"In five minutes more," continued the tapuyo, "we shall know the best orthe worst. By that time it will be light enough to see in under thetrees yonder. By that time, if they have a single igarite above water,she'll be baled out. By that time they should be after us. If we don'tsee them in five minutes, we need never look for them again."
A minute--another--a third elapsed, and still no appearance of pursuersor pursuit. Slower still seemed the fourth, though it too passed, andno movement on the water. Every heart beat with hope that the timewould transpire without any change. But, alas! it was not to be so.The black line was broken by the bow of a canoe, and in an instant afterthe craft itself was seen gliding out from under the shadow of thetrees. The tapuyo's prediction was fulfilled.
"The big igarite!" he exclaimed. "Just what I had fears of; I doubtedits going down in time. Eight in it! Well, that's nothing, if theothers have sunk."
"But stay a moment," returned Richard; "see yonder! Another coming out,farther down to the right!"
"That's the cockle-shell we took from the harpooner. There are two init, which is all it will hold. Only ten, as yet. Good! if that's theirwhole strength, we needn't fear their coming to close quarters. Good!"
"I can make out no more," said the young Paraense, who had suspendedpaddling to get a better view of the pursuers. "I think there are nomore."
"Just my thoughts," rejoined the tapuyo. "I had that idea all along. Iwas sure the small craft had gone down. You remember we heard asplashing before we got well off,--it was caused by the sinking of theigarites. Our hope is that only the big one has kept afloat. As yet Isee no others."
"Nor I," added Richard. "No, there are but the two."
"Thank Heaven for that!" exclaimed Trevannion. "There will be but tenagainst us. Though we are not equal in numbers, surely we should be amatch for such puny savages as these. O that we only had arms!"
As he said this, the ex-miner looked into the bottom of the canoe to seewhat there was available in the way of weapons. There was the pashubaspear, which Munday had pitched in along with the strips of charqui; andthere was another weapon equally effective in hands skilled in its use.It was a sort of barbed javelin or harpoon, the one with which themanatee-hunter had struck the juaroua. During the day, while doingnothing else, Munday had amused himself by completing the conquest ofthe peixe-boi, which he found, by the line and float, had got entangledamong the tree-tops. Its carcass had been left where it was killed, forit was the weapon only which he coveted. In addition to these, therewere the paddles,--those manufactured from the shoulder-blades of thecow-fish,--looking like weapons that it would be awkward to have come incontact with one's skull in a hostile encounter. Last, and not least tobe depended upon, there was the tapuyo's own knife, in the use of whichhe had already given proofs of his skill. In a hand-to-hand contestwith ten savages, armed as these might be, there was not so much to bedreaded.
But Munday assured them that there would be no danger of a close fight.There were no more canoes in sight. Twenty minutes had now elapsedsince the two had shot out from the trees, and if there had been othersthey would long since have declared themselves. Arrows or javelins werethe only weapons they would have to dread; and with these they wouldmost certainly be assailed.
"They'll be sure to overtake us," said he; "there are six of them at thepaddles, and it's easy to see that they're already gaining ground.That's no reason why we should wait till they come up. When the fighttakes place, the farther we're away from their village the better forus; as who knows but they may fish up some of their swamped canoes, andcome at us with a reserve force. To the paddles, then, and pull for ourlives!"
CHAPTER NINETY TWO.
THE CHASE.
On swept the igarite containing the crew of our adventurers; on came itskindred craft, manned by savage men, with the little canoe closefollowing, like a tender in the wake of a huge man-of-war. They werenot long in doubt as to what would be the upshot of the chase. It hadnot continued half an hour before it became clear, to pursuers as wellas pursued, that the distance between the two large igarites wasgradually growing less. Gradually, but not rapidly; for although therewere six paddles plying along the sides of the pursuers and only four onthe pursued, the rate of speed was not so very unequal.
The eight full-grown savages--no doubt the picked men of their tribe--were more than a fair complement for their craft, that lay with gunwaleslow down in the water. In size she was somewhat less than that whichcarried our adventurers; and this, along with the heavier freight, wasagainst her. For all this, she was gaining ground sufficiently fast tomake the lessening of the distance perceptible.
The pursued kept perfect silence, for they had no spirit to be noisy.They could not help feeling apprehensive. They knew that the moment theenemy got within arrow's reach of them they would be in danger of death.Well might such a thought account for their silence.
Not so with their savage pursuers. These could be in no danger unlessby their own choice. They had the advantage, and could carry on warwith perfect security to themselves. It would not be necessary for themto risk an encounter empty-handed so long as their arrows lasted; andthey could have no fear of entering into the fight. Daring where therewas no danger, and noisy where there was no occasion, they pressed on inthe pursuit, their wild yells sent pealing across the water to striketerror into the hearts of the enemy.
Our adventurers felt no craven fear, not a thought of surrender, not anidea of submitting to be taken captives. By the most solemnasseverations the tapuyo had assured them that it would be of no use,and they need expect no mercy from the Muras. He had said so from thefirst; but now, after having taken one of their number captive andtreated him with contempt, after scuttling their fleet of igarites,their natural instinct of cruelty would be intensified by a thirst forrevenge, and no quarter need be looked for by any one who might fallinto their hands.
Remembering the hideous creature who had escaped, seeing him again inhis canoe as the pursuers came within distinguishing distance, seeingnine of his comrades quite as hideous as himself, and some of them inappearance far more formidable, the statement of the tapuyo did not failto have an effect.
The crew of the chased igarite gave up all thought of surrender, eachdeclaring his determination to fight to the death. Such was their moodwhen the savages arrived within bowshot.
The first act of hostility was a flight of arrows, which fell short ofthe mark. Seeing that the distance was too great for them to do anyhavoc, the six who had been propelling the igarite dropped their bows,and once more took to the paddles.
The other two, however, with the spare man in the little canoe, werefree to carry on their arrowy assault; and all three continued to twangtheir bows, sending shaft after shaft towards the chased igarite. Onlyone of the three appeared to have much skill in his aim or strength inhis arm. The arrows of the other two either fell short or wide of theobject aimed at, while his came plump into the igarite.
He had already sent three,--the first passing through the broad-spreadear of the negro,--no mean mark; the second scratching up the skin uponTom's cheek; while the third, fired aloft into the air, dropped downupon the skin of the peixe-boi that sheltered little Rosa in the bottomof the boat, penetrating the thick, tough hide, and almost impaling thepretty creature underneath it.
This dangerous marksman was identified. He was the hero of theharpoon,--the captive who had given them the slip; and certain it isthat he took more pains with his aim, and put more strength into hispull, than any of his competitors.
His fourth arrow was looked for with fearful apprehension. It camewhistling across the water. It passed through the arm of his greatestenemy,--the man he most desired it to pierce,--the Mundurucu.
The tapuyo started up from his stooping attitude, at the same timedropping his paddle, not upon the water, but into the igarite. Thearrow was only through the flesh. It did nothing to disable him, and hehad surrendered the oar with an exclama
tion of anger more than pain.The shaft was still sticking in his left arm. With the right he pulledit out, drawing the feather through the wound, and then flung it away.
In another instant he had taken up the harpoon, with the long cord stillattached to it, and which he had already secured to the stern of theigarite. In still another he was seen standing near the stern,balancing the weapon for a throw. One more instant and the barbedjavelin was heard passing with a crash through the ribs of the savagearcher! "Pull on! pull on!" cried he; and the three paddlers respondedto the cry, while the pursuing savages, astounded by what they had seen,involuntarily suspended their stroke, and the harpooner, impaled uponthe barbed weapon, was jerked into the water and towed off after theigarite, like one of his own floats in the wake of a cow-fish.
A wild cry was sent forth from the canoe of the savages. Nor was itunanswered from the igarite containing the crew of civilised men. Thenegro could not restrain his exultation; while Tom, who had nothing elseto do, sprang to his feet, tossed his arms into the air, and gave tongueto the true Donnybrook Challenge.
For a time the pursuers did nothing. Their paddles were in hands thatappeared suddenly paralysed. Astonishment held them stiff as statues.
Stirred at length by the instinct of revenge, they were about to pullon. Some had plunged their oar-blades into the water, when once morethe stroke was suspended.
They perceived that they were near enough to the retreating foe.Nearer, and their lives would be in danger. The dead body of theircomrade had been hauled up to the stern of the great igarite. Theharpoon had been recovered, and was once more in the hands of him whohad hurled it with such fatal effect.
Dropping their bladed sticks, they again betook them to their bows. Ashower of arrows came around the igarite, but none fell with fataleffect. The body of their best archer had gone to the bottom of theGapo. Another flight fell short, and the savage bowmen saw thenecessity of returning to their paddles.
Failing to do so, they would soon be distanced in the chase. This timethey rowed nearer, disregarding the dangerous range of that ponderousprojectile to which their comrade had succumbed. Rage and revenge nowrendered them reckless; and once more they seized upon their weapons.
They were now less than twenty yards from the igarite. They werealready adjusting the arrows to their bow-strings. A flight of ninegoing all together could not fail to bring down one or more of theenemy.
For the first time our adventurers were filled with fear. The bravestcould not have been otherwise. They had no defence,--nothing to shieldthem from the threatening shower. All might be pierced by the barbedshafts, already pointing towards the igarite. Each believed that inanother moment there might be an arrow through his heart.
It was a moment of terrible suspense, but our adventurers saw thesavages suddenly drop their bows, some after sending a careless shot,with a vacillating, pusillanimous aim, and others without shooting atall. They saw them all looking down into the bottom of their boat, asif there, and not elsewhere, was to be seen their most dangerous enemy.
The hole cut by the knife had opened. The caulking, careless from thehaste in which it had been done, had come away. The canoe containingthe pursuers was swamped, in less than a score of seconds after the leakhad been discovered. Now there was but one large canoe upon the lagoa,and one small one,--the latter surrounded by eight dark human heads,each spurting and blowing, as if a small school of porpoises was at playupon the spot.
Our adventurers had nothing further to fear from pursuit by the savages,who would have enough to do to save their own lives; for the swim thatwas before them, ere they could recover footing upon the scaffolds ofthe malocca, would tax their powers to the utmost extent.
How the castaways meant to dispose of themselves was known to the crewof the igarite before the latter had been paddled out of sight. One ortwo of them were observed clinging to the little canoe, and at lengthgetting into it. These, weak swimmers, no doubt, were left inpossession of the craft, while the others, knowing that it could notcarry them all, were seen to turn round and swim off towards themalocca, like rats escaping from a scuttled ship.
In twenty minutes' time, both they and the fishing-canoe were out ofsight, and the great igarite that carried Trevannion and his fortuneswas alone upon the lagoa.
CHAPTER NINETY THREE.
CONCLUSION.
A volume might be filled with the various incidents and adventures thatbefell the ex-miner and his people before they arrived at Gran Para,--for at Gran Para, did they at length arrive. But as these bore acertain resemblance to those already detailed, the reader is spared therelation of them. A word only as to how they got out of the Gapo.
Provided with the Indian igarite, which, though a rude kind of craft,was a great improvement upon the dead-wood,--provided also with fourtolerable paddles, and the skin of the cow-fish for a sail,--they feltsecure of being able to navigate the flooded forest in any directionwhere open water might be found.
Their first thought was to get out of the lagoa. So long as theyremained within the boundaries of that piece of open water, so longwould their solicitude be keen and continuous. The savages might againcome in search of them. Prompted by their cannibal instincts, or byrevenge for the loss of one of their tribe, they would be almost certainto do so. The total destruction of their fleet might cause delay. Butthen there might be another malocca belonging to a kindred tribe,--another fleet of igarites not far off; and this might be made available.
With these probabilities in view, our adventurers gave their wholeattention to getting clear of the lagoa. Was it land-locked, or rather"tree-locked,"--hemmed in on all sides by the flooded forest? This wasa question that no one could answer, though it was the one that was offirst and greatest importance.
After the termination of the chase, however, or as soon as they believedthemselves out of sight, not only of their foiled foemen, but theirfriends at the malocca, they changed their course, steering the igaritealmost at right angles to the line of pursuit.
By guidance of the hand of God, they steered in the right direction. Assoon as they came within sight of the trees, they perceived a widewater-way opening out of the lagoa, and running with a clear line to thehorizon beyond. Through this they directed the igarite, and, favouredby a breeze blowing right upon their stern, they rigged up their rudesail. With this to assist their paddling, they made good speed, and hadsoon left the lagoa many miles behind them.
They saw no more of the Muras. But though safe, as they supposedthemselves, from pursuit, and no longer uneasy about the ape-likeIndians, they were still very far from being delivered. They were yetin the Gapo,--that wilderness of water-forests,--yet exposed to itsthousands of dangers.
They found themselves in a labyrinth of what appeared to be lakes, withland around them, and islands scattered over their surface,communicating with each other by canals or straits, all bordered with aheavy forest. But they knew there was no land,--nothing but tree-topslaced together with llianas, and supporting heavy masses of parasiticalplants.
For days they wandered through its wild solitudes, here crossing astretch of open water, there exploring some wide canal or narrow_igarape_, perhaps to find it terminating in a _cul-de-sac_, or_bolson_, as the Spaniards term it, hemmed in on all sides by animpenetrable thicket of tree-tops, when there was no alternative but topaddle back again. Sometimes these false thoroughfares would lure themon for miles, and several hours--on one occasion a whole day--would bespent in fruitless navigation.
It was a true wilderness through which they were wandering, butfortunately for them it had a character different from that of a desert.So far from this, it more resembled a grand garden, or orchard, laidfor a time under inundation.
Many kinds of fruits were met with,--strange kinds that had never beenseen by them before; and upon some of these they subsisted. TheMundurucu alone knew them,--could tell which were to be eaten and whichavoided. Birds, too, came in their way, all eaten by the Indians
, asalso various species of arboreal quadrupeds and quadrumana. The killingand capturing of these, with the gathering of nuts and fruits to supplytheir simple larder, afforded them frequent opportunities of amusement,that did much to beguile the tediousness of their trackless straying.Otherwise it would have been insupportable; otherwise they would havestarved.
None of them afterwards was ever able to tell how long this Gypsy lifecontinued,--how long they were afloat in the forest. Engrossed with thethought of getting out of it, they took no note of time, nor maderegistry of the number of suns that rose and set upon their tortuouswanderings. There were days in which they saw not the sun, hidden fromtheir sight by the umbrageous canopy of gigantic trees, amidst thetrunks of which, and under their deep shadows, they rowed the igarite.
But if not known how long they roamed through this wilderness, much lesscan it be told how long they might have remained within its mazes, butfor a heaven-sent vision that one morning broke upon their eyes as theircanoe shot out into a stretch of open water.
They saw a ship,--a ship sailing through the forest!
True, it was not a grand ship of the ocean,--a seventy-four, a frigate,or a trader of a thousand tons; nevertheless it was a ship, in thegeneral acceptation of the term, with hull, masts, spars, sails, andrigging. It was a two-masted schooner, a trader of the Solimoes.
The old tapuyo knew it at a glance, and hailed it with a cheer. He knewthe character of the craft. In such he had spent some of the best yearsof his life, himself one of the crew. Its presence was proof that theywere once more upon their way, as the schooner was upon hers.