and
durable,--particularly adapted for such works as are exposed to the
weather. But its most remarkable peculiarity is the rich vegetable milk
which flows in abundance from it when the bark is cut. This milk is so
like to that of the cow in taste, that it can scarcely be distinguished
from it, having only a very slight peculiarity of flavour, which is
rather agreeable than otherwise. In tea and coffee it has the same effect
as rich cream, and, indeed, is so thick that it requires to be diluted
with water before being used. This milk is also employed as glue. It
hardens when exposed to the air, and becomes very tough and slightly
elastic, and is said to be quite as good and useful as ordinary glue.

Having partaken of as much milk as they desired, they continued their
journey a little further, when they came to a spur of the sierra, or
mountain range, that cuts through that part of the country. Here the
ground became more rugged, but still densely covered with wood, and rocks
lay piled about in many places, forming several dark and gloomy caverns.
The hermit now unslung his gun and advanced to the foot of a cliff, near
the further end of which there were several caves, the mouths of which
were partially closed with long ferns and masses of luxuriant vegetation.

"Now we must be prepared," said the hermit, feeling the point of his
spear. "I think there is a jaguar here. I saw him yesterday, and I am
quite sure he will not go away till he tries to do some mischief. He
little knows that there is nothing here to hurt but me." The hermit
chuckled as he said this, and resting his gun against the cliff near the
entrance to the first cave, which was a small one, he passed on to the
next. Holding the spear in his left hand, he threw a stone violently into
the cavern. Barney and Martin listened and gazed in silent expectation;
but they only heard the hollow sound of the falling stone as it dashed
against the sides of the cave; then all was still.

"Och, then, he's off," cried Barney.

"Hush," said Martin; "don't speak till he has tried the other cave."

Without taking notice of their remarks, the hermit repeated the
experiment at the mouths of two caverns further on, with the like result.

"Maybe the spalpeen's hidin' in the little cave where ye laid down yer
gun," suggested Barney, going towards the place as he spoke. "Och, then,
come here, friend; sure it must be the mouth of a mine, for there's two
o' the beautifulest di'monds I iver--"

Barney's speech was cut short by a low peculiar sound, that seemed like
the muttering of far-distant thunder. At the same moment the hermit
pulled him violently back, and, placing himself in a firm attitude full
in front of the cavern, held the point of the spear advanced before him.

"Martin," he whispered, "shoot an arrow straight into that hole,--quick!"

Martin obeyed, and the arrow whizzed through the aperture. Instantly
there issued from it a savage and tremendous roar, so awful that it
seemed as if the very mountain were bellowing and that the cavern were
its mouth. But not a muscle of the hermit's figure moved. He stood like a
bronze statue,--his head thrown back and his chest advanced, with one
foot planted firmly before him and the spear pointing towards the cave.
It seemed strange to Martin that a man should face what appeared to him
unknown danger so boldly and calmly; but he did not consider that the
hermit knew exactly the amount of danger before him. He knew precisely
the manner in which it would assail him, and he knew just what was
necessary to be done in order to avert it; and in the strength of that
knowledge he stood unmoved, with a slight smile upon his tightly
compressed lips.

Scarcely had the roar ceased when it was repeated with tenfold
fierceness; the bushes and fern leaves shook violently, and an enormous
and beautifully spotted jaguar shot through the air as if it had been
discharged from a cannon's mouth. The hermit's eye wavered not; he bent
forward a hair's-breadth; the glittering spear-point touched the animal's
breast, pierced through it, and came out at its side below the ribs. But
the force of the bound was too great for the strength of the weapon: the
handle snapped in twain, and the transfixed jaguar struck down the hermit
and fell writhing upon him!

In the excitement of the moment Barney drew his pistol from his belt and
snapped it at the animal. It was well for the hermit at that moment that
Barney had forgotten to prime his weapon; for, although he aimed at the
jaguar's skull, there is no doubt whatever that he would have blown out
the hermit's brains. Before he could make a second attempt, Martin sprang
towards the gun which leaned against the cliff, and, running quickly up,
he placed the muzzle close to the jaguar's ear and lodged a bullet in its
brain. All this was done in a few seconds, and the hermit regained his
legs just as the animal fell dead. Fortunately he was not hurt, having
adroitly avoided the sharp claws of his enemy.

"Arrah! Mister Hermit," said Barney, wiping the perspiration from his
forehead, "it's yersilf that was well-nigh done for this time, an' no
mistake. Did iver I see sich a spring! an' ye stud the charge jist like a
stone wall,--niver moved a fut!"

"Are you not hurt?" inquired Martin, somewhat anxiously; "your face is
all covered with blood."

"Yes, boy, but it is the blood of the jaguar; thanks to you for your
quick hand, I am not hurt at all."

The hermit washed his face in the neighbouring brook, and then proceeded
to skin the jaguar, the carcase being worthless. After which they
retraced their steps through the woods as quickly as possible, for the
day was now far spent, and the twilight, as we have before remarked, is
so short in tropical latitudes that travellers require to make sure of
reaching the end of the day's journey towards evening, unless they choose
to risk losing their way, and spending the night in the forest.

They picked up the iguana in passing; and, on reaching the spot where the
armadillo had burrowed, the hermit paused and kindled a small fire over
the hole, by means of his flint, steel, and tinder-box. He thus contrived
to render the creature's habitation so uncomfortable that it rushed
hurriedly out; then, observing that its enemies were waiting, it doubled
its head and tail together, and became the image of a rough stone.

"Poor thing," said Martin, as the hermit killed it, "that reminds me of
the ostrich of the desert, which, I'm told, when it is chased over the
plains by men on horseback, and finds that it cannot escape, thrusts its
head into a bush, and fancies, no doubt, that it cannot be seen, although
its great body is visible a mile off!"

"Martin," said Barney, "this arth is full o' quare craturs intirely."

"That's true, Barney; and not the least 'quare' among them is an
Irishman, a particular friend of mine."

"Hould yer tongue, ye spalpeen, or I'll put yer head in the wather!"

"I wish ye would, Barney, for it is terribly hot and mosquito-bitten, and
you couldn't have suggested anything more delightful. But here we are
once more at our forest home; and now for a magnificent cup of coffee and
a mandioca-cake."

"Not to mintion," added Barney, "a juicy steak of Igu Anny, an' a tender
chop o' Army Dillo."




CHAPTER XIII

MARTIN AND BARNEY CONTINUE THEIR TRAVELS, AND SEE STRANGE
THINGS--AMONG OTHERS, THEY SEE LIVING JEWELS--THEY GO TO SEE A
FESTA--THEY FIGHT AND RUN AWAY


Martin Rattler and Barney O'Flannagan soon after this began to entertain
a desire to travel further into the interior of Brazil, and behold with
their own eyes the wonders of which they had heard so much from their
kind and hospitable friend the hermit. Martin was especially anxious to
see the great river Amazon, about which he entertained the most romantic
ideas,--as well he might, for there is not such another river in the
world for size, and for the many curious things connected with its waters
and its banks. Barney, too, was smitten with an intense desire to visit
the diamond mines, which he fancied must be the most brilliant and
beautiful sight in the whole world; and when Martin asked him what sort
of place he expected to see, he used to say that he "pictur'd in his mind
a great many deep and lofty caverns, windin' in an' out an' round about,
with the sides and the floors and the ceilin's all of a blaze with
glittering di'monds, an' top'zes, an' purls, an' what not; with Naiggurs
be the dozen picking them up in handfuls. An' sure," he would add, "if we
was wance there, we could fill our pockets in no time, an' then, hooray
for ould Ireland! an' live like Imperors for ivermore."

"But you forget, Barney, the account the hermit has given us of the
mines. He evidently does not think that much is to be made of them."

"Och! niver mind the hermit. There's always good luck attends Barney
O'Flanngan; an' sure if nobody wint for fear they would git nothing, all
the di'monds that iver came out o' the mines would be lyin' there still;
an' didn't he tell us there was wan got only a short time since, worth I
don't know how many thousand pounds? Arrah! if I don't go to the mines
an' git one the size o' me head, I'll let ye rig me out with a long tail
an' set me adrift in the woods for a blue-faced monkey."

It so happened that this was the time when the hermit was in the habit of
setting out on one of his trading trips; and when Martin told him of the
desire that he and Barney entertained to visit the interior, he told them
that he would be happy to take them along with him, provided they would
act the part of muleteers. To this they readily agreed, being only too
glad of an opportunity of making some return to their friend, who refused
to accept any payment for his hospitality, although Barney earnestly
begged of him to accept of his watch, which was the only object of value
he was possessed of,--and that wasn't worth much, being made of
pinch-beck, and utterly incapable of going! Moreover, he relieved their
minds, by telling them that they would easily obtain employment as
canoe-men on the Amazon, for men were very difficult to be got on that
river to man the boats; and if they could stand the heat, and were
willing to work like Indians, they might travel as far as they pleased.
To which Martin replied, in his ignorance, that he thought he could stand
anything; and Barney roundly asserted that, having been burnt to a cinder
long ago in the "East Injies," it was impossible to overdo him any more.

Under these circumstances, therefore, they started three weeks later to
visit a populous town about twenty miles off, from which they set out on
their travels, with a string of heavily laden mules, crossed the low
countries or campos lying near to the sea, and began to ascend the
sierras that divide this portion of Brazil from the country which is
watered by the innumerable rivers that flow into the mighty Amazon.

The cavalcade consisted of ten mules, each with two goodly sized bales of
merchandise on its back. They were driven and attended to by Negroes,
whose costume consisted of a light cotton shirt with short sleeves, and a
pair of loose cotton drawers reaching down to the knee. With the
exception of a straw hat this was all they wore. Martin, and Barney, and
the hermit each bestrode a mule, with a small bale slung on either side;
over the front of which their legs dangled comfortably. They had ponchos
with them, strapped to the mules' backs, and each carried a clumsy
umbrella to shield him from the fierce rays of the sun; but our two
adventurers soon became so hardened and used to the climate, that they
dispensed with the umbrellas altogether.

The sierra, or mountain range, over which they passed was about thirty
miles in extent, being in some places quite level and open, but in others
somewhat rugged and covered with large but thinly scattered trees, the
most common of which had fine dark-green glossy leaves, with spikes of
bright yellow flowers terminating the branchlets. There were also many
peculiar shrubs and flowering plants, of a sort that the travellers had
never seen the like of in their native land.

"How I wish," said Martin with a sigh, as he rode along beside his friend
Barney, "that I knew something of botany."

Barney opened his eyes in surprise. "Arrah! it's too much of a
philosopher ye are already, lad. What good would it do ye to know all the
hard names that men have given to the flowers? Sure I wance wint after
the doctor o' a ship, to carry his box for him when he wint on what he
called botanical excursions; and the poor cratur used to be pokin' his
nose for iver down at the ground, an' peerin' through his green
spectacles at miserable bits o' plants, an' niver seemin' to enjoy
anything; when all the time _I_ was lookin' far fornint me, an' all
around me, an' up at the sky, seem' ivery beautiful thing, and snifterin'
up the sweet smells, an' in fact enjoyin' the whole univarse--an my pipe
to boot--like an intelligent cratur." Barney looked round as he spoke,
with a bland, self-satisfied expression of countenance, as if he felt
that he had given a lucid definition of the very highest style of
philosophy, and proved that he, Barney O'Flannagan, was possessed of the
same in no common degree.

"Well, Barney," rejoined Martin, "since you give me credit for being a
philosopher, I must continue to talk philosophically. Your botanical
friend took a _microscopic_ view of nature, while you took a _telescopic_
view of it. Each view is good, but both views are better; and I can't
help wishing that I were more of a philosopher than I am, especially in
reference to botany."

"Humph!" ejaculated Barney, who seemed not quite to understand his young
friend, "yer observations are remarkably thrue, and do ye great credit,
for yer years. Ah! Mr. Hermit, good luck to ye! I'm glad to see that
ye've got some consideration for man and baste. I'm quite ready for my
victuals, and so's my mule; aren't you, avic?"

Barney's latter remark was addressed to his patient charger, from whose
back he sprang as he spoke, and slackened its girths.

It was now approaching mid-day, and the hermit had pitched upon a large
tree as a fitting spot for rest and refreshment. Water had been brought
up the mountain in a huge calabash; but they did not require to use it,
as they found a quantity in the hollow stump of a tree. There were
several frogs swimming about in this miniature lake; but it was found to
be fresh and clear and good notwithstanding.

Towards evening they passed a string of mules going towards the town
which they had just left. They were driven by Negroes, most of whom were
slaves, and nearly quite naked. A Brazilian merchant, wearing a
picturesque broad-brimmed, high-crowned straw-hat, a poncho, and brown
leather boots armed at the heels with large sharp spurs, rode at the
head, and gave the strangers a surly nod of his head as they passed. Soon
after, they descended into the plain, and came to a halt at a sort of
roadside public-house, where there was no sleeping accommodation, but
where they found an open shed in which travellers placed their goods, and
slung their hammocks, and attended to themselves. At the venda, close
beside it, they purchased a large bag of farina, being short of that
necessary article of food, and then set to work to prepare supper in the
open air; while the merry Negroes, who seemed to enjoy life most
thoroughly, laughed and sang as they removed the bales from the mules'
backs and cooked their simple fare.

Barney's cooking propensities now came into full play; and, with the
variety of fruits and vegetables which the country afforded, he exercised
his ingenuity, and produced several dishes of so savoury a nature that
the hermit was compelled to open his eyes in amazement, and smack his
lips with satisfaction, being quite unable to express his sentiments in
words. While thus busily and agreeably employed, they were told by the
owner of the venda that a festa was being celebrated at a village about a
league distant from where they stood.

"I should like to see it above all things," said Martin eagerly; "could
we not go?"

The hermit frowned. "Yes, we can go, but it will be to behold
folly. Perhaps it will be a good lesson, from which much may be
learned. We will go."

"It's not a step that I'll budge till I've finished me pipe," said
Barney, pulling away at that bosom friend with unexampled energy. "To
smoke," he continued, winking gently with one eye, "is the first law of
nature; jist give me ten minutes more, an' _I'm_ your man for anything,"

Being a fine evening, they proceeded on foot. In about an hour after
setting out they approached the village, which lay in a beautiful valley
below them. Sounds of mirth and music rose like a distant murmur on the
air, and mingled with the songs of birds and insects. Then the sun went
down, and in a few minutes it grew dark, while the brilliant fire-flies
began their nocturnal gambols. Suddenly a bright flame burst over the
village, and a flight of magnificent rockets shot up into the sky, and
burst in a hundred bright and variously-coloured stars, which paled for a
few seconds the lights of nature. But they vanished in a moment, and the
clear stars shed abroad their undying lustre,--seeming, in their quiet,
unfading beauty, a gentle satire on the short-lived and gairish
productions of man.

"Mighty purty, no doubt," exclaimed Barney. "Is this the Imperor's
birth-day?"

"No," replied the hermit, shaking his head; "that is the way in which the
false priests amuse the people. The poor Indian and the Negro, and,
indeed, the ignorant Brazilian, thinks it very grand; and the priests let
them think it is pleasing to the God of heaven. Ah! here comes an old
Negro; we will ask him."

Several country people, in varied and picturesque costumes, hurried past
the travellers towards the village; and as they came to a foot-path that
joined the road, an old Negro approached them. Saluting him in the
Portuguese language, the hermit said, "Friend, why do they let off
rockets to-night?"

"For Dios" (for God), answered the old man, looking and pointing upwards
with grave solemnity. Without vouchsafing another word, he hurried away.

"So they think," said the hermit, "and so they are taught by the priests.
Music, noise, and fire-works please these ignorant people; and so the
priests, who are mostly as ignorant as the people, tell them it is a good
part of religious ceremony."

Presently a band of young girls came laughing and singing along the road.
They were dressed in pure white, their rich black tresses being uncovered
and ornamented with flowers, and what appeared to be bright jewels.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Martin, gazing after them; "what splendid jewels!
surely these must be the daughters of very rich people."

"Och, but they've been at the di'mond mines for certain! Did iver ye sae
the like?"

The girls did indeed seem to blaze with jewels, which not only sparkled
in their hair, but fringed their white robes, and were worked round the
edges of their slippers; so that a positive light shone around their
persons, and fell upon the path like a halo, giving them more the
appearance of lovely supernatural beings than the daughters of earth.

"These jewels," said the hermit, "were never polished by the hands of
men. They are fire-flies."

"Fire-flies!" exclaimed Martin and Barney simultaneously.

"Yes, they are living fire-flies. The girls very often catch them and tie
them up in little bits of gauze, and put them, as you see, on their
dresses and in their hair. To my mind they seem more beautiful far than
diamonds. Sometimes the Indians, when they travel at night, fix
fire-flies to their feet, and so have good lamps to their path."

While Barney was expressing his surprise at this information, in very
racy language, they entered the village; and, mingling with the throng of
holiday-keepers, followed the stream towards the grand square.

The church, which seemed to be a centre of attraction, and was
brilliantly illuminated, was a neat wooden building with two towers. The
streets of the village were broad and straggling; and so luxuriant was
the vegetation, and so lazy the nature of the inhabitants, that it seemed
as if the whole place were overgrown with gigantic weeds. Shrubs and
creeping-plants grew in the neglected gardens, climbed over the palings,
and straggled about the streets. Plants grew on the tops of the houses,
ferns peeped out under the eaves; and, in short, on looking at it one had
the feeling that ere long the whole place, people and all, must be
smothered in superabundant vegetation!

The houses were all painted white or yellow, with the doors and windows
bright green,--just like grown-up toys; and sounds of revelry, with now
and then the noise of disputation, issued from many of them.

It is impossible to describe minutely the appearance of the motley crowd
through which our adventurers elbowed their way, gazing curiously on the
strange scene, which seemed to them more like a dream than reality, after
their long sojourn in the solitudes of the forest. Processions headed by
long-robed priests with flambeaux and crucifixes; young girls in light
costumes and long white cotton shawls, selling sweet cakes of mandioca
flour, and bonbons; swarthy Brazilians, some in white jackets, loose
cotton drawers, and straw hats, others in brown leather boots and
ponchos; Negroes in short white drawers and shirts, besides many without
any clothing above their waists; Indians from the interior,
copper-coloured, and some of them, fine-looking men, having only a strip
of cloth about their loins;--such were the strange crew whose loud voices
added to the whiz of rockets, squibs, crackers, guns, and musical
instruments, created a deafening noise.

In the midst of the village there was a tree of such enormous size that
it quite took our travellers by surprise. It was a wild fig-tree, capable
of sheltering a thousand persons under its shadow! Here a spirited
fandango was going on, and they stood for some time watching the
movements of the performers. Growing tired of this, they wandered about
until they came to a less crowded part of the village, and entered a
pleasant grove of trees skirting the road by which they had arrived.
While sauntering here, enjoying the cool night breeze and delicious
perfume of flowers, a woman uttered a piercing shriek near to them. It
was instantly followed by loud voices in altercation. Ever ready to fly
to the help of womankind, and, generally, to assist in a "row," Barney
darted through the bushes, and came upon the scene of action just in time
to see the white skirt of a female's dress disappear down an avenue, and
to behold two Brazilians savagely writhing in mortal strife. At the
moment he came up, one of the combatants had overcome the other, and a
fierce smile of triumph crossed his swarthy countenance as he raised his
gleaming knife.

"Och, ye murtherer! would ye attimpt that same?" cried Barney, catching
the man by the wrist and hurling him on his back. The other sprang up on
being thus unexpectedly freed, and darted away, while the thwarted man
uttered a yell of disappointment and sprang like a tiger at Barney's
throat. A blow, however, from the Irishman's fist, quietly delivered, and
straight between the eyes, stretched the Brazilian on the ground. At the
same moment a party of men, attracted by the cries, burst through the
bushes and surrounded the successful champion. Seeing their countryman
apparently dead upon the ground, they rushed upon Barney in a body; but
the first who came within reach was floored in an instant, and the others
were checked in their career by the sudden appearance of the hermit and
Martin Rattler. The noise of many voices, as of people hastening towards
them, was heard at the same time.

"We have no time to lose, do as I bid you," whispered the hermit.
Whirling a heavy stick round his head the hermit shouted the single word
"Charge!" and dashed forward.

Barney and Martin obeyed. Three Brazilians went down like ninepins; the
rest turned and fled precipitately.

"Now, run for life!" cried the hermit, setting the example. Barney
hesitated to follow what he deemed a cowardly flight, but the yells of
the natives returning in strong force decided the question. He and Martin
took to their heels with right good will, and in a few minutes the three
friends were far on the road which led to their night bivouac; while the
villagers, finding pursuit hopeless, returned to the village, and
continued the wild orgies of their festa.




CHAPTER XIV

COGITATIONS AND CANOEING ON THE AMAZON--BARNEY'S EXPLOIT WITH AN
ALLIGATOR--STUBBORN FACTS--REMARKABLE MODE OF SLEEPING


It is pleasant, when the sun is bright, and the trees are green, and when
flowering shrubs and sweet-smelling tropical trees scent the balmy
atmosphere at eventide, to lie extended at full length in a canoe, and
drop easily, silently, yet quickly, down the current of a noble river,
under the grateful shadow of overhanging foliage; and to look lazily up
at the bright blue sky which appears in broken patches among the verdant
leaves; or down at the river in which that bright sky and those green
leaves are reflected; or aside at the mud-banks where greedy vultures are
searching for prey, and lazy alligators are basking in the sun; and to
listen, the while, to the innumerable cries and notes of monkeys,
toucans, parrots, orioles, bemtevi or fly-catchers, white-winged and blue
chatterers, and all the myriads of birds and beasts that cause the
forests of Brazil, above all other forests in the world probably, to
resound with the gleeful songs of animated nature!

It is pleasant to be thus situated, especially when a cool breeze blows
the mosquitoes and other insects off the water, and relieves you for a
time from their incessant attacks. Martin Rattler found it pleasant, as
he thus lay on his back with his diminutive pet marmoset monkey seated on
his breast quietly picking the kernel out of a nut. And Barney
O'Flannagan found it pleasant, as he lay extended in the bow of the canoe
with his head leaning over the edge gazing abstractedly at his own
reflected visage, while his hands trailed through the cool water, and his
young dog--a shaggy indescribable beast with a bluff nose and a bushy
tail--watched him intently, as a mother might watch an only child in a
dangerous situation. And the old sun-dried, and storm-battered, and
time-shrivelled mulatto trader, in those canoe they were embarked and
whose servants they had become, found it pleasant, as he sat there
perched in his little montaria, like an exceedingly ancient and overgrown
monkey, guiding it safely down the waters of the great river of the
Tocantins.

Some months have passed since we last parted from our daring adventurers.
During that period they had crossed an immense tract of country, and
reached the head waters of one of the many streams that carry the surplus
moisture of central Brazil into the Amazon. Here they found an old
trader, a free mulatto, whose crew of Indians had deserted him,--a common
thing in that country,--and who gladly accepted their services, agreeing
to pay them a small wage. And here they sorrowfully, and with many
expressions of good-will, parted from their kind friend and entertainer
the hermit. His last gift to Martin was the wonderfully small marmoset
monkey before mentioned; and his parting souvenir to Barney was the
bluff-nosed dog that watched over him with maternal care, and loved him
next to itself;--as well it might; for if everybody had been of the same
spirit as Barney O'Flannagan, the Act for the prevention of cruelty to
animals would never have been passed in Britain.

It was a peculiar and remarkable and altogether extraordinary monkey,
that tiny marmoset. There was a sort of romance connected with it, too;
for it had been the mother of an indescribably small infant-monkey,
which was killed at the time of its mother's capture. It drank coffee,
too, like--like a Frenchman; and would by no means retire to rest at
night until it had had its usual allowance. Then it would fold its
delicate little hands on its bosom, and close its eyes with an
expression of solemn grief, as if, having had its last earthly wish
gratified, it now resigned itself to--sleep. Martin loved it deeply, but
his love was unrequited; for, strange to say, that small monkey lavished
all its affection on Barney's shaggy dog. And the dog knew it, and was
evidently proud of it, and made no objection whatever to the monkey
sitting on his back, or his head, or his nose, or doing, in fact,
whatever it chose whenever it pleased. When in the canoe, the marmoset
played with Grampus, as the dog was named; and when on shore it
invariably travelled on his back.

Martin used to lie in the canoe half asleep and watch the little face of
the marmoset, until, by some unaccountable mental process, he came to
think of Aunt Dorothy Grumbit. Often did poor Martin dream of his dear
old aunt, while sleeping under the shelter of these strange-leaved
tropical trees and surrounded by the wild sounds of that distant land,
until he dreamed himself back again in the old village. Then he would
rush to the well-known school, and find all the boys there except Bob
Croaker, who he felt certain must be away drowning the white kitten; and
off he would go and catch him, sure enough, in the very act, and would
give him the old thrashing over again, with all the additional vigour
acquired during his rambles abroad thrown into it. Then he would run home
in eager haste, and find old Mrs. Grumbit hard at the one thousand nine
hundred and ninety-ninth pair of worsted socks; and fat Mr. Arthur
Jollyboy sitting opposite to her, dressed in the old lady's bed-curtain
chintz and high-crowned cap, with the white kitten in his arms and his
spectacles on his chin, watching the process with intense interest, and
cautioning her not to forget the "hitch" by any means; whereupon the
kitten would fly up in his face, and Mr. Jollyboy would dash through the
window with a loud howl, and Mrs. Grumbit's face would turn blue; and,
uncoiling an enormous tail, she would bound shrieking after him in among
the trees and disappear! Martin usually wakened at this point, and found
the marmoset gazing in his face with an expression of sorrowful
solemnity, and the old sun-dried trader staring vacantly before him as he
steered his light craft down the broad stream of the Tocantins.

The trader could speak little more English than sufficed to enable him to
say "yes" and "no"; Barney could speak about as much Portuguese as
enabled him to say "no" and "yes"; while Martin, by means of a slight
smattering of that language, which he had picked up by ear during the
last few months, mixed now and then with a word or two of Latin, and
helped out by a clever use of the language of signs, succeeded in
becoming the link of communication between the two.

For many weeks they continued to descend the river; paddling
energetically when the stream was sluggish, and resting comfortably when
the stream was strong, and sometimes dragging their canoe over rocks and
sand-banks to avoid rapids--passing many villages and plantations of the
natives by the way--till at last they swept out upon the bosom of the
great Amazon River.

The very first thing they saw upon entering it was an enormous alligator,
fully eighteen feet long, sound asleep on a mud-bank.

"Och! put ashore, ye Naygur," cried Barney, seizing his pistol and rising
up in the bow of the canoe. The old man complied quickly, for his spirit
was high and easily roused.

"Look out now, Martin, an' hould back the dog for fear he wakes him up,"
said Barney, in a hoarse whisper, as he stepped ashore and hastened
stealthily towards the sleeping monster; catching up a handful of gravel
as he went, and ramming it down the barrel of his pistol. It was a
wonderful pistol that--an Irish one by birth, and absolutely incapable of
bursting, else assuredly it would have gone, as its owner said, to
"smithereens" long ago.

Barney was not a good stalker. The alligator awoke and made for the water
as fast as it could waddle. The Irishman rushed forward close up, as it
plunged into the river, and discharged the compound of lead and stones
right against the back of its head. He might as well have fired at the
boiler of a steam-engine. The entire body of an alligator--back and
belly, head and tail--is so completely covered with thick hard scales,
that shot has no effect on it; and even a bullet cannot pierce its coat
of mail, except in one or two vulnerable places. Nevertheless the shot
had been fired so close to it that the animal was stunned, and rolled
over on its back in the water. Seeing this, the old trader rushed in up
to his chin, and caught it by the tail; but at the same moment the
monster recovered, and, turning round, displayed its terrific rows of
teeth. The old man uttered a dreadful roar, and struggled to the land as
fast as he could; while the alligator, equally frightened, no doubt, gave
a magnificent flourish and splash with its tail, and dived to the bottom
of the river.

The travellers returned disgusted to their canoe, and resumed their
journey up the Amazon in silence.

The vulnerable places about an alligator are the soft parts under the
throat and the joints of the legs. This is well known to the jaguar, its
mortal foe, which attacks it on land, and fastening on these soft parts,
soon succeeds in killing it; but should the alligator get the jaguar into
its powerful jaws or catch it in the water, it is certain to come off the
conqueror.

The Amazon, at its mouth, is more like a wide lake or arm of the sea than
a river. Mention has been already made of this noble stream in the
Hermit's Story; but it is worthy of more particular notice, for truly the
Amazon is in many respects a wonderful river. It is the largest, though
not quite the longest, in the world. Taking its rise among the rocky
solitudes of the great mountain range of the Andes, it flows through
nearly four thousand miles of the continent in an easterly direction,
trending northward towards its mouth, and entering the Atlantic Ocean on
the northern coast of South America, directly under the Equator. In its
course it receives the waters of nearly all the great rivers of central
South America, and thousands of smaller tributaries; so that when it
reaches the ocean its volume of water is enormous. Some idea may be
formed of its majestic size, from the fact that one of its
tributaries--the Rio Negro--is fifteen hundred miles long, and varying in
breadth; being a mile wide not far from its mouth, while higher up it
spreads out in some places into sheets of ten miles in width. The
Madeira, another tributary, is also a river of the largest size. The
Amazon is divided into two branches at its mouth by the island of Marajo,
the larger branch being ninety-six miles in width. About two thousand
miles from its mouth it is upwards of a mile wide. So great is the force
of this flood of water, that it flows into the sea unmixed for nearly two
hundred miles. The tide affects the river to a distance of about four
hundred miles inland; and it is navigable from the sea for a distance of
three thousand miles inland.

On the north bank of the Amazon there are ranges of low hills, partly
bare and partly covered with thickets. These hills vary from three
hundred to a thousand feet high, and extend about two hundred miles
inland. Beyond them the shores of the river are low and flat for more
than two thousand miles, till the spurs of the Andes are reached.

During the rainy season the Amazon overflows all its banks, like the
Nile, for many hundreds of miles; during which season, as Martin Rattler
truly remarked, the natives may be appropriately called aquatic animals.
Towns and villages, and plantations belonging to Brazilians, foreign
settlers, and half-civilized Indians, occur at intervals throughout the
whole course of the river; and a little trade in dye-woods, India-rubber,
medicinal drugs, Brazil nuts, coffee, &c., is done; but nothing to what
might and ought to be, and perhaps would be, were this splendid country
in the hands of an enterprising people. But the Amazonians are lazy, and
the greater part of the resources of one of the richest countries in the
world is totally neglected.

"Arrah!" said Barney, scratching his head and wrinkling his forehead
intensely, as all that we have just written, and a great deal more, was
told to him by a Scotch settler whom he found superintending a cattle
estate and a saw-mill on the banks of the Amazon--"Faix, then, I'm jist
as wise now as before ye begun to spake. I've no head for fagures
whatsumdiver; an' to tell me that the strame is ninety-six miles long and
three thousand miles broad at the mouth, and sich like calcerlations, is
o' no manner o' use, and jist goes in at wan ear an' out at the tother."

Whereupon the Scotch settler smiled and said, "Well, then, if ye can
remember that the Amazon is longer than all Europe is broad; that it
opens up to the ocean not less than ten thousand miles of the interior
of Brazil; and that, _comparatively_ speaking, no use is made of it
whatever, ye'll remember enough to think about with profit for some
time to come."

And Barney did think about it, and ponder it, and revolve it in his mind,
for many days after, while he worked with Martin and the old trader at
the paddles of their montaria. They found the work of canoeing easier
than had been anticipated; for during the summer months the wind blows
steadily up the river, and they were enabled to hoist their mat-sail, and
bowl along before it against the stream.

Hotels and inns there were none; for Brazil does not boast of many such
conveniences, except in the chief towns; so they were obliged, in
travelling, to make use of an empty hut or shed, when they chanced to
stop at a village, and to cook their own victuals. More frequently,
however, they preferred to encamp in the woods--slinging their hammocks
between the stems of the trees, and making a fire sometimes, to frighten
away the jaguars, which, although seldom seen, were often heard at
night. They met large canoes and montarias occasionally coming down the
stream, and saw them hauled up on shore, while their owners were cooking
their breakfast in the woods; and once they came upon a solitary old
Indian in a very curious position. They had entered a small stream in
order to procure a few turtles' eggs, of which there were many in that
place buried in the sand-banks. On turning a point where the stream was
narrow and overhung with bushes and trees, they beheld a canoe tied to
the stem of a tree, and a hammock slung between two branches overhanging
the water. In this an old Indian lay extended, quite naked and fast
asleep! The old fellow had grown weary with paddling his little canoe;
and, finding the thicket along the river's banks so impenetrable that he
could not land, he slung his hammock over the water, and thus quietly
took his siesta. A flock of paroquets were screaming like little green
demons just above him, and several alligators gave him a passing glance
as they floundered heavily in the water below; but the red man cared not
for such trifles. Almost involuntarily Martin began to hum the popular
nursery rhyme--

"Hushy ba, baby, on the tree top;
When the wind blows the cradle will rock."

"Arrah, if he was only two foot lower, its thirty pair o' long teeth
would be stuck into his flank in wan minute, or I'm no prophet," said
Barney, with a broad grin.

"Suppose we give him a touch with the paddle in passing,"
suggested Martin.

At this moment Barney started up, shaded his eyes with his hand, and,
after gazing for a few seconds at some object ahead of the canoe, he gave
utterance to an exclamation of mingled surprise and consternation.




CHAPTER XV

THE GREAT ANACONDA'S DINNER--BARNEY GETS A FRIGHT--TURTLES' EGGS, OMELETS
AND ALLIGATORS' TAILS--SENHOR ANTONIO'S PLANTATION--PREPARATIONS FOR A
GREAT HUNT


The object which called forth the cry from our Irish friend, as related
in the last chapter, was neither more nor less than a serpent of
dimensions more enormous than Barney had ever before conceived of. It was
upwards of sixteen feet long, and nearly as thick as a man's body; but
about the neck it was three times that size. This serpent was not,
indeed, of the largest size. In South America they grow to nearly forty
feet in length. But it was fabulously gigantic in the eyes of our
adventurers, who had never seen a serpent of any kind before.

"Oh!" cried Martin, eagerly, "that must be an anaconda. Is it not?" he
inquired, turning to the old trader.

"Yees; it dead," was the short reply.

"So it is!" cried Martin, who, on a nearer approach, observed that the
brute's body was cut in two just below the swelling at the neck.

"Now, did ye iver," cried Barney with increased surprise, "see a sarpint
with a cow's horns growin' out at its mouth? Put ashore, old boy; we must
have a Vestigation o' this remarkable cratur."

The canoe was soon aground, and in another minute the three travellers
busily engaged in turning over the carcass of the huge reptile, which
they found, to the amazement of Martin and Barney, had actually
swallowed an ox whole, with the exception of the horns, which protruded
from its mouth!

After much questioning, in bad Portuguese, broken English, and remarkable
signs, Martin succeeded in drawing from the old trader the information
that anacondas of a large size are often in the habit of thus bolting
horses and oxen at a mouthful.

There is not the slightest exaggeration in this fact. Readers who are
inclined to disbelieve it may refer to the works of Wallace and Gardner
on Brazil,--authorities which cannot be doubted.

The reptile commences by patiently watching until an unfortunate animal
strays near to where it is lying, when it darts upon it, encircles it in
its massive coils, and crushes it to death in an instant. Then it
squeezes the body and broken bones into a shapeless mass; after which it
licks the carcass all over, and covers it with a thick coating of saliva.
Having thus prepared its mouthful, the andaconda begins at the tail and
gradually engulfs its victim, while its elastic jaws, and throat, and
stomach are distended sufficiently to let it in; after which it lies in a
torpid state for many weeks, till the morsel is digested, when it is
ready for another meal. A horse goes down entire, but a cow sticks at the
horns, which the anaconda cannot swallow. They are allowed to protrude
from its mouth until they decay and drop off.

They were at a loss at first to account for the creature being killed;
but the old trader suggested that it had been found in a torpid state,
and slain by the Indian whom they had seen a short time ago enjoying his
siesta among the trees.

Having cut it open, in order to convince themselves beyond a doubt that
it had swallowed an entire ox, Martin and the old trader re-embarked in
the canoe, and Barney was on the point of joining them when the bushes
close beside him were slightly stirred. Looking quickly round, he beheld
the head and the glittering eyes of another anaconda, apparently as large
as the dead one, ready to dart upon him,--at least so he fancied; but he
did not wait to give it a chance. He fled instantly, and sprang towards
the boat, which he nearly upset as he leaped into it, and pushed out into
the stream. On reaching the middle of the river they looked back, but the
anaconda was gone.

Soon after this they came to a long sandbank, where the old trader said
they should find as many turtles' eggs as they wished for, although to
Barney and Martin there seemed to be nothing on the bank at all. The
fresh-water turtle of the Amazon, of which there are various species, is
one of the most useful of reptiles. Its flesh supplies abundance of good
food; and the eggs, besides being eaten, afford an excellent oil. The
largest species grow to the length of three feet, and have a flattish
oval shell of a dark colour, and quite smooth. Turtles lay their eggs
about the beginning of September, when the sand-banks begin to be
uncovered. They scrape deep holes for them, and cover them carefully
over, beating down the sand quite flat, and walking across the place
several times, for the purpose of concealment. The eggs are then left to
be hatched by the heat of the sun. But, alas for the poor turtles! men
are too clever for them. The eggs are collected by the natives in
thousands, and, when oil is to be made of them, they are thrown into a
canoe, smashed and mixed up together, and left to stand, when the oil
rises to the top, and is skimmed off and boiled. It keeps well, and is
used both for lamps and cooking. Very few of the millions of eggs that
are annually laid arrive at maturity.

When the young turtles issue forth and run to the water, there are many
enemies watching for them. Great alligators open their jaws and swallow
them by hundreds; jaguars come out of the forests and feed upon them;
eagles and buzzards and wood ibises are there, too, to claim their share
of the feast; and, if they are fortunate enough to escape all these,
there are many large and ravenous fishes ready to seize them in the
stream. It seems a marvel that any escape at all.

In a few minutes the old trader scraped up about a hundred eggs, to the
immense satisfaction of Martin and Barney. Then he took a bow and arrow
from the bottom of the montaria and shot a large turtle in the water,
while his companions kindled a fire, intending to dine. Only the nose of
the turtle was visible above water; but the old man was so expert in the
use of the bow, that he succeeded in transfixing the soft part of the
animal's neck with an arrow, although that part was under water. It was a
large turtle, and very fat and heavy, so that it was with difficulty the
trader lifted it upon his old shoulders and bore it in triumph to the
spot where his companions were busily engaged with their cooking
operations. Turtles are frequently shot with the arrow by the natives;
they are also taken in great numbers with the hook and the net.

Dinner was soon ready. Barney concocted an immense and savoury omelet,
and the old trader cooked an excellent turtle-steak, while Martin
prepared a junk of jaguar meat, which he roasted, being curious to taste
it, as he had been told that the Indians like it very much. It was pretty
good, but not equal to the turtle-eggs. The shell of the egg is leathery,
and the yolk only is eaten. The Indians sometimes cat them raw, mixed
with farina. Cakes of farina, and excellent coffee, concluded their
repast; and Barney declared he had never had such a satisfactory "blow
out" in his life; a sentiment with which Martin entirely agreed, and the
old trader--if one might judge from the expression of his black
countenance--sympathized.

For many weeks our adventurers continued to ascend the Amazon, sometimes
sailing before the wind; at other times, when it fell calm, pushing the
montaria up the current by means of long poles, or advancing more easily
with the paddles. Occasionally they halted for a day at the residence of
a wealthy cacao planter, in order to sell him some merchandise; for which
purpose the canoe was unloaded, and the bales were opened out for his
inspection. Most of these planters were Brazilians, a few were Yankee
adventurers, and one or two were Scotch and English; but nearly all had
married Brazilian ladies, who, with their daughters, proved good
customers to the old trader. Some of these ladies were extremely "purty
craturs," as Barney expressed it; but most of them were totally
uneducated and very ignorant,--not knowing half so much as a child of
seven or eight years old in more favoured lands. They were very fond of
fine dresses and ornaments, of which considerable supplies were sent to
them from Europe and the United States, in exchange for the valuable
produce of their country. But, although their dresses were fine and
themselves elegant, their houses were generally very poor affairs--made
of wood and thatched with broad leaves; and it was no uncommon thing to
see a lady, who seemed from her gay dress to be fitted for a
drawing-room, seated on an earthen floor. But there were all sorts of
extremes in this strange land; for at the next place they came to,
perhaps, they found a population of Negroes and Indians, and most of the
grown-up people were half naked, while all the children were entirely so.

At one plantation, where they resolved to spend a few days, the owner had
a pond which was much frequented by alligators. These he was in the habit
of hunting periodically, for the sake of their fat, which he converted
into oil. At the time of their arrival, he was on the eve of starting on
a hunting expedition to the lake, which was about eight miles distant; so
Barney and Martin determined to go and "see the fun," as the latter said.

"Martin, lad," remarked Barney, as they followed the Negro slave who had
been sent by Senhor Antonio, the planter, to conduct them to the lake,
while he remained behind for an hour or two to examine the bales of the
old trader; "this is the quarest country, I believe, that iver was made;
what with bastes, and varmints, and riptiles, and traes, and bushes, and
rivers, it bates all creation."

"Certainly it does, Barney; and it is a pity there are so few people in
it who know how to make use of the things that are scattered all around
them. I'm inclined to think the hermit was right when he said that they
wanted the Bible. They are too far sunk in laziness and idleness to be
raised up by anything else. Just look," continued Martin, glancing round,
"what a wonderful place this is! It seems as if all the birds and curious
trees in Brazil had congregated here to meet us."

"So't does," said Barney, stopping to gaze on the scene through which
they were passing, with an expression of perplexity on his face, as if he
found the sight rather too much even for _his_ comprehension. Besides the
parrots and scarlet and yellow macaws, and other strange-looking birds
which we have elsewhere mentioned, there were long-tailed light-coloured
cuckoos flying about from tree to tree, not calling like the cuckoo of
Europe at all, but giving forth a sound like the creaking of a rusty
hinge; there were hawks and buzzards of many different kinds, and
red-breasted orioles in the bushes, and black vultures flying overhead,
and Muscovy ducks sweeping past with whizzing wings, and flocks of the
great wood-ibis sailing in the air on noiseless pinions, and hundreds of
other birds that it would require an ornithologist to name; and myriads
of insects,--especially ants and spiders, great and small,--that no
entomologist could chronicle in a lifetime; all these were heard and seen
at once; while of the animals that were heard, but not so often seen,
there were black and spotted jaguars, and pacas, and cotias, and
armadillos, and deer, and many others, that would take _pages_ to
enumerate and whole books to describe. But the noise was the great point.
That was the thing that took Martin and Barney quite aback, although it
was by no means new to them; but they could not get used to it. And no
wonder! Ten thousand paroquets shrieking passionately, like a hundred
knife-grinders at work, is no joke; especially when their melodies are
mingled with the discordant cries of herons, and bitterns, and cranes,
and the ceaseless buzz and hum of insects, like the bagpipe's drone, and
the dismal croaking of boat-bills and frogs,--one kind of which latter,
by the way, doesn't croak at all, but _whistles_, ay, better than many a
bird! The universal hubbub is tremendous! I tell you, reader, that you
_don't_ understand it, and you _can't_ understand it; and if, after I had
used the utmost excess of exaggerated language to convey a correct
impression of the reality, you were to imagine that you really _did_
understand it, you would be very lamentably mistaken--that's all!

Nevertheless, you must not run away with the idea that the whole empire
of Brazil is like this. There are dark thick solitudes in these vast
forests, which are solemn and silent enough at times; and there are wide
grassy campos, and great sandy plains, where such sounds are absent. Yet
there are also thousands of such spots as I have just described, where
all nature, in earth, air, and water, is instinct with noisy animal life.

After two hours' walk, Martin and his companion reached the lake, and
here active preparations were making for the alligator hunt.

"Is that the only place ye have to spind the night in, Sambo?" said
Barney to their conductor, as he pointed to a wooden shed near which some
fifteen or twenty Negro slaves were overhauling the fishing tackle.

"Yis, massa," answered the black, showing his white teeth; "dat is de
bottle of dis great city." Sambo could speak a little English, having
wrought for several years on the coffee plantation of a Yankee settler.
He was a bit of a wag, too, much to the indignation of his grave master,
the Senhor Antonio, who abhorred jesting.

"Ye're too cliver, avic," said Barney, with a patronizing smile; "take
care ye don't use up yer intellect too fast. It hurts the constitution in
the long-run."

"I say, Barney," cried Martin, who had gone ahead of his companions,
"come here, man, and just look at this pond. It's literally crammed full
of alligators."

"Musha, but there's more alligators than wather, I belave!"
exclaimed Barney.

The pond was indeed swarming with these ferocious reptiles, which were
constantly thrusting their ugly snouts above the surface and then
disappearing with a flourish of their powerful tails. During the rainy
season this lake was much larger, and afforded ample room for its
inhabitants; but at the height of the dry season, which it was at this
time, there was little water, and it was much overstocked. When
alligators are thus put upon short allowance of water, they frequently
bury themselves in the wet mud, and lie dormant for a long time, while
the water continues to retire and leaves them buried. But when the first
shower of the rainy season falls, they burst open their tomb and drag
their dry bodies to the lake or river on whose margin they went to sleep.

An hour or two later the Senhor Antonio arrived; but as it was getting
dark, nothing could be done until the following morning; so they slung
their hammocks under the wooden shed on the margin of the lake, and, in
order to save themselves as much as possible from the bites of the
tormenting mosquitoes, went to sleep with their heads tied up in their
handkerchiefs, and their hands thrust into their breeches pockets! The
occasional splash and snort of contending alligators, about twenty yards
off, varied the monotony of the hours of darkness, while the frogs and
cranes and jaguars sang their lullaby.




CHAPTER XVI

AN ALLIGATOR HUNT--REMARKABLE EXPLOSIONS--THE RAINY SEASON USHERED IN BY
AN AWFUL RESURRECTION


At sunrise an expressive shout in Portuguese set the black slaves on
their feet; and, after a hasty breakfast of alligator-tail and farina,
they commenced operations. Alligator-tail is by no means bad food, and
after the first mouthful,--taken with hesitation and swallowed with
difficulty,--Martin and Barney both pronounced it "capital." Sambo, who
had cooked the delicate morsel, and stood watching them, smacked his lips
and added, "Fuss rate."

All being now ready for the hunt, a number of Negroes entered the
water, which was nowhere very deep, with long poles in their hands.
This appeared to Martin and Barney a very reckless and dangerous thing
to do, as no doubt it was. Nevertheless accidents, they were told, very
rarely happened.

Sambo, who was the overseer of the party, was the first to dash up to the
middle in the water. "Hi," exclaimed that dingy individual, making a
torrent of remarks in Portuguese, while he darted his long pole hither
and thither; then, observing that Martin and Barney were gazing at him
open mouthed, he shouted, "Look out, boys! here Jim comes! Take care, ole
feller, or he jump right down you' throat! hi-i-i!"

As he spoke, a large alligator, having been rudely stirred up from his
muddy bed, floundered on the surface of the lake and Sambo instantly
gave it a thump over the back and a blow under the ribs; which had the
effect of driving it in the direction of the shore. Here a number of
Negroes were ready for him; and the moment he came within reach, a coil
of rope with a noose on the end of it, called a lasso, was adroitly
thrown over the reptile's head: ten or twelve men then hauled the lasso
and dragged it ashore amid shouts of triumph. This alligator was twenty
feet long, with an enormous misshapen head and fearful rows of teeth
that were terrible to behold. The monster did not submit to be captured,
however, without a struggle; and the Negroes grew wild with excitement
as they yelled and leaped madly about seeking to avoid its dangerous
jaws and the blows of its powerful tail. After some trouble, a second
lasso was thrown over the tail, which was thus somewhat restrained in
its movements; and Sambo, approaching cautiously with an axe, cut a deep
gash just at the root of that formidable appendage, which rendered it
harmless. "Hi-i," shouted Sambo in triumph, as he sprang towards the
animal's head, and inflicted a similar gash in the neck; "dare, you
quite finish, ole feller."

"Musha but that's thrue!" ejaculated Barney, who stood staring at the
whole proceeding like one in a trance. "Did ye iver git a bite, Sambo?"

Barney received no answer, for his sable friend was already up to his
waist in the water with five or six of his brethren, who were flourishing
their long poles and driving the snorting alligators towards the shore,
where their comrades, with lassos and harpoons, awaited them. Sometimes
they harpooned the alligators, and then, fastening lassos to their heads
and tails, or to a hind leg, dragged them ashore; at other times they
threw the lasso over their heads at once, without taking the trouble to
harpoon them. It was a terrible and a wonderful sight to witness the
Negroes in the very midst of a shoal of these creatures, any one of which
could have taken a man into his jaws quite easily,--whence, once between
these long saw-like rows of teeth, no man could have escaped to tell how
sharp they were. The creatures were so numerous that it was impossible to
thrust a pole into the mud without stirring up one of them; but they were
so terrified at the sudden attack and the shouts of the Negroes, that
they thought only of escape.

Suddenly there arose a great cry. One of the lassos had snapt, and the
alligator was floundering back into the water, when Sambo rushed in up to
the arm-pits, and caught the end of the rope. At the same moment two
alligators made at the Negro with open jaws. It is probable that the
animals went in his direction by mere accident, and would have brushed
past him in blind haste; but to Martin and Barney it seemed as if the
poor man's fate were sealed, and they uttered a loud shout of horror as
they bounded simultaneously into the water, not knowing what to do, but
being unable to restrain the impulse to spring to Sambo's aid.
Fortunately, however, one of the other Negroes was near Sambo. He sprang
forward, and dealt the alligators two tremendous blows with his pole on
their snouts, right and left, which turned them off. Then other Negroes
came up, laid hold of Sambo, who would not let go his hold and was being
dragged into deep water, caught the end of the rope, and in ten minutes
hauled their victim to the shore, when it was quickly despatched in the
usual manner.

By this time about a dozen alligators, varying from ten to twenty feet in
length, had been captured; and Barney at length became so bold that he
requested to be allowed to try his hand at throwing the lasso, the
dexterous use of which by the Negroes had filled him with admiration. A
loud burst of laughter greeted this proposal, and Sambo showed a set of
teeth that might have made even the alligators envious, as he handed the
Irishman a coil of line.

"Now don't miss, Barney," cried Martin, laughing heartily, as his comrade
advanced to the edge of the lake and watched his opportunity. "Mind, your
credit as an expert hunter is at stake."

The Senhor Antonio stood close behind the Irishman, with his arms folded
and a sarcastic smile on his countenance.

"Don't send it down him's throat," yelled Sambo. "Hi-i; dat's de vay to
swing urn round. Stir um up, boys!--poke um up, villains, hi!"

The Negroes in the water obeyed with frantic glee, and the terrified
monsters surged about in all directions, so that Barney found it almost
impossible to fix his attention on any particular individual. At length
he made up his mind, whirled the coil round his head, discharged the
noose, caught the Senhor Antonio round the neck, and jerked him violently
to the ground!

There was a simultaneous pause of horror among the slaves; but it was too
much for their risible faculties to withstand; with one accord they
rushed howling into the water to conceal their laughter, and began to
stir up and belabour the alligators with their poles, until the surface
of the lake was a sheet of foam.

Meanwhile the Senhor Antonio sprang to his feet and began to bluster
considerably in Portuguese; but poor Barney seemed awfully crest-fallen,
arid the deep concern which wrinkled his face, and the genuine regret
that sounded in the tones of his voice, at length soothed the indignant
Brazilian, who frowned gravely, and waving his hand, as if to signify
that Barney had his forgiveness, he stalked up to the shed, lighted a
cigarito, and lay down in his hammock.

"Well!" said Martin, in an under-tone, "you did it that time, Barney.
I verily thought the old fellow was hanged. He became quite livid in
the face."

"Och! bad luck to the lasso, say I. May I niver more see the swate groves
o' Killarney if iver I meddle with wan again."

"Hi-i; you is fuss rate," said Sambo, as he and his comrades returned and
busied themselves in cutting up the dead alligators. "You beat de Niggers
all to not'ing. Not any of dis yere chiles eber lasso Sen'or Antonio yet;
no, neber!"

It was some time before the Negroes could effectually subdue their
merriment, but at length they succeeded, and applied themselves
vigorously to the work of cutting out the fat. The alligators were all
cut open,--a work of no small difficulty, owing to the hard scales
which covered them as with coats of mail; then the fat, which
accumulates in large quantities about the intestines, was cut out and
made up into packets in the skins of the smaller ones, which were taken
off for this purpose.

These packets were afterwards carried to the Senhor's dwelling, and the
fat melted down into oil, which served for burning in lamps quite as well
as train oil. The flesh of a smaller species of alligator, some of which
were also taken, is considered excellent food; and, while the Negroes
were engaged in their work, Barney made himself useful by kindling a
large fire and preparing a savoury dish for "all hands," plentifully
seasoned with salt and pepper, with which condiments the country is well
supplied, and of which the people are exceedingly fond.

There was also caught in this lake a large species of fish called
pirarucu, which, strangely enough, found it possible to exist in spite of
alligators. They were splendid creatures, from five to six feet long, and
covered with large scales more than an inch in diameter, which were
beautifully marked and spotted with red. These fish were most delicately
flavoured, and Barney exerted his talents to the utmost in order to do
them justice. Martin also did his best to prove himself a willing and
efficient assistant, and cleaned and washed the pirarucu steaks and the
junks of alligator-tail to admiration. In short, the exertions of the two
strangers in this way quite won the hearts of the Negroes, and after
dinner the Senhor Antonio had quite recovered his good humour.

While staying at this place Martin had an opportunity of seeing a great
variety of the curious fish with which the Amazon is stocked. These are
so numerous that sometimes, when sailing up stream with a fair wind, they
were seen leaping all round the canoe in shoals, so that it was only
necessary to strike the water with the paddles in order to kill a few.

The peixe boi, or cow-fish, is one of the most curious of the inhabitants
of the Amazon. It is about six feet long, and no less than five feet in
circumference at its thickest part. It is a perfectly smooth, and what we
may call _dumpy_ fish, of a leaden colour, with a semi-circular flat
tail, and a large mouth with thick fleshy lips resembling those of a cow.
There are stiff bristles on the lips, and a few scattered hairs over the
body. It has two fins just behind the head; and below these, in the
females, there are two breasts, from which good white milk flows when
pressure is applied. The cow-fish feeds on grass at the borders of rivers
and lakes; and when suckling its young it carries it in its fins or
flippers, and clasps the little one to its breast, just as a mother
clasps her baby! It is harpooned and taken for the sake of its fat, from
which oil is made. The flesh is also very good, resembling beef in
quality, and it was much relished by Martin and Barney, who frequently
dined on beef-steaks cut from this remarkable cow-fish.

There was also another fish which surprised our adventurers not a little
the first time they met with it. One evening Senhor Antonio had ordered
a net to be thrown into the river, being desirous of procuring a few
fresh fish for the use of his establishment. The Indians and Negroes
soon after commenced dragging, and in a few minutes afterwards the sandy
bank of the river was strewn with an immense variety of small fish,
among which were a few of a larger kind. Martin and Barney became
excited as they saw them leaping and spluttering about, and ran in
amongst them to assist in gathering them into baskets. But scarcely had
the latter advanced a few steps when there was a loud report, as if a
pistol had gone off under his feet.

"Hallo!" exclaimed the Irishman, leaping two feet into the air. On his
reaching the ground again, a similar explosion occurred, and Barney
dashed aside, overturning Martin in his haste. Martin's heel caught on a
stone, and he fell flat on the ground, when instantly there was a report
as if he had fallen upon and burst an inflated paper bag. The natives
laughed loud and long, while the unfortunate couple sprang up the bank,
half inclined to think that an earthquake was about to take place. The
cause of their fright was then pointed out. It was a species of small
fish which has the power of inflating the fore part of its body into a
complete ball, and which, when stamped upon, explodes with a loud noise.
There were great numbers of these scattered among the other fish, and
also large quantities of a little fish armed with long spines, which
inflict a serious wound when trodden upon.

At this place adventures on a small scale crowded upon our travellers
so thickly that Martin began to look upon sudden surprises as a
necessary of life, and Barney said that "if it wint on any longer he
feared his eye-brows would get fixed near the top of his he

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