*II*
*THE HOME OF THE TARPON*
Hal's homesickness might never have been in evidence at all, to judgefrom the way the boy, awakening at dawn, began to talk about the SantaRosa trip.
"Well," said Ken, as he rolled out of bed, "I guess we're in for it."
"Ken, will we go?" asked Hal, eagerly.
"I'm on the fence."
"But you're leaning on the jungle side?"
"Yes, kid--I'm slipping."
Hal opened his lips to let out a regular Hiram Bent yell, when Kenclapped a hand over his mouth.
"Hold on--we're in the hotel yet."
It took the brothers long to dress, because they could not keep awayfrom the window. The sun was rising in rosy glory over misty lagoons.Clouds of creamy mist rolled above the broad Panuco. Wild ducks wereflying low. The tiled roofs of the stone houses gleamed brightly, andthe palm-trees glistened with dew. The soft breeze that blew in waswarm, sweet, and fragrant.
After breakfast the boys went out to the front and found the hotel lobbyfull of fishermen and their native boatmen. It was an interestingsight, as well as a surprise, for Ken and Hal did not know that Tampicowas as famous for fishing as it was for hunting. The huge rods andreels amazed them.
"What kind of fish do these fellows fish for?" asked Hal.
Ken was well enough acquainted with sport to know something abouttarpon, but he had never seen one of the great silver fish. And he wasspeechless when Hal led him into a room upon the walls of which weremounted specimens of tarpon from six to seven feet in length and half aswide as a door.
"Say, Ken! We've come to the right place. Those fishermen are allgoing out to fish for such whales as these here."
"Hal, we never saw a big fish before," said Ken. "And before we leaveTampico we'll know what it means to hook tarpon."
"I'm with you," replied Hal, gazing doubtfully and wonderingly at a fishalmost twice as big as himself.
Then Ken, being a practical student of fishing, as of other kinds ofsport, began to stroll round the lobby with an intent to learn. Heclosely scrutinized the tackle. And he found that the bait used was awhite mullet six to ten inches long, a little fish which resembled thechub. Ken did not like the long, cruel gaff which seemed a necessaryadjunct to each outfit of tackle, and he vowed that in his fishing fortarpon he would dispense with it.
Ken was not backward about asking questions, and he learned thatTampico, during the winter months, was a rendezvous for sportsmen fromall over the world. For the most part, they came to catch the leapingtarpon; the shooting along the Panuco, however, was as well worth whileas the fishing. But Ken could not learn anything about the Santa RosaRiver. The _tierra caliente_, or hot belt, along the curve of the Gulfwas intersected by small streams, many of them unknown and unnamed. ThePanuco swung round to the west and had its source somewhere up in themountains. Ken decided that the Santa Rosa was one of its headwaters.Valles lay up on the first swell of higher ground, and was distant fromTampico some six hours by train. So, reckoning with the meanderingcourse of jungle streams, Ken calculated he would have something likeone hundred and seventy-five miles to travel by water from Valles toTampico. There were Indian huts strung along the Panuco River, and fiftymiles inland a village named Panuco. What lay between Panuco andValles, up over the wild steppes of that jungle, Ken Ward could onlyconjecture.
Presently he came upon Hal in conversation with an American boy, who atonce volunteered to show them around. So they set out, and were soonbecoming well acquainted. Their guide said he was from Kansas; had beenworking in the railroad offices for two years; and was now taking avacation. His name was George Alling. Under his guidance the boys spentseveral interesting hours going about the city. During this walk Halshowed his first tendency to revert to his natural bent of mind. Notfor long could Hal Ward exist without making trouble for something. Inthis case it was buzzards, of which the streets of Tampico were full.In fact, George explained, the buzzards were the only street-cleaningdepartment in the town. They were as tame as tame turkeys, and Halcould not resist the desire to chase them. And he could be made to stoponly after a white-helmeted officer had threatened him. Georgeexplained further that although Tampico had no game-laws it protectedthese buzzard-scavengers of the streets.
The market-house at the canal wharf was one place where Ken thought Halwould forget himself in the bustle and din and color. All was so strangeand new. Indeed, for a time Hal appeared to be absorbed in hissurroundings, but when he came to a stall where a man had parrots andracoons and small deer, and three little yellow, black-spottedtiger-cats, as George called them, then once more Ken had to take Hal intow. Outside along the wharf were moored a hundred or more canoes ofmanifold variety. All had been hewn from solid tree-trunks. Some werelong, slender, graceful, pretty to look at, and easy to handle inshallow lagoons, but Ken thought them too heavy and cumbersome for fastwater. Happening just then to remember Micas Falls, Ken had a momentarychill and a check to his enthusiasm for the jungle trip. What if heencountered, in coming down the Santa Rosa, some such series of cascadesas those which made Micas Falls!
It was about noon when George led the boys out to the banks of the broadPanuco. Both Hal and Ken were suffering from the heat. They had removedtheir coats, and were now very glad to rest in the shade.
"This is a nice cool day," said George, and he looked cool.
"We've got on our heavy clothes, and this tropic sun is new to us,"replied Ken. "Say, Hal--"
A crash in the water near the shore interrupted Ken.
"Was that a rhinoceros?" inquired Hal.
"Savalo," said George.
"What's that?"
"Silver king. A tarpon. Look around and you'll see one break water.There are some fishermen trolling down-stream. Watch. Maybe one willhook a fish presently. Then you'll see some jumping."
It was cool in the shade, as the brothers soon discovered, and theyspent a delightful hour watching the river and the wild fowl and thetarpon. Ken and Hal were always lucky. Things happened for theirbenefit and pleasure. Not only did they see many tarpon swirl like barsof silver on the water, but a fisherman hooked one of the great fish notfifty yards from where the boys sat. And they held their breath, andwith starting eyes watched the marvelous leaps and dashes of the tarpontill, as he shot up in a last mighty effort, wagging his head, slappinghis huge gills, and flinging the hook like a bullet, he plunged backfree.
"Nine out of ten get away," remarked George.
"Did you ever catch one?" asked Hal.
"Sure."
"Hal, I've got to have some of this fishing," said Ken. "But if westart at it now--would we ever get that jungle trip?"
"Oh, Ken, you've made up your mind to go!" exclaimed Hal, in glee.
"No, I haven't," protested Ken.
"Yes, you have," declared Hal. "I know you." And the whoop that he hadsuppressed in the hotel he now let out with good measure.
Naturally George was interested, and at his inquiry Ken told him theidea for the Santa Rosa trip.
"Take me along," said George. There was a note of American spirit inhis voice, a laugh on his lips, and a flash in his eyes that made Kenlook at him attentively. He was a slim youth, not much Hal's senior,and Ken thought if ever a boy had been fashioned to be a boon comrade ofHal Ward this George Alling was the boy.
"What do you think of the trip?" inquired Ken, curiously.
"Fine. We'll have some fun. We'll get a boat and a mozo--"
"What's a mozo?"
"A native boatman."
"That's a good idea. I hadn't thought of a boatman to help row. Butthe boat is the particular thing. I wouldn't risk a trip in one ofthose canoes."
"Come on, I'll find a boat," said George.
And before he knew it George and Hal were leading him back from theriver. George led him down narrow lanes, between painted stone housesand iron-barred windows, till they reached the
canal. They entered ayard where buzzards, goats, and razor-back pigs were contesting over thescavenger rights. George went into a boat-house and pointed out a long,light, wide skiff with a flat bottom. Ken did not need George's praise,or the shining light in Hal's eyes, or the boat-keeper's importunitiesto make him eager to try this particular boat. Ken Ward knew a boatwhen he saw one. He jumped in, shoved it out, rowed up the canal,pulled and turned, backed water, and tried every stroke he knew. Thenhe rested on the oars and whistled. Hal's shout of delight made himstop whistling. Those two boys would have him started on the trip if hedid not look sharp.
"It's a dandy boat," said Ken.
"Only a peso a day, Ken," went on Hal. "One dollar Mex--fifty cents inour money. Quick, Ken, hire it before somebody else gets it."
"Sure I'll hire the boat," replied Ken; "but Hal, it's not for thatSanta Rosa trip. We'll have to forget that."
"Forget your grandmother!" cried Hal. And then it was plain that hetried valiantly to control himself, to hide his joy, to pretend to agreewith Ken's ultimatum.
Ken had a feeling that his brother knew him perfectly, and he wasdivided between anger and amusement. They returned to the hotel andlounged in the lobby. The proprietor was talking with some Americans,and as he now appeared to be at leisure he introduced the brothers andmade himself agreeable. Moreover, he knew George Alling well. Theybegan to chat, and Ken was considerably annoyed to hear George calmlystate that he and his new-found friends intended to send a boat up toValles and come down an unknown jungle river.
The proprietor laughed, and, though the laugh was not unpleasant,somehow it nettled Ken Ward.
"Why not go?" he asked, quietly, and he looked at the hotel man.
"My boy, you can't undertake any trip like that."
"Why not?" persisted Ken. "Is there any law here to prevent our goinginto the jungle?"
"There's no law. No one could stop you. But, my lad, what's the senseof taking such a fool trip? The river here is full of tarpon right now.There are millions of ducks and geese on the lagoons. You can shootdeer and wild turkey right on the edge of town. If you want tiger andjavelin, go out to one of the ranches where they have dogs to hunt with,where you'll have a chance for your life. These tigers and boars willkill a man. There's all the sport any one wants right close to Tampico."
"I don't see how all that makes a reason why we shouldn't come down theSanta Rosa," replied Ken. "We want to explore--map the river."
The hotel man seemed nettled in return.
"You're only kids. It 'd be crazy to start out on that wild trip."
It was on Ken's lips to mention a few of the adventures which hebelieved justly gave him a right to have pride and confidence in hisability. But he forbore.
"It's a fool trip," continued the proprietor. "You don't know thisriver. You don't know where you'll come out. It's wild up in thatjungle. I've hunted up at Valles, and no native I ever met would go amile from the village. If you take a mozo he'll get soaked with canya.He'll stick a knife in you or run off and leave you when you most needhelp. Nobody ever explored that river. It 'll likely be full ofswamps, sandbars, bogs. You'd get fever. Then the crocodiles, theboars, the bats, the snakes, the tigers! Why, if you could face theseyou'd still have the ticks--the worst of all. The ticks would drive mencrazy, let alone boys. It's no undertaking for a boy."
The mention of all these dangers would have tipped the balance for Kenin favor of the Santa Rosa trip, even if the hint of his callowness hadnot roused his spirit.
"Thank you. I'm sure you mean kindly," said Ken. "But I'm going toValles and I'll come down that jungle river."