The Golden Magnet
by George Manville Fenn · English · Gutenberg #24909 · 552,661 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Golden Magnet
Author: George Manville Fenn
Release date: March 24, 2008 [eBook #24909]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24909
Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN MAGNET ***
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Golden Magnet, by George Manville Fenn.
________________________________________________________________________
Books by George Manville Fenn are full of dreadful situations which the
reader cannot see the way out of. This one is no exception, in fact we
would easily say that it is one of his best.
Harry goes adventuring, and with him goes Tom, a young worker at Harry's
father's soap-boiling factory. Tom is wonderful. He gets Harry out of
numerous dire situations, and the book would not work without him. He
is down-to-earth, and full of commonsense and energy.
Despite all sorts of adverse conditions and persons, they get the gold,
and put everybody's affairs to rights, killing the villain, of course,
on the way. And marrying the heroine, even though she is his first
cousin.
A good example of a late nineteenth century teenager's book, and if you
like that sort of thing you will enjoy it too, for it is what used to be
called a crackingly good yarn.
________________________________________________________________________
THE GOLDEN MAGNET, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
INTRODUCTORY.
Daybreak in the Incas' realm on the far western shores, known to our
fathers as the great wonderland--the great country discovered by
adventurous mariners, and thought of, dreamed of, seen through a golden
mist raised by the imagination--a mist which gave to everything its own
peculiar hue; and hence the far-off land was whispered of as "El
Dorado," the gilded, "the Golden Americas," and the country whose rivers
ran over golden sand, whose rocks were veined with the coveted ore; and
nations vied with each other in seeking to humble the haughty Spaniard,
whose enterprise had gained him the strongest footing in the coveted
region.
Daybreak at Tehutlan, the Incas' city, in the year 1533, and the peaks
of the mighty mountains that appeared to pierce the bright blue sky,
appearing to bear out the fabulous belief of the eastern lands, for
their icy summits glowed, and flushed, and sparkled in the rays of the
sun, which gilded every pinnacle and turned each glacier into a river of
gold, seeming to flow slowly downwards towards the vales and plains of
the Andes, as yet flooded with the darkness of the night.
But soon the purple flood of darkness began to give place to golden
light, as, still streaming down, as it were, from the mountain tops, the
sunshine leaped in bright cataracts from point to point, rushing up this
dark gully, that vast fissure, turning gloom into glowing landscape, and
at last filling the vast vales with gladness and life, as the glowing
picture burst into full beauty.
Here, at the foot of the mountains, flowed the mighty rivers of South
America, bordered by the vast, eternal tropic forest, with its dank,
steaming moisture--the home of the fierce beast, the loathsome reptile,
and insect plagues innumerable. Far up the mountains was the land of
ice and snow, fierce biting wind, and sleety tempest, with here and
there patches of verdure, the pastoral land of the vicuna and llama
flocks; but in the intermediate space, balanced, as it were, between the
tropical heat and the wintry frosts, on the table-lands half-way up the
mountains, was the stronghold of the Peruvian civilisation. So near to
the equator that intolerable heat might have been expected, an
expectation, though, not fulfilled, for the elevation gave to the
Peruvians a glorious climate, with all the brightness but none of the
enervation of equatorial land.
Cottage, house, and palace, of no mean construction, were scattered here
and there, the homes of peasant and Peruvian noble. But it was upon the
temple crowning a near elevation that the eye would rest, in rapt
astonishment at its magnificence and grandeur. The description may
sound like a scrap from some eastern fable, but none the less it is a
fact culled from the pages of history.
For as that bright morning sun peered at length above the shoulder of an
eastern hill, it was to shine full upon the Temple of the Sun and its
glorious gardens.
Gold--gold everywhere--gold and precious stones. Fronting the great
entrance, and ready to receive its first beams, was a golden
representation of the sun itself--a vast golden face surrounded by rays
stretching out in every direction--vast, massive, and glowing
effulgently, reflecting back the sun's rays, and lighting the interior
of the gold-decked temple.
For there was no paltry gilding here, but massive golden cornice,
frieze, plate, stud, and boss ornamenting the massive walls--glistening,
sparkling, and flashing back the sun's light, while, as if these were
not sufficient, emeralds and other precious stones were lavishly spread
in further ornamentation, adding their lustrous sheen to the warm glow
already diffused through the magnificent building. Flash, sparkle--
glistening streams of golden light, dancing like golden water upon the
gorgeous walls, gilding even those who entered, so that face and
garments were bathed and dyed in the glorious radiance, till the eye of
the beholder ached, and the darkened intellects of the simple Peruvians
might well believe that they were in the presence of the sun-god
himself.
But not only was gold lavished upon the stone building, even to adorning
its outer walls with a broad belt of the precious metal--solid, massive,
and magnificently wrought; but the implements and vessels of the temple
were of the yellow treasure. Huge vases stood upon the floor filled
with the produce of their land--offerings to the sun; perfume-censers,
water-cruses, cistern-pipes, reservoirs, all were of the rich, ruddy
metal.
The Peruvians called the ore in their language of imagery "the tears
wept by the sun;" and these tears they toiled to gather, and their
artificers worked them up with a cunning skill under the direction of
the priests; and, as if to complete the wonders of the temple, and to
give it adornments that should never lose their lustre, never fade, it
was surrounded by an Aladdin-like garden whose plants were gold--golden
of leaf, silver of stem, and with flowers sparkling in combinations of
the two metals. Fountains of gold cast up golden water to fall back in
golden basins--a mimic spray; and even then fresh objects of the
goldsmith's skill were seen in the golden-fleeced llamas grouped around.
But the glory of the Incas was passing. After a long period of
prosperity the evil days were at hand, the wondrous barbaric
civilisation was about to be swept away; for the adventurous Spaniard,
moved by his thirst for the gold, of whose existence rumour had from
time to time told him, was now in the land. The simple people, coasting
along in their light balsas or rafts, had seen the coming of what to
them were then wondrous ships, cock-boats, though, as compared even to
our collier brigs. War and rapine were in the land; the arms of the
Spaniards--the thunder and lightning they bore with them in their guns--
were everywhere victorious, and the riches of the temples were seized;
gloriously wrought vessels were hastily molten down into ingots, along
with plate, shield, and wonderfully-worked flowers; rapacity was
triumphant, and upon one occasion the value of the treasure collected
and melted down into bars was computed at three millions and a half
pounds sterling of our money.
The temples and their adornments were many and held sacred by the
people, a sanctity they had ventured to hope would be observed by the
conquerors; but the delusion was of short duration. The coming of a
body of Spaniards was the signal for the stripping of each gorgeous
building. Sacred vessel and ornament were seized upon and borne off;
but the news was spread from temple to temple, from priest to priest,
through the length and breadth of the land by means of swift-footed
couriers, not by written letter, neither by word of mouth, but by means
of a fringe of cords tied in knots, each knot and its place having its
particular signification.
The alarm spread, and the day of evil being upon them--their sun-gods
giving no sign of crushing the profane intruders--the priests looked
upon it as a sign of wrath and punishment; and sooner than their
treasure should fall into the hands of the fierce, remorseless
conquerors, eagerly stripped their temples themselves, and in remote
hiding-places, with many a mysterious rite, re-committed the gold to its
parent earth, binding all who beheld by the most fearful bonds never to
reveal the treasure-places to the conquerors, but to wait for the great
day when the ancient glory of Peru should be revived, when the Incas
should reign once more, and their religion flourish, ere the sacred
treasures were disinterred.
But that day came not. European civilisation began to take the place of
that of the Incas, a new form of religion flourished, and from being
monarchs in the country the Peruvians became the slaves, the hewers of
wood and drawers of water of a new race. Generations came and
generations died out, and the years still rolled on till ages passed
away; but though poor and degraded, the priestly caste existed still
amongst the Indians, and from father to son was the great secret handed
down in village after village, the idea of appropriating to their own
use the buried treasures never once being dreamed of; but, with the
wealth of princes scattered here and there throughout the country, the
Indians watched over the treasures still, and handed down the secret to
their children.
Some were discovered by stratagem, others by treachery, others, again,
by accident; and while the exact bearings of the places were mostly well
remembered, others died out of the memory of those to whose trust they
had been committed, or in some cases died with them. But to this day it
is believed that vast stores of the precious metal still lie waiting the
hand of the discoverer, the barbaric relics of a fierce and bloody
religion, the creed of an idolatrous people; and many an explorer
unrewarded has wasted his days amidst the traces of the ruined temples
and tokens of a grand civilisation, scattered here and there amidst the
forests and mountain fastnesses of the mighty Andes.
CHAPTER TWO.
AFTER THREE AGES.
Perhaps it was with reading _Robinson Crusoe_ and _Sindbad the Sailor_--
I don't know, but I always did have a hankering after going abroad.
Twopence was generally the extent of my supply of hard cash, so I used
to get dreaming about gold, and to think that I had only to be wrecked
upon some rocky shore to find the remains of a Spanish galleon freighted
with gold in doubloons, and bars, and ingots, a prize to which I could
lay claim, and be rich for ever after.
Now, with such ideas as these in my head, I ask anybody, was it likely
that I could take to soap-boiling?
That was my father's business, and he was very proud of his best and
second quality yellow, and his prime hard mottled. He had made a
comfortable living out of it, as his father and grandfather had before
him, helping to cleanse no end of people in their time; but I thought
then, as I think now, that it was a nasty unpleasant business, whose
odour is in my nostrils to the present day.
"You're no good, Harry," said my father, "not a bit, and unless you sink
that tin-pot pride of yours, and leave off wandering about and wearing
out your boots, and take off your coat and go to work, you'll never get
a living. You've always got your nose stuck in a book--such trash! Do
you ever see me over a book unless it's a daybook or ledger, eh?"
My father had no sooner done speaking than my mother shook her head at
me, and I went and stood out in the yard, leaning my back up against one
of the great tallow hogsheads, and thought.
It only took me five minutes to make up my mind, for the simple reason
that it was already seven-eighths on the way, this not being the first
time by many a score that my father had given me his opinion respecting
my future prospects in life; and as I neared twenty such opinions used
to seem to grit in amongst my mental works, while the longer I lived the
more I thought that I should never get my livelihood by soap-boiling.
Well, my mind was made up most stubbornly that I would go out to Uncle
Reuben.
Just then, as I stood moodily there, I heard the sound of a scuffle and
a sharp smack, and directly after, one of our lads, a young fellow of my
own age Tom Bulk by name, came hurriedly out of the kitchen door,
rubbing the side of his red face, but only to drop his hand the moment
he caught sight of me leaning against the tallow-tub.
"What's the matter, Tom?" I said, though I knew well enough that Tom
was in hot water.
"Got a flea in my ear, Mas'r Harry," he said, with a grin of vexation.
"I caught it in the kitchen."
"So have I, Tom," I said bitterly; "but I caught mine in the parlour."
"Mas'r been rowing you agen, sir?"
"Yes, Tom," I said drearily, "and it's for the last time. If I'm no
good I may as well be off. I can't take to our business."
"Well, tain't so sweet as it used to be, sir; and it don't seem right
that, to make other folks clean, we should allers be in a greasy mess.
But what are you going to do, Mas'r Harry?" he said anxiously.
"Going abroad, Tom."
"So am I, Mas'r Harry."
"You, Tom?"
"Sure I am, Mas'r Harry, if you are," said Tom; and then and there he
pulled off his great, greasy leather apron and soapy white slop, and
fetched his shiny jacket out of the boiling-house. "I'm ready, Mas'r
Harry," he exclaimed, as he fought hard to get one arm properly into his
sleeve, but had to try again and again, because the button was off the
wristband of his shirt, and the sleeve kept slipping up to his shoulder,
necessitating a fresh attempt.
I burst out laughing at him, as I saw the earnest way in which he took
my announcement; but the more I laughed the more solid Tom became, as he
worked his body into his old coat, and then proceeded to button it right
up to the chin, slapping himself several times upon the chest to settle
a wrinkle here and there, and ending by spitting in his hands, and
looking at me as much as to say, "Where's boxes, Mas'r Harry? Let's be
off."
"Watcher larfin' at, Mas'r Harry?" he said at last.
"At you, Tom," I replied.
"All right, Mas'r Harry," he replied in the most philosophical way,
"larfin' don't cost nothing, and it's very pleasant, and it don't matter
when it's them as you know; but when it comes to somebody you don't
know, why then it riles."
I turned serious on the instant.
"Do you know what you are talking about, Tom?" I said.
"Sure I do, Mas'r Harry. Talkin' 'bout going abroad."
"But where?"
"I d'know, Mas'r Harry; only it's along o' you."
"But, my good fellow," I said, "perhaps I'm about to do very wrong in
going."
"Then, p'r'aps I am, Mas'r Harry," he replied, "and that don't matter."
"But it might be the ruin of your prospects, Tom."
"Ruin o' my prospecks!" cried Tom. "Hark at him!" and he seemed to be
addressing a pile of chests. "Don't see as there's much prospeck in
looking down into a taller tub. I could do that anywheres."
"But you don't understand me, Tom," I cried.
"Don't want to, Mas'r Harry," he said. "I know as I'm allers gettin' my
face slapped when I go into the kitchen; that I always get the smell o'
the tallow in my nose and can't get it out; and that I hate soap to such
an extent that I wouldn't care if I never touched a bit again."
"Oh, but you'll get on here, Tom, in time, and perhaps rise to be
foreman."
"No, I sha'n't, Mas'r Harry, 'cause I'm coming along with you."
"But don't you see that I am going to a place where it would not be
suitable for you."
"What's sootable for you, Mas'r Harry, would be just as sootable for me,
and I'd work like one of the niggers out there, only harder."
"Niggers out where, Tom?"
"Where we're going, Mas'r Harry."
"How do you know there are any niggers where we are going, sir?"
"Oh, there's sure to be, Mas'r Harry. There's niggers everywheres, I've
heerd tell."
"Oh, but really, Tom," I said, "it is all nonsense. Look here, I'm
going out to join my uncle in South America."
"South America, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom eagerly. "Why, that's just the
very place I want to go to."
"I don't believe it, Tom," I said sharply. "If I had told you I was
going to South Australia, you would have said just the same."
"Dessay I should, Mas'r Harry," he replied grinning.
"Well now, look here, Tom," I continued very seriously, "I am going out
to join my uncle, and if I get on, and can see that there is a good
chance for you out there, why, I'll send you word, and you can join me."
"No, you won't, Mas'r Harry," he said quietly.
"But I promise you that I will."
"No, you won't, Mas'r Harry."
"Don't you believe my word, Tom?"
"I believe that you believe you mean me to believe, Mas'r Harry," he
said; "but I don't mean you to go without me, and so I tell you. There
wouldn't be no getting on without me alongside o' you, that there
wouldn't, and I'm going along with you."
"What are you two quarrelling about?" said my father, coming up just
then.
"We were not quarrelling, father," I replied, snatching at the
opportunity to lay bare my plans now that I was a little excited, for I
had been rather nervous about how my proposals would be taken.
"Mas'r Harry's going out foreign abroad," said Tom sturdily; "and he
said I warn't to go with him, and I said I would, sir--that's all."
"Oh, he's going abroad, is he?" said my father.
"Yes, sir," I replied, "I have made up mind to go and see if Uncle
Reuben can find me anything to do."
"I hope you don't think that you are going to lead a life of idleness
out there, sir?"
"Oh no, sir," I replied, "I mean to work."
"Then why don't you work here?" said my father.
"Because I hate the trade so, sir."
"Nice clean business too," said my father; "makes clean money, and
keeps people clean. I suppose you know it's horribly hot out there?"
"Not so hot as in our boiling-house, sir," I replied.
"Humph!" said my father; and then, without another word, he walked back
into the house.
"I _am_ glad," cried Tom, rubbing his hands together softly. "What a
time of it we shall have, Mas'r Harry!"
It was my turn now to be silent, and I stood watching Tom, and thinking
as I struggled with myself that it would, after all, be very pleasant to
have a sturdy trustworthy fellow like Tom always at my back when I was
in a strange land. For I had read that the descendants of the old
Spaniards in South America were courtly noble-looking gentlemen enough,
but were bitter and revengeful, and not always disposed to look with
favour upon Englishmen. How did I know but in my fortune-seeking
adventures--for truly enough I meant to go out to seek my fortune--I
might make enemies, and be sometime or another in danger. Then how good
it would be to have such a henchman as Tom at my side.
My thoughts were very visionary, of course, for I could not foresee the
strange adventures through which I should have to go; and for the moment
I was about to turn sharp round on Tom, and shake hands and say, "That's
right, Tom, we will go out and carve our fortunes together." But I
checked myself directly, as I thought of my position.
For how was I to take out with me what to all intents and purposes would
be a servant, when the probabilities were that I should hardly have the
money to pay my own passage to the far-off land?
I was interrupted in my thoughts by Tom, who turned to me and said,
"Give me your knife, Mas'r Harry, and I'll give it a good sharp up along
o' mine. There's nothing like having a good keen knife in your pocket
when you're going travelling, so they say."
"Very true, Tom," I cried laughing; "are you really in earnest over
this?"
"Really in earnest, Mas'r Harry? Why, I never felt so earnest before in
my life. To be sure I am, I want to see a bit o' the world."
"Very well then, Tom," I replied; "you will have a hard lot to share
with me, but share it you shall if you like."
"I don't want to share or anything of the kind," said Tom gruffly.
"You're young master, and I'm only lad. I know what I am and what I'm
fit for well enough, Mas'r Harry, so don't you get talking no more about
sharing danger, because it won't do."
"Oh, very well, Tom, we won't quarrel about that."
"That's right then, Mas'r Harry; so now give us hold of your knife."
I gave him my knife, in a thoughtful way, and he took it, opened it, and
examined its edge.
"Blunt as a butter knife, Mas'r Harry," he cried. "And now, when do we
start?"
"Start, Tom?" I cried laughing. "Oh, it is not like going to London,
we must make a great many preparations first, for it's a long journey."
"Is it?" he said. "Two or three hundred miles, Mas'r Harry?"
"A good deal more than two or three thousand, Tom," I replied.
"Oh, all right, Mas'r Harry. I don't mind how far it is, as long as we
keep together. My word an' honour, won't it be different to making best
yaller and mottled and cutting it into bars?"
"Different, Tom?" I said dreamily. "Yes, my lad, it will indeed."
CHAPTER THREE.
I COME TO AN UNDERSTANDING WITH MY FATHER.
I believe I lay in bed that night with my eyes wide open, seeing, as if
in a waking dream, the whole of the eventful life I had pictured out for
myself--a glorious career of adventure in a land of imaginary beauties--
a land built up out of recollections of Robinson Crusoe's island, _Sir
Edward Seaward's narrative, The Conquest of Peru_, and _The Lives of the
Buccaneers_, with a little _Arabian Nights' Entertainments_ dashed in by
way of pickles or spice. All these formed themselves into a glowing
series of scenes--a sort of panorama of the future, and I lay and
watched in imagination the glorious prospect of river and forest,
mountain and plain, where I was going to win fame and fortune, in a
series of wonderful adventures, such as had never before fallen to the
lot of man.
You will not be surprised to hear that I got up the next morning
feverish and unrefreshed, and I felt quite envious of Tom when I saw him
holding his shortly-cropped bullet head under the spout of the pump in
the back yard, waggling the handle awkwardly as he had what he called "a
sloosh."
For he looked so hale and hearty and fresh, as he looked up on hearing
my step, and cried out to me--
"Lay hold o' the pump-handle, Mas'r Harry, and work it up and down a
bit, it's awkward to do all by yourself."
I felt quite spiteful as I took hold of the polished old handle and
worked at it, meaning to give Tom a regular ducking; and I sent the pure
cold well-water gushing out as he held his head under, letting the
stream come first upon his poll, then upon one ear, then upon the other,
and backing away at last to where he had hung his rough towel upon a
hook in the wall, to seize it and begin to scrub.
"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, it's 'evinly," he panted, as he rubbed away.
"Just you try it. Seems to make the strength go rattling through you
like. Have a go: I'll pump."
I hesitated for a moment, and then, feeling that the cold shock would
perhaps clear my heated brain, I threw off my cap and necktie, stripped
my jacket from my shoulders, and, rolling up my sleeves, thrust my head
under the spout, and the next moment was panting and gasping, and
feeling half drowned and confused, as Tom sent the water streaming out
with liberal hand.
"Now then, what Tom-fool's game's this?" said a voice, as I withdrew my
head and held out my hand for the towel; "washing the folly out of your
head, Harry?"
"No, father," I said quietly, as I rubbed away, feeling a refreshing
glow thrill through me as the reaction set in. "I was trying to freshen
myself up after lying awake all night thinking of my future."
"Then you are still harping on that project?" he said quickly.
"Yes, sir; I have quite made up my mind to go."
"What, and leave a quiet sensible business in search of a mare's nest?"
"Don't be angry with me, father," I said. "I know all about the
business, and what a struggle you have had for years just to get a bare
living."
"Well, boy, that's true," he said with a sigh.
"I know, too, how things are getting worse and worse, and that the large
London works and competition make the business poorer every year."
"They do, my lad, they do," he said more quietly. "But I had hoped that
you would grow into a clever industrious man, and set the poor old
business on its legs again."
"I'd try and be clever, father," I replied, "and I know I could be
industrious, but my two arms would be of no use to contend against
machinery and steam."
He shook his head.
"I've thought about it for long enough now, father," I said; "and I can
see well enough that there's no chance of improving our little business
without capital, and that if that is not to be had it must get smaller
and smaller every day."
"Why, Harry, my boy," he said, as we strolled down now into our bit of
garden, "I didn't think you could see so far into a millstone as that."
"Oh, father!" I cried warmly, "do you think I have never felt miserable
and discouraged to see what a fight it has been with you to make up your
payments month after month?"
"I never thought you gave a bit of heed to it, my lad," he said warmly,
as he held out his hand, and took mine in a hearty grip. "I've
misjudged you, my boy; I've misjudged you. I didn't think you had so
much thought."
"Oh, father!" I cried, "why, all my wandering thoughts have had the aim
of getting on in life, and for a long time past it has seemed to me that
England's growing too full of people fighting against one another for a
living; and I felt that some of us must go out and try afresh in another
place."
"Like the bees do, when they swarm, my lad," said my father, looking
down at one of the old straw hives, with its pan turned over the top to
keep off the rain. "Well, perhaps you're right, Harry--perhaps you are
right. I won't fight against it, my boy. I only wish you luck."
"Father!" I cried, and I was about to say something else, but it would
not come, try how I would; and I stood there holding by his hand in the
garden, while he looked me in the face with a calmer, more gentle look
than I had seen in his eyes for some time past.
He was the first to break the silence, and then he clapped me on the
shoulder in a hearty, friendly way.
"There's mother making signs that breakfast's ready, my boy. Come along
in."
We went in and took our places at the table so quietly that my mother's
hands began to tremble so much that she could hardly pour out the tea.
"What have you been doing, Harry, to make father so cross?" she said at
last.
"Nay, nay, mother, nothing at all," said my father quickly. "It's all
right. Harry and I have been coming to a bit of an understanding--
that's all. We haven't been quarrelling a bit."
"Are you sure, dear?" said my mother dubiously.
"Sure? ay!" cried my father. "Why, Harry and I were never better
friends."
"Indeed, no," I cried excitedly.
"You are both keeping something back from me," she cried, with her hands
trembling and the tears coming into her eyes.
"Oh, no, we won't keep anything back from you, mother," said my father
kindly. "Harry and I have been talking about his plans."
"Not for going away?" said my mother; "don't say that."
"But I must say it," said my father. "Harry is quite right. I didn't
like it at first; but, as he says, there are too many of us here, and he
is going to seek his fortune in a foreign land."
"Oh, my boy, my boy!" she cried.
"Same as your brother Reuben did," said my father. "Come, come, old
lady, courage! We must look this sort of thing in the face."
"And I'll go out there, mother and see if Uncle Reuben will help me. If
he can't, I'll try for myself, for I will get on; and some day, if I
don't come back a rich man, I'll come back with a sufficiency to make
the old age of both you and my father comfortable. Trust me, I will."
For some few minutes there was very little breakfast eaten; but at last
my father roused us up, talking quite cheerfully, and evidently trying
to reconcile my mother to my going, and then we went on with the meal.
"So Tom wants to go with you, does he?" said my father. "Well, he's a
good, hard-headed sort of fellow, and likes you, Harry. He'd better
go."
"But isn't he likely to lead poor Harry into mischief?" said my mother.
"No; he's more likely to act as ballast and keep him from capsizing if
he carries too much sail. Tom's all right."
My mother accepted the inevitable in a very short time, and soon began
to talk as mothers do--that is to say, homely mothers--for almost as
soon as she had wiped her eyes she exclaimed--
"Why, Harry, my dear, you must have at least six new shirts."
"Must I, mother?" I said smiling.
"Yes, my son, and of the best and strongest stuff. I'm glad to say that
I've just finished a couple of pairs of strongly-knitted stockings."
And from that hour, I believe, my mother was happy in her task of
getting ready my sea-chest, putting in no end of pleasant little
surprises for me, to be ready when I was in the far-off land.
Tom, too, was not forgotten, poor fellow, for he had no one to take
tender notice of him.
"And it don't matter a bit, Mas'r Harry," he cried cheerily, "I don't
want a lot o' things. One clean shirt and a pocket-comb--that's about
all a chap like me wants."
But he was better provided than that, and at last, before a couple of
months had passed away, our farewells were said and we started for
Liverpool, in low spirits with our partings, but full of hope and eager
ambition, since at the great western port we were to take our passage in
one of the great steamers for the West Indies, where we would have to
change into a smaller trading vessel which would take us on to Caracas.
"No soap-boiling out there, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom cheerily; and he
gave a long sniff as if to get some of the familiar old smell into his
nose.
"No, Tom," I replied quietly. "We are going to begin a new life now;"
for the future looked to me a far more serious affair than I had
imagined before in the midst of my sanguine aspirations and rather wild
and dreamy ideas.
CHAPTER FOUR.
TOM CATCHES THE COMPLAINT.
"Oh, my eye, Mas'r Harry! Dear heart, dear heart, how bad I do feel!"
"Why, you kept laughing at me, you wretch," I said, as I rejoiced at
Tom's downfall.
"_Surely_, so I did, Mas'r Harry--I did, I did--but I didn't think it
was half so--so bad as this here. Oh, my eye! how badly I do feel!"
"You old humbug, you!" I cried in my triumph, for I was getting over my
troubles, "sneered and jeered and pooh-poohed it all, you did, Tom, and
now it has you by the hip at last."
"No, it hasn't, Mas'r Harry," he groaned. "It aren't the hip, it's more
in the middle. Oh, my eye! how ill I am!"
"I'm precious glad of it, Tom," I said.
"Well, I do call that cowardly, Mas'r Harry--I do really," groaned
Tom--"'specially as you wasn't half so bad as I am."
"Why, I was ten times worse, Tom," I cried.
"Oh, Mas'r Harry! don't say that," groaned the poor fellow, "because
it's unpossible. If--Oh, my eye! how ill I do feel!--if you'd been ten
times as bad as I am, you'd have died ten times over. Oh, dear! oh,
dear! How is it the doctors can't cure this horrid--? Oh, dear me! how
ill I do feel!"
It was very unfeeling, of course, but all the same I sat down close to
poor Tom as he lay upon the deck, and roared with laughter to see his
miserable yellow face, and the way in which he screwed up his eyes. But
it was only three days before when I was really ill that Tom was
strutting about the deck ridiculing sea-sickness, and telling me what a
poor sort of a fellow I was to knuckle under to a few qualms like that.
For I must confess to having been one of the first attacked when we were
well out at sea. It was the first time I had ever seen the blue water;
and no sooner did a bit of a gale spring up, and the great steamer begin
to climb up the waves and then seem to be falling down, down, down in
the most horrible way possible, than I began to prove what a thorough
landsman I was, and, like a great many more passengers, was exceedingly
ill.
I remember thinking that it would have been much better if I had stayed
at home instead of tempting the seas.
Then as I grew worse I called myself by all sorts of names for coming
upon such a mad expedition.
Then I vowed that if I could get on shore again, I'd never come to sea
any more.
Lastly I grew so bad that I didn't care what became of me, and I felt
that if the steamer sank I should be relieved from all my terrible
pains.
And all this time Tom was skipping about the deck as merry as a lark,
chaffing with the sailors or making friends with the firemen, and every
now and then coming to me and making me so cross that I felt as if I
could hit him.
"Now do let me fetch the doctor to you, Mas'r Harry," he kept on saying,
pulling a solemn face, but with his eyes looking full of fun.
"I tell you I don't want the doctor. Don't be such an ass, Tom," I
cried.
"But you do seem so ill, Mas'r Harry," he said with mock sympathy. "Let
me see if I can get you some brimstone and treacle."
"Just you wait till I get better, Tom," I said feebly. "You nasty
wretch, you. Brimstone and treacle! Ugh!"
My sufferings ought to have awakened his sympathy, but it did not in the
least, and I found that nobody thought anything of a sea-sick passenger.
But at last I got over it, and, to my intense delight, all of a sudden
Tom was smitten with the complaint, and became more prostrate than even
I.
I did not forget the way he had tortured me, and you may be sure that I
did not omit to ask him if he would try the brimstone and treacle. I
behaved worse to him, I believe, for I tortured him by taking him cold
fat pork and hard biscuits, and paid him various other little attentions
of a kindred sort, making him groan with pain, till one day--it was
while the sea was very rough, and I thought him too ill to move--he
suddenly got up.
"Tell you what, Mas'r Harry," he said, "I'm not going to stand your
games no longer. I shall get up and be better;" and better he seemed to
grow at once, so that by the next day he was almost himself again, and
we stood by the high bulwarks watching the great Atlantic rollers as
they came slowly on, as if to swallow up our ship.
CHAPTER FIVE.
A SAILOR ON SEA-SERPENTS.
"It do puzzle me, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, as we sat in the chains one
bright, sunny day, when the storm was over, but a fine stiff breeze was
helping the toiling engines to send the steamer along at a splendid
rate.
"What puzzles you, Tom?" I asked.
"Why, where all the water comes from. Just look at it now. Here have
we been coming along for more'n a week, and it's been nothing but water,
water, water."
"And we could go on for months, Tom, sailing, sailing away into the
distant ocean, and still it would be nothing but water, water, water."
"Well, but what's the good of it all, Mas'r Harry? Why, if I was to get
up a company to do it, and drain it all off, the bottom of the sea here
would be all land, and people could walk or have railways instead of
being cooped up in a great long tossing box like this, and made so--Oh,
dear me, it nearly makes me ill again to think of it."
"Ah! that would be a capital arrangement, Tom," I said smiling. "What a
lot more room there would be on the earth then!"
"Wouldn't there, Mas'r Harry?" he cried eagerly.
"A tremendous deal more, Tom. Every poor fellow might have an estate of
his own; but where would you drain the water to?"
"Where would I drain the water to, Mas'r Harry?"
"To be sure," I said, enjoying his puzzled look. "If you take it away
from here you must send it somewhere else."
"Of course, Mas'r Harry, of course," he replied eagerly. "Oh, I'd
employ thousands of navvies to dig a big drain and let the water right
off."
"Yes, I understand that," I replied; "but where is the drain to lead?"
"Where's the drain to lead?"
"Yes; where is the water to run?"
"Where's the water to run?" said Tom, scratching his head. "Where's the
water to run, Mas'r Harry? Why, I never thought of that."
"No, Tom, you never thought of that; and you can't alter it, so it is of
no use to grumble."
"Don't you two young fellows slacken your hold there," said a sailor,
looking over at us.
"'Taint likely, is it?" said Tom grinning; "why, where should we be if
we did?"
"Down at the bottom some day," growled the sailor as he walked away, and
Tom looked at me.
"Just as if it was likely that a fellow would let go and try and drown
hisself, Mas'r Harry. Think it's deep here?" he added as he gazed down
into the dense blue water.
"Yes, Tom, very," I replied, gazing down as well, for the water was
beautifully transparent, and the foam left by the bows of the steamer
sparkled in the brilliant sunshine as we rushed along.
"Deep, Tom?" I said, "yes, very."
"How deep, Mas'r Harry; forty or fifty foot?"
"Two or three miles, p'r'aps, Tom," I replied.
"Go along! Two or three miles indeed!" he said, laughing.
"I don't know that it is here, Tom," I continued, "but I believe they
have found the depth nearly double that in some places."
"What! have they measured it, Mas'r Harry?"
"Yes, Tom."
"With a bit of string?"
"With a sounding-line, Tom."
"And a bit of lead at the end?"
"Yes, Tom, a sounding-lead with a great bullet, which they left at the
bottom when they pulled the line in again."
"Think o' that, now!" cried Tom. "Why, I was wondering whether a fellow
couldn't go down in a diving-bell and see what the bottom was like, and
look at the fishes--say, Mas'r Harry, some of 'em must be whoppers."
"Ay, my lad," said the same sailor who had before spoken, and he rested
his arms on the bulwark and stared down at us; "there's some big chaps
out at sea here."
"Could we catch some of 'em?" asked Tom.
"Oh, yes," said the sailor. "Dessay you could, my lad, but I wouldn't
advise you to try a sixpenny fishing-line with a cork float and a
three-joint hazel rod with a whalebone top--you know that sort, eh?"
"Know it? I should think I do," cried Tom. "So does Mas'r Harry here.
We used to ketch the gudgeons like hooroar down in the sharp water below
the mill up at home."
"Ah!" said the sailor, "so used I when I was a boy; but there ain't no
gudgeons here."
"What sort o' fish are there, then?" said Tom.
"Oh, all sorts: bonito, and albicore, and flying-fish, sometimes
dolphins and sharks."
"Any whales?" cried Tom, winking at me.
"Sometimes; not very often, my lad," said the sailor quietly. "They
lies up in the cold water, more among the ice. We're getting every day
more into the warm."
"I'm sorry there ar'n't any whales," said Tom. "How long might they be,
say the biggest you ever see?"
"Oh!" said the sailor, "they mostly runs thirty or forty foot long, but
I saw one once nearly eighty-foot."
"What a whopper!" said Tom, giving me a droll look.
"Sounds big," said the sailor, "but out here in the ocean, my lad,
seventy or eighty-foot only seems to be a span long, and no size at all,
while the biggest shark I ever see--"
"How long was that?" said Tom; "a hundred foot?"
"No," said the sailor drily; "he was eighteen-foot long--a long, thin,
hungry-looking fellow, with a mouth and jaws that would have taken off
one of your legs like a shot."
"Well, but if an eighty-foot whale don't look big," said Tom, "an
eighteen-foot shark must be quite a shrimp."
"Ah! you wouldn't think so," said the sailor quietly, "if you were
overboard and one of 'em after you."
"But I thought you'd got monsters out here at sea," said Tom, giving me
another of his cunning looks, as much as to say, "You see how I'll lead
him on directly."
"So we have," said the sailor, staring straight out before him, "only it
don't do to talk about 'em."
"Why?" I said quickly, for the man's quiet, serious way impressed me.
"Well, you see, sir," he replied, "if a man says he's seen a monster out
at sea, and it isn't a whale which people knows of, having been seen,
they say directly he's a liar, and laugh at him, and that isn't
pleasant."
"Of course not," I replied, "if he is telling the truth."
"Of course, sir, if he's telling the truth; and, take it altogether,
what I know of sailors after being at sea thirty-two year, beginning as
a boy of twelve, sailors ain't liars."
"Well, let's hope not," I said.
"They ain't indeed, sir," said the man earnestly. "They do foolish
things, drinking too much when they get ashore after a voyage, and
spending their money like asses, as the saying goes; but a chap as is at
sea in the deep waters, and amongst storms and the lonesomeness of the
great ocean, gets to be a serious sort of fellow--he isn't the liar and
romancer some people seem to think."
"No, but you do spin yarns, some of you?" said Tom.
"Well, yes, of course," said the sailor. "Why not sometimes for a bit
of fun? but when a man's in 'arnest he ought to be believed."
"Of course," said Tom; "but I say, mate, you never see the sea-serpent,
did you?"
The man did not answer for a few moments, but stood gazing straight out
to sea before saying quietly:
"I don't know. A man sees some curious things out at sea in the course
of thirty years; but he gets precious cautious about telling what he's
seen after being laughed at, and chaffed when he's been only telling the
simple truth. Why, I remember, once when I was out with one captain, we
saw what we thought was the sea-serpent or something of the kind, and
observations were taken, it was all entered in the log, and sent to the
papers afterwards; and the skipper got laughed nearly out of his skin
for a romancer. He was a queen's captain--man-o'-war it was, and all
was as regular as could be; officers and men saw it all, but they were
so roasted afterwards that, when anything of the kind's seen now, they
say nothing about it."
"But do you really mean to say you believe that there are monsters in
the ocean that we have no regular account of in books?"
He turned to me, and pointed out to sea.
"Isn't there room there for thousands of great things, my lad; such as
we've never seen or heard of?" he said.
I nodded.
"Why, do you know that in some parts out here the water's over four
miles deep? They've measured it, my lad, and they know."
"Say, Mas'r Harry, that's more than your two mile," cried Tom.
"Ay, and I dessay there's parts where it's more than twice as deep, and
when you come to think of the thousands of miles you can sail without
nearing land, I say there's room for thousands of things such as nobody
has ever seen."
"That's very true," I said.
"Why, I remember, down at home in Norfolk, when I was a boy, there was a
big pool that people never fished, because they said there was no fish
in it, and so it had been longer than anybody could recollect; and at
last there was a plan made to drain a bit of bog close by, and a great
dyke was cut. This set the farmer the pool belonged to thinking that if
he cut a ditch to the big dyke, he could empty the old pool, and if he
did he would get 'bout three acres of good dry ground instead of a black
peaty pool; so he set a lot o' chaps at work one dry summer when they
weren't busy, and we boys went to see it done. Now, you may believe me
or you mayn't, my lads."
"Oh, we'll believe you; won't we, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom grinning.
"Well, I shall," I replied, and the sailor went on.
"When the water began to get low in that pool we used to see that there
were fish in it, and at last there was a regular set out catching of
them in the bits of holes where the water had left them."
"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, don't I wish we had been there!" cried Tom.
"Ay, it was fun, my lad, for we got scores of tench, some of 'em three
and four pound weight, and there was six or seven carp ever so much
bigger. One of 'em weighed nine pounds."
"That was a fine un," said Tom.
"But the biggest fish we got was a pike, and he was the only one there.
That chap must have eat up all that had been before him, and he weighed
three-and-thirty pound. He was close upon four foot long, and a
gentleman there said if he had been in good condition he would have
weighed five-and-forty, for he was as thin as a lath."
"I should have liked to see that fish," said Tom.
"Ay, it was a fine one. We boys daren't tackle him, he was so big,"
continued the sailor; "and then out of the mud they got bushels of great
eels, some of the biggest I ever saw."
"Did you though?" said Tom.
"Ay, we did. When the water had got right down low, you could see 'em
squirming about like snakes, and when they'd got all we could see they
laid down boards over the mud, and punched about in the soft places when
great fellows kept coming up to the top, and they got no end more. They
were the biggest eels ever I see, and as fat as butter."
"Were they though?" said Tom.
"Ay, they were, my lads; and what I wanted to say was this--If so be as
those fish could live in that bit of a three-acre pool without people
knowing of their being there, don't you think there can be no end of big
fishes and things in the great waters, thousands of miles from shore,
such as menfolks has never seen?"
"Well, it do seem likely," said Tom; "but I never could swallow the
sea-serpent."
"No, my lad, more likely to swallow you," said the sailor drily.
"But come now," said Tom drily. "Did you ever come across the great
sea-serpent?"
"A mate o' mine," said the sailor, "told me he once saw out Newfoundland
way part of a great cuttle-fish that had been washed ashore after a
storm. It was a great jellyfish sort of thing, and it was thirty foot
long; and he said he was sure it couldn't have been more than half of
it, and the next day he saw one of its arms all full of suckers, and it
was twenty foot long."
"Well, that must have been a pleasant sort of thing," said Tom, as I sat
there listening thoughtfully, for the sailor seemed disposed to go on
talking.
"I remember one year, fifteen years ago I daresay it is, we were going
from Singapore to Hong Kong, and it was a strangely hot calm time, when
all at once away about a mile on our lee bow I saw something rise up out
of the sea five-and-twenty or thirty feet, as it seemed to be, but it
went down again directly; and I rubbed my eyes, thinking it was fancy,
but directly after out it came again, making a curious kind of thrust
like as if it was a long neck of something under the water. Then down
it went again, and I called the officer of the watch to look at it; and
he came with his glass, laughing-like, but just then out it came again
and he tried to get a glimpse of it through his glass, but he never
could be quick enough, for there was no telling where the thing would
dart out its head, and when it did come up it went down again directly.
"I was in hopes it would come nigher, but it went the other way,
shooting out its head once when it was a good way off, and then we did
not see it any more."
"And what do you think it was?" I said eagerly.
"Not knowing, can't say," he replied quietly. "Our officer said,
half-laughing, half-puzzled like, that he should have said it was the
sea-serpent, only no one would believe him if he did."
"Did you ever see anything else?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, my lad, I've seen a good many things that people wouldn't
believe. I remember once seeing a curious thing off the muddy Malay
coast, a long way north of Malacca, where you have mangrove swamps right
down about the mouths of the rivers, places where the crocodiles go in
and out."
"I say, how big's a crocodile?" said Tom sharply.
"All sizes, mate," said the sailor. "I've seen 'em two foot long and
I've seen 'em twenty."
"Oh, not bigger than that?" said Tom contemptuously.
"No, my lad, that's the biggest I ever see, but I've heerd of 'em being
seen five or six and twenty."
"But tell us about the strange thing you saw off the Malay coast," I
said impatiently.
"Oh, ah! yes," he said, "that was just as the mist was lifting that lay
between us and the coast. It was in a shallow muddy sea, and three or
four of us was trying to make out the trees ashore, and wondering
whether there would be any chance of our getting some fresh fruit and
vegetables before long; when, all at once, one of my mates claps his
hand on my shoulder, and he says--`Lookye yonder, mate.' `Why, it's the
sea-sarpent!' says another. `Well, that is a rum un,' says another.
And then we stood looking at what seemed to be a great snake swimming,
with twenty or thirty feet of its neck outer water; and it was holding
it up in a curve just like a swan, and sometimes its head was right up
high and sometimes curved down close to the water with its neck in a
loop, and all the time it was going along five or six knots an hour.
`Why, it _is_ the sea-sarpent!' says another of our mates, `look all
behind there; you can see its back as it swims, 'tis a hundred foot
long, see if it isn't!' I looked, and sure enough it did seem to be a
great length behind, nearly covered by the water; but, as I stood, it
didn't seem to me like a snake swimming, for it seemed more than ever as
if what we saw was a great slimy slaty-coloured thing, the make of a
swan, swimming with its body nearly all under water and its head out;
or, as I afterwards thought, just like one of the big West Indy turtles,
such as you'll see by and by if you're lucky."
"Like a turtle?" I said.
"Yes, my lad," he continued, "a great flat-bodied turtle, that might
have been thirty or forty foot long and half as much across, while it
had a great neck like a swan."
"But what made you think it was like that?" I asked.
"Because you could see its back out of the water now and then, and it
wasn't like a serpent, for it rose over like a turtle's, and sometimes
it was higher out of the water sometimes lower; and what I saw as plain
as could be was the water rippling up fore and aft, just as if the thing
had nippers which it was working to send it along."
"Did your captain see it?" I asked at last.
"No, my lad, for we was too full of wonderment just then to do more than
stare at the thing, till all at once it seemed to stretch its neck out
straight with quite a dart, as if it had caught something to eat, and
then it wasn't there."
"Didn't it come up again?" said Tom.
"No, my lad, we never see it no more."
"How far was it from the shore?" I asked.
"Five or six miles, my lad, more or less," he replied; and just then
there was a call for all hands to take in sail, and our yarn-spinner
went away.
CHAPTER SIX.
ONWARD.
"That was a rum sort of tale, Mas'r Harry," said Tom as soon as we were
alone. "Do you believe him?"
"Yes," I replied, "I believe he is sincere."
"What! and see those great things, Mas'r Harry, out at sea?"
"I believe he saw something," I replied, "but whether it was just as he
described is another thing. There's plenty of room, though, in the sea
for more than that, and perhaps people will find out some day that we
have not seen everything that there is in the world."
"Talk about snakes, though, Mas'r Harry," said Tom suddenly; "where did
you say we was going?"
"To Caracas first."
"Ah! Crackers--that's it. Do you think there'll be any snakes there?"
"Not sea-serpents, Tom," I said laughing; "but up the country where we
are going there are sure to be plenty of land-serpents."
"Not big ones, though, Mas'r Harry?"
"I should say there will be some very big ones in the swamps by the
great rivers."
"Think o' that now!" said Tom. "Big serpents! ugh! I can't abide eels
even. I don't know how I should get on with serpents. But I say, Mas'r
Harry, it's all nonsense about sea-serpents, ar'n't it?"
"I don't know, Tom," I replied. "Perhaps they never grow to a very
large size; but there are thousands of small ones."
"What! sea-serpents, Mas'r Harry?"
"To be sure there are."
"But not in the sea--snakes couldn't swim?"
"Indeed but they can, Tom. Why, I've seen our common English snake go
into a stream and swim beautifully with its head reared above the water,
and after swimming about for some time, come out."
"Think of that now!" said Tom. "Where's the sea-serpents, then?"
"Oh, all about the Indian and Chinese Seas."
"Big uns?"
"I never heard of their being more than five or six feet long, but some
of them are very poisonous. People have died from their bite."
"Have they, though?" said Tom. "And where else are there any, Mas'r
Harry?"
"Oh, they swarm in the Caspian Sea. I've heard that they float about in
knots of several together on calm, sunny days, and they come ashore in
the shallow parts."
"Caspian Sea!" said Tom; "where may that be--anywhere near Crackers?"
"No, Tom," I said; "we've left that behind us in the Old World."
"And a good job too," said Tom; "we don't want sea-serpents where we're
going. Why, Mas'r Harry, I shall never like to do a bathe again."
Soon after this Tom proposed that we should try sea-fishing, but when we
had borrowed lines and begun to make our preparations the weather set in
so rough that we never once had a chance. In fact there were many days
when we had no opportunity of coming on deck unless we were prepared to
be drenched with the spray that deluged the deck as some great wave
struck the steamer's bows, and then flew in driving showers from end to
end.
There were times when I fancied that the officers looked quite serious,
but they said nothing, only were very particular about the hatches being
kept closed.
Then came a spell of finer weather, during which we reached Jamaica, and
I was thinking of getting a few days ashore, so as to see something of
this beautiful island; but it was not to be, for we found that we were
very late, that the steamer into which we were to shift had been waiting
for us three days, and if we did not take passage in her we should have
to wait a fortnight, perhaps longer, for another.
"And I did so want to see the niggers in the sugar plantations, and
taste real Jamaica rum. Say, Mas'r Harry, that stuff people drink in
England's all gammon."
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because it's brown and yellow, like wine," he replied. "Real Jamaica
rum's quite white."
"Well, Tom," I said, "I don't know that it will make any difference to
us; and as to the sugar plantations and the niggers, as you call them, I
daresay you will be able to see some at my uncle's place."
"But he don't grow sugar, does he, Mas'r Harry?"
"I don't know about that," I said, "but I think so. I know he grows a
great deal of coffee."
"Think of that, now, Mas'r Harry! And tea, too?"
"No, he does not grow tea, Tom."
"Well, I do wonder at that," said Tom, "because you see tea's better
than coffee to keep to."
"How about climate, Tom?" I said laughing.
"Climate? Ah! yes, I s'pose that do make a difference, Mas'r Harry.
But he might grow sugar."
"Perhaps he does, Tom," I said, "but we shall see before very long."
"Well, it won't be because it isn't hot enough," said Tom, wiping his
face. "Phew! the sun does go it out here."
"But it may be colder where my uncle lives, Tom."
"Why, how can it be, Mas'r Harry, if it's anywhere out here?"
"Perhaps he's high up in the mountains, and there it will be much
colder."
"Ha-ha-ha! Well, that is a good un, Mas'r Harry," laughed Tom. "You
had plenty of schooling and I had none, but I do know better than that.
Going up closer to the sun and finding it colder! Well, that is a rum
un, and no mistake."
I tried to explain to Tom why it was that the climate was colder in
mountain regions, but I suppose I did it in too bungling a way for him
to comprehend, and he stood out for his own opinion till he saw, some
weeks later, a magnificent specimen of a snow-capped mountain, at which
he stared in amazement; and even then he was obstinate enough to declare
that, after all, the dazzling whiteness might be due to the clear
transparency of crystal rock.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
FEEDING THE SHARKS.
It was a wonderful change from the stormy, tossing Atlantic, with its
bitter winds and chilling cold, to the calm transparency of the
brilliantly-blue tropic waters, where everything looked so unclouded and
so bright. When we neared one or other of the islands, everything
seemed so fresh that we began to forget the perils and troubles of our
long, uneventful, but sufficiently troubled voyage. For there were
golden or dazzlingly white sands, upon which the calm sea softly
rippled, while close down to the water's edge we could see what Tom
called spike plants and sweep's-brush trees--these being his names for
plants of the Yucca family and lovely slender-tufted palms.
When we gazed down into the clear waters from the deck of our
comparatively small steamer, we could see fish in plenty, for the
brilliant sun seemed to light up the sea beneath the vessel's keel,
while as the screw churned up the water and the steamer rushed on, the
scaly occupants of the deep flashed away to right and left, darting out
of sight like so many shafts of silver through the sunny depths.
It was a wonderful change from cold and chill to a delicious atmosphere,
where the soft sea-breeze fanned our cheeks, though we soon became aware
of the fact that the sun possessed power such as we had never
experienced before.
"Why, it's like as if it came through a burning glass, Mas'r Harry,"
said Tom; "and, I say, just you try to touch that copper hood thing that
goes over the compass. I did, and it burned my hand just as if it had
come out of a hot fire."
"Well, I don't want to burn my hands, Tom," I replied. "I can see how
hot it is by the pitch standing up in beads all along the ropes."
"And it's making black icicles outside some of the boards, Mas'r Harry,
only they're soft instead of hard. I say, isn't it jolly?"
The next day it was a great deal hotter, for there was not a breath of
air, and Tom came to me as I was hanging listlessly over the side, for I
was too hot to stir.
"Say, Mas'r Harry," he said, "isn't this what they call being in the
tropics?"
"Yes, Tom; this is the tropics."
"Well, they're hot tropics, and no mistake--out-and-out hot uns. It
won't get any warmer than this, will it?"
"Warmer, my lad?" said one of the sailors; "why, this is nothing to what
it is sometimes. I've known it so hot that the fellows have been
half-roasted, and when the skipper's piped all hands to bathe in a
lugsail overboard, to keep away the sharks, you've heard the lads sizzle
as they jumped into the water."
"They got quite red-hot, then?" said Tom quietly.
"Well, hardly red-hot, though they were mostly very red--more brown-hot,
I should say."
"Thanky," said Tom. "Much obliged;" and the sailor went away chuckling.
"He thinks I believe him, Mas'r Harry," said Tom quietly; "but I'm not
quite such a fool as all that."
"Oh! never mind their nonsense, Tom," I said; "there are too many
beautiful things to see, for us to pay heed to all that these fellows
say."
"Ah! you're about right there, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but somehow I am
a bit disappointed."
"Why?" I asked.
"At not getting ashore. Only think of it, Mas'r Harry! having a gun
apiece, and going wandering up the country somewhere, seeing all there
is in one of these islands."
"Have patience, Tom," I replied; "and I daresay you'll get as much
adventure as you'll care to have."
I did not know how true a prophet I was then. In fact, perhaps if I
could have foreseen all we should have to go through, I might have
shrunk back from my undertaking.
Farther and farther every day now we went on and on, putting in at first
one island port and then another, but never having time to do more than
just go ashore. A visit up the country was quite out of the question.
"It's a rum un, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, on our first landing; and his
broad countrified face expanded into a grin as he stopped opposite a
stout old negro woman who was selling fruit. No sooner did she see Tom
displaying his white teeth than she showed hers--two long rows like
ivory--and these two stood smiling one at the other till Tom recovered
himself, and invested sixpence in plantains and oranges.
"They're black enough out here, and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom;
"and oh, I say, just you taste these--they're splendid."
The waving cocoa palms and the beautiful flowers that we saw brought
into the bright little market made me feel, like Tom, that I should like
to go farther afield; but I comforted myself with the recollection that
we should soon be at our destination, and that then there would be
plenty to see and do.
Back on board once more, we spent our time basking in the sunshine,
drinking it in as it were, for it seemed so delightful in spite of its
heat after our dull, cheerless, hazy home in the winter season.
I took no note of how the time went, and this part of the voyage, though
in a slow clumsy boat, seemed far the quickest portion of the journey,
so that I was quite surprised when one morning I came on deck, and found
not only that we were in sight of land, but in sight of port--my landing
port--the end of my sea journey, for we were right across the Gulf of
Mexico, abreast of La Guayra, where the orders were given, and anchor
was dropped in the open roadstead, where, calm as it was, we could still
feel the great swell that came softly sweeping in, making the great
steamer rock and roll first to this side then to that, till, heavily
laden though she was, she careened over so that her copper glistened in
the sun.
I was beginning to feast my eyes upon the beauty of the place, when Tom,
who was right forward, shouted to me to come, and as I glanced at him I
saw that he was waving his hands so excitedly that there must be
something worth seeing, and I ran forward.
"Here's something for you to have a look at, Mas'r Harry," he cried.
"You recollect that big pike the sea-serpent sailor told us about--ugh!
four feet long didn't he say?"
"Yes, Tom; but there are no pike here."
"No pike, Mas'r Harry! Why, here's a couple of 'em cruising about just
under the bows here, and you can see 'em as plain as plain, and they're
twelve or fourteen foot long at least."
"Yes, Tom," I said, as I climbed on to the bulwark, and sheltering my
eyes gazed down into the beautiful water, where the bottom was plainly
visible many feet below. "Yes, Tom," I said, "they're twelve or
fourteen feet long at least, but they are not pike."
"Not pike, Mas'r Harry! What are they then?"
"Sharks, my lad," I replied. "Sharks."
"What, them?" he cried excitedly as he stared down. "So they're sharks
are they? Well, I'm glad I've seen 'em anyhow; but I shouldn't have
known that they were sharks. Mustn't bathe here then," he continued;
"that is if all they say about sharks is true."
"I believe it's true enough, Tom," I said.
"Let's try 'em, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly.
"Try them! What, bathe? Why, Tom, you must be mad!"
"I never said a word about bathing, Mas'r Harry," he responded rather
grumpily. "I said, Let's try 'em. I say if we had a big hook and line,
Mas'r Harry," he continued, with a broadly comical grin, "and baited
with nice fat little niggers, what sport we should have."
"Nice fun for the little niggers as you call them, Tom," I said.
"Yes, it wouldn't be very nice for them, Mas'r Harry. But I say, let's
see if they'd go at a bait."
"How?" I cried.
"Stop a moment, and I'll show you," he said; and running to where one of
the firemen was having a quiet pipe on deck, I saw Tom accost him, and
then go down into the stoke-hole, to come up again directly with a big
lump of slaty coal, bearing which he joined me.
"Let's drop this in gently," he said, "just over them; or, no, it would
make such a splash some of the sailors would come to see. I've got a
bit of string in my pocket."
Tom always had a bit of string in his pocket, and unrolling it he
loosely tied it round the lump of coal, and then getting well on the
bulwark raised the coal gently up and over the side, beginning to lower
it down.
"Take care you don't go over instead of the coal, Tom," I said with a
grim smile.
"Oh, I say, Mas'r Harry, don't talk like that!" he cried; "it's enough
to give a chap the shudders. It was only my fun about the little
niggers. Now, then, I think I can shake it out of the loop."
The sharks were just below us, and eight or ten feet down, as Tom
lowered the piece of coal right to the surface, without making any
splash and disturbing the water so as to interrupt our view of what we
hoped would take place. Then giving the string a jerk he loosened the
coal, which began to descend rapidly, its bright black surface flashing
in the brilliant sunshine till it was half-way down, when there was a
tremendous swirl in the water, which danced and flashed and obscured our
vision, only that we caught sight of something--of two somethings--quite
white, and then by degrees the water calmed down, and there were the two
sharks still there, but turned round with their heads in a fresh
direction.
"Why, they took the coal, and one of 'em's swallowed it, Mas'r Harry,"
cried Tom excitedly.
"No, Tom: I think I can see it right down below there," I said; "but
they did have a try at it."
"What are you young fellows doing there?" said a voice; and, as we
turned sharply round, there stood the captain. "What! are you fishing?"
"No, sir," said Tom; "I only dropped something over to see if the big
fish there would take it."
"Oh, I see!" he exclaimed. "Sharks! Yes, there are plenty of them, my
lads. No bathing here. You should get the cook to give you a lump of
bad pork, and hang that over by the string: that would fetch them."
Tom took the hint, and running to the cook told him what the captain
said, returning at the end of a minute to where I was still watching the
two monsters, the captain having gone.
"I'll tie this tight on, Mas'r Harry," cried Tom, suiting the action to
the word. "I say, don't I wish we had a hook!"
The piece of meat was soon firmly secured, and twisting one end of the
string round his hand, Tom took his old place beside me, chuckling and
laughing, and began to lower down his bait.
"I say, Mas'r Harry, I wish it was a bar o' soap. If one of 'em
swallowed it I wonder what he'd think of the taste."
By this time Tom had his bait close to the water, and directly after he
let it drop on the surface, where it made a little disturbance and then
floated.
Almost at the same moment it appeared as if, without the slightest
movement, one of the sharks was growing bigger and closer. It seemed to
fascinate us, so cautiously did it rise nearer and nearer, till all of a
sudden it rolled right over on its side, showing the creamy white of its
under parts; there was a gleam of teeth, a swirl in the water, and the
greasy lump of salt pork disappeared.
As it did so I saw Tom's arm give a sudden jerk, and as he uttered a
yell I realised what was wrong, flinging my arms round him, and threw
myself inboard, so that I dragged him with me, and we fell together upon
the deck.
"Oh, my eye!" gasped Tom as we sat up on the deck; and he held up his
hand, beginning to unwind the broken string from it, and showing how
deeply it had cut into it before it gave way.
"What an escape, Tom!" I cried, and as I spoke I felt that I must be
looking very white.
"I should have gone overboard if you hadn't laid hold o' me, Mas'r
Harry," he said, looking blankly in my face. "How strong that string
was, and how it cut!"
"How stupid of you to tie it round your hand like that!" I said.
"Well, I s'pose it was, Mas'r Harry," he said ruefully; "but one didn't
think of it then."
"Well, let's have a look at the sharks," I said, as the horror of what
might have happened passed off.
"No, thankye, Mas'r Harry," said Tom sulkily. "I've had enough shark
for one day. My hand's 'bout cut in two, and my arm's 'bout pulled
outer the socket, and one of my legs was twissen under me when I come
down, I've had enough shark to last me half a lifetime."
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE NEW LAND.
As the shuddering feeling of what Tom had escaped passed off, we both
thought it would be better to say nothing about it. We knew that he had
acted foolishly; and I felt that I ought to have known better, and then
soon enough, boy like, we forgot it all.
For there was a bright future spread before us, and I began to wonder
how it was that with such lovely places on the face of the earth, people
could be content to live in old England. There, seen through the bright
transparent atmosphere, were convent, cathedral, castle, and tower,
grouped at the foot of a mountain, glistening with endless tints as it
towered up nine thousand feet, wall and battlement running up the spurs
of the great eminence.
The scene was lovely, and I was in raptures then with all that lay
before me, and again I asked myself how people could be content in
chilly Europe; but I soon understood all that.
Tom was walking by my side, and turning to him--
"What do you think of it, Tom?" I said.
"Well, 'taint so very bad, Mas'r Harry," he grumbled out. "But ain't
them sharkses?"
I followed his pointing finger, and, to my horror, I could see, cleaving
the blue and creamy-foamed water, close inshore, the black fins of one--
two--three--half a score of sharks; while all the time, dashing and
splashing in and out of the surf, busily unloading boats and larger
vessels, were dozens of mulatto porters.
I expected every moment to hear a shriek and to see the silver foam
tinged with red. My heart beat intermittently, and there was a strange
dampness in my hands; but I soon learned that familiarity bred contempt,
and that probably from the noise and splashing kept up, the sharks
rarely ventured an attack. But all the same, that one incident made me
gaze down into the blue depths where we were at anchor with a shudder,
and think that the waters were not so safe as those of home.
I had yet to learn something of the land.
"What's this place called, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom, interrupting my
reverie. "You did tell me, but I've forgotten."
"La Guayra!"
"Humph!" ejaculated Tom. "Why can't they call places by some name in
plain English?"
But the various strange sights and sounds soon silenced Tom's tongue,
and, tired out at last with a long walk, we went to the house that had
been recommended to me, and after partaking of coffee--the best I ever
remember to have drunk--I sought my room, Tom insisting upon sleeping on
the floor in the same chamber, and my last waking recollections were of
the pungent fumes of tobacco, and the tinkle, tinkle, twang of a guitar
beneath my window.
I must have been asleep about three hours, and I was dreaming of having
found gold enough to load a vessel homeward bound, when I was wakened by
some one shaking me violently, and as I started up I became aware of a
deafening noise, a choking sensation, as of dust rising in a cloud, and
the voice of Tom Bulk.
"Mas'r Harry--Mas'r Harry! Wacken up, will you?"
"What's the matter?" I gasped, springing out of bed, but only to reel
and stagger about before falling heavily.
"That's just how it served me," said Tom. "Kneel down, Mas'r Harry,
same as I do. The house is as drunk as a fiddler, and the floor's going
just like the deck of a ship."
"Where are you?" I cried, trying to collect my scattered faculties,
for, awakened so suddenly from a deep sleep, I was terribly confused.
"Oh, I'm here!" said Tom. "Give's your hand. But, I say, Mas'r Harry,
what's it mean? Do all the houses get dancing like this here every
night, because, if so, I'll sleep in the fields. There it goes again!
Soap and soda! what a row!"
Tom might well exclaim, for with the house rocking frightfully, now came
from outside the peal as of a thousand thunders, accompanied by the
clang of bell, the crash of falling walls, the sharp cracking and
splitting of woodwork, and the yelling and shrieking of people running
to and fro.
"So this ere's a native storm, Mas'r Harry?" shouted Tom to me during a
pause.
"No!" I shouted in answer, as with a shiver of dread I worded the
fearful suspicion that had flashed across my brain. "No, Tom, it's an
earthquake!"
"Is that all?" grumbled Tom. "Well, it might have come in the daytime,
and not when folks were tired. But I thought earthquakes swallowed you
up."
"Here, for Heaven's sake help me at this door, Tom!" I shouted, "or we
shall be crushed to death. Here, push--hard!"
But our efforts were vain, for just then came another shock, and one
side of the room split open from floor to ceiling.
"The window--the window, Tom!" I shrieked. And then, thoroughly roused
to our danger, we both made for the casement, reaching it just as, with
a noise like thunder, down went the whole building, when it seemed to me
that I had been struck a violent blow, and the next instant I was
struggling amongst broken wood, dust, and plaster, fighting fiercely to
escape; for there was a horrible dread upon me that at the next throe of
the earthquake we should be buried alive far down in the bowels of the
earth.
I was at liberty, though, the next minute.
"Tom--Tom!" I shouted, feeling about, for the darkness was fearful.
"Where are you?"
"All right, Mas'r Harry," was the reply; "close beside you."
"Here, give me your hand," I shouted, "and let's run down to the shore."
For in my horror that was the first place that occurred to me.
"Can't, sir," said Tom. "I ain't got no legs. Can't feel 'em about
there anywheres; can you?"
"What do you mean?" I cried. "This is no time for fooling! Look
sharp, or we shall lose our lives."
"Well, so I am looking sharp," growled Tom. "Ain't I looking for my
legs? I can't feel 'em nowheres. Oh, here they are, Mas'r Harry, here
they are!"
By this time I had crawled to him over the ruins of the house, to find
that he was jammed in amongst the rubbish, which rose to his knees; and,
as he told me afterwards, the shock had produced a horrible sensation,
just as if his legs had been taken off, a sensation heightened by the
fact that he could feel down to his knees and no farther.
"This is a pleasant spot to take a house on lease, Mas'r Harry," he
said, as I tore at the woodwork.
"Are you hurt?" I exclaimed hastily.
"Not as I knows on, Mas'r Harry, only my legs ain't got no feeling in
'em. Stop a minute, I think I can get that one out now."
We worked so hard, that at the end of a few minutes Tom was at liberty,
and after chafing his legs a little he was able to stand; but meanwhile
the horrors around were increasing every instant, and, to my excited
fancy, it seemed as if the earth was like some thick piece of carpet,
which was being made to undulate and pass in waves from side to side.
Dust everywhere--choking, palpable dust; and then as from afar off came
a faint roar, increasing each moment, till, with a furious rush, a
fierce wind came tearing through the ruins of the smitten town, sweeping
all before it, so that we had to cower down and seek protection from the
storm of earth, sand, dust, plaster, and fragments hurled against us by
the hurricane.
But the rush of wind was as brief as it was fierce, and it passed away;
when, in the lull that followed, came shrieks and moans from all
directions, and the sounds of hurrying, stumbling feet, and then, all at
once, from out of the thick darkness a voice cried: "Quick--quick! To
the mountain--the sea is coming in!"
Then came more wails and shrieks from out of the darkness, followed by a
silence that was more awful than the noise.
For full five minutes that silence lasted, broken only by the fall of
some tottering beam. Then came quickly, one after the other, short,
sharp, shivering vibrations of the earth beneath our feet--a shuddering
movement that was transferred to one's own frame; and then I began to
understand the meaning of the cry we had heard respecting the sea, for
from where I supposed it to be, now came a singular hissing, rushing
noise, gradually increasing to a roar, as of mighty waves, and mingled
with that roar there was the creaking and grinding together of shipping
and the hoarse shouting of the crews for help.
But gradually the noises ceased, save when a shuddering shock once more
made the earth to tremble beneath our feet, and some scrap of wood or
plaster to fall from riven wall or roof. The tremendous choking dust,
too, began to settle down as we groped our way along over the ruins that
choked the streets. Now we were lost--now, after a struggle, we
regained the way, trying to join one of the hurrying bands of fugitives
hastening from the place.
I spoke to one man, asking him if there was any more danger, but his
reply was in Spanish; and at last, led by Tom--who seemed by instinct to
know his way--we went down to the shore, strewn with wreck, when,
seizing a rope, and drawing a boat to the sand, Tom told me to enter,
and we half lay there, rising and falling upon the wave--rocked gently,
but wakeful ever, till the sun rose over the sea--bright, glorious, and
peaceful, as if there had been no havoc and desolation during the night.
CHAPTER NINE.
AN EARTHQUAKE ON FOUR LEGS.
"Say, Mas'r Harry, you won't stop in this blessed place, will you?" said
Tom, as, in the full light of day, we were, some hours after, busily
helping in the town, extricating the dead and wounded, and assisting to
bear them to the temporary hospital prepared for their reception.
The house where we had slept was, like hundreds more of the
lightly-built tenements, prostrate; and on visiting the scene our escape
seemed wonderful; while everywhere the mischief done was appalling--
houses toppled down, streets choked with ruins, towers split from top to
bottom, and stones hurled from the unroofed buildings into the gaping
cracks and fissures running down the streets.
But now that the first fright was over, people seemed to take the matter
very coolly, flocking back into the town, to sit and smoke and eat fruit
amidst the ruins of their homes, while others quietly set to work to
restore and repair damages.
"Has there ever been an earthquake here before?" I said to a merchant
who spoke English.
"Earthquakes, my dear senor? Yes, they are common things here."
"But will the inhabitants rebuild the town?"
"Surely. Why not? The site is charming."
I had my thoughts upon the subject, but I did not express them; so, too,
had Tom, but he did express his as above.
"Say, Mas'r Harry, you won't stop here, will you?"
"No," I said; "we are going up the country."
"Because this place ain't safe--there's a screw loose underground
somewheres. Not that I mind. Earthquakes ain't so much account after
all, if they'd come in the day; but all the same, I wouldn't stop here."
I had had no intention of stopping, only just long enough to see the
place and make arrangements for the prosecution of my journey; but this
catastrophe hurried my departure, and at the end of three days we were
both mounted on mules, travelling over hot, bare plains, with the sun
pouring down until one's brain seemed scorched; and when at last water
was reached, it was thick and muddy-looking, so that, but for our
horrible thirst we could not have touched it.
My ideas of South America had been undergoing a great change during the
past few days, and, quite disappointed, in the midst of a long burning
ride I made some remark to Tom about the heat.
"Hot, Mas'r Harry!" he said. "Pooh! this ain't hot, 'Tis a little
warmer than the other place, because there is no sea-breeze, but I could
stand a deal more than this. These here--will you be quiet, then?--
these here mules is the worst of it, though, sir. They won't go like a
horse, nor yet like a donkey; and as to kicking--"
Tom stopped short, for he wanted his breath for other purposes, his
steed having once more turned refractory, kicking, rearing, shaking
itself in an effort to dislodge its rider, spinning round and round,
laying its long ears flat upon its neck, tucking its tail close in
between its legs, and then squeaking and squealing in the most
outrageous manner imaginable.
I have no doubt that it was most terribly unpleasant to the rider,
painful, probably; but to a looker-on it was one of the most ludicrous
of sights, and in spite of heat, weariness, and a tendency to low
spirits, I laughed till the tears ran down my cheeks, while Tom grinned
with pain and held on with both hands to the refractory beast.
"Ah! would you?" cried Tom, as the brute lifted its heels higher than
usual, nearly sending him over its head. "There never was such a beast
as this here, Mas'r Harry. If I'd only got a thicker stick!"
One could not pity him much, for at starting he had rejected three or
four quiet-looking beasts as too slow, and chosen the animal he rode, or
rather tried to ride, for, if the reader will pardon the Irishism, a
great deal of Tom's riding was walking, and performed by leading his
beast by its bridle.
But really it was a deceptive beast, and to have seen it drooping its
head and walking calmly and peacefully by its hirer's side, no one would
have imagined that it possessed so much mischievous sagacity as it very
soon displayed when anyone attempted to mount it.
"I like 'em with some sperrit in 'em, Mas'r Harry," Tom had said. "If
it was a horse it would be different; but if one's to ride a donkey,
let's have one with something in it."
And verily Tom's donkey, as he called it, was not very long before it
showed that it had, indeed, something in it, a great deal more, in fact,
than Tom had bargained for. We did not pass many trees by the track,
but when we did come upon one Tom had certain information thereof, for
the mule rubbed his rider's leg vigorously against the trunk. The sight
of a muddy pool of water was the signal for him to squeak, elevate his
heels, and then go off at a sharp gallop, when, if his rider did not
quickly slip off behind, he would be carried into the pool and bathed,
for the mule would drink his fill and then indulge in a roll in the mud
and water. In short, I never before saw so many acts of cunning in an
animal, one and all directed at dislodging the rider.
At first I was in a state of tremor lest his vagaries should infect the
beasts ridden by myself and the guide; but no, they were evidently
elderly mules--bordering on a hundred they might have been, from their
grey and mangy aspect. They had sown their wild oats years before, and
all that they did was to trudge solemnly on, quiet and sure-footed, if
not swift.
Tom's mishaps had their pleasant face, though; they served to make a
horribly monotonous journey more bearable, and on an average he was in
grief, some way or another, about every two hours.
"Oh, senor," said the guide proudly, "the mule is perfect! He is a
magnificent beast, but he has his antipathies. He used to be ridden by
the padre, and he is a most holy and Christian mule. He shows his
dislike a little sometimes like that, because the senor who rides him is
a heretic."
"Oh!" I said.
"Yes, it is so, senor, I assure you," said the guide. "Let your friend
ride my beast and I will take his, and then you will see how peaceable
he is."
At first Tom did not seem disposed to agree, for he did not like being
beaten; but I ordered him to dismount, his accidents tending so greatly
to lengthen our journey. So the exchange of mules was made, and on we
went once more.
"See, senor!" said the guide. "He is a pattern mule, is Juan; he goes
like a lamb. It is a natural dislike that he has not learned to subdue.
He does not know what good men and generous there are amongst the
heretics."
"Haw, haw, haw, haw! Look at that, Mas'r Harry--there's a game!" roared
Tom, for the guide had hardly done speaking, just as we were travelling
pleasantly along, before Juan, the mule, stopped short, put his head
between his legs, elevated his hind-quarters, and the next moment the
guide was sitting amongst the stones staring up at us with a most
comical expression of countenance.
"The beast has been cursed!" he cried angrily as he rose.
"Car-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ambo! but you shall starve for this, Juan!"
"Let me have another turn at him," cried Tom, as he started off to catch
the mule, which had cantered off a few hundred yards, and was searching
about with his nose amongst the sand and stones for a few succulent
blades of grass where there was not so much as a thistle or a cactus to
be seen.
But Juan had no wish to be caught, and after leading his pursuer a
tolerable race, he stopped short, and placed all four hoofs together, so
as to turn easily as upon a pivot, presenting always his tail to the
hand that caught at his bridle.
"Poor fellow, then! Come, then--come over," said Tom soothingly.
But the only response he obtained was an occasional lift of the beast's
heels, and an angry kick.
"You ignorant brute, you can't understand plain English!" cried Tom
angrily.
"No, senor, he is a true Spanish mule," said the guide, coming up.
Between them, Tom and he soon managed to catch Juan, when, holding
tightly by the reins, the guide vented his displeasure and took his
revenge by thoroughly drumming the poor brute's ribs with a stout stick,
after which Tom mounted, and our journey for the next two hours was
without incident.
But we were not to get to the end of the day without mishap. The sun
had begun to descend, and we were panting along, longing for the sight
of water to quench our burning throats, when Juan began to show that the
pain from the guide's drubbing had evaporated. First of all he indulged
in a squeal or two, then he contrived to kick the mule I rode upon one
of its legs, when, emboldened by the success of the manoeuvre, he waited
his time, and then, sidling up to his companion ridden by the guide, he
discharged a fierce kick at him, nearly catching the guide in the shin;
but the result was a tremendous crack from a stick right upon Juan's
back--a blow which made him shake his head with dissatisfaction till his
ears rattled again.
He had forgotten the pain, though, in ten minutes, and the first hint we
had thereof was a squeal and feat of sleight of _heel_, in which, to all
appearances, Juan stood perpendicularly upon his nose and fore-feet for
half a minute, like a fleshly tripod, while his rider, or rather his
late rider, rolled over and over, the centre of a cloud of impalpable
dust, coughing and sneezing, and muttering fiercely.
"There!" exclaimed Tom, as he jumped up and began beating the dust from
his garments. "That's four times that brute has had me off to-day.
I've rid everything in my time, Mas'r Harry, from a pig up to a parish
bull. I've been on sheep and donkeys, and when I was at the
blacksmith's I rode all sorts of restive beasts as come to be shod, but
I never did get on such a brute as that; his skin don't fit him, and he
slippers about between your legs all sorts of ways; but I mean to ride
him yet. Now just you try him half an hour, Mas'r Harry, to see what
he's like."
"Not I, thank you, Tom," was my reply. "I'm very well content."
"So am I, Mas'r Harry, only he makes me so sore; but I ain't bet yet, I
can tell him. Come over, then!"
But the mule would not "come over, then!" and there ensued a fierce
fight of kicks between Tom and his steed, Tom essaying to kick the mule
for punishment in the ribs; the mule, nowise taken aback, returning the
compliment, by essaying to kick his late rider anywhere, though without
success. It might have been imagined, to see the artful feints and
moves, that the mule was endowed with human reason. Tom was more than a
match for him at last, though, for, slipping off his jacket, he threw it
over the mule's head and held it there, confusing the poor beast, so
that it could not avoid a couple of heartily given kicks in the ribs;
and before it could recover from its surprise Tom was once more seated
upon its back in triumph.
"I can stand a wonderful sight of kicking off, Mas'r Harry, I can tell
you! I ain't bet yet! Co-o-me on, will you!"
Apparently cowed, now that the jacket was removed, the mule journeyed on
very peaceably, till leaving the plain we began to ascend a precipitous
mountain-side, the track each moment growing more and more sterile,--if
it were possible--grand, and at the same time dangerous. And now it was
that we began to see the qualities of the mules in the cautious way they
picked their steps, feeling each loose piece of path before trusting
their weight to it, and doing much towards removing a strange sensation
of tremor evoked by the fact that we were progressing along a shelf of
rugged rock some two feet wide--the scarped mountain-side upon our
right, a vast precipice on the left.
More than once I was for getting down to walk, but the guide dissuaded
me, as he declared that it was far better to trust to the mules, who
were never known to slip.
A couple of miles of such travelling served to somewhat reassure me--
familiarity with danger breeding contempt; and I called out to Tom:
"I hope your beast won't bear malice, Tom, for this would be an awkward
place for him to try his capers."
I said so thoughtlessly, just at a time when we were descending; Tom's
beast, which was before me, walking along with the most rigorous care as
to where he set his feet.
"Oh! I say, don't, Mas'r Harry," whined Tom, "don't! It's no joke, you
know, and this mule understands every word you say--leastwise he might,
you know. I ain't afraid, only he might--"
Tom's sentence was not finished; for, in fact, just as if every word I
had uttered had been comprehended, down went the beast's head, his heels
were elevated, and the next moment, to my horror, poor Tom was over the
side of the path, and rolling swiftly down to apparent destruction.
He was brought up, though, the next moment by the reins, which he
tightly grasped, and which fortunately did not give way, though they
tightened with a jerk that must have nearly dislocated the mule's neck.
The leather, fortunately, now strained and stretched, but held firm;
while, planting its fore-feet close to the edge of the precipice, and
throwing its body back against the scarped wall, the mule stood firm as
the rock itself, but snorting loudly as with glaring eyeballs it stared
down at Tom; who hung there, trying to obtain some rest for his feet,
but uttering no sound, only gazing up at us with a wild look that said
plainly as could be, "Don't leave me here to die!"
It was no easy task to help him; for the guide and I had both to
dismount on to a narrow ledge of rock, clinging the while to our mules;
but we achieved that part of our task, and the next moment, one on each
side of Juan, we were kneeling down and trying to reach Tom's hands.
But our efforts were vain, for the mule was in the way, and there was
not standing room for all three. There was but one way of helping, and
that looked too desperate to be attempted, and I hesitated to propose it
as I knelt shivering there.
The same thought, though, had occurred to Tom, and in a husky voice he
said:
"Take hold of the guide's hand, Mas'r Harry, and creep under the mule's
legs to his side."
It was no time to hesitate; and I did as I was told, the mule giving
utterance to quite a shriek as I passed.
"Now can you both reach the bridle?" Tom whispered.
"Yes, yes!" we both exclaimed.
"Hold on tight then, while one of you cuts it through, and then the mule
will be out of the way."
We each took a good grip of the leathern thong, raising it so that we
had Tom's full weight upon our muscles; and then crouching down so as
not to be drawn over, I hastily drew out my knife, opened it with some
difficulty by means of my teeth, and then tried to cut the bridle above
our hands.
But feeling himself partly relieved of his burden, the mule began to
grow restless, stamping, whinnying, and trying to get free. For a
moment I thought we might utilise his power, and make him back and help
draw Tom up; but the narrowness of the ledge forbade it, and he would
only have been drawn sidewise till the rein broke.
Twice I tried to cut the bridle, but twice the mule balked me, and I was
glad to ease the fearful strain on one arm by catching at the hand that
held the knife.
"Try again, Mas'r Harry, please," whispered Tom. "I can't hang much
longer."
With a desperate effort I cut at the rein, and divided it close to the
mule's mouth.
He started back a few inches, tightening the other rein; but now, once
more, I was grasping the rein with both hands lest it should slip
through my fingers, and at the same moment the knife fell, striking Tom
on the cheek and making the blood spurt out, before flying down--down to
a depth that was horrible to contemplate.
It was a fearful time, and as I crouched there a cold sensation seemed
to be creeping through the marrow of all my bones. We could not raise
Tom for the mule, I could not cut the rein, and upon asking I found that
the guide had no knife, and, what was worse, it was evident that he was
losing nerve.
I dared not try to heave--it would have been madness, cumbered and
crowded together as we were; and in those brief moments of agony it
seemed to me that I was Tom's murderer, for, but on account of my wild
thirst for coming abroad, he might have been safe at home.
"Try--try again, Mas'r Harry, please," whispered the poor fellow
imploringly; "I shouldn't like to die out here in these savage parts,
nor yet this how. Make one more try to get rid of that beast."
As if to show that he was not all bad, just at the moment when it seemed
that all chance of saving poor Tom was gone, when our arms felt to be
dragging out of their sockets, and a something drawing me by a strange
fascination, joined to the weight, over the side of the precipice--the
mule gave a wild squeal, shook its head for an instant, seized the tight
rein in its teeth, and bit it through.
The next moment it gave a whinny of relief, planted its feet on my back
as I half lay down, leaped over me, and was out of our way; while how we
managed the next part I cannot say. All I know is that there was a
horrible struggle, a scrambling rush, the panting groans of those who
fought with grim death, and then I lay half-fainting upon the shelf,
with honest old Tom at my side.
"Thank Heaven!" I muttered.
"Amen, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom in a whisper; and then for some time no
one spoke.
Half an hour after, very quiet and sober of mien, we were leading our
mules down the shelf, unnerved and trembling, till once more the plain
was reached, and with it rest for the night.
CHAPTER TEN.
PLAYING AT HEROES.
And so we journeyed on day after day, through heat and dust, and arid,
stony lands; with my heart sinking lower and lower and the thought of
home not being so very bad a place after all continually forcing itself
upon me, till our guide suddenly announced our proximity to the place I
had come these thousands of miles to seek. And now it was that from
where it had sunk my heart gave a great leap of exultation, and I sat
for long enough upon my bony mule drinking in the scene before me.
For the last three days our ride had been over stone and sand, with here
and there a melancholy palm shooting up from the drab-hued desert, the
sun beating down and being reflected up in a way that was almost
unbearable; even Tom riding with his mouth open, panting like a dog, his
face coated with perspiration and dust; while when at night we had
stopped at some wretched makeshift of an inn--a hut generally where a
grass hammock and a little lukewarm water was the total accommodation--a
wash or bath of any kind had been quite out of the question. But now,
as we were descending a steep mountain-side, it seemed as if we had
suddenly dropped into one of the most lovely spots on earth, riding at
once right in beneath the shade of a huge forest, with a sea of green
leaves spreading out before us in every direction.
By comparison the coolness was delightful, and we rode through a vast
arcade over a golden net-work spread by the sun upon the grassy
undergrowth; whilst from afar off came that sweetest of sounds to a
parched and thirsty traveller, the murmuring of falling water, now soft
and gentle, now increasing to a roar.
"Great river, senors," said our guide, pointing forward. "Senor Don
Reuben Landell on other side."
"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom just then, "they ain't sure where the
Garden of Eden was, are they? I'm blest if I don't think we've found
the very spot, and if--There she goes!"
I can't say whether Tom's mind was running just then upon Eve, but as a
light figure seemed to flit into our sight and stand gazing at us with
bright and wondering eyes, mine did; and for a few minutes after she had
disappeared amongst the trees I sat in my saddle without speaking.
But the glorious verdure around soon made me forget the fair vision; and
now, riding on a few paces, now halting at an opening in the forest, I
sat drinking in the scene with the feelings of one in a dream.
Then we rode on a hundred yards up an ascent, with the sun full upon us
once more, to descend a precipitous path, holding on tightly by the
mule, which one expected to slip and hurl one down a gulf at the side;
but the descent was safely made, and then we stood gazing at a belt of
cultivated ground--the forest and river lying off to our right.
"There is the river path, senors," said our guide, "straight down. The
ground is soft and bad for the mules, and I go back. You will find a
gentleman to take you over the great river; but I would look about me;
there are little snakes, the great water-boa, and the crocodiles of the
river."
Then saluting us with his half-bred Spanish politeness, our guide stood
while we possessed ourselves of our light luggage, and then led off his
mules, leaving us to follow the pointed-out direction, which took us
down to the swampy bank of a great muddy river flowing gently by us,
cutting its way, as it were, through a forest of mighty trees, whose
tall stems shot up from the water's edge. There was a small canoe
tethered to a sapling where the path ceased, but no sign of its owner;
while half a mile in front, across the river, was an opening in the
trees similar to that in which we stood, which was, doubtless, the path
we were to pursue.
We stood in deep shadow; but the sun was flashing from the breast of the
river as it rolled slowly on, its even surface unbroken save here and
there by some water-bird; while in several places what seemed to be
rough tree-trunks were floating slowly down with the stream. The great
trees were wreathed and festooned to the water's edge with parasites and
vines; and now and then the shrill cry of some parrot rang out, the bird
flashing into sight for an instant, and then disappearing amidst the
glorious verdure.
"Well, Tom," I said, "this is different from the old country."
But he did not reply; and turning, I found him gazing fixedly amongst
the swamp herbage, through which was a wet, muddy track, when, following
the direction of his gaze and peering into the shade, I became aware of
a pair of the most hideous, hateful eyes fixed upon me that I had ever
seen. I was heated with walking over the wet ground, and there was a
warm, steamy exhalation rising around; but in a moment my tongue became
dry and a cold perspiration bedewed my limbs, as, fascinated almost, I
stood gazing within six feet of the monster, which now began slowly a
retrograde motion till the herbage hid it from our sight. Then there
was a loud rustling rush, a splash in the water, and wave after wave
proclaimed the size of the beast that had, fortunately for us, declined
to attack.
"Whurra!" exclaimed Tom with a shudder. "Say, Mas'r Harry, do newts
grow as big as that out here?"
"It was a crocodile, Tom," I said with a shiver. "And look--look! Why,
the river swarms with them!"
"So it does, seemin'ly," exclaimed Tom as I pointed out the slimy backs
of half-a-score of them floating down the stream; for I could see now
that they were no trees, while here and there on the muddy bank we could
make out a solitary monster basking, open-mouthed, in the sun.
"Come along," I said, "let's get over."
"But will they touch the boat, Mas'r Harry? I ain't afraid, you know,
only they are queersome beasts as ever I did see."
"I don't think there's any fear of that," I said; "but at any rate we
must get over."
Stepping close to the water's edge I drew the light canoe up by its bark
rope, disturbing either a small reptile or some great fish as I did so,
for there was a rushing swirl in the water and the frail vessel rocked
to and fro.
In spite of Tom's declarations to the effect that such a pea-shuck would
sink with us, I stepped in and he followed; when, taking the paddles, we
pushed off and began to make our way out into the stream, Tom's eyes
glancing around as he dipped in his paddle cautiously, expecting every
moment that it would touch a crocodile; but using our paddles--clumsily
enough, as may be supposed--we made some way, and then paused to
consider whether we should go forward or backward, for we had at one and
the same time arrived at the knowledge that the strong stream was our
master, and that until we had attained to some skill in the use of the
paddles any progress upstream towards the landing-place was out of the
question.
"We must get across lower down, Tom," I said, "and then walk back."
"What! through the wood, Mas'r Harry?"
"Yes, through the wood."
"Lor'! No, don't do that, Mas'r Harry. We shall be eat up alive! Them
there woods swarms with snakes--I know they do. And just look there!"
he cried, splashing fiercely with his paddle to frighten a huge reptile,
but without effect; for the great beast came slowly floating down in all
its native hideousness, its rugged bark-like back and the rough
prominences above its eyes out of the muddy water, one eye peering at us
with the baleful look peculiar to this fearful beast.
The next minute it had passed us, and we were once more paddling slowly
on, the river having swept us quite out of sight of the landing-place.
But the sights around were so novel that I rather enjoyed our passage.
In spite of Tom's anxiety, every now and then I ceased paddling to gaze
at some bright-plumaged bird flitting from tree to tree overhanging the
stream. Once I made sure that the great bare vine which swung between
two boughs must be a serpent, till, passing by, we made out its real
character.
At last, though, I awoke to the fact that it was time to be up and
doing, for the current had swept us round a great bend of the river, and
below us I saw that for a wide stretch of quite a couple of miles the
river was broken up by rapids. Great masses of rock thrust their bare
heads out of the water like river monsters, and round them the muddy
tide bubbled, and foamed, and eddied.
It was plain enough that we were approaching a dangerous part, and had
not our sense warned us of the peril we had ample warning in the
increased swiftness and troubled state of the stream. I saw at a glance
that a boat would have but a poor chance of existing amongst the rocky
way if it should be swept there, and I had taken a firm grip of my
paddle when--
"Look, Tom!" I cried.
And for a moment our attention was taken up by one of those glorious
golden-green and scarlet birds--the trogons--flitting close by us, its
emerald crest and gorgeous yard-long tail-feathers flashing in the sun,
while its brilliant scarlet breast was for a moment reflected in the
water.
"Oh, you beauty!" cried Tom. "If I only had my old gun! But, I say,
Mas'r Harry, paddle away!"
Already somewhat more used to the propellers, we began to force the boat
towards the opposite bank, hoping to get into an eddy that should help
us along; but we had dallied with our task, and the stream now ran more
swiftly than ever. Still we made some progress, and were contriving to
dip together, when I almost let my paddle pass from my hands, for a
strange, wild cry rang along the surface of the water.
"What's that?" I exclaimed.
"I should say it was one of them pleasant brutes out for a holiday--one
of them tiger or leopard things, like what we used to see in Wombwell's
show, like great tomcats. I'll lay a wager this is the spot where they
live when they're at home and go yowling about."
"There it is again!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Why, it was a cry for
help. There is some one in the river!"
"Then he'd better hold his tongue," said Tom, "and not get shouting, or
he'll have all these great beasts come rushing at him, same as they did
in the ponds at home when we used to throw in a worm upon a bent pin and
fish for the little newts. There, Mas'r Harry, look at that chap!"
As he spoke Tom pointed with his paddle at a great uncouth monster, some
twelve feet long and tremendously thick, which had raised its head from
the slime in which it wallowed upon the edge of the river, and was
slowly turning itself, first in one and then in another direction,
before splashing a little and then shooting itself off into deep water
with one stroke of its powerful tail.
"Ugh, the brutes!" ejaculated Tom. "They'd make short work of a fellow
if he was thrown in for live bait. But, I say, that is some one
shouting, Mas'r Harry."
"Paddle down closer towards the rapids, Tom," I said excitedly.
Then, for a moment we forgot our own danger as with a sharp stroke or
two we sent the canoe out in full stream, so that it swept down swiftly.
"You're right, Mas'r Harry--you're right!" said Tom, eager now as I was
myself. "Look--look, there's a canoe upset!"
"Paddle away!" I cried as another shout came ringing towards us, just
as I obtained a good view of what was taking place below.
"But we shall be over too, Mas'r Harry, if you row like that. Lord help
them, though, if there ain't a woman in the water!" Tom cried, working
his paddle furiously--an example I had set him.
Swaying about, the little vessel raced almost through the troubled
waters, which each moment grew more rough, leaping and dancing, and
threatening at times to splash right into our frail boat.
Our excitement was pardonable, for right in front of us, and about two
hundred yards down the river, there was a sight which made my nerves
tingle, and the paddle in my hands to feel like a straw. A canoe of
about double the size of our own had been overset in the rapids, and,
with four figures clinging to it, was rapidly floating down stream
amidst the boiling waters, which leaped and seethed round them. Now we
could see that two of the figures were making efforts to turn the canoe;
but it was evident that in the rough water, and with the others clinging
to it, this was impossible; and, evidently half-strangled and bewildered
in the fierce rush, they had given up the next minute, and were clinging
to the vessel's sides.
Now it was hurried down a rapid with a tremendous rush, to be tossing
the next moment in the deep below, whirling round and round, now half
under, now by its buoyancy rising again with its clinging freight, to be
swept into an eddy where the water was comparatively calm, but only to
be slowly driven back again into the swift current hastening down the
rocky slope; and a groan of dismay burst from my breast as I saw the
boat dashed against a great black jagged mass of rock right in its way.
But the next instant the party had glided round it, and were again being
swept downwards where the river was one mass of creamy foam.
How we went down I cannot tell you, for it was due to no skill on our
part; the wonder is that we were not overset a score of times; but
somehow, almost miraculously, we seemed to avoid rock after rock that
was scattered in our way, the little canoe bounding along in a mad race
as we plied our paddles with all the energy at our command. I have
often thought since that our rough action and chance-work way of running
the gauntlet amidst the rocks was the reason of our success, where
skilled managers of a canoe would have come to grief; but, be that as it
may, in a wild exciting race we dashed on and on down the gradual watery
slope, the noise of many waters thundering in our ears, while, with what
I believe is the true generous spirit of an Englishman pervading us, we
forgot our own danger in the sight of that incurred by the party in the
rapids.
"Go it, Mas'r Harry!" Tom roared, mad almost with excitement, as he
scooped away with his paddle. "Hurraw! Who's afraid? That's a good
un! Now again! Brayvo! lay into it, my hearty!"
We gained upon the upset boat swiftly, when, as the clinging party were
swept into a tolerably smooth reach that intervened between a fierce
race of water and the next dangerous spot, I saw one of the men leave
the canoe and strike boldly out for the shore, followed directly after
by two more, whose dusky skin proclaimed them of Indian blood.
"Why, only look there--three men and one woman!" cried Tom. "And if
they haven't gone away and left her! This ain't old England, Mas'r
Harry; we don't do things that how at home. Paddle away! Mind, sir, or
you'll have us over! Only wish I had a couple of tallow staves instead
of this wooden spoon. Paddle away, sir! Cowardly warmint! That's it,
sir; this boat's as light as a cork, but don't have us over. We shall
soon reach her now--mind, steady, for I'm scared to death of the water,
and I wouldn't swim as they do, not for a thousand pounds--not but what
I could if I liked. That's it, sir, only another thirty yards--long
strokes and steady ones, and--hold on, my dear, we're coming."
"Push on, Tom--push on, and save your breath," I cried, "for Heaven's
sake! Ah!--"
I could not restrain that cry--it burst from my lips, for just at that
moment I saw the female figure, yet clinging to the overturned canoe,
glide from her hold, as if drawn away by some invisible agency down,
down, gradually beneath the swift tide.
"It's one of them great wild beasts got her!" cried Tom, giving vent to
the thought that had flashed across my brain. "Oh! don't--pray, pray
don't, Mas'r Harry!" I heard him shriek. "I'm scared to death of these
waters, and if you go I must too, for I swore I'd stick to you like a--
Oh, Mas'r Harry!"
With Tom's voice ringing in my ears, but having no more effect than they
would have had in staying the swift rush of the rapids, I had in one and
the same moment recognised the drowning face, and, paddle in hand,
leaped from the frail canoe into the foaming river.
That was a wild and thrilling moment, when, nerving myself to the
encounter, I battled with the fierce water, trying to put into practice
every feint and feat that I had learned in old bathing times at home,
when sporting in the summer evenings in our little river. Speed,
though, and skill in swimming seemed unavailing here, as I felt the
waters wreathe round me, strangling me, as it were, in a cold embrace;
then seizing me to drag me here, to drag me there; dashing me against
this rock, against that, and directly after sending a cold chill of
horror through every nerve, as a recollection of the hideous reptiles
abounding in the river flashed upon me, when I felt myself sucked down
lower and lower in the vortex of some eddy between the rocks. It was
like dreaming of swimming in some horrible nightmare, my every effort
being checked when I strove to reach the drowning girl; and again and
again, when just on the point of clutching her light garments, I was
swept away, to begin once more fighting towards her with the energy of
despair.
At last, however, my arm was round her, and two little hands closed upon
my shoulders, clinging to me with a despairing grip, as I fought hard to
keep on the surface; but only to be swept here and there, helpless as a
fragment of wood, the muddy water the while thundering in my ears and
bubbling angrily at my lips.
Now up, now down--over, and over, and over, rolling along a shallow
smooth platform of rock, and then into deeper water again. I began to
feel that I was fighting my last fight, and that the enemy was too
strong.
But still I fought on--more feebly, 'tis true, but still with the
stubborn determination of an unworthy representative of that nation
which was said by a great general not to know when they were beaten.
Then came a respite, as I was swept into still water; but I was too weak
now to take advantage of it before I was borne into the next rapid,
foaming to receive me with my burden.
The river was here like a series of long rugged steps, with here fierce
tumbling waters, there a smooth interval, but only to be succeeded again
and again by broken water, into another foaming chaos of which I was
swept.
It was now one wild confusion of struggling wave and roaring, foaming
surf; then came a dim sense that I was half stunned by a fierce blow--
that I was growing weaker--that I was drowning fast; and for an instant
a pang shot through me as I seemed to see vividly a portion of my past
life, and thought of how hard it was to die so young.
I was again swept into the still water, and my arm struck out
involuntarily as, my lips well above water, I drew in a long breath--a
long invigorating draught of the breath of life; but my efforts were
feeble, and my mind was misty and confused, but only for a few moments.
In a flash, as it were of light, the horror of my position came upon me,
and I gave utterance to a cry of terror, for suddenly there was a fierce
rushing swirl in the water. I felt something strike me obliquely; then
the light figure I had striven so hard to save was almost jerked from my
arm, and the next instant we were being borne swiftly along through the
water upstream and towards the shore.
Jerk, jerk, jerk! and I gazed with horror upon the pale face close to
mine, fortunately insensible; my eyes seemed ready to start from their
sockets with horror; there was a sensation as of a ghostly hand stirring
my wet hair; and then once more I gave utterance to a strange hoarse cry
that startled even me; for as--in spite of my weakness--my mental
energies grew momentarily clearer I thoroughly realised the horror of
our position, and that we were being dragged rapidly away by one of the
ravenous reptiles of the river.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
IN THE WOODS.
Death, we are told, has been met by the brave-hearted again and again
unflinchingly; but such a death as was now threatening me and the poor
girl I was trying to save must have made the stoutest blench. For my
part, a chill of horror seemed to pass through every limb, thoroughly
unnerving me, so that my efforts were but feeble as I felt myself
sweeping through the water towards the bank, where the stream ran
swiftly, but free of rocks, while its eddies and whirlpools showed that
there were holes and places worn in beneath the banks, to one of which
it seemed evident the monster was making.
I made one desperate struggle, as, nearing the bank, the water
shallowed; but the slight figure was still dragged swiftly onward, while
twice over I felt the rough slimy body of the monster in contact with my
legs. All defence or attack--all prospect of escape, seemed out of the
question, and by the action of the water I was turned over helplessly
upon my back, the muddy stream flowing over my face half-strangling me.
I had during the last few moments been fast approaching to a dreamy
state, which dulled the acute horror of my position, and I believe that
a few more moments would have produced insensibility, when I was
galvanised, as it were, back into vigorous action by a sound as
something grazed my shoulder.
"Now, then, hold fast by the side--hold fast!" was shrieked in my ears
as a hand grasped mine, guiding it to the edge of the canoe, to which I
clung with renewed energy as we were racing through the shallows at a
tremendous rate. Then came a shouting, and the vigorous beating of the
water with a paddle, a tremendous rushing swirl, which nearly overset
the canoe, and our locomotion was at an end, the vessel floating lightly
in a deep pool beneath the trees. A few strokes of the paddle and the
prow struck the muddy bank; and before I could recover from the
prostration I felt myself dragged on to the grass, and my arm roughly
torn from the waist it so tightly encircled; but not before I had seen
that the clinging garments were torn--rent down one side, evidently
where the huge beast had seized its prey; and then there was the
muttering of voices, the rustling of the undergrowth as a passage was
forced through it, and we were alone.
"I'd have said thanky for a good deal less than that, if it had been
me," said Tom gruffly, as he stood gazing after the retreating party.
"They're a nice lot, Mas'r Harry--swam off like a set of copper-skinned
varmints, and left the gal to drownd; and when some one else has the
pluck to save her, they look savage and disappointed, and snatch her
away just as if they were recovering stolen goods. My eye, though,
Mas'r Harry, it was a narrer escape--worse than swinging under that old
donkey's nose!"
My only reply was a shudder.
"I didn't think it so precious bad, Mas'r Harry, when we was up at that
landing-place in the ship; but I do think now as we're getting it rather
warm: only ashore here a few days, and we've had our lodging shook about
our ears; I've been pitched over a precipice like the side of a house;
and you've been a'most swallowed and drowned by a great newt. I'll give
in. It is a trifle hotter than it was at home. But say, Mas'r Harry,
it ain't going to be all in this style, is it? Why it's like being
heroes in a book--Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday, and all on in that
tune, and us not knowing how much hotter we're going to have it!"
"Matter of chance, Tom," I said, wringing the water from my clothes as I
stood in the hot sun. "We may be here for years and have no more
adventures. Perhaps, after so rough a welcome, matters may turn out
gloriously."
Tom began to whistle and pick leaves to chew and spit out again, till I
pronounced my readiness to proceed.
"Paddles are both in the boat," said Tom, then, as he secured the canoe
by its bark rope to a tree, "we've got over the river, Mas'r Harry,
that's one thing; but how far we are down below the landing-place I
dunno, I'm sure."
We proved to be much farther below than I thought for, enough time
elapsing for my clothes to get nearly dry in the patches of hot sun we
passed as we wound our way through the forest, the rushing noise of the
river on our right guiding us in our efforts to keep within range of the
bank, which we avoided on account of the huge beasts we had seen basking
there.
"This is a rum sort of country and no mistake, Mas'r Harry," said Tom at
last, as he stood mopping the perspiration from his face; "but, somehow
or other, one feels just the same here as one did in the old place, and
I'm as hungry now as if I hadn't had a morsel to eat for a week. Is it
much farther, Mas'r Harry?"
"I don't know how many miles we've come," I replied.
But his words had fully accounted for a strange sensation of faintness
that troubled me. A little more perseverance, though, brought us to the
track--one that we might have reached in a quarter of the time had we
known the way.
A short walk showed us that we were correct, for we went along the track
to the river, so as to make sure of this being the one we sought--for
being lost in these wilds was something not to be thought of for a
minute. There, though, on the other side of the stream, was the
landing-place from which we had started, only to reach our present
position after a roundabout eventful journey.
"All right, Mas'r Harry--come along," said Tom, turning.
And now, pursuing the track, we found that we were gradually mounting a
slope, till the trees were left behind and we stood upon an eminence
looking down upon my uncle's house.
All that we had seen beautiful before seemed to fail before the picture
upon which we now gazed, where all that was lavish in nature had been
aided by the hand of man, cultivation subduing and enriching, till the
region below us blushed in beauty; for we were looking down upon a
lightly-built, pleasantly-shaded house, with its green jalousie-covered
windows, and great creeper-burdened verandah, gaily-painted, and running
right round the house.
The place stood in the midst of a grove of verdure of the most glorious
golden-green, rich with the great crimson, coral-like blossoms of what
is there called _madre del cacao_--the cocoa's mother--tall, regularly
planted trees, cultivated for the protection and shade they give to the
plants beneath, great bananas loaded with fruit, bright green coffee
bushes, and the cocoa with its pods, green, yellow, blood-red, and
purple. The roughly erected fences were, so to speak, smothered with
glorious trumpet-blossomed convolvuli, whose bright hues were peering
ever from a bed of heart and spear shaped richly green leaves.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
THE HACIENDA.
Clear and bright was the sky, and wherever the rays of the sun
penetrated it was for them to fall in a shower of golden arrows, and
form tracery upon the green carpet beneath the trees, amid whose
branches, screaming, chattering, climbing, and hanging head downwards,
or fluttering from bough to bough, were hundreds of rainbow-hued
parrots, beautiful as Nature's dyes could paint.
It was a scene of exceeding beauty, and was not lost even upon blunt,
hungry Tom.
"Well," he exclaimed, "if this don't pay for coming out, may I never
again wire out a bar of best mottled. It's a rum sort of country
though; one time frightening you to death, and the next minute coaxing
you into staying. S'pose, Mas'r Harry, that there's a sort of foreign
market-garden?"
"If I'm not mistaken, Tom, that's my uncle's plantation."
"With all my heart, Mas'r Harry; but choked as I am with thirst I should
like one of them pumpkins or some of the other outlandish fruits. Let's
have a pen'orth, sir. My! what a sight though! I hope this is the
spot. But there, only look, Mas'r Harry, did you ever see such
sparrows? Look at the colour of 'em! If I don't take home a cageful,
and one of them red and yaller poll-parrots, I don't stand here now.
But are you sure your uncle Reuben lives here, Mas'r Harry?"
"I think this must be the spot, Tom," I said, "according to the guide's
description."
"Why, he must be quite a lord, sir. He's never touched taller or soap
in his life, I'll bet. But, say, Mas'r Harry, we look rough uns to go
and see him, don't us?"
I laughed and then led the way, Tom following close behind, till we
entered a sort of court-yard surrounded by sheds, with men and women
busily at work at what I afterwards learned was the preparation of the
cocoa.
"And you're Harry Grant then, are you?" said a tall, brown-skinned man,
who was pointed out to me as the owner of the place, and who, upon my
introducing myself, received me with a hearty English grip of the hand.
"Hang it, my lad, it brings old times back to see a face fresh from
home! You're your mother's boy plain enough. But come in, and welcome,
my lad, though we have been in a bit of a stew; my girl upset in a canoe
and half drowned; but the gentleman with her saved her. She's not much
the worse for it, though."
I turned round hastily and just in time to stop Tom, who was about to
blurt out the whole affair, for I thought it better to be silent, I
hardly knew why, my mind being just then in a state of confusion, it
being rather startling to find that I had probably been the means of
saving the life of my own cousin; though why the gentleman who was with
her--whoever he might be--should have the credit of what Tom and I had
done, I did not know. Anyhow, I was to be beneath the same roof, and I
thought matters would come right in the end.
My uncle led the way into a cool half-darkened room, where I was
introduced to an aunt, of whose existence I was not aware, inasmuch as
she was the lately married widow of a neighbouring planter. Then I
heard my uncle say:
"Not lying down, Lill? All right again? Glad of it! Well, this is a
cousin for you, and I hope you will be good friends."
I hardly know what I did or said just then; for timidly coming forward
out of the shade, I saw the fair vision of the morning, but now deadly
pale--the maiden whom a couple of hours before I had rescued from so
horrible a death. She was dressed in a simple muslin, and her long fair
hair, yet clammy and damp, was tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and
hung down her shoulders. It was the same sweet English face that might
be seen in many a country home far away in our northern islands; but out
there, in that tropic land, with its grand scenery and majestic
vegetation, she seemed to me, in spite of her pallor, to be fairy-like
and ethereal; and for a while, as I thought of the events of a short
time before--events in which she was unconscious that I had played a
somewhat important part--I was blundering and awkward, and unable to say
more than a few of the commonest words of greeting.
I have no doubt that they all thought me an awkward clumsy oaf, and I
must have looked it; but I was suddenly brought to myself by my uncle's
voice and the sight of a pair of eyes.
"Harry," said my uncle, performing the ceremony of introduction,
"Mr--(I beg his pardon) Don--Don Pablo Garcia, a neighbour of mine--the
gentleman who just saved Lilla's life. Garcia, my nephew--my sister's
son--from old England."
Instinctively I held out my hand, and the next moment it was clasping
something cold and damp and fishlike. A few words in English passed,
but they were muttered mechanically, and for a few moments, each
apparently unable to withdraw his hand, we two stood looking in each
other's eyes, my expression--if it was a true index of my heart--being
that of wonder and distrust; for I seemed again, for the first time in
my life, to be undergoing a new series of sensations. I knew in that
instant of time that I was gazing into the eyes of a deadly enemy--of a
man who, for self-glorification, had arrogated to himself the honour of
having saved Lilla's life, probably under the impression that we, being
strangers, were bound down the river, and would never again turn up to
contradict him. What he had said, how much he had taken upon himself,
or how much had been laid upon him through the lying adulations of his
Indian servants, I do not know; but I was conscious of an intense look
of hatred and dislike--one that was returned by a glance of contempt
which made his teeth slightly grate together, though he tried to conceal
all by a snake-like smile as he recovered himself, and, seeking a way
out of his difficulty, exclaimed:
"The senor and I have met before: he helped me to save our woodland
flower from the river."
"Indeed! my dear Harry!" exclaimed my uncle, catching my disengaged hand
in his, while by an effort I dragged the other away from Garcia's cold
clutch, his eyes fixing mine the while, and seeming to say, "Be careful,
or I'll have your life!"--mine, if they could speak a language that he
could interpret, plainly saying, "You cowardly hound, you left her to
perish!"
"It was nothing on my part, Uncle," I said quietly. "Nothing but what
any fellow from the old country would have done."
The next moment Mrs Landell, my new aunt, had thrown her arms round my
neck. Formality of greeting was at an end, and, with tears in her eyes,
she thanked me and welcomed me to the hacienda.
I was longing for the scene to be at an end, for I was growing troubled
and confused, when once more the tell-tale blood swept into my face, as
I blushed like a great girl; for Lilla came up, and with the colour
mantling, too, in her pale cheeks, thanked me for what I had done.
It was some few minutes before I was sufficiently cool and collected to
have a good look at Garcia, when I found him to be a tall, well-shaped,
and swarthy young fellow, about five years my senior. He was handsome,
but there was a sinister look about his dark eyes, and, in spite of his
effeminacy, his lithe limbs betokened great strength. An instinctive
feeling of dislike, though, kept growing upon me, although there was a
pleasant smile, and a display of regular white teeth, which he turned
upon me every time he encountered my eyes, as he lounged about smoking a
cigar, whose fragrance betokened its origin. He was easy of mien,
well-dressed, and evidently at home there; while by contrast I was
shabby, travel-stained, and awkward.
I disliked him at first, because I knew him to be a cur and a liar; but
soon--ay, before ten minutes had elapsed--I knew why my instinctive
dislike was increasing every moment we were together. I learned why we
were to be enemies to the end; for after smoking some time in silence,
listening the while with smiling face to my uncle's questions concerning
home--questions which I answered clumsily, growing each moment more put
out and annoyed; for it seemed to me that Garcia's smiles were pitying,
and that he was comparing his grace with my awkwardness--he rose,
crossed over to Lilla, who was seated, took her hand in his as if it
belonged to him of right, raised it to his lips, and then, with a
smiling farewell to all present, he whispered a few words to my cousin,
gave me--his lips smiling the while--a sharp meaning look from between
his half-closed eyelids, and then his figure darkened for an instant the
sunshine streaming in at the door, and he was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS.
"Well, lad," said my uncle, when, refreshed by a pleasant bath and a
glass or two of goodly wine with the meal spread for me, I sat with him
in the shaded room, my aunt--a pleasant, comely, Englishwoman--seated
with her daughter, working by one of the open windows--"well, lad,
people don't come a four or five thousand miles' journey on purpose to
pay visits. What have you got in your eye?"
"Frankly, Uncle," I said, "I don't know. I could not rest at home, and
felt that I must go abroad; and now I must say that I am glad of my
resolution."
I thought at first, as I was speaking, of the beautiful scenery, but in
the latter part of my speech I was looking towards Lilla, and for a
moment our eyes met.
My uncle shook his head as I finished speaking.
"Soap-boiling isn't a pleasant trade, Harry," he said; "but as the old
saying goes, `Dirty work brings clean money.' There's always been a
comfortable home for you, hasn't there?"
"Yes, Uncle," I said impatiently.
"And plenty to eat, and drink, and wear?"
"Yes, Uncle."
"And your father kept you at good schools till you were seventeen or
eighteen?"
"Yes, Uncle."
"Then--it's plain speaking, but I must give it to you, Harry--you were a
young fool to leave it all. You were like the dog with the shadow,
you've dropped a good mouthful of meat to grasp at nothing. You'd have
done better sticking to the soap."
"I couldn't, Uncle," I exclaimed.
"Ah! that's what all you young donkeys say. Only to think of it--
throwing up the chance of a good, sure trade!"
"But, my dear uncle, I was so unsuited for it, though I am ready enough
to work. If you can give me employment, pray do so, for do not think I
have come to be a burden to you."
"My dear boy," he said gravely, "I don't think anything of the sort.
You are welcome here; and we owe you, it seems, the life of our dear
child, though what your share was in saving her I don't know. Don't
think, though, that we are not glad to see you. There," he said,
laughing, "there's your aunt ready again to throw her arms around your
neck, you see."
Mrs Landell had dropped her work and crossed over to lay her hand upon
my shoulder, while there was a tear--one bright, gem-like tear of
gratitude--sparkling in Lilla's eye as she looked up timidly from her
work, and that stupid young heart of mine gave a tremendous thump
against my chest.
There was a pause then for a few minutes, when, in a thick, husky voice,
I once more tried to speak.
"I'm sure," I said, "your welcome is warmer than I deserve; and indeed,
Uncle, I wish to be no burden to you. If you would rather not employ
me, say so frankly; but perhaps you might, all the same, put me in the
way of getting on as you have done."
"As I have done!" he said laughing. "I see, my dear boy, you look at
things with just the same eyes that I did when I came over years ago.
It's a lovely country, isn't it, Harry?"
"Glorious!" I cried excitedly.
"Yes," he said sadly; "glorious as the gilded frame of a mirror, all
lustre and brightness, while underneath it is composition, and wood, and
ill-smelling glue. Why, my dear boy, I am only living from hand to
mouth. This looks, of course, all very bright and beautiful to you, and
a wonderful contrast to hazy, foggy, cold old England--Heaven bless it!
But fire-flies, and humming-birds, and golden sunshine, and
gaily-painted blossoms are not victuals and drink, Harry; and, besides,
when you set to and earn your victuals and drink, you don't know but
what they will all be taken away from you. We've no laws here, my lad,
worth a rush. We're a patriotic people here, with a great love of our
country--we Spanish, half-bred republican heroes," he said bitterly,
"and we love that country so well, Harry, that we are always murdering
and enriching it with the blood of its best men. It might be a glorious
place, but man curses it, and we are always having republican struggles,
and bloodshed, and misery. We are continually having new presidents,
here, my lad; and after being ruined three times, burned out twice, and
saving my life by the skin of my teeth, the bright flowers and great
green leaves seem to be powdered with ashes, and I'd gladly, any day,
change this beautiful place, with its rich plantations, for fifty acres
of land in one of the shires at home."
"But don't you take rather a gloomy view of it all, Uncle?" I said, as
I looked at him curiously.
But to my great discomfiture he burst out laughing, for he had read my
thoughts exactly.
"My liver is as sound as yours, Harry, my boy," he said; "and I don't
believe that there's a heartier man within fifty miles. No, my lad, I'm
not jaundiced. There's no real prosperity here. The people are a lazy,
loafing set, and never happy but when they are in hot water. There's
the old, proud hidalgo blood mixed up in their veins; they are too grand
to work--too lazy to wash themselves. There isn't a decent fellow in
the neighbourhood, except one, and his name is Garcia--eh, Lill?" he
said, laughing.
Lilla's face crimsoned as she bent over her work, while a few minutes
after she rose and whispered to Mrs Landell.
"You must excuse me, Harry," said my aunt, rising. "Lilla is unwell;
the shock has been too much for her."
The next moment I was alone with my uncle, who proceeded in the same
bitter strain:
"Yes, my lad, commerce is all nohow here--everything's sluggish, and I
cannot see how matters are to mend. I'm glad to see you--heartily glad
you have come. Stay with us a few months if you are determined upon a
colonial life; see all you can of the country and judge for yourself;
but Heaven forbid that I should counsel my sister's child to settle in
such a revolutionary place!"
I was not long in finding out the truth of my uncle's words. The place
was volcanic, and earthquakes of no uncommon occurrence; but Nature in
the soil was not one half as bad as Nature in the human race--Spanish
half-blood and Indian--with which she had peopled the region, for they
were, to a man, stuffed with explosive material, which the spark of some
speaker's language was always liable to explode.
But I was delighted with the climate, in spite of the heat; and during
the calm, cool evenings, when the moon was glancing through the trees,
bright, pure, and silvery, again and again I thought of how happy I
could be there but for one thing.
That one thing was not the nature of the people nor their revolutionary
outbursts, for I may as well own that commerce or property had little
hold upon my thoughts until I found how necessary the latter was for my
success. My sole thought in those early days, and the one thing that
troubled me, was the constant presence of my uncle's wealthy neighbour,
Pablo Garcia.
It was plain enough that he had been for months past a visitor, and that
he had been looked upon as a suitor for Lilla's hand; but I could not
discover whether she favoured him or no, for after meeting him a few
times his very presence, with his calm, supercilious treatment of one
whom he evidently hated from the bottom of his soul, was so galling to
me, that upon his appearance I used to go out and ramble away for hours
together, seeking the wilder wooded parts, and the precipitous spurs of
the mountains, climbing higher and higher, till more than once in some
lonely spot I came upon some trace of a bygone civilisation--ruined
temple, or palace of grand proportions, but now overthrown and crumbling
into dust, with the dense vegetation of the region springing up around,
and in many places so covering it that it was only by accident that I
discovered, in the darkened twilight of the leafy shade, column or
mouldering wall, and then sat down to wonder and try and think out of
the histories of the past who were the people that had left these traces
of a former grandeur, and then over some carven stone light would spring
to my understanding--a light that brought with it a thrill of hope.
Then I would return, as night threatened to hide the track, back to my
uncle's, to be treated coldly, as I thought, by Lilla, while more than
once it seemed that my uncle gazed upon me in a troubled way.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
TOM SPEAKS HIS MIND.
A couple of months soon glided away--a time of mingled misery and
pleasure. At one time I was light-hearted and happy, at another
low-spirited and depressed; for I could not see that there was the
slightest prospect of my hopes ever bearing fruit. I was growing
nervous, too, about Garcia; not that I feared him, but his manner now
betokened that he bore me ill-will of the most intense character.
As for Lilla, the longer I was at the hacienda the more plain it became
that she feared him, shuddering at times when he approached--tokens of
dislike that made his eyes flash, and for which it was very evident that
he blamed me.
But his blame was unjust; he had credited me with having made known the
cowardly part he had played on the river; but though my uncle and aunt
were ignorant of it, the news reached Lilla's ears, the medium being Tom
Bulk.
Tom had settled down very comfortably at the hacienda, taking to smoking
and hanging about the plantation sheds, and doing a little here or there
as it pleased him, but none the less working very hard; and many a time
I had come across him glistening with perspiration as he tugged at some
heavy bag with all an Englishman's energy when all around were
sluggishly looking on. He studiously avoided the woods, though, save
when he saw me off upon a ramble; and it was one day when I was standing
by Lilla's side at an open window, previous to taking a long walk, that
our attention was taken up by high words in the yard close at hand.
That Tom was one of the actors was plain enough, for his words came
loud, clear, and angry to where we stood; and it was evident that he was
taking the part of one of the Indian girls, who was weeping, probably
from blows inflicted by one of her countrymen, whose gallantry is not
proverbial.
"You red varmint," cried Tom fiercely, "I'll let you know what's what!
We don't strike women in our country--no, not even if they hit us."
Interested as I was, the recollection of a sharp slap I had heard at
home would come to my memory.
"And I tell you what, if you touch her again I'll make that face of
yours a prettier colour than it is now."
"Pray go and tell my father," whispered Lilla anxiously. "Quarrels here
are very serious sometimes, and end in loss of life."
Crack! There was the sound of a blow followed by a woman's shriek of
pain.
"Why, you cowardly hound!" I heard Tom shout. "You dare hit _her_,
then--you who sneaked off along with your grand Spanish Don when the
boat was upset, and left young miss to drown! You're a brave one, you
are, and then you all go and take the credit, when it was my Mas'r Harry
who saved her. Take that, you beggar, and that--and that!"
Tom's words were accompanied by the sounds of heavy blows; and on
leaping out of the window I came upon him, squaring away, and delivering
no meanly-planted blows upon the chests and faces of a couple of
Indians, while a woman crouched, trembling and weeping, and writhing
with pain, upon the ground.
"That's a settler for you anyhow!" said Tom, as he sent one of his
adversaries staggering back for a few yards, to fall heavily, when the
other retreated, but only for both to out with a knife each, and again
come forward to the attack.
But my appearance upon the scene stayed them, and they slunk scowling
away.
"I'll knock the wind out of some on 'em, Mas'r Harry, spite of their
knives," cried Tom excitedly. "I'll let 'em know how an Englishman
serves them that knocks women about. Hit her with a great thick stick,
he did--cuss him! I'll let him know!"
"Be quiet, Tom! Are you mad?" I said, catching him by the collar, for
he was squaring away at the Indians, who were a couple of dozen yards
away.
"What did he go knocking her about for? Yah! Mas'r Harry, they're a
rotten lot out here, and the country's a thousand times too good for
them!"
By degrees I got Tom cooled down, and into the house, and on returning I
found Lilla standing watching for me at the window, but only to gaze at
me with a strange, troubled look, half pain, half pleasure, and before I
could speak she had fled.
But an hour had not passed before I came upon her again, speaking
anxiously to Tom. They did not see me approach, and as I was close up I
was just in time to hear Tom exclaim:
"But he did, Miss, and stuck to you when all the rest had got ashore--
the Don and all."
Lilla gave a faint shriek as I spoke; and then darting at me a look of
reproach, she hurried away, leaving me excited and troubled; for she had
learned a secret that I had intended should not come to her ears.
"How dare you go chattering about like that?" I cried fiercely to Tom,
for I was anxious to have some one to blame.
"Don't care, Mas'r Harry," he said sulkily. "Miss Lilla asked me, and I
never told her only the truth. They are a cowardly set of hounds, the
whole lot of 'em; and I'll take any couple of 'em, one down and t'other
come on, with a hand tied behind me."
"We shall have to go, Tom," I said bitterly. "What with your brawls and
the mischief you have made, this will be no place for us."
I spoke with gloomy forebodings in my mind, for I could not but think
that trouble was to be our lot. Poor and without prospects, and with a
rich and favoured rival, what was I to hope for? Indeed I felt ready to
despair.
"Say, Mas'r Harry," said Tom penitently, "'tain't so bad as that, is
it?"
"Bad! Yes, Tom," I said gloomily, and I turned and left him.
It was a day or two after. I had only seen Lilla at meals, to find her
shy and _distraite_. She hardly seemed to notice me, but I had the
satisfaction of seeing that Garcia fared no better.
But he smiled pleasantly, evidently to conceal the rage that burned
within him, and more than once there was a hateful glare in his eye that
evidently boded no good to those who crossed his path; and it seemed as
if I had not only crossed his path, but now stood right in his way.
We had just finished the mid-day meal. Garcia had been with us, and on
Lilla rising he had followed her to the door; but she had turned from
him with a look of contempt, when, white with passion, he had been
unable to control himself, but dashed out of the place, muttering
fiercely.
My uncle had seen all, and his countenance lowered, but for a while he
did not speak. He walked to a closet, took out a cigar, and sat smoking
till Mrs Landell had left the room, when, beckoning me to him, he
pointed to a chair, and then, as soon as I was seated, he gave utterance
to what was in his mind.
"Harry, my lad," he said, "I am a plain, straightforward fellow, and I
like frankness. I'm going now to speak very plainly to you, for I'm not
blind. You've taken a fancy to little Lill."
I rose, holding by the back of my chair, blushed, blundered, and then
stood without a word.
"I see I am right," he said coolly. "But look here, Hal. I can't call
to mind a single dishonourable act committed by a member of either of
the families from which you sprang. Now listen to me: have you ever
said a word--you know what I mean--to Lilla?"
"Oh, no, Uncle!" I exclaimed warmly.
"Quite right, my lad--quite right, for it would not do. You see, Hal,
she has money in her own right, and you are not worth twopence. The
girl is in my care. I hold her from her relations, as it were, in
trust; and it seems to me that it would be like taking advantage of my
position if I encouraged anything between her and a poor relative of my
own. You'll have to go away, Harry, unless you can make me a promise,
and keep to it."
"What am I to promise?" I said gloomily; for he had ceased speaking;
and I began to realise what going away meant. "What am I to promise?"
I said again.
"Promise me, as a man of honour, that you will not in any way take
advantage of your position here."
"Is it likely," I said bitterly, "when I am not worth twopence, and
there is some one else in the field?"
"Don't be spiteful, lad, because things don't go as you wish. We all
have to bear crosses in our time. But, as you say, there's some one
else in the field. Garcia is an old lover, and I am under obligations
to him. You must not in any way cross his path, Hal, for he is rich,
and possesses a good deal of power over the Indians about here. I
should say, Hal, that in this lawless country that man's life would not
be safe who stood between him and his wishes. Don't offend him, Hal--
don't offend him, Hal. He's a good fellow, but, like all those
half-bloods, very susceptible."
"I'll promise you anything you like," I said gloomily, "but don't send
me away. Let me stay and do something so as not to be an encumbrance to
you, but don't send me away."
"No one wants to send you away, Hal," said my uncle kindly. "Look about
you and see the country; shoot and fish a little, too. I need not say,
beware of the caymen--the river swarms with them. See all you can of
the place, and then you'll have to try somewhere else. Texas or one of
the States--those are the places for a young fellow like you."
I sighed to myself, for it seemed to me now that there was no place on
earth bearable but the one where Lilla dwelt; and then, clapping me on
the shoulder, my uncle rose and went out.
I followed him at the end of a few minutes; and, so as to be alone, I
wandered away from the house and heedlessly took one of the paths that
led down to the river bank.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
UNDER FASCINATION.
It was very hot, but I did not notice it as I walked slowly and
thoughtfully on. The sun was kept from beating down upon me by the
dense foliage, but there was a steamy heat arising that at another time
I should have felt oppressive. The country was so completely in a state
of nature all around that half a mile from the hacienda one almost
seemed to be traversing places where the foot of man had never trod.
But nothing seemed then to take my attention, for I was forcing myself
to remember that I was to think no more about Lilla; and at last I had
worked myself round to believe that I should respect the promise given
to my uncle, while I devoted myself to a project that had fixed itself
in my mind--a project full of romance and imagination, one that might
make me wealthy--in a position wherein I could laugh at Garcia's
pretensions and boldly ask my uncle's consent, for I was hopeful of
obtaining Lilla's. I was poor now, but need not remain so. Suppose by
one grand stroke I could possess myself of the riches of a prince--how
then?
The thought of it all was so exciting that I strode on, rapt in the
golden vision, till reason pointed out two obstacles: I might not
succeed; and even if I did succeed, I might be too late and find that
Garcia had won the prize we both had coveted.
"I'll try, though," I muttered.
And then I laughed bitterly as I thought of my uncle's warning. I was
not afraid of Garcia, for he was at heart, I knew, a coward; but until I
was in a position to come forward I felt sadly that my duty was to avoid
Lilla--to leave all to the future; for, with the chances of failure so
strongly opposed to me, it would not have been fair to have asked her to
wait for what might never come to pass; and then, with the recollection
of my beggarly position taunting me, I told myself bitterly that I might
as well go back home and turn soap-boiler, and not stay out there
indulging in golden dreams.
It was a scene almost of enchantment where I stood musing, but the
beauties around had no charms for me. I was too much engrossed with the
thoughts of old readings respecting the region in which I then was. I
was recalling its history and the assertions of old writers respecting
its wealth in gems and the precious metals. I did not see that now and
then a timid deer had gazed at me for a moment and then bounded away
through the brake; neither that again and again a deadly cascabel had
glided, worm-like, almost from beneath my feet, uttering a low, ominous
hiss as it wriggled away through the tall grass. Gorgeously-painted
butterflies, grand in size, fluttered before me, to settle here and
there upon some blossom bright as themselves, and then flit away again
through the shadowy, golden-rayed forest arcades. Gem-like
humming-birds darted here and there, while hardly less bright parroquets
of many a hue shrieked, whistled, and climbed in restless fashion
around. Once there was a heavy, scuffling noise, and a small alligator
dashed away towards a creek; but I could see nothing but gold--gold that
should make me rich and win for me Lilla's love--a love that I dared to
hope was mine already, even though I was but a beggarly adventurer.
Gold--always gold--everything was gilded; and through the golden haze
that seemed to glow around me I saw a golden future of brightness, and
happiness, and love. I grew more and more excited with the thoughts
that pressed upon me, and at last, with a sensation of triumph, I
exclaimed aloud:
"History shall be my divining-rod and the earth shall yield up her
treasures! I shall not be the first adventurer to the golden mines who
has brought home treasures; only that, if I win, I shall also gain a
treasure greater far than those of old, for Lilla will also be my
prize."
This was the kind of mental stilt-talking I indulged in that day, seeing
only the golden side. No doubt it seems very romantic and silly to the
reader; but I have known young men, taken badly with that distemper
called first love, just as romantic and excitable. In fact, many of us
as we grow older recall our sensations, acts, and deeds, felt and
performed during that strange delirium, with something like a smile upon
our lips, though at the time every reader will agree with me I was
somewhat of a goose.
I was romantic enough, and could only see the golden side; but there was
a future before me such as I could not dream of--a reverse, terrible,
thrilling, and enough, could I have penetrated the unknown, to have made
me turn shuddering away, daring not, for the sake of others, to
prosecute searches whose results would have been too terrible to
contemplate.
Rousing myself from my reverie, with my mind fully made up as to my
future proceedings, I looked round, to find that I was but a very short
distance from the hacienda, in a beautiful part of the forest that my
uncle had as yet spared, but which he talked of, before long, clearing
and adding to the plantation which it bounded.
I walked on for a dozen yards, parting the undergrowth as I went,
walking cautiously now, for I had suddenly awakened to the fact that
there might be danger in every bush or tuft of luxuriant, reedy grass;
but there was, I knew, a beaten track a little farther on which led to
the plantation, through which I meant to return.
And then, fifty yards through the dense vegetation, I came upon a
creek--a mere ditch--leading to the river, half full of marshy growth,
when, walking back a few yards for impetus, I ran from the bank, and was
in the act of leaping the creek when every nerve seemed to thrill with a
horrible sense of chilling dread, as beneath my feet there was a rushing
rustling noise, mingled with the splashing of mud and water, the reedy
grass bent and waved in different directions, and, though invisible to
me, it was evident that some hideous beast--reptile, or whether serpent
or cayman I could not tell--was retreating towards the river, perhaps
only to turn upon me the next moment.
The danger was not visible; but unseen perils are sometimes more
dreadful than those we meet face to face, when the imagination does not
magnify the horror.
At any rate, with my heart beating heavily I alighted amongst the grass
on the other side, dashed on, and a few minutes after was in the track,
down which I turned, but only to stop spell-bound the next minute, as I
reached a flowery opening across which lay the decaying huge trunk of a
large fallen tree.
The place was a dense thicket all around of bright-hued blossoms, with
their attendant train of bird and gorgeous insect. Huge trees threw
their sheltering arms across, to break up the sun's rays into golden
showers, which flecked and danced upon every verdant spot; but the great
beauty of the scene which held me there was the sight of Lilla seated
upon the fallen trunk, her little straw hat hanging from one
muslin-covered arm by the knotted strings, and a little basket filled to
overflowing with bright-hued flowers fallen at her feet.
I could not move nor speak for a few minutes, and then I was hesitating
as to what I should do: avoid every meeting such as this out of respect
to my promise, or warn her that but a short distance back I had come
upon some hidden danger.
"She will laugh at me," I thought. "She is so used to hear of the
forest inhabitants; and besides, after all, I did not see anything; it
may only have been some timid animal escaping. I will go back another
way."
In spite of myself a sigh escaped me as I gazed at the graceful form;
and then, as I leaned forward it seemed to me that her attitude was
unnatural and strained--that she was gazing intently upwards, as if at
something a short distance above her head. I took a step forward--
another and another, but she did not move; when, following the direction
of her gaze, I found her eyes were fixed with a strange fascination at
the great bough above her--a huge gnarled and knotted bough, with here
and there a tuft of foliage upon it, while its great thick bark was
tinted and shady with rich brown and umber mosses, and--
"Good heavens!" I ejaculated, and then I was speechless. A sense of
horror was constricting my heart. I was, as it were, fixed to the
ground where I stood, hardly able to breathe, for as I had gazed at the
rich marking on the great knotted limb a strange shuddering vibration
had passed through it--it was in motion for many feet along its thickest
part, and the umber markings glistened; for they were upon the scaly
skin of a huge serpent, lying in many a fold and convolution upon the
mighty bough.
What did it mean--what was going to happen?
I could not tell; but a deadly sickness came over me--a cold clammy
perspiration bedewed my limbs. I could only see as through a mist, but
plainly enough I could make out that fold was gliding over fold in a
horrible lacing and enlacing of gigantic knots, till slowly the
reptile's head was thrust forward, with a gentle waving motion, rising
from amidst a tuft of leaves; and then, as the gliding of the folds
continued, the head descended in a slow, waving, swinging fashion, foot
after foot nearer and nearer to Lilla, a forked tongue flashing and
playing about the frightful jaws, and the hideous eyes fascinating the
poor girl, so that I saw her gradually moving towards it.
Slowly, and ever rising and falling, the huge serpent's head was lowered
foot after foot of its vast length while fold after fold was gliding
over the bough, and all this while I stood fixed to the earth as in the
nightmare of a horrible dream.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
WHAT FOLLOWED THE ESCAPE.
I said at the end of the last chapter that it was like being in the
nightmare of some horrible dream. I repeat that assertion; for as I
recall my sensations I see again the horrible swaying head playing
gently up and down, nearer and nearer, the sun glistening on the
burnished coils, while others were hidden, to have their presence
revealed by the quivering of twig and trembling of leaf, as they passed
fold over fold, the monstrous reptile playing, as it were, with its
victim, and approaching in a slow leisurely manner; but it was with the
sense that in an instant it could fling itself upon its prey with the
speed, force, and certainty of a well-cast lasso. It was the play of
the cat tribe with prey; for I knew the mighty strength and elasticity
of the coils--how they could dart, plunge, and then be rolled one upon
the other round a helpless body in a hideous knot--how the knot would
tighten till bones cracked and splintered, and the victim was reduced to
a shapeless mass, ready to receive the horrible saliva of the monster
previous to deglutition.
I could only stand with tottering knees, parted lips, staring eyes, and
painfully drawn breath, longing to engage in the unequal fight, or to,
at least, make some noise to divert the horrible beast; but my mouth and
throat were dry--I could not utter a sound. I was numbed in body, but
the mental anguish was fearful, for all activity seemed to have fled to
the seat of thought and in imagination I saw all that was to follow.
And all this time--a time whose duration seemed to me hours--Lilla did
not move. At first, while being drawn under the loathsome reptile's
fascination, she had gradually leaned towards it, till, fixed of eye,
she had stopped perfectly motionless, as inch after inch her intended
murderer approached.
I would gladly have closed my eyes, but I could not, any more than I
could afford help. And now, unwilling witness that I was, I saw that
the moment of extreme horror was approaching, for the serpent had drawn
its folds on to a portion of the branch free from foliage; the coils
were bent as if ready for a spring, the head was drawn back, the jaws
distended; and at last I gave utterance to a hoarse cry and sprang
forward, the spell that had held me was broken, and the next instant
Lilla was in my arms, just as I heard a rustle; then there was a rush,
and I was dashed violently to the ground.
But there were no coils round either of us, lashing us in a horrible
embrace--no fangs were fixed in my shoulder; but lashing, darting, and
whipping itself, as it were, in every direction, beating down tall grass
and bushy growth, its horrible eyes flashing with pain and rage, the
serpent was close at hand, while the next instant its coils were wrapt
round a large jaguar, whose teeth and claws were fixed in the thickest
part of the reptile, the creature holding on with all its might, at the
same time that, cat-like in its every act, it tore and ripped away at
its enemy's body with the great talons of its hinder paws.
There was a fierce, savage, worrying growl, the snapping and rustling of
tree and shrub, the lashing about of the serpent's body, as, now coiled
round its assailant, now forced by agony to unwind, the two terrors of
the South American forest continued their struggle. Now they were
half-hidden by the undergrowth, whose disturbance only showed the
changes in the savage warfare; now they struggled into sight, and it was
very evident that the serpent was being worsted in the encounter, the
jaguar having in the first strokes of its powerfully-armed hind paws
inflicted terrible wounds, which incapacitated the reptile from using
its potent weapon--the crushing power of its folds.
For a few minutes I could hardly believe in our escape from so horrible
a peril; but, so far, we were undoubtedly safe, the tide of war now
beginning, indeed, to roll away, it being evident that the jaguar was
thoroughly worsting its enemy. At last I saw the huge tail of the
serpent rise above the long grass, to vibrate and quiver in the air,
twisting as if the horrible beast were in extreme agony; then it
disappeared, and I prepared to try and bear Lilla away, for it was plain
that the long-continued struggle was bringing the combatants back
towards where we crouched.
But they only came near enough for me to catch, amidst the rapid
evolutions, two or three glimpses of the jaguar's glistening, spotted
coat, as he clung, still apparently unharmed, to his long lithe
adversary, whose head was darting here, there, everywhere, in search of
an avenue for escape. Then, again, came a series of writhing
contortions, as the serpent twined itself in its agony round the
quadruped; and over and over, with the foliage crackling and snapping,
they rolled, but ever now farther and farther away, till it was with a
feeling of extreme thankfulness that I knelt there, holding the fainting
girl in my arms, gazing eagerly in her pale face, and thinking of the
fearful fate she had escaped.
Her eyes unclosed the next moment, to gaze in mine with a wild horrified
aspect, till, awaking fully to the fact that she was saved, she flung
her arms tightly round my neck, clinging to me, and then buried her
face, sobbing vehemently, in my bosom.
Lilla had just raised her blushing face to mine, as she tried now,
feebly, to free herself from my protecting arms; and then I started
angrily up, for from close behind came the words:
"Say, Mas'r Harry, is that there the custom of the country?"
"You impertinent dog, how dare you?" I exclaimed angrily. "What do you
mean by spying there, and then asking such a question?"
"Only wanted to know, Mas'r Harry; because if it is the custom it's all
right; if it ain't the custom it's all wrong, and Master Landell and the
Don, who are close behind, might think it queer."
"We've just had a narrow escape from a most horrible death, Tom," I
exclaimed hastily. "Thank you for your warning."
The next moment voices were audible. There was the rustling of the
foliage, and as Lilla stood pale and leaning heavily upon my arm, my
uncle and Garcia came hastily into sight.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
TROPHIES.
I have seen some villainous-looking countenances in my time, but none
more abhorrent of aspect than was that of Pablo Garcia, as, distorted
with rage, he started on seeing Lilla resting half supported by me. The
handsome regularity of his features seemed then to have the effect of
making the distortion more striking. There was an angry frown, too,
upon my uncle's face as he strode up; and, almost roughly taking Lilla
from me, he exclaimed hoarsely:
"Harry, after what I said I did not expect this."
"It was quite by accident we met, Uncle. Lilla has had a terrible
shock," I exclaimed hastily. "A hideous serpent--terrible conflict--"
I stopped short, for there was a sneering grin of disbelief on Garcia's
countenance, which made me want to dash my fist in his face, as he said:
"Very terrible conflict--a very dragon attacking the maiden, and this
new Saint George of England coming to her rescue. I don't see any blood
about."
"I should like to make some come from his nose," muttered Tom.
"What has happened?" said my uncle frowning; for he did not seem to like
Garcia's allusion.
Lilla spoke in faint trembling tones:
"I was resting after gathering those flowers, when a rustling overhead
took my attention, and--ah!--"
She shuddered, turned pale, and covered her face with her hands, quite
unable to proceed; when my uncle turned to me, and I explained what I
had seen, in proof of which I turned to the beaten-down foliage, upon
which lay thickly, in spite of Garcia's words, fast-drying spots and
gouts of blood, which we traced right down to the river's bank, in a
dense bed of reeds, where they ceased, and it was not thought advisable
to search farther.
"Let us get back, my child," said my uncle tenderly to Lilla. "You must
come alone into the woods no more."
There was a troubled and meaning tone in my uncle's words, and more than
once I caught his eye directed at me. But directly after he moved off
towards the hacienda, closely followed by Garcia, while I hung back
undecided how to act; for I was suffering from a troubled conscience, as
I thought of the promise I had so lately given.
My reverie was interrupted by Tom, who had been standing unnoticed.
"Did you see Muster Garshar, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "how he showed you
the whole of his teeth, just like a mad dog going to bite?"
"No, Tom; I did not take particular notice of him," I said.
"Well, I did, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if you take my advice you'll
look out; for they're a rum lot here, as you know. They don't hit with
the fist, only when that there fist has got an ugly-looking knife in it,
sharp as a razor; and when they hit a poor fellow with it, and he dies
afterwards, they don't call it murder--they call it fighting--a set of
uncultivated, ignorant savages! I only wish I had the teaching of them!
But look here, Mas'r Harry, you'll take care, won't you?"
"Why, Tom?" I said dreamily.
"Why, Mas'r Harry? Why? because Muster Garshar don't like you--not a
bit. That's all."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Ah! you may hyste your shoulders till you skretches your ears with
them, Mas'r Harry; but that don't make no better of it. I promised your
mother as I'd take care of you and stick to you; but how am I to do that
if you get yourself spoiled somehow or other? But, say, Mas'r Harry,
was it such a werry big un?"
"Was what a very big one?" I said wonderingly.
"Why, the sarpint--it might have been a sea-sarpint, for nobody seemed
to believe in it."
"Yes," I said moodily, "an enormous beast."
"And he got it pretty hot from the tiger thing?"
"You saw the blood about, and now hold your tongue."
"But I ain't done yet, Mas'r Harry," said Tom eagerly. "That there Don
wouldn't believe in it, and we knowed that it went into that brake.
What do you say to going up to the house, getting the guns, and then
shooting the beast and skinning him; so as to show them that English
lads don't go bouncing and swelling about without they've got something
to bounce and swell about?"
There was something in Tom's project that interested me, and I turned to
him with eagerness. Adventure--something to prove that I had been no
boaster, something to divert the current of my thoughts; it was the very
thing, but I said gloomily the next minute:
"We should be too late, Tom; the beast must have taken to the river."
"All wounded beasts make to the water, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "but we
don't know that we should be too late. What I say is--Let's try."
"Come along then," I cried.
We walked up to the hacienda, encountering Garcia on the portal, ready
to bestow upon us both a sneering grin as we again issued forth, each
carrying a double gun loaded with buck-shot.
I don't think we, either of us, stopped to consider whether it was
prudent to run the risk before us, with a very problematic chance of
success; but hurrying back regardless of the sun, we soon stood once
more by the fallen tree, and began to follow the beaten track left by
the contending enemies till we reached the great brake by the
river-side, when for the first time we turned and looked at each other.
"Oh! it's all right, Mas'r Harry," said Tom; "and if he's in here we'll
soon rouse him out." For it was evident that he had interpreted the
doubt that had found a home in my mind.
"You think it will be here still?" I said.
"Sartain, Mas'r Harry; and--hist! don't speak above a whisper. He's in
there, sure enough; for look yonder at those monkeys, they ain't
chattering and swinging about there for nothing."
In effect a family of monkeys were aloft howling and making a deafening
din, and I could not help thinking with Tom that it meant the presence
of enemies.
"Look out!" I shouted the next minute to Tom; for a huge crocodile that
we had passed unseen, sleeping amongst the dank herbage, had apparently
awakened to the belief that we were trying to cut off its retreat and
charging down straight at Tom in order to reach the river, it was only
by a grand display of activity that might have been learned of the
monkeys above us that he avoided the onslaught, and the next minute the
hideous reptile had disappeared from sight; but we could hear its
rustling onward progress, followed by a heavy splash, one or two ominous
growls, and the increased activity of the monkeys, showing that our
ideas with respect to these latter were not without basis.
"I tell you what, Mas'r Harry," said Tom, as he stood mopping the
perspiration from his face, "them ugly beasts have got a spite against
me, I know they have; and if I'm lost, mind this, I'm swallowed down by
one of them crocks, I know I am, so mind that; and if you do go home
without me tell Sally Smith that I was swallowed by a crockeydile, and
all for love of she. Now, Mas'r Harry, I'm ready if you are? Let's
both keep together, tread softly, and take good steady aim before we
fire; for this ain't like putting a handful of oats in the snow in our
yard and then shooting at cock-sparrers. If we hit what we've come
after, mind 'twill be something to put in the bag!"
I was now as excited as Tom, and together we stepped slowly on through
the dense brake, parting the heavy growth with the barrels of our guns
as we trod lightly over the swampy ground, which sent up a hot,
stifling, steamy exhalation.
Yard after yard we pressed on, watchful ever; but though the track was
plain enough, the elastic water grasses had sprung back so as to
thoroughly impede our view, and we knew that at any moment we might be
ready to plant our feet upon the wounded monster that we sought.
Twice over little alligators went scuttling from beneath our feet, at
the last time drawing forth an ejaculation from Tom, and then we stopped
short with our guns at our shoulders; for Tom's utterance was followed
by a warning shriek from the monkeys, and then, as that ceased, came a
low, fierce, snarling growl from apparently just in front.
"What shall we do?" I thought.
For a moment I felt disposed to try and get round some other way, but
the slightest movement now was sufficient to bring forth a growl from
our invisible enemy; and it was very plain that we had tracked the
jaguar to his lair while the boa had escaped.
To have retreated would have been to bring it down upon us; so after a
glance at Tom's resolute face I made a sign and we took a step in
advance.
Only one; we had time for no more, for with a savage yell the jaguar
bounded right at Tom from the opening; we just obtained a glimpse of it,
and it was like firing at a streak of something brown passing rapidly
through the air, but fire I did, both barrels almost simultaneously; and
the next moment Tom was knocked down and the jaguar had disappeared
amongst the reeds we had but just passed.
"Are you hurt, Tom?" I cried anxiously, as I stooped to secure his
undischarged gun.
"Hurt!" he exclaimed angrily; "of course I am! Just as if you could
have one of them great cats fly at you and knock you over without being
hurt! But I ain't killed, Mas'r Harry," he said, rising and shaking
himself. "`Them as is born to be hanged won't never be drowned,' and
them as is born to be swallowed by crocks won't never be torn to pieces
by wild cats. Look out, Mas'r Harry! Give it him again!"
At that moment, snarling and lashing its tail from side to side as it
showed us its white teeth, the jaguar now crept back, cat-like, on its
belly, as if about to spring, when, with the best aim I could, I gave it
both barrels of Tom's gun, and with a convulsive bound the brute rolled
over, dead.
"That's hotter than the country, Mas'r Harry!" said Tom. "But we killed
him, anyhow; so load up. But, my! Mas'r Harry, what a beauty! And did
you see when he showed his teeth?--he was the very image of the Don!"
I did not reply to Tom's remarks; but as I reloaded I could not help
admiring the glossy, spotted coat of the great beast I had just slain--a
brute whose activity and power must have been immense.
But we had not performed the task we had come to complete. This was
something upon which I had not counted; and now, though quite satisfied
in my own mind that the serpent had escaped, we left our conquered
assailant and once more began cautiously to pursue the track with guns
pointed in advance, but without the expectation of a fresh assault,
when, as if determined to be first this time, Tom suddenly fired at an
upraised, threatening head, and it fell upon the monstrous, helpless,
writhing coils of the immense serpent.
For it was evident that here the reptile had become too exhausted to
continue its retreat, and Tom had administered the _coup de grace_.
It was almost an unnecessary shot, for the jaguar had terribly mangled
the serpent, which was half-torn and bitten through in one place where
it had been first seized; but even now I felt a strong desire to fire
again, as I saw a hideous coil rise slowly and then fall motionless,
while for the first time the monstrous proportions of the creature
became apparent.
"Don't stir, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom triumphantly. "Keep watch over
'em, or some one else will swear as he did it. I'll be back in less
than half an hour."
Then, before I could utter a word of remonstrance, Tom had dashed off,
leaving me to my loathsome wardership. But not for long; he was soon
back with four Indians, giving his orders lustily, and we stood and
looked on while they skinned the trophies.
"Perhaps they'll believe you now, Mas'r Harry," said Tom. "We'll take
the skins up in triumph--that we will! But who'd ever have thought of
my coming out here to shoot adders a hundred foot long?"
"Say five hundred, Tom," I said laughing.
"Well, ain't he, Mas'r Harry?" cried Tom innocently.
For from the effect of his elation it is probable that his eyes
magnified, though, upon the skin being stretched out and measured, it
proved to be exactly twenty feet three inches in length, while the
reptile's girth was greater than the thigh of a stout, well-built man.
But at last, with our trophies borne in front, we made our way back to
the hacienda, the Indians shouting, and the whole of the workpeople
turning out to welcome us. But though my uncle expressed pleasure, and
took the first opportunity of telling me that he had never for an
instant doubted my word, it was plain enough that he was constrained in
his manner; while as to Pablo Garcia, I believe that a blow would not
have given him greater offence than did this proof which I forced upon
him of the truth of my assertions.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
GOLDEN DREAMS.
I saw Lilla but once alone, and then the encounter was not of my
seeking. She came up to me, though, with a sweet, sad expression in her
face and a trusting look in her eyes that made my heart bound, as she
laid her hands in mine and thanked me for what she called my gallantry;
and I was so taken up by her words that I hardly noticed the scowl
Garcia gave as he came in. In fact, just then my heart felt so large
that in my joy I could have shaken hands with him so warmly that I
should have made the bones of that fishy fin of his crack again.
But there was no handshaking: Garcia walking to the window and lighting
a cigar, while Lilla hurried from the room, as was now her custom when
Garcia came.
The first flush of joy passed and I was alone with the half-breed, to
feel how impossible any friendly feeling was between us; and seeing that
he was disposed to do nothing but stare at me in a half-sneering,
half-scowling fashion, I strolled out, paying no heed to the burning sun
as I made for the woods, where the trees screened me; and then on and on
I went, mile after mile, through the hot steamy twilight, amidst giants
of vegetation hoary with moss. Beast or reptile, harmless or noxious,
troubled me little now, for I was in pursuit of the golden idol of my
thoughts, winning it from its concealment, and then, with everything
around gilded by its lustre, living in a future that was all happiness
and joy.
But I was not always dreaming. At times I searched eagerly in places
that I thought likely to be the homes of buried Peruvian treasure;
without avail, though, for I had no guide--nothing but tradition and the
misty phantoms of bygone readings.
To the people at the hacienda my wanderings must have seemed absurd, for
though I took my gun I never brought anything back. This day game was
in abundance, but I did not heed it--only wandered on till I came to a
rugged part of the forest far up the mountain-side, and seated myself on
a lump of moss-grown rock in a gloomy, shady spot, tired and discouraged
by the thought that I was pursuing a phantom.
What should I do, then? I asked myself. Go, as my uncle advised, to
Texas? That meant separation; and yet I knew that I could not stay,
and, in spite of all my golden hopes, the future looked very black to
me. I kept putting it off, but it would come. I must look the
difficulty in the face--the end must arrive; and I laughed bitterly as I
thought of my prospect--even if such treasures as I had heard of did
exist--of finding either of them in the vast wilds spread for hundreds
of miles around.
My meditations were interrupted by the sharp crackle made by a dry twig
trampled upon by a foot; there was a rustling noise close behind me, and
as I turned I became aware of a face peering out at me from a dense bank
of creepers, as a voice whispered:
"Is your gun loaded, Mas'r Harry?"
"You here, Tom!" I exclaimed.
"Course I am!" said Tom indignantly. "What else did I come out here for
if it wasn't to take care of you? And a nice game you're carrying on--
playing bo-peep with a fellow! Here you are one minute, and I says to
myself, `He won't go out this morning.' Next moment I look round, and
you're gone! But this here sort of thing won't do, sir! If you're
going on like this I shall give notice to leave, or else I shall never
get back alive."
"Why not?" I said, laughing at his anxious face.
"'Cause of these here rambling ways of yours, sir."
"And if I take care, pray what danger is there in them, Tom?"
"Care--care!" echoed Tom. "Why, that's what you don't take, sir. I'm
`Care,' and you leave me at home. You don't say, `Come and look after
me, Tom,' but go on trusting to yourself, while all the time you're like
some one in a dream."
"But what is there to be afraid of, Tom?"
"Sarpints, sir!"
"Pooh, Tom! We can shoot them, eh?--even if they are a hundred feet
long! Well, what else?"
Tom grinned before he spoke.
"Jaggers, sir!"
"Seldom out except of a night, Tom."
"Fevers, sir!"
"Only in the low river-side parts, Tom. We're hundreds of feet above
the river here."
"Snakes in the grass, sir!"
"Pooh, Tom! They always glide off when they hear one coming."
"Not my sort, Mas'r Harry," said Tom in an anxious whisper. "They're a
dangerous sort, with a kind of captain, and he's a half-breed. If you
will have it, and won't listen to reason, you must. Mas'r Harry,
there's snakes in the grass--Indian-looking chaps who watch your every
step, sir. You haven't thought it; but I've always been on the
look-out, and as they've watched you, I've watched them. But they got
behind me to-day, Mas'r Harry, and saw me; and I don't know what to
think--whether Muster Garcia has sent 'em, or whether they think you are
looking for anything of theirs. You don't think it, Mas'r Harry, but at
this very minute they're busy at work watching us."
I started slightly at one of his remarks, but passed it off lightly.
"Pooh, Tom!" I said. "Who's dreaming now?"
"Not me, Mas'r Harry. I was never so wide awake in my life. I tell
you, sir, I've seen you poking and stirring up amongst the sticks and
stones in all sorts of places, just as if you was looking for some old
woman's buried crock of crooked sixpences; and as soon as you've been
gone these Indian chaps have come and looked, and stroked all the leaves
and moss straight again. You're after something, Mas'r Harry, and
they're after something; but I can't quite see through any of you yet.
Wants a good, stout, double-wicked six held the other side, and then I
could read you both like a book."
"Nonsense, Tom--nonsense!" I cried; though I felt troubled, and a vague
sense of uneasiness seemed to come over me.
"P'r'aps it is nonsense, Mas'r Harry--perhaps it ain't. But this here
ain't Old England; so don't you get thinking as there's a policeman
round every corner to come and help you, because there ain't, no more
than there's a public-house round the corner to get half a pint when a
fellow's tongue's dried up to his roof. So now let's understand one
another, Mas'r Harry. You've got to keep close up to the house."
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed. "What good would that do? Look here, Tom, my
good fellow: I know you are faithful and true-hearted, but you have been
following me about till you have found a mare's nest and seen an enemy
in every Indian. You must learn to keep your place, Tom, and not to
interfere."
Tom did not answer--he only looked sulky. Then, spitting in his hands,
he rubbed them together, crawled out of the bush, stood up, let his gun
fall into the hollow of his arm, and then thrusting his hands into his
pockets, stood looking at me, as if prepared for the worst.
"Going any farther, Mas'r Harry?" he said as I rose.
"Yes," I said, "I'm going up this gorge."
Then with Tom closely following, I climbed on till we were in a vast
rift, whose sides were one mass of beautiful verdure spangled with
bright blossoms. High overhead, towering up and up, were the mountains,
whose snow-capped summits glistened and flashed in the sun, while the
ridges and ravines were either glittering and gorgeous or shadowy and of
a deep, rich purple, fading into the blackness of night.
I stopped gazing around at the platform above platform of rock rising
above me, and thought of what a magnificent site one of the flat
table-lands would make for a town, little thinking that once a rich city
had flourished there. Even Tom seemed attracted by the beauty of the
scene, for he stood gazing about till, seeing my intent, he came close
behind me again, and together, with the traveller's love of treading the
fresh and untried soil, we pressed on, climbing over loose fragments of
rock, peering into the stream that bubbled musically down the bottom of
the gorge, wending our way through the high growth of long tangled
grass, till the gorge seemed to plunge into darkness, a huge eminence
blocking the way, in whose face appeared a low, broad archway, forming
the entrance to a tunnel, leading who could tell where?
Any attempt to follow another track was vain, as I soon perceived; for,
as I saw, the gorge seemed to be continued beneath the archway, while
right and left the rock was precipitous beyond the possibility of
climbing even to the shelves, where ancient trees had securely rooted
themselves in the sparse soil, to hang over and lend their gloom to the
sombre scene.
But in spite of its mystery there was a something attractive in the vast
cavern, from which it now became evident the little river sprang; for it
ran trickling out beneath the rocks we clambered over, till we stood
gazing in towards the shadowy depth, listening to strange echoes of a
murmuring rising and falling sound that dominated all the faint whispers
that escaped, as it were, from time to time to the light of day.
"What do you think of this, Tom?" I said, after vainly trying to see
the cavern's extent.
"Think, Mas'r Harry? Why, it looks to me like the front door to
Bogyland. But do let's get back, sir; for I was never so hungry before
in my life. I say stop, Mas'r Harry--what are you a-going to do?"
"Do! Why, go in and explore the place, to be sure, Tom," I cried,
beginning to climb the rocky barrier that barred the way into the
cavern.
"No, I say, pray don't, Mas'r Harry!" cried Tom dolefully. "I ain't
afraid in the light, when you can see what you are doing, but I can't
stand the dark, nohow. Don't go, Mas'r Harry. Think of what your poor
mother would say."
"Hold your tongue, will you, you great calf!" I exclaimed angrily.
For an intense desire seemed to come over me to explore this dim,
shadowy region. For what might we not find there treasured? It might
be the ante-chamber to some rich, forgotten mine--one of the natural
storehouses from which the old Peruvians had been used to extract their
vast treasures. There were riches inexhaustible in the bowels of the
earth, I knew, and if this were one of the gates by which they could be
reached, held back from causes induced by cowardice I would not be--I
had too great a prize to win.
But before I had crossed this natural barrier to the entrance, reason
told me that I must have light, and provision, and strength for the
undertaking; and at that time I had neither. There was nothing for it
then but to listen to the voice of reason, as personified by Tom; and
with a sigh I climbed back just as he was going to join me.
I saw plainly enough that it must be nightfall before we could reach
home; and, getting free of the rocks, I was musing, and wondering
whether, after all, I had hit upon a discovery, when Tom whispered to
me, with averted head, to look to the right under the trees.
I did so, and became aware of a shadowy figure slinking off amongst the
bushes, but I took little heed of it then, trudging on as fast as the
nature of the ground would allow; and at last, thoroughly worn out in
body, but with my imagination heated, I reached the hacienda.
That evening, when I was alone with my uncle, I mentioned my discovery,
and asked him if ever the cavern had been explored.
"Never that I am aware of, Harry," he said quietly; "and I don't think
it would profit much the explorer. I have heard of the cave; it is a
sort of sanctified place amongst the Indians, who people it with ghosts
and goblins, such as they know how to invent. Let me see, what do they
call the place in their barbarous tongue? Ah! I remember now--
Tehutlan. I had forgotten its very existence. One of the old Peruvian
gods used to live there in olden times, I believe, as a sort of dragon
to watch over the hidden treasures of the earth. You had better search
there and bring some of them out, or catch the dragon himself; he would
make your fortune as an exhibitor in New York."
"And you think, Uncle, it has never been explored?" I said, without
replying to his last remark.
"My dear boy, for goodness' sake give up dreaming and take to reality,"
he said pettishly. "Explored? Yes. I remember how they say the
Spaniards explored it, and butchered a lot of the poor Peruvians there
like so many sheep, but they found nothing. Don't think about
treasure-seeking, Hal--it's a mistake; fortunes have to be made by toil
and scheming, not by haphazard proceedings; but all the same I must
say," he added musingly, "they do tell of the golden ornaments and
vessels of the sun-worship hidden by the poor conquered people ages ago
to preserve them from their greedy conquerors. Their places are known
even now, they say, having been handed down from father to son."
"But did you ever search?" I said eagerly.
"Who? I? Pooh! Nonsense, Hal! My idea always was that gold was to be
grown, not searched for; but after all, I might just as well have gone
upon a harum-scarum gold-hunt as have sunk my few poor hundreds here."
The conversation was directly changed, for Garcia came in to take his
evening cigar with the family, looking the while dark and scowling; but
it had little effect upon me, for my thoughts were running upon the dim,
mysterious cavern, with its echoes and shadows; and the more I thought,
the more it seemed possible that a natural or an artificial discovery
might there be made. By artificial, I meant the finding of a buried
treasure. With the old profusion of gold in the land there must have
been some rich mines. Why might not this be one of them?
"Anyhow, I have nothing to lose," I said to myself; and at last I
retired to rest, excited with the thoughts of Lilla and the riches I
might find--the consequence being that I lay awake half the night,
forming all sorts of impossible schemes; but above all determining that,
come what might, I would explore the great cavern of Tehutlan--_if_. If
what? If I could find it again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
BEGINNING TO "BURN."
The sun was rising and sending his golden arrows darting through the
thick mist which hung over the plantation, as I went out into the
court-yard, to find all still and peaceful, for work had not yet
commenced.
I had taken the precaution of laying in a good supply of provisions,
which I carried in a wallet in company with flint and steel, matches,
and several candles; for, instead of the morning light making my project
seem absurd, I had grown warmer upon the subject, and come to the
determination that if buried treasures had lain in the earth all these
ages I might as well become the owner of one as for it to lie there
another century, waiting some less scrupulous searcher.
The night had not been passed without quiet thought, and I had come to
the conclusion that if so much gold had been used for the embellishment
of the various temples, and that gold had been hastily torn down and
hidden, it would most probably be in the vicinity of a ruined temple.
But at this present time I was red-hot for exploring the cavern, which
did not fit with my common-sense argument, without it should prove that
there had once existed a temple somewhere on one of the platforms at the
side of the gorge, when, if that should be the case, I felt sure that I
had hit upon the right place.
What, then, was my first proceeding?
Evidently to search the sides of the ravine for traces of some ancient
building.
Tom's words on the previous day had not been without effect. It was
quite possible that I was watched, either by some spy of Garcia's, or,
it might be, by some suspicious Indians who had seen me searching about,
perhaps, for aught I could tell, close by one of the buried treasures,
of whose existence they were aware.
What a thought that was!--it sent a thrill through me, and roused me to
fresh energy and determination.
Under the circumstances, and granting that I had been watched--the
figure I had seen corroborating Tom's words--it was evidently my policy
to get away unseen; and to achieve this I had risen thus early, swung on
my wallet, and, armed with my gun, a hunting-knife, and a long iron rod,
I walked softly round the house, but only to have my nostrils saluted by
the fumes of tobacco, and the next instant I was face to face with Tom
Bulk, leaning against a post and smoking.
"Startin' so soon, Mas'r Harry!" he said quietly. "I thought you'd be
in good time this morning."
Then, paying not the slightest heed to my discontented looks, he knocked
the ashes out of his pipe, shook himself together, and prepared to
follow me.
"But I don't want you with me, Tom," I said.
"Dessay not, Mas'r Harry; but I'm a-coming all the same, and got my gun
cleaned up ready."
I knew it was useless to complain--for Tom had already given me one or
two samples of how obstinate he could turn--so I made the best of it;
and, knowing that he was as trustworthy as man could be, I trudged on
with him close behind, hour after hour, till, after several wanderings
wide of the wished-for spot, we hit upon a little clear, cold, babbling
stream.
"I'll bet tuppence that comes out of that big hole," said Tom eagerly.
The same thought had occurred to me; and now, just as I had given up all
hope of finding the gorge that day, here was the silver clue that should
lead us straight to its entrance.
The stream led us, as we had expected, right to the mouth of the gorge--
that is, to where the rocks, which had heretofore been only a gentle
slope clothed with abundant vegetation, suddenly contracted, became
precipitous, and broken up into patches of rich fertility and sterile
grandeur.
But now these charms were displayed in vain; for the gorge being
reached, I prepared to examine carefully its sides, and accordingly
began to climb.
"Thought you meant the big hole, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom, gazing uneasily
about, and evidently seeing an enemy in every lump of rock or trunk of
tree.
"Up here, Tom, first," I said.
He followed me sturdily, without a word, up, and up, and up, climbing
over the precipitous sides, with tough root or fibrous vine lending us
their aid, till, breathless, we stopped to gaze round or down into the
rich ravine below.
Platform after platform I reached, and then peered about amongst the
dense growth in search of some trace of masonry; but though again and
again the blocks of stone wore the appearance of having been piled
together, I could find nothing definite--nothing but that ever-recurring
dense foliage creeping over and hiding everything, till we had panted up
another hundred feet, where a much larger table-land or platform
extended before us.
My heart beat painfully now; for, judging from appearances, it seemed
that if ever temple had looked down upon the beautiful little vale, this
must have been the spot where it was piled. The cavern was sacred to a
god; there must, then, have been some temple or place of sacrifice near
at hand, it seemed, and I longed to begin investigating; but only to
seat myself upon a mossy block, dreading the search lest it should prove
unfruitful, and so dash my golden visionary thoughts. But at length I
was about to commence, when a throb of joy sent the blood coursing
through my veins, for Tom said, in his dry ill-tempered way:
"Been some building going on here some time or another, Mas'r Harry."
I started to my feet then, to find that the block I had used for my seat
had once been squared for building, and on peering about, there, in
every direction, amongst creeper, moss, and vine, lay fragments of some
mighty temple. Some of the blocks were crumbling away; some square and
fresh as if lately cut; and many of a size that was gigantic, and
excited wonder as to how they could have been moved.
I was right, then. Here had once been a grand temple; and if its
treasures had been hidden by the ancient priests of the place, where so
likely a concealment as the mysterious cave, whose gloomy entrance I
could just distinguish far-off below us? The building must once have
been grand, for every step revealed new traces, with the vegetable world
completing the ruin commenced by man: mosses eating away, roots forcing
themselves amongst interstices, and moving with mighty force stupendous
blocks from their ancient sites.
"Yes, this was the temple. I was right so far," I exclaimed to myself.
"Now, then, for the treasure! This way, Tom!" I exclaimed, turning to
descend, eager now, and excited.
But the descent was steep at times, even perilous, though I heeded it
not; and in less than half an hour we should have reached the stream
meandering through the rugged bottom of the ravine, had not Tom, who was
always on the look-out for danger, suddenly dragged me down into the
shelter of a mossy boulder, and, in reply to my inquiring look,
contented himself with pointing a little below us to the left, when,
following the direction of his arm, it seemed to me that my secret
starting that morning had been in vain. The golden treasure, if it
existed, appeared about to be snatched from my grasp--my knowledge was
about to be met by cunning, perhaps force. We were watched. Of that
there was no doubt, and my heart sank with bitter disappointment; for
there, where Tom pointed, plainly to be seen peering at us from a clump
of verdure, was a pair of sharp bright eyes, their owner being carefully
hidden from view.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
IN SHADOWY LAND.
For quite a quarter of an hour we remained motionless--the watcher and
the watched--Tom and I both well armed, and involuntarily our guns were
pointed at the eyes; but the position was not one which justified
firing. The ravine was as free to the owner of those eyes as to
ourselves, and, after all, we had no proof that this was an enemy.
I was in doubt as to our next proceeding, and had just come to the
conclusion that our most sensible plan would be to turn back without
going near the cavern at all, and so try to throw the enemy off the
scent, for I felt certain that whether I discovered a treasure or no, I
was on the right track, when Tom whispered eagerly to me:
"Let's show him that we know how to use our guns, Mas'r Harry. We won't
shoot him, but only give him a start. Look at that: there's a
poll-parrot--two of 'em--settled in the tree above him! It's a long
shot, but I think I could bring one down; so here goes!"
Tom levelled his piece and the next instant would have fired, when the
parroquets began chattering, screaming, and fighting together,
fluttering down towards the bushes which concealed our watcher. Then
there was a rush, a crashing of the undergrowth, and the owner of the
eyes--a good-sized deer--bounded into sight for an instant, and then
disappeared in a series of spring leaps, which soon took it out of sight
in the dense growth.
"I _am_, blessed!" exclaimed Tom, in accents of the most profound
disgust. "If I'd known, wouldn't I have fired, that's all! Had some
venison to take back, Mas'r Harry."
"I'm very glad you did not, Tom," I said.
For I felt how the report of a gun would have published our whereabouts,
if there really were any lurkers near--a thing that I must say I now
thought very probable, since the fact of there being a treasure in the
cave, held sacred by the Indians, would, as a matter of course, render
them very jealous of intruders.
"Where for now, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom.
"The cavern, Tom," I said.
Finishing our descent we were not long in reaching the rocky barrier,
evidently piled by Nature at the entrance of the vast frowning arch.
We stopped and looked around suspiciously; but the gorge was silent as
the grave--not a leaf stirred; there was neither the hum of insect nor
the note of bird. Heat--glowing heat--reflected from the rocks, already
not to be touched without pain--and silence.
"Going in, Mas'r Harry?" said Tom.
"Of course," I replied.
"Very good, Mas'r Harry; if you will, you will. But if we get lost, and
then find ourselves right away down in no-man's land, don't you go and
s
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