Martin Rattler

  CHAPTER XX

  MARTIN REFLECTS MUCH, AND FORMS A FIRM RESOLVE--THE INDIAN VILLAGE

  When the mind has been overwhelmed by some sudden and terrible calamity,it is long ere it again recovers its wonted elasticity. An aching voidseems to exist in the heart, and a dead weight appears to press upon thebrain, so that ordinary objects make but little impression, and the soulseems to turn inwards and brood drearily upon itself. The spirit of funarid frolick, that had filled Martin Rattler's heart ever since he landedin Brazil, was now so thoroughly and rudely crushed, that he felt as ifit were utterly impossible that he should ever smile again.

  He had no conception of the strength of his affection for the rough,hearty sailor, who had until now been the faithful and good-humouredcompanion of his wanderings. As Barney had himself said on a formeroccasion, his life up till this period had been a pleasant and excitingdream. But he was now awakened rudely to the terrible reality of hisforlorn position; and the more he thought of it the more hopeless andterrible it appeared to be.

  He knew not in what part of Brazil he was; he was being hurriedapparently deeper into these vast solitudes by savages who were certainlynot friendly, and of whose language he knew not a word; and worst of all,he was separated perhaps for ever from the friend on whom, allunconsciously to himself, he had so long leaned for support in all theirdifficulties and dangers. Even though he and Barney should succeed inescaping from the Indians, he felt--and his heart was overwhelmed at thethought--that in such a vast country there was not the shadow of a chancethat they should find each other. Under the deep depression produced bythese thoughts Martin wandered on wearily, as if in a dream--taking nointerest in anything that occurred by the way. At length, after severaldays fatiguing journey over mountains and plains, they arrived at theIndian village.

  Here the warriors were received with the utmost joy by the wives andchildren whom they had left behind, and for a long time Martin was leftalmost entirely to do as he pleased. A few days before, his bonds hadbeen removed, and once or twice he thought of attempting to escape; butwhenever he wandered a little further than usual into the woods, he foundthat he was watched and followed by a tall and powerful savage, whoseduty it evidently was to see that the prisoner did not escape. Thefearful idea now entered Martin's mind that he was reserved for torture,and perhaps a lingering death; for he had read that many savage nationstreated their prisoners in this cruel manner, for the gratification ofthe women who had lost relations in the war. But as no violence wasoffered to him in the meantime, and he had as much farina and fruit toeat as he could use, his mind gradually became relieved, and heendeavoured as much as possible to dismiss the terrible thoughtaltogether.

  The Indian village occupied a lovely situation at the base of a gentlehill or rising ground, the summit of which was clothed with luxurianttrees and shrubs. The huts were of various shapes and sizes, and verysimple in construction. They were built upon the bare ground; some weresupported by four corner posts, twelve or fifteen feet high, and fromthirty to forty feet long, the walls being made of thin laths connectedwith wicker-work and plastered with clay. The doors were made ofpalm-leaves, and the roofs were covered with the same material, or withmaize straw. Other huts were made almost entirely of palm-leaves andtent-shaped in form; and, while a few were enclosed by walls, the most ofthe square ones had one or more sides entirely open. In the large hutsseveral families dwelt together, and each family had a hearth and aportion of the floor allotted to it. The smoke from their fires wasallowed to find its way out by the doors and chinks in the roofs, as nochimneys were constructed for its egress.

  The furniture of each hut was very simple. It consisted of a few earthenpots; baskets made of palm-leaves, which were filled with Spanishpotatoes, maize, mandioca roots, and various kinds of wild fruits; one ortwo drinking vessels; the hollow trunk of a tree, used for pounding maizein; and several dishes which contained the colours used by the Indians inpainting their naked bodies,--a custom which was very prevalent amongstthem. Besides these things, there were bows, arrows, spears, andblow-pipes in abundance; and hammocks hung from various posts, elevatedabout a foot from the ground. These hammocks were made of cotton cords,and served the purpose of tables, chairs, and beds.

  The ground in the immediate neighbourhood of the village was laid out inpatches, in which were cultivated mandioca roots, maize, and other plantsuseful for domestic purposes. In front of the village there was anextensive valley, through which a small river gurgled with a pleasantsound. It was hemmed in on all sides by wooded mountains, and was sobeautifully diversified by scattered clusters of palms, and irregularpatches of undulating grassy plains all covered with a rich profusion oftropical flowers and climbing plants, that it seemed to Martin more likea magnificent garden than the uncultivated forest,--only far more richand lovely and picturesque than any artificial garden could possibly be.When the sun shone in full splendour on this valley--as it almost alwaysdid--it seemed as if the whole landscape were on the point of burstinginto flames of red and blue, and green and gold; and when Martin satunder the shade of a tamarind-tree and gazed long upon the enchantingscene, his memory often reverted to the Eden of which he used to read inthe Bible at home, and he used to wonder if it were possible that the sunand flowers and trees _could_ be more lovely in the time when Adam walkedwith God in Paradise.

  Martin was young then, and he did not consider, although he afterwardscame to know, that it was not the beauty of natural objects, but thepresence and favour of God and the absence of sin, that rendered theGarden of Eden a paradise. But these thoughts always carried him back todear old Aunt Dorothy and the sweet village of Ashford; and the Brazilianparadise was not unfrequently obliterated in tears while he gazed, andturned into a vale of weeping. Ay, he would have given that magnificentvalley,--had it been his own,--ten times over, in exchange for one moreglance at the loved faces and the green fields of home.

  Soon after his arrival at the Indian village Martin was given tounderstand, by signs, that he was to reside with a particular family, andwork every day in the maize and mandioca fields, besides doing a greatdeal of the drudgery of the hut; so that he now knew he was regarded as aslave by the tribe into whose hands he had fallen. It is impossible toexpress the bitterness of his feelings at this discovery, and for manyweeks he went about his work scarcely knowing what he did, and caringlittle, when the hot sun beat on him so fiercely that he could hardlystand, whether he lived or died. At length, however, he made up his mindfirmly to attempt his escape. He was sitting beneath the shade of hisfavourite resort, the tamarind-tree, when he made this resolve. Longingthoughts of home had been strong upon him all that day, and desire forthe companionship of Barney had filled his heart to bursting; so that thesweet evening sunshine and the beautiful vale over which his eyeswandered, instead of affording him pleasure, seemed but to mock hismisery. It was a lesson that all must learn sooner or later, and one wewould do well to think upon before we learn it, that sunshine in the soulis not dependent on the sunshine of this world, and when once the cloudsdescend, the brightest beams of all that earth contains cannot piercethem,--God alone can touch these dark clouds with the finger of love andmercy, and say again, as He said of old, "Let there be light." A firmpurpose, formed with heart and will, is cheering and invigorating to adepressed mind. No sooner did the firm determination to escape or dieenter into Martin's heart, than he sprang from his seat, and, falling onhis knees, prayed to God, in the name of our Redeemer, for help andguidance. He had not the least idea of how he was to effect his escape,or of what he intended to do. All he knew was that he had _made up hismind_ to do so, _if God would help him_. And under the strength of thatresolve he soon recovered much of his former cheerfulness of disposition,and did his work among the savages with a degree of energy that filledthem with surprise and respect. From that day forth he never ceased torevolve in his mind every imaginable and unimaginable plan of escape, andto watch every event or circumstance, no matter how trifling, that seemedlikely to aid him in his
purpose.

  Seeing that he was a very strong and active fellow, and that he hadbecome remarkably expert in the use of the bow and the blow-pipe, theIndians now permitted Martin to accompany them frequently on theirshort hunting expeditions, so that he had many opportunities of seeingmore of the wonderful animals and plants of the Brazilian forests, inthe studying of which he experienced great delight. Moreover, in thecourse of a few months he began to acquire a smattering of the Indianlanguage, and was not compelled to live in constant silence, as hadbeen the case at first. But he carefully avoided the formation of anyfriendships with the youths of the tribe, although many of them seemedto desire it, considering that his doing so might in some way or otherinterfere with the execution of his great purpose. He was civil andkind to them all, however, though reserved; and, as time wore away, heenjoyed much more liberty than was the case at first. Still, however,he was watched by the tall savage, who was a surly, silent fellow, andwould not be drawn into conversation. Indeed he did not walk withMartin, but followed him wherever he went, during his hours of leisure,at a distance of a few hundred yards, moving when his prisoner moved,and stopping when he halted, so that Martin at last began to regard himmore as a shadow than a man.