CHAPTER XIII.
THE LONE CROSS IN THE FOREST.
After two more days of fatiguing travel, the road parted from the bankof the river, and ran along the ridge of a high mountain spur in adirection at right angles to that of the Andes themselves. This spurcontinued for several miles, and then ended abruptly. At the point whereit ended, the path, which for the whole of the day had been scarcelytraceable, also came to an end. They were now of course in aforest-covered country--in the _Ceja de la Montana_--that is, the forestthat covers the foot-hills of the mountains. The forest of the plains,which were yet lower down, is known as the "Montana" proper.
During that day they had found the road in several places choked up withunderwood, and Guapo had to clear it with his _machete_--a sort ofhalf-sword, half-knife, used throughout all Spanish America, partly tocut brushwood and partly as a weapon of defence. Where the ridge ended,however, what had once been a road was now entirely overgrown--vines andllianas of large size crossed the path. Evidently no one had passed foryears. A road existed no longer; the luxuriant vegetation had effacedit.
This is no unusual thing on the borders of the Montana. Many asettlement had existed there in former times, and had been abandoned. Nodoubt the road they had been following once led to some such settlementthat had long since fallen into ruin.
It is a melancholy fact that the Spanish-Americans--including theMexican nation--have been retrograding for the last hundred years.Settlements which they have made, and even large cities built by them,are now deserted and in ruins; and extensive tracts of country, onceoccupied by them, have become uninhabited, and have gone back to a stateof nature. Whole provinces, conquered and peopled by the followers ofCortez and Pizarro, have within the last fifty years been retaken fromthem _by the Indians_: and it would be very easy to prove, that had thedescendants of the Spanish conquerors, been left to themselves, anotherhalf century would have seen them driven from that very continent whichtheir forefathers so easily conquered and so cruelly kept. Thisre-conquest on the part of the Indian races was going on in a wholesaleway in the northern provinces of Mexico. But it is now interrupted bythe approach of another and stronger race from the East--theAnglo-American.
To return to our travellers. Don Pablo was not surprised that the roadhad run out. He had been expecting this for miles back. What was to bedone? Of course they must halt for that night at least. Indeed it wasalready near camping-time. The sun was low in the sky, and the animalswere all much jaded. The llamas could not have gone much farther. Theylooked as if they should never go farther. The heat of the climate--ithad been getting warmer every hour--was too much for them. Theseanimals, whose native home is among the high cool mountain valleys, asalready observed, cannot live in the low tropical plains. Even as theydescended the Sierras they had shown symptoms of suffering from the heatduring all that day. Their strength was now fairly exhausted.
The party halted. A little open space was chosen for the camp. Theanimals were relieved of their burdens and tied to the trees, lest theymight stray off and be lost in the thick woods. A fire was kindled, andpart of the vicuna meat cooked for supper.
It was not yet night when they had finished eating, and all were seatedon the ground. The countenance of the father was clouded with amelancholy expression. Dona Isidora sat by his side and tried to cheerhim, endeavouring to force a smile into her large black eyes. The littleLeona, with her head resting on her mother's lap, overcome with the heatand fatigue, had fallen asleep. Leon, seeing the dejected look of hisfather, was silent and thoughtful. Guapo was busy with his llamas.
"Come, dear husband!" said the lady, trying to assume a cheerful tone,"do not be so sad. We are now safe. Surely they will never pursue ushere."
"They may not," mechanically replied Don Pablo; "but what then? We haveescaped death, for what purpose? Either to live like savages in thesewild woods--perhaps to be killed by savages--perhaps to die of hunger!"
"Do not say so, Don Pablo. I have never heard that the Indians of theseparts were cruel. They will not injure poor harmless people such as weare. And as for starving, are not these luxuriant woods filled withroots and fruits that will sustain life a long while? You, too, know sowell what they are! Dear husband, do not despond; God will not forsakeus. He has enabled us to escape from our enemies, from fearful dangerson our journey. Fear not! He will not leave us to perish now."
The cheering words of his beautiful wife had their effect upon DonPablo. He embraced and kissed her in a transport of love and gratitude.He felt inspired with new hope. The vigour of mind and body, that fordays had deserted him, now suddenly returned; and he sprang to his feetevidently with some newly-formed resolution.
The country both before and behind them was shut out from their view bythe thick foliage and underwood. A tall tree grew by the spot, withbranches down to the level of a man's head. Don Pablo approached thistree, and seizing the branches drew himself up, and then climbed ontowards its top. When he had reached a sufficient height, to overlookthe surrounding woods, he stopped; and, resting himself upon one of thebranches, looked abroad towards the east. All the rest stood watchinghim from below.
He had been gazing but a few seconds when his face brightened up, and asmile of satisfaction was seen to play upon his countenance. Heevidently saw something that pleased him. Isidora, impatient, called outto him from below; but Don Pablo waved his hand to her, as ifadmonishing her to be silent.
"Have patience, love," he cried down. "I shall descend presently andtell you all. I have good news, but be patient."
It required a good share of patience, for Don Pablo after this remaineda full half-hour upon the tree. He was not all the time looking abroad,however. Part of it he sat upon his perch--his head leaning forward, andhis eyes not appearing to be particularly engaged with anything. He wasbusy with his thoughts, and evidently meditating on some great project.Perhaps the going down of the sun admonished him, as much as the desireof satisfying his wife's curiosity, but just as the bright orb wassinking among the far tree-tops he descended.
"Now, Don Pablo," said the fair Isidora, pretending to frown and lookangry, "you have tried our patience, have you not? Come, then, no moremystery, but tell us all. What have you seen?"
"Forgive me, wife; you shall know all."
Both sat down upon the trunk of a dead tree that Guapo had felled, andwas cutting up for firewood: not that it was at all cold, but they hadnow arrived in the country of the terrible _jaguar_, and it would benecessary to keep up a blazing fire throughout the night.
"Your words were true, love," began Don Pablo. "God has not forsaken us.I have seen three things that have inspired me with fresh life and hope.
"First, I looked out upon the Montana, which I expected to seestretching away to the horizon, like a green ocean. I saw this in fact;but, to my surprise, I saw more. I beheld a broad river winding like animmense serpent through the distant forest. It ran in a directionnorth-east, as far as the eye could reach. Even upon the horizon I coulddistinguish spots of its bright water glancing like silver under therays of the setting sun. My heart leaped with joy, for I recognised ariver whose existence has been doubted. It can be no other, thought I,than the _Madre de Dios_. I have often heard that there existed such ariver in these parts, that runs on to the Amazon. A missionary is saidto have visited it, but with the destruction of the missions the recordhas been lost. I have no doubt the river I have seen is the _Madre deDios_ of that missionary."
The thought of being so near the banks of this river suggested otherthoughts. At once a design entered into my mind. "We can build a raft,"thought I, "launch it upon this noble river, and float down to theAmazon, and thence to the mouth of the great stream itself. There is aPortuguese settlement there--the town of Grand Para. There we shall besafe from our foes."
Such were my first thoughts on beholding the new river. I reflectedfurther. "Our fortune is gone," I reflected; "we have nothing in thewide world--what should we do at Para, even if we arrived there insafety? How could
we attempt such a journey without provisions. It wouldbe impossible."
My hopes fell as quickly as they had sprung up.
"I noticed your countenance change as you sat upon the tree."
"True, you might easily have done so: the prospect of reaching Para,penniless, and becoming a beggar in the streets--the nearer prospect ofstarving in the wilderness of the Amazon--were before my mind."
My eyes for awhile were bent mechanically upon the green ocean oftree-tops. All at once an object arrested them. It was a patch of brightrose-coloured foliage, easily distinguishable amid the green leaves thatsurrounded it. It was not down in the Montana--for that is a thousandfeet below us. It was upon the side of the Sierra. My eyes glancedquickly around. I beheld other patches of similar foliage, some of themnearly an acre in breadth. My heart again leaped with joy. I knew wellwhat these red spots of the forest were. They were clumps of _cinchona_trees--those trees that yield the celebrated febrifuge--the Peruvianbark!
New ideas passed rapidly through my mind. "Our fortune is gone," thoughtI. "Here is a fortune in these valuable trees. Here is a mine that onlyrequires to be worked. I shall turn _cascarillero_--I shall be a_bark-hunter_."
"At first I thought that we might gather the bark, and send Guapo tosell it in the towns of the Sierra. Then the idea came into my mind thatit might be possible to collect an immense quantity, store it up, builda great raft, float it down the rivers, and dispose of it in Para. Iknew that in this way it would more than quadruple its price--for thetraders of the Sierra purchase it from the poor cascarilleros, and haveenormous profits upon it from the larger merchants.
"But how to live while making this store? Yes, how to live even on themorrow? Could we support ourselves by hunting, or find sustenance fromfruits and roots, as you have suggested? This was the most importantquestion of all, for our present necessities far outweighed our futureprospects.
"The very thought of our necessity caused me once more to glance overthe forest, and I continued to scan it on all sides. My eye was againarrested, and fixed upon a point where I saw there existed a differentvegetation from any that could be seen elsewhere. There is a smallvalley about five hundred feet below us. It is a sort of table valley,and the stream along which we have been travelling runs through it,afterwards dashing over a fall to join the river below. In this valley Isaw huge broad leaves of a brilliant yellowish green. I knew them atonce to be the leaves of the great _musaceae_, either plantains orbananas. I thought, too, I could distinguish the form of the _yucca_plant. These are the certain signs of some settlement, or where one hasexisted. I fancy the latter is the correct idea, as I could distinguishneither house nor smoke. It may be some deserted Indian 'chacra,' or itmay be the grounds of an old mission. In either case, we shall be likelyto find those useful plants from which we may obtain food."
"Oh, papa! mamma!" cried Leon, running up and interrupting theconversation. "See what is here among the trees! I declare it is a greatcross!"
Don Pablo and Isidora walked towards the spot. There, sure enough, was alarge wooden cross planted in the ground, and leaning to one side. Thewood was much decayed, but the inscription that had been deeply cut inthe transverse beam was still legible. It was simply the Spanishphrase:--
"BRAZOS DE DIOS" (The arm of God).
Isidora took Don Pablo by the hand, and looking steadfastly in his face,pointed to the inscription.
"It _is_ true," said she, "God protects us!"