On the Banks of the Amazon

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  DANGERS BY LAND AND WATER--A NEW FRIEND FOUND.

  Our Indian friends, although their people are generally soundemonstrative, endeavoured by every means in their power to show theirgratitude to us for the service we had rendered them. When we offeredto pay for the canoe, which we were anxious to retain, Maono entreatedus to accept it, intimating that he would settle with the owner. Wewere very glad to obtain the little craft; for, though too small for ourvoyage down the Amazon, it would enable us to carry out our project ofsearching the neighbouring shores for our parents. Though we had notpreserved their village from destruction, we had certainly saved thelives of their women and children, and did not therefore hesitate aboutaccepting the canoe as a gift.

  The chiefs sat up the greater part of the night, holding a council.Next morning it was evident that they had arrived at some importantdetermination. The inhabitants were busy collecting their scatteredgoods, and doing them up in portable packages. When we explained tothem that we were anxious to set off immediately for our own camp, theyintimated that they purposed accompanying us. As this, however, wouldhave delayed us greatly, we got Duppo to explain that we would gladlymeet them again at any spot they might appoint, but that we would godown by the igarape in the canoe.

  A hurried meal having been taken, we prepared to embark. Meantime themen were employed in loading the women and children with their goods.We thought that they were reserving some of the heavier loads forthemselves; but this, we soon found, was not the case, as they wereplaced on the backs of the stronger women. Even our hostess--thechief's wife--had to shoulder a load; and we felt very indignant when wesaw that Oria had to carry one also.

  "I say, Harry, don't you think we ought to save her from that?"exclaimed Arthur. "I am sure I would gladly carry it for her."

  "You would somewhat astonish her if you made the offer," observed John;"and I suspect you would fall in the estimation of our warrior friends.Their creed is different from ours. They consider it derogatory tomanhood to carry a load or to do more work than they can help. However,as Ellen would perhaps like to have Oria with her, we might induce herparents to let her accompany Duppo. We cannot do without him, at allevents."

  We tried to explain our proposal to Duppo, and after some time hecomprehended us. Oria, however, seemed very unwilling to accept theoffer, as she clung to her mother, and turned away her head from us.Duppo at length came back, and we all got into the canoe. Our friendsinsisted on our taking as many articles of food as we could possiblycarry--dried fish and meat, bananas and farinha, as well as fruit andvegetables. True as usual took his seat in the bows. We were justshoving off, when Maono and his wife came down to us leading Oria. Thechief addressed us and his son, but what he said we could not of courseunderstand. However we agreed that it was all right, and Duppo seemedhighly pleased when his sister stepped into the canoe and took her seatin front of him.

  Bidding our friends adieu, we now began carefully to paddle down theigarape. We were some time in sight of the village, the wholeinhabitants of which we saw moving off, the men stalking first, withtheir bows and spears in their hands and their blow-pipes at theirbacks, and the women following, bending under the weight of the loadsthey carried. Even the children, except the smallest, who sat on theirmother's backs or were led by the hand, carried packages.

  "I am very glad we have saved the poor girl a heavy trudge through theforest," observed Arthur; "but I cannot say much for the chivalry ofthese people. I was inclined to think favourably of the warriors when Isaw them going forth so bravely to battle, but the example they havegiven us of the way they treat their women lowers them sadly in myestimation."

  "Very true, Arthur," remarked John. "It is a sure sign that a peoplehave fallen into a degraded and uncivilised condition when women do nothold an honourable position among them. But there are some savages whotreat their females even worse than these do. From what I have seen,they appear in many respects kind and gentle to them. The Australiansavage--who is, however, the lowest in the scale of civilisation--whenhe wants a wife, watches till he finds a damsel to his taste, and thenknocks her down with his club, a sign to her that she is henceforth tobe a submissive and dutiful wife. I am sure our friends here would notbe guilty of such an act."

  "No; I hope not indeed," exclaimed Arthur. "Dreadful to think that Oriashould have to submit to such treatment."

  We had, as may be supposed, to paddle carefully to prevent runningagainst a bough or sunken trunk, as the least touch might have upset ourfrail craft. Though we might easily have scrambled out, yet we shouldhave run the risk of losing our guns and wetting our ammunition; besideswhich, an alligator might have been lurking near, and seized one of usin its jaws before we could escape to land. These considerations madeus very careful in our navigation. After some time, we began to feelsadly cramped from being unable to move. Oria sat quiet and silent,close to her brother, somewhat surprised, I dare say, at finding herselfcarried away by the three white strangers. John told us to keep ourtongues steady in the middle of our mouths, lest we should make thecanoe heel over; and, indeed, if we leant ever so slightly on one sidethe water began to ripple over the gunwale. Duppo steered verycarefully; and I, having the bow paddle, kept a very bright look-outahead for any danger which might appear under water. I could not helpthinking of the big cow-fish we had seen, and dreading lest one of themcoming up the igarape might give the canoe an unintentional shove withhis snout, which would most inevitably have upset her.

  Thus we went on. The lagoon was passed, and again we entered thechannel with the thick trees arching overhead. How cool and pleasantwas the shade after the heat of the sun to which we had been exposed inthe more open parts! As we approached the camp our anxiety to ascertainthat all was well increased. The nearer we got the more I longed to seethe smiling face of our dear little sister, and I thought of thepleasure she would have when we introduced Oria to her. At length wecould see in the far distance the landing-place near the camp. In oureagerness we forgot our caution, and very nearly sent the canoe underwater. "Be more careful, boys," cried John, though he was paddling ashard as either of us. As we drew near I looked out for the raft at thespot we had left her moored, but could not see her. An uncomfortablemisgiving came over me, yet I could not bear to think that any accidenthad happened. I said nothing, and on we went.

  "Why, where is the raft?" exclaimed John.

  "Oh, perhaps Domingos has drawn her up on the bank," observed Arthur.

  "That is more than he would have strength to do," said John. "Besides,I can see the bank, and the raft is not there."

  As we drew near we raised a shout to attract Domingos, True joining uswith one of his cheerful barks. No one answered.

  "Domingos has probably gone out shooting," observed Arthur. "We shallsee your sister and Maria running down directly."

  We looked eagerly towards the camp, but neither Ellen nor Mariaappeared. We at length clambered out of the canoe up the bank, leavingDuppo to help out his sister, and on we ran, breathless with anxiety, toascertain what had happened. The huts stood as we had left them, butthe occupants were not there. We looked about. The goods had beencarried off. Had the Indians been there--or had Ellen and herattendants fled? These were the fearful questions we asked ourselves.If the Indians had come, where had they carried our sister, and what hadthey done with her? We searched around in every direction. No signs ofviolence were to be discovered. Yet, unless the Indians had come, whyshould they have fled. The savage Majeronas would certainly have burneddown the huts. True was running about as surprised as we were to findno one there. Now he ran into Ellen's hut, then searched about in thesurrounding wood, and came back to us, as if he could not make up hismind what had happened. Duppo and Oria now arrived, having waited atthe bank to secure the canoe. We tried to make Duppo understand that wewanted to know his opinion. Though very intelligent for an Indian, wecould seldom judge his thoughts by the expression of his c
ountenance.At last he comprehended us, but made no reply. After waiting aninstant, he went into Ellen's hut, and then, as True had done, examinedthe surrounding thickets. At last he came back and had a talk withOria. They seemed to have arrived at some conclusion. We watched themanxiously. Then we asked Duppo if the Majeronas had been there. Heshook his head, and then, taking my hand, led me back to the water,narrowly examining the ground as he went. On reaching the igarape hepointed down towards the great river. I understood him.

  "John! Arthur!" I shouted out, "they have gone that way on the raft.I am sure of it from Duppo's signs. Perhaps they have not got to anygreat distance, and we may overtake them."

  "Stay," said John; "perhaps they are hiding somewhere near. We willshout out, and they may hear us."

  "There is no use in doing that," I remarked. "Had the raft still beenhere I might have thought so, but it is evident that they have gone awayon it. It would easily carry them and all our goods, and for somereason or other Domingos has persuaded them to escape on it, hoping thatwe should follow."

  "Would not Ellen have left a note for us, or some sign, to show us wherethey have gone to," observed John in a desponding tone. "That she hasnot done so puzzles me more than anything else."

  To satisfy John, we all shouted at the top of our voices again andagain; but no reply came. We were going to get into the canoe, whenDuppo showed us that we might prepare it with a little contrivance forencountering the rougher water of the river. Some sipos were near.These he cut down, and with Oria's assistance bound into two longbundles, which he neatly secured to the gunwale of the canoe, completelyround her. By this means the sides were raised four or five inches, andwould thus, I saw, greatly assist to keep out the water, and at the sametime would enable her to float, even should she be partly filled. Dupponow beckoned to us to get into her. We took our seats as before, andonce more we paddled down the igarape. Duppo's contrivance completelykept out the water, which would otherwise have broken on board; and wehad no longer any fear of driving the canoe as fast as we could throughit. We soon reached the open river.

  "Which way shall we turn--up or down the stream?" I asked.

  "Down, certainly," said John; "the raft could not have gone up it."

  We accordingly made signs to Duppo to turn the canoe's head towards theeast. Before us appeared the island on which we so narrowly escapedbeing wrecked during the hurricane. We steered down near the mainland,examining narrowly the shores on either side. No raft could we see, norany one on the land. The water was smooth in the channel through whichwe were passing, but when we got to the end of it, we found the surfacerippled over with waves, which, although small, threatened to bedangerous to our deeply-laden little craft. I proposed that we should,notwithstanding, endeavour to paddle up along the other side of theisland, in case Ellen and her companions might have landed on it. Wemade signs to Duppo to steer in that direction; but he, instead of doingso, pointed to a spot some way down the river, signifying to as that hewished to land there. We concluded that it was the place where hisfather had appointed to meet him. "Perhaps he sees the raft; it mayhave drifted there," exclaimed Arthur. "At all events, I am sure itwill be better to do as he proposes."

  We accordingly paddled on under Duppo's pilotage. Now that we wereexposed to the breeze blowing across the river, our heavily-laden canoecould with difficulty contend with the waves, which, in spite of theraised gunwale, every now and then broke into her. Had it not been forthe young Indian's thoughtful contrivance, we should inevitably havebeen swamped. After going on for some distance, we reached the mouth ofanother igarape. Just outside it, facing the river, was a small openspace, free of trees, with a fringe of rushes growing between it and thewater. With some little difficulty we forced the canoe through therushes, and we then, by scrambling up the bank, reached the spot I havedescribed. Duppo made signs to us that it was here he wished to remainfor the arrival of his father.

  "We may as well do as he proposes then," said John, "and we will set offand look for the raft. If we do not find it--which Heaven forbid!--wewill return and obtain the assistance of the Indians in making a moreextended search."

  The spot was a very beautiful one, open entirely to the river in front,while the trees behind, not growing so closely together as usual,allowed the air to circulate--a very important consideration in that hotclimate. "It is just the place I should have chosen for an encampmentwhile we are searching for our father," said John. Arthur and I agreedwith him; but as we were eager to be off again, we had no time to talkabout the matter. Landing the greater part of the provisions, weexplained our intentions to our young friends. They understood us, butseemed unwilling to be left behind. John also proposed that Arthurshould remain on shore. "I will do as you wish," he answered; "but I donot like to be separated from you." While we were speaking, standing onthe bank, looking out over the river, he exclaimed, "See, see! what isthat speck out there towards the other side?" We eagerly looked in thedirection he pointed.

  "I am afraid it is only the trunk of a tree, or a mass of grass floatingdown," said John.

  "Oh no, no! I am nearly sure there are people on it!" cried Arthur,whose eyes, as we had found, were keener than ours.

  "At all events, we will go towards it," cried John.

  We hurried down and slipped into the canoe. "Yes; I know that you maygo faster without me," said Arthur. "You know what I should like to do;but if it is better, I will remain on shore."

  We thanked him for his self-denial, and I was about to propose leavingTrue with him, when the dog settled the point by jumping in. John and Ishoved off, and paddled on with all our might. Now that we had fewerpeople on board, we made much better way than before, and floatedbuoyantly over the mimic seas which met us. We had marked the directionof the object we had seen. From the water it was at first scarcelyvisible. As we went on we again caught sight of it. How anxiously wewatched it! One moment I thought it must be the raft, the next I wasafraid it was but the trunk of a tree, or a flat island of grass. How Ilonged for a spy-glass to settle the point, but unfortunately wepossessed none. For some minutes neither John nor I spoke.

  "Harry!" he exclaimed, at length, "I see some one waving. Yes, yes; Iam sure it is the raft!"

  I strained my eyes to the utmost. I too thought I saw people on theobject ahead of us. If people they were, they were sitting down though.

  "Probably Domingos is afraid of standing up," said John. Then Iremarked this to him. "I am glad the wind is across the river insteadof up it, or it would be fearfully dangerous for them."

  "Then you do think it is the raft?" I asked.

  "I am sure of it," answered John.

  We redoubled our efforts. Every instant the object grew clearer andclearer. We could scarcely be deceived.

  "Heaven be praised!" exclaimed John; "I see Ellen and Maria, one on eachside, and Domingos working away with his paddle at one end. They aretrying to come towards us."

  I saw them too, and could even make out Nimble, and Toby, and Poll, andNiger. My heart leaped with joy. In a few minutes more we were up tothe raft.

  "We will not stop to ask questions," exclaimed John, as we gotalongside. "Here, Maria; hand me your painter, and we will secure it toours, and tow you back to the north bank. You must tell us what hashappened as we go along."

  "Oh, but Arthur! why is Arthur not with you? Has anything happened tohim?" exclaimed Ellen.

  "No; he is all right," answered John, pointing to the shore.

  While he was speaking, we transferred our painter to the stern of thecanoe, and secured it as a tow-rope to the raft. We put the canoe'shead the way we wished to go, and paddled on. The wind was in ourfavour; and Domingos, with Ellen and Maria, worked away with theirpaddles also on the raft. We were exerting ourselves too much to speak.Our dear sister was safe; but yet it was somewhat difficult to restrainour curiosity to know what had occurred. The wind was increasing everymoment; and as we neared the shore we saw tha
t there might be somedanger of the water washing over the raft should we attempt to landunder the bank. I proposed, therefore, that we should steer for theigarape. It was no easy matter, however, to get there, as the currentwas carrying us down. Domingos tried to urge the raft in the directionwe wished to go. The wind continued to increase, and the current sweptus further and further to the east. The seas rising, tossed the raft,now on the one side, now on the other; and every moment I dreaded thatthose on it might be thrown off or washed away. We entreated them tohold on tightly. Even the canoe, though before the wind, was tossedconsiderably. We could now distinguish our friends on shore watching usanxiously as we approached. Already we had drifted down below them.They were trying to make their way through the forest to follow us.

  "We must drift down till we can see some place where we can get on shorewith a prospect of safety," observed John.

  I agreed with him that it was our only alternative; yet I knew thatsometimes for miles together along the banks such a place might not befound. We turned the head of the canoe, however, down the stream,anxiously looking out for a fit spot to land. I dreaded, as I cast alook over my shoulder at the sky, that such a hurricane as we had beforeencountered was brewing; and if so, our prospect of being saved wassmall indeed. I saw that Domingos also was casting a glance back at thesky. We could see the tall trees on shore bending before the blast.Every moment our position became more and more perilous. If landing inthe daylight was difficult, it would be still more so to get on shore inthe dark.

  Down the mighty river we floated. The last rays of the sun camehorizontally over the waters, tinging the mimic waves with a brightorange hue. Then gradually they assumed a dull, leaden tint, and thetopmost boughs of the more lofty trees alone caught the departing light.Still no harbour of refuge appeared. I proposed running in, as thelast desperate resource, and scrambling on shore while we could stillsee sufficiently to find our way.

  "We shall lose our goods, and the canoe, and the raft, if we make theattempt," answered John, "and perhaps our lives. We must still try tofind a safe place to land at."

  We were yet at some distance from the shore, though, driven by thefierce wind, we were rapidly approaching it. The storm increased. Darkclouds were gathering overhead. A bright flash of lightning darted fromthem, crackling and hissing as it went along the water: another, andanother followed. Suddenly, as if a thick mantle had been thrown overus, it became dark, and we could scarcely have distinguished an openingin the forest had one been before us. John was more unwilling than everto risk landing; and we therefore steered down the river, parallel withthe shore, so as to prevent the raft as long as possible from beingdriven against it.

  "Paddle on, Harry!" cried John, with his usual coolness; "we may yetfind a harbour of refuge."

  We could judge pretty well, by the varying outline of the leafy wallclose to us, that we were making rapid way. The wind, too, had shiftedmore to the west, and drove us therefore still before it. Arthur andour Indian friends would, I knew, be in despair at not seeing us land;while it was certain that they could not keep pace with the raft, asthey had to make their way through the tangled forest. Now thatdarkness had come on, they would probably be compelled to stopaltogether.

  The wind blew harder. The raft was tossed fearfully about. Anotherrattling peal of thunder and more vivid flashes of lightning burst fromthe clouds. Maria shrieked out with terror; while the two monkeys clungto her, their teeth chattering--as alarmed as she was, Ellen afterwardstold me. Then again all was silent.

  "I am afraid, Harry, we must make the attempt," said John at last. "Butthe risk is a fearful one. We must tell Ellen, Domingos, and Maria tobe prepared.--Be ready, dear Ellen!" cried John. "Hold on tightly; andwhen I call to you, spring towards me. We must manage by some means toget on shore. Domingos will help Maria. Harry will try to secure theguns and ammunition; our existence may depend upon them. The animalsmust take care of themselves.--Domingos, are you ready?" he asked, inSpanish.

  "Si, si, Senor John. But look there, master; what is that light onshore? It must come from some hut surely, where we may obtain shelter.Let us try to reach the place. Even if there are savages there, theywill not refuse to help us."

  As he spoke, we observed a bright light bursting forth from among thetrees, at a short distance off along the bank. Now it disappeared--nowit came again in sight. We paddled down towards it. It was apparentlya torch held in a person's hand. We rapidly approached the light, butyet failed to discover any place where we could land with safety. Weshouted loudly, hoping to attract the attention of any one who might benear. Presently a hail came off the land. We answered it. Again avoice was heard.

  "Can you tell us where we can land with safety?" cried John, in Spanish.

  The answer was unintelligible. Presently he asked again in English; andin a little time we saw the light moving along the bank. Then itremained stationary. We exerted ourselves to the utmost to steer forit; and we now saw a division in the wall of trees, which indicated thatthere was a passage between them. Again the thunder reared, thelightning flashed, and the wind blew with fearful force.

  Maria shrieked loudly, "The water is washing over the raft!"

  "Hold on! hold on!" cried John; "we shall soon be in safety." And inanother minute we were entering the mouth of a narrow channel. "We willturn the canoe round," said John, "and let the raft go first. We maythus prevent it being dashed on the bank."

  We did as he advised. Scarcely, however, had we turned the raft roundwhen we found it had reached the shore.

  "Do you, Domingos, help the senora and Maria to land!" shouted John.

  By the light from the torch we saw a tall figure standing on the bank.He flung the light so that it might fall across us.

  "Females!" he exclaimed. "A sorry night to be buffeting with the wavesof the Amazon! Give me your hands, whoever you are. I should littlehave expected to find my countrymen in such a plight in this remoteregion."

  While he was speaking he helped Ellen and Maria up the bank, the twomonkeys following, while Poll and Niger clung fast to Maria's shoulders.Faithful True did not attempt to leap on shore, though he could easilyhave done so, but remained with me in the canoe. Domingos, meantime,was hastily throwing our goods on shore; while we continued exertingourselves in preventing the raft being lifted by the force of the waterand upset on the bank.

  "All the things are safely landed," cried Domingos at length.

  We then, casting off the tow-rope, paddled round, and ran the bow of thecanoe on shore. Not till then did True leap out of her. Domingos andthe stranger coming down, helped us to drag her out of the water.

  "We may save the raft also," said the latter. "You may require it tocontinue your voyage; as I conclude you do not intend to locateyourselves here, and compel me to seek another home in the wilderness."

  I was struck by the morose tone in which the stranger spoke. He,however, assisted us in dragging up the raft sufficiently high toprevent its being knocked about by the waves, which ran even into thecomparatively smooth part of the channel in which we found ourselves.

  "We heartily thank you for your assistance," said John. "We owe thepreservation of our lives to you; for, with the increasing storm, wecould scarcely have escaped destruction had we been driven further downthe river."

  "You owe me no thanks, young sir. I would have done the same for aparty of benighted savages, as you call them," answered the stranger."Your dumb companions are equally welcome. I am not ill pleased to seethem. It speaks in your favour that they follow you willingly, insteadof being dragged about with ropes and chains, or confined in cages, ascivilised men treat the creatures they pretend to tame. I have,however, but poor shelter to offer you from the deluge which will soonbe down on our heads. Follow me; there is no time to be lost."

  "But we must not allow our goods to remain out," said John.

  "I will assist you, then, to carry them," answered the stranger, liftingup double t
he number of packages which we usually carried at a time.

  We then all loaded ourselves. Ellen insisted on carrying a package, andfollowed the stranger, who went before us with his torch. We could noteven then exchange words, as we had to proceed in single file along anarrow pathway, fringed on either side with thick shrubs--apparently theafter-growth of a cleared spot, soon to spring up again into tall trees.We soon found ourselves within the forest, where, so dense was thegloom, that without the torch to guide us we could not have made ourway. Its ruddy flame glanced on the trunks of the tall trees, showing acanopy of wide-spreading boughs overhead, and the intricate tracery ofthe numberless sipos which hung in festoons, or dropped in longthreadlike lines from them. Passing for a few yards through a jungle,the boughs spreading so closely above our heads that we often had tostoop, we found ourselves in an open space, in which by the light of thetorch we saw a small hut with deep eaves, the gable end turned towardsus. It was raised on posts several feet from the ground. A ladder ledto a platform or verandah, which projected from the wall of the gable,in which was a small door.

  "Here you are welcome to stow your goods and rest for the night," saidthe stranger. "No human being but myself has ever entered it; for Iseek not the society of my fellow-men, either savage or civilised,so-called. To-morrow, if the weather clears, you will, I conclude,proceed on your way; or if you insist on remaining, I must seek anotherhome. Let that be understood, before I make you further welcome. Now,enter, and such accommodation as my hut affords shall be yours."

  There was something in the tone of the speaker which, though his dresswas rough and strange, made us feel that he was a man of education.

  "We cordially thank you, sir," answered John, "and accept yourhospitality on the terms you propose; but as a portion of our goodsstill remain near the river, we would ask you to give us another torchto enable us to fetch them before the rain comes done."

  "I will myself accompany you," he answered, "when I have introduced theyoung people to my abode."

  Saying this, he stepped up the ladder, and assisted Ellen and Maria toreach the platform. He then led the way in, and lighted a lamp whichstood--we could see through the open door--on a table near it.

  "I am sorry I have no better accommodation to offer you," he said,looking at Ellen; "but such as it is, you are welcome to it."

  He came down with another torch in his hand, and proceeded with rapidstrides back to the river. We had some difficulty in following him.Again he took up a heavy load; and we, dividing the remainder of thegoods between us, followed him towards the hut. Ascending the ladder aswe reached it, he desired us to hand up the goods, which he carriedwithin. As soon as we were on the platform, he drew up the ladder.

  "I always secure myself thus in my fortress at night," he remarked; "andas I have taken means of preventing any snakes crawling up the posts onwhich it stands, I can sleep more securely than many do in the so-calledcivilised portion of the globe."

  On entering the house, we found that it was larger than we had supposedfrom its appearance outside. It was divided into two rooms. The outerwas fitted up, in somewhat rustic style, as a sitting-room, while weconcluded that the inner one was a sleeping-room. Round the walls werearranged shelves, on one of which were a considerable number of books,with a variety of other articles. In one corner was a pile of nets andharpoons, and some spears and other weapons for the chase; in anotherstood an Indian mill for grinding flour, and several jars and otherarticles, apparently for preparing or preserving food. Against thewalls stood several chests. Though the table was large enough for thewhole of us to sit round it, yet there was but one stool, showing thatour host, as he had told us, was unaccustomed to receive guests. He,however, pulled the chests forward, and by placing some boards betweenthem, we all found seats.

  "If you have not brought provisions, I will supply you while you staywith me," he observed; "but my own consumption is so small that I havebut a limited amount to offer you."

  "We would not willingly deprive you of that, sir," said John; "and wehave enough to last us till we can supply ourselves with more."

  "That is fortunate," remarked the recluse. "While your servant gets itready, I will prepare my room for the young lady and her attendant. Ihave no cooking-place under shelter, and while the rain is pouring down,as it will begin to do presently, a fire cannot be lighted outside. Youmust therefore be content with a cold repast."

  While the recluse--so I may call him--was absent, we for the first timehad an opportunity of asking Ellen what had occurred to drive her andher attendants away from the camp.

  "I was indeed unwilling to do so," she said, "till urged by Domingos.He had gone to shoot at a short distance from the hut, when he camehurrying back with a look of alarm, and told me that he had caught sightof some savages making their way through the forest. He insisted thatthey were trying to find us out, and that our only hope of safety was byinstant flight. I pleaded that you would come back, and finding usgone, would fancy we had been carried off or killed. He argued that onyour return, finding the raft gone, you would know we had embarked onit. At length he agreed, that if we would assist to carry the goodsdown to the raft he would again search round the camp, and should thenatives appear to be going in a different direction, we might carry themback again. He had not gone long, when he returned with dismay on hiscountenance, asserting that they were coming towards us, and that if wedid not escape we should certainly be killed. You may suppose, my dearbrothers, how fearfully agitated I was. I knew how alarmed you would beon returning not to find us, and yet, if we should remain it might bestill worse. Domingos and Maria settled the matter by seizing me by thearms, and dragging me to the raft before I had time to write a note orleave any signal. I scarcely thought, indeed, of doing so, tillDomingos had pushed the raft off from the bank. I entreated him to goback; but he replied that it was impossible without the risk of beingcaught by the savages, and began paddling the raft down the channel. Ilooked back, and seeing no natives, again urged him to return. Hereplied that he was sure they would lie in ambush to catch us, and thatit would be destruction to do so. Feeling that he wished to secure mysafety, I could not complain. He did his best, too, to comfort me aboutyou. He said that as you were probably with the friendly natives, youwould be defended from the Majeronas; and that by the time you had comeback, those he had seen would have gone away, and you would certainlyguess that we were not far off. I did my utmost to arouse myself and toassist Maria and him in paddling the raft. The wind was light, thewater smooth, and there appeared to be no danger in venturing out intothe river. A light wind was in our favour, and he accordingly steeredtowards the opposite bank, saying that we should be safer there thananywhere else, and might more easily get back than by going down thestream. I looked frequently towards the shore we had left, but stillsaw no natives. Poor Domingos was evidently anxious about you, thoughhe did his best not to alarm me more than he had done already. Wefound, after getting some way across, that the current was floating usdown much faster than we had expected, and I begged Domingos thereforeto return. He insisted that, having got thus far, it was better tocontinue our course towards the southern bank, and wait there for afavourable wind for getting back. I was thankful when at length wereached a sandy beach, where we could land without difficulty and secureour raft. Domingos fortunately shot a paca, so we had plenty of food;and Maria and I assisted him in putting up a hut. Had I not been soanxious about you, I should have had no cause to complain. They bothexerted themselves to the utmost; and I do not think Domingos closed hiseyes all night, for whenever I awoke I saw him, through an opening inour hut, walking about or making up the fire. We spent the morning onthe bank, watching in the hope of seeing you come to look for us. Assoon as the wind changed, I entreated Domingos to put off, and at last,though somewhat unwillingly, he consented to do so; but he blamedhimself very much for yielding to my wishes, when the wind began to blowso violently. Had you, indeed, not arrived to assist us,
I suspect thatour raft would have been in great danger of being overwhelmed."

  "We have reason to be thankful, dear Ellen, that you were preserved,"said John. "I am very sure Domingos acted for the best. I wish foryour sake that our expedition had come to a favourable end, although therest of us may enjoy it."

  "Oh, if it were not for anxiety about papa and mamma, and dear Fanny,and Aunt Martha, I should like it too," said Ellen. "When we once findthem, I am sure that I shall enjoy our voyage down the river as much asany of you."

  "You are a brave girl," said the stranger, who at that moment returned,"though, perhaps, you scarcely know the dangers you may have toencounter. Yet, after all, they are of a nature more easily overcomethan many which your sisters in the civilised regions of the world arecalled to go through. Here you have only the elements and a few wildbeasts to contend with; there, they have falsehood, treachery, evilexample, allurements of all sorts, and other devices of Satan, to dragthem to destruction."

  While we were seated at supper, the rain came down in tremendoustorrents, as the recluse had predicted. The strength of his roof wasproved, as not a drop found its way through.

  "I am protected here," he remarked, "from the heat of the summer monthsby the leafy bower overhead; while, raised on these poles, my habitationis above the floods in the rainy season. What can man want more? Muchin the same way the natives on the Orinoco form their dwellings amongthe palm-trees; but they trust more to Nature, and, instead of piles,form floating rafts, sufficiently secured to the palm-trees to keep themstationary, but rising and falling as the floods increase or diminish."

  I was struck with many of the remarks of our eccentric host, but themore I saw of him the more I was surprised that a man of his informationshould have thus secluded himself from the world. We had just time togive Ellen an account of our adventures, when he expressed his wish thatwe should hang up our hammocks, as it was past his usual hour forretiring to rest. This was an operation quickly performed, as we hadonly to secure them in the usual way to the posts which supported theroof.

  "We should not part," said Ellen, somewhat timidly, "without our usualprayer; and we have cause to thank God for our preservation fromdanger."

  The recluse looked at her fixedly. "You are in earnest, I am sure," hemuttered. "Pray, young people, do not depart from your usual custom; Iwill wait for you."

  Arthur, I should have said, though the youngest, always led us inprayer. "As he is absent," I remarked to Ellen's request, "I will doso."

  "Oh, you have a young chaplain with you," said the recluse; "and whatpay does he receive?"

  "None at all, sir," answered Ellen. "He is only earnest and good."

  "I should like to meet him," said the recluse.

  "I hope you may, sir," said Ellen, "if you come with us."

  A short prayer was offered up. I spoke with the earnestness I felt.Ellen then read a portion of Scripture from the Bible she had always athand in her trunk. Our host listened attentively, his eyes fixed on ouryoung sister. I had not observed a copy of the blessed Book on hisshelves. He made no remark, however, on the subject, but I thought histone was less morose than before.

  We were soon in our hammocks, a small oil lamp, which was kept burningon the table, throwing a subdued light through the chamber. True, Ishould have said, from our first meeting with the stranger, had eyed himaskance, having apparently some doubts as to his character. He now cameand coiled himself up in his usual position under my hammock. He hadkept as far off from him as he could during the evening, and did notseem satisfied till the tall figure of the recluse was stretched out inhis hammock near the entrance of the hut. The rain pattering overhead,and splashing down on the soft ground round us, kept me for some timeawake. It ceased at length, and soon afterwards, just as I was droppingoff to sleep, a chorus of hideous sounds commenced, coming apparentlyfrom no great distance in the forest. Now they resembled the cries andgroans of a number of people in distress. Now it seemed as if a wholetroop of jaguars were growling and snarling over their prey. Now itseemed as if a company of Brobdignag cats were singing a serenade. Nowthe sounds for a moment ceased, but were instantly taken up again byother creatures at a distance. After a time, the same soundsrecommenced in another quarter. Had I not already been well accustomedto similar noises, I might have fancied that we had got into some foresthaunted by evil spirits bewailing their lost condition. I wassufficiently awake, however, to guess that they proceeded only fromtroops of howling monkeys, though we had never yet heard them so near,or in such numbers. In spite of the hideous concert, I at last fellasleep.

  The voice of our host aroused us at daybreak. "As soon as you havebroken your fast, I will accompany you to find your companions," hesaid, "unless you desire to proceed by water. In that case, you willscarcely meet them; but I would advise you to leave your canoe and rafthere, as I can conduct you through the forest by the only open pathswhich exist, and by which alone they can make their way in thisdirection. I am afraid, unless they had their wits about them, theymust have been exposed to the tempest last night, and may be but illable to travel far this morning."

  John at once decided to go by land, as the canoe was not large enough toconvey all our party. The recluse looked at Ellen. "She will scarcelybe able to undergo the fatigue of so long a walk," he remarked. "If shewishes it, she and her attendant can remain here, while we go to meetyour companions; and you can then return and remove your property, orleave it till you can find the means of continuing your voyage. I didnot purpose to allow my solitude to be thus broken in on; but,"--and helooked again at Ellen--"she reminds me of days gone by, and I cannotpermit her to be exposed to more trials than are necessary."

  John thanked him for his proposal, though Ellen seemed unwilling toremain behind. We also did not like to leave her. At last Johnsuggested that Domingos should remain also. The recluse pressed thepoint with more warmth than I should have expected, and at last Ellenagreed to do as was proposed. She was certainly better off in awell-built hut than she had been for some time, and strange andeccentric as the recluse appeared, still we felt that he was disposed toassist us to the best of his power.

  Our early breakfast over, John and I, shouldering our rifles, followedby True, set off with the recluse. Ellen looked rather sad as we weregoing.

  "You will find poor Arthur? I know you will," she said in a low voiceto me. "I thought of him a great deal last night, out in the fiercetempest, with only two young Indians to assist him; and he is not sostrong as you are, and has no gun to defend himself. I could not helpthinking of fierce jaguars roaming in search of prey, or those dreadfulboas, or the anacondas we have heard of."

  "Oh, drive all such thoughts from your mind, Ellen," I answered."Arthur, if not so strong, has plenty of sense and courage; and, dependupon it, the Indians will have found some hollow tree, or will havebuilt a hut for themselves, in which they would have taken shelterduring the night. I should not have minded changing places with Arthur.It is all right. We will bring him back safe enough."

  With these words I hurried after John and the recluse. We had not gonefar, when I saw them looking up into a tree. True darted forward andbegan to bark, when, in return, a chorus of terrific barks, howls, andscreeches proceeded from the higher branches, and there I saw seated agroup of several large monkeys with long tails and most hideous faces.Every instant they threw up their heads, and the fearful sounds I hadheard issued forth from them. I could scarcely suppose that animals ofsuch a size could make so much noise.

  "You have there some of my friends who serenaded you last night,"observed the recluse, when, after a few minutes, the monkeys ceasedhowling. "These are the _mycetes_, or ursine howlers. The creature iscalled in this country _araguato_, and sometimes by naturalists the_alouatte_. It is known also as `the preacher.' If he could discourseof sin and folly, and point out to benighted man the evil of his ways,he might howl to some purpose but his preaching is lost on the denizensof the forest, who know nothi
ng of sin, and are free from the follies ofthe world. Observe that with how little apparent difficulty he givesforth that terrific note. It is produced by a drum-shaped expansion ofthe larynx. The hyoid bone, which in man is but slightly developed, isin these monkeys very large. It gives support to the tongue, beingattached to the muscles of the neck. The bony drum communicates withthe wind-pipe, and enables them to utter those loud sounds."

  Had Arthur been with us, I am sure we should have indulged in a heartylaugh at the curious faces of those thick-jawed creatures as they lookeddown upon us inquisitively to ascertain what we were about. They wereconsiderably larger than any we had seen; indeed, the howler is thelargest monkey in the New World. The fur is of a rich bay colour, andas the sun fell upon the coats of some of them above us, they shone witha golden lustre. The thick beard which hung from the chin and neck wasof a deeper hue than the body. Our friend told us that those he hadcaught were generally about three feet long, and that their tails inaddition were of even greater length. We went on without disturbing theassemblage in their aerial seat, greatly to True's disappointment, whowould evidently have liked to measure his strength with one of them.Like the spider monkeys, they live entirely in trees, making good use oftheir long tails as they move about from branch to branch; indeed, thetail serves the howler for another hand. When by any chance he descendsto the ground, he moves along very awkwardly, and can easily be caught,as we afterwards discovered.

  Our new acquaintance was but little inclined to talk; indeed, had hebeen so, we could seldom have enjoyed much conversation, as we werecompelled in most places to follow him in Indian file. Now and then hehad to use his hatchet to clear the path, and we very frequently had toforce our way by pressing aside the branches which met in front of us.Still he went on without wavering for a moment, or appearing doubtful ofthe direction he should take. After going on some way further, he againstopped, and pointed to a tree, the branch of which rose a few feet off.I knew by the way True barked that some creature was there; and lookingmore narrowly, I observed some animals clinging to the lower branches,but so nearly did they resemble the bark to which they were holding,that had they not been pointed out to me I should have passed them by.The animals turned listless glances at us, and seemed in no way disposedto move.

  "There," observed the recluse, "are creatures in every way adapted tothe mode of life which they are doomed to lead. Place them in anyother, and they will be miserable. You see there the _ai_, orthree-toed sloth (the _Bradypus torquatus_). Though its arms, orfore-legs more properly, are nearly twice as long as the hinder ones, itfinds them exactly suited for climbing the trees on which it lives.Place it on the ground, and it cannot get along. It passes its life,not above, but under the branches. When moving along, it suspendsitself beneath them; when at rest, it hangs from them; and it sleepsclutching them with its strong claws, and its back hanging downwards."

  One of the creatures was hanging as our friend described; the other wason its way up the tree. It stopped on seeing us approach, and turnedits round short head, with deeply sunk eyes and a large nose, to look atus. The animals had long powerful claws on all their feet. The hairwas very coarse and shaggy, more like grass or moss than anything else.

  "The sloth suckles its young like other quadrupeds," observed ourfriend; "and I have often seen the female, with her little one clingingto her, moving at a rate through the forest which shows that the slothdoes not properly deserve its name. See now--give a shout--and then sayif it is too sluggish to more."

  John and I shouted together, and True barked loudly. The sloths gavereproachful glances at us for disturbing them, and then began to moveaway at a speed which an active sailor running up the rigging of a shipcould scarcely equal. In a short time, slinging themselves from branchto branch, they had disappeared in the depths of the forest.

  "Let them go," observed our friend. "You do not want a meal, or youwould find their flesh supply you with one not to be disdained." Thelast remark was made as we again moved on. Once more we relapsed intosilence. When, however, a bird, or moth, or any creature appeared, ourguide stopped for an instant, and turning round, told us its name andhabits. We passed several curious trees, one of which he pointed outrising from the ground in numerous stalks, which then united in a thickstem, and afterwards, half-way up, bulged out in a long oval, again tonarrow, till at the summit six or eight branches, with palm-like formedleaves, spread forth, forming a graceful crown to the curious stem. Hecalled it the _Iriartes ventricosa_, or bulging-stemmed palm. Again wepassed through a grove of urucuri palms (_Attalea excelsa_). Theirsmooth columnar stems were about forty or fifty feet in height, whiletheir broad, finely pinnated leaves interlocked above, and formed archesand woven canopies of varied and peculiarly graceful shapes. High abovethem rose the taller forest trees, whose giant branches formed a secondcanopy to shade them from the glaring rays of the sun. Many of thetrees rose eighty feet without a branch, their stems perfectly straight.Huge creepers were clinging round them, sometimes stretching obliquelyfrom their summits, like the stays of a ship's mast. Others wound roundtheir trunks, like huge serpents ready to spring on their prey. Others,again twisted spirally round each other, forming vast cables of livingwood, holding fast those mighty monarchs of the forest. Some of thetrees were so covered with smaller creepers and parasitic plants thatthe parent stem was entirely concealed. The most curious trees werethose having buttresses projecting from their bases. The lower part ofsome of them extended ten feet or more from the base of the tree,reaching only five or six feet up the trunk. Others again extended tothe height of fully thirty feet, and could be seen running up like ribsto a still greater height. Some of these ribs were like wooden walls,several inches in thickness, extended from the stem, so as to allow roomfor a good-sized hut to be formed between them by merely roofing overthe top. Again, I remarked other trees ribbed and furrowed for theirwhole height. Occasionally these furrows pierced completely through thetrunks, like the narrow windows of an ancient tower. There were manywhose roots were like those of the bulging palm, but rising much higherabove the surface of the ground. The trees appeared to be standing onmany-legged pedestals, frequently so far apart from each other that wecould without difficulty walk beneath them. A multitude of pendantshung from many of the trees, some like large wild pine-apples, swingingin the air. There were climbing arums, with dark-green arrow-headshaped leaves; huge ferns shot out here and there up the stems to thetopmost branches. Many of the trees had leaves as delicately cut asthose of the graceful mimosa, while others had large palmate leaves, andothers, again, oval glossy ones.

  Now and then, as I looked upwards, I was struck with the finely-dividedfoliage strongly defined against the blue sky, here and there lighted upby the bright sunshine; while, in the region below through which wemoved, a deep gloom prevailed, adding grandeur and solemnity to thescene. There were, however, but few flowers; while the ground on whichwe walked was covered with dead leaves and rotten wood, the herbageconsisting chiefly of ferns and a few grasses and low creeping plants.

  We stopped at last to lunch, and while John and I were seated on thebranch of a fallen tree, our friend disappeared. He returned shortly,with his arms full of large bunches of a round juicy berry. "Here," hesaid, "these will quench your thirst, and are perfectly wholesome." Wefound the taste resembling that of grapes. He called it the _puruma_.We were too eager to find Arthur to rest long, and were once more on ourjourney.

  "From the account you gave me, I hope we may soon meet with yourfriends," observed the recluse, "unless they have turned back in despairof finding you."

  "Little fear of that," I observed. "I am sure Arthur will search for usas long as he has strength to move."

  Still we went on and on, and Arthur did not appear; and we asked ourcompanion whether he did not think it possible that our friends mighthave tried to make their way along the bank of the river.

  "No," he answered, "the jungle is there too thick; and if we find sig
nsof their having made the attempt, we shall speedily overtake them; forthough we have made a considerable circuit, they by this time couldscarcely have progressed half a mile even with the active employment ofsharp axes."

  This somewhat comforted me; for notwithstanding what the recluse said, Ifelt nearly certain that Arthur would attempt to examine the wholelength of the bank, in hopes of discovering what had become of us. Wewent on and on till we entered a denser part of the forest, where wewere compelled to use our axes before we could get through. At length Icaught sight through an opening of what looked like a heap of boughs ata distance. The recluse, quickening his pace, went on towards it. Weeagerly followed. It was a hut roughly built. Extinguished embers of afire were before it. We looked in eagerly. It was empty, but therewere leaves on the ground, and dry grass, as if people had slept there.It had been, there was little doubt, inhabited by Arthur and hiscompanions. It was just such a hut as they would have built in a hurryfor defence against the storm. But what had become of them?

  "I believe you are right," said the recluse at last, having examined thebushes round; "they certainly attempted to make their way along thebank. I trust no accident has happened to them, for in many places itis undermined by the waters, and after rain suddenly gives way." Theseremarks somewhat alarmed me. "This is the way they have taken, at allevents," he added; "though they have managed to creep under places wemight find some difficulty in passing." Again he led the way, clearingthe path occasionally with his axe. We were close to the edge of theriver, though so thickly grew the tangled sipos and the underwood thatwe could only occasionally get glimpses of it. As we went along weshouted out frequently, in hopes that Arthur might hear us.

  "Your friend and his companions have laboured hard to get through thisdense jungle," he observed, "but we shall soon overtake them."

  Still on and on we went, now and then having to turn aside, being unableotherwise to force our way onwards. We at length, on returning to theriver, found below us a sand-bank, which extended for some distancealong it.

  "Here are the marks of their feet!" exclaimed John, who had leaped downon it. "See the way they are turned! We shall soon overtake them."

  This discovery restored my spirits, for I had begun to fear that afterall, unable to get along, they had turned back. We hastened forwardalong the bank, but the sand was very soft, and walking on it was almostas fatiguing as through the forest; while the heat from the sun strikingdown on it was intense. Climbing up the bank once more, we proceededthrough the forest. We went on a short distance, when we foundourselves in more open ground--that is to say, we could get on withoutthe use of our axes. We continued shouting out, and every now and thenmaking our way to the bank as before.

  "Hark!" said John, "I hear a cry. See! there are natives coming towardsus. Yes; I believe they are the two young Indians."

  "They are Indians," remarked our guide. "They are beckoning us. Wewill hasten on."

  In another minute we saw Duppo and Oria running towards us. They keptcrying out words that I did not understand. As soon as they saw therecluse they hurried to him, and took his hands, as if they knew himwell.

  "They tell me your young friend is ill," he remarked. "They have lefthim a little further on, close to the water, where, it seems, unable toproceed, he fainted. They entreat me to hasten on lest he should die.They fancy I can do everything, having occasionally cured some of theirpeople of slight diseases."

  As he said this he allowed himself to be dragged forward by Duppo andhis sister, who, in their eagerness, seemed scarcely to have recognisedus. The ground over which we were proceeding was somewhat swampy, andsloped down to a small lagoon or inlet of the river. John and Ifollowed as fast as we could at the heels of our guide. Presently hestopped, and uttering an exclamation, threw aside the hands of the youngIndians and dashed forward. We followed, when, what was our horror tosee, under a grove of mimosa bushes, Arthur in the grasp of a hugeserpent, which had wound its coils round his body. I shrieked withdismay, for I thought he was dead. He moved neither hand nor foot,seemingly unconscious of what had occurred. The recluse dashed forward.John and I followed with our axes, and True went tearing boldly onbefore us. It was an anaconda. Already its huge mouth was open toseize our young companion. Without a moment's hesitation the reclusesprang at the monster, and seizing its jaws with a power I shouldscarcely have supposed he possessed, wrenched them back, and held themfast in spite of the creature's efforts to free itself. "Draw him out!"shouted the recluse; and John, seizing Arthur, drew him forth from amidthe vast coils, while I with my axe struck blow after blow at its bodyand tail. The recluse did not let go his hold, although the creature,unwinding its tail, threatened to encircle him in its coils. Now itseemed as if it would drag him to the ground, but he recovered his feet,still bending back the head till I could hear the bones cracking. Imeantime had been hacking at its tail, and at length a fortunate blowcut it off. John, placing Arthur at a little distance, came back to ourassistance, and in another minute the reptile lay dead at our feet, whenTrue flew at it and tore away furiously at its body.

  "Your young friend has had a narrow escape," said the recluse, as heknelt down and took Arthur's hand; "he breathes, though, and is notaware of what has happened, for the anaconda must have seized him whilehe was unconscious."

  We ran to the river. The dry shells of several large nuts lay near. Inthese we brought some water, and bathed Arthur's brow and face. "Heseems unhurt by the embrace of the anaconda," remarked the recluse, "butprobably suffered from the heat of the sun."

  After this he lifted Arthur in his arms, and bore him up the bank. Johnand I followed with a shell of water. The contrast between the hotsandy bank and the shady wood was very great. As we again applied thewater, Arthur opened his eyes. They fell on the recluse, on whom hekept them steadily fixed with a look of surprise.

  "I thought John and Harry were with me," he murmured out. "I heardtheir voices calling as I lay fainting on the bank."

  "Yes; we are here," John and I said, coming forward. "Duppo and hissister met us, and brought us to you."

  "I am so glad," he said in a low voice. "I began to fear that you werereally lost, we wandered on so far without finding you. I felt ready todie too, I was so sick at heart. And your sister--is she safe?" heasked. "Oh yes; I am sure you would look more sad if she were not."

  "Yes, she is safe and well, Arthur," I said; "and we must take you thereto be nursed, or, if it is too far to carry you, we must build a hutsomewhere near here, where we can join you."

  The stranger looked at Arthur, and murmured something we did not hear.

  "It is a long way to carry the lad," he said; "though if I had him in myhut I would watch over him."

  "Perhaps it may be better to build a hut at the spot we proposed, andbring our sister and goods to it," I said.

  "No; I will take the lad to mine," answered the recluse. "You can builda hut as you proposed, and when he has recovered I will bring him toyou."

  I was very glad to hear this, because I was afraid that Arthur mightsuffer unless we could get him soon placed in a comfortable hammock, andgive him better food than we should be able to prepare without ourcooking apparatus.

  "I am ready to go on whenever you wish it," observed Arthur, who heardthe discussion; "but I am afraid I cannot walk very fast."

  "I will carry you then," said the recluse; "but it will be better toform a litter, on which you can rest more at your ease. We will soonget one ready."

  Duppo and Oria stood by watching us eagerly while we spoke, as if theywere anxious to know what we were saying.

  "You stay with your young friend, while your brother and I prepare thelitter," said the recluse to me, replacing Arthur on the ground.

  I sat down by his side, supporting him. He did not allude to theanaconda, and, I suspected, was totally unconscious of the danger he hadbeen in. While the recluse and John were cutting down some poles toform the litter, Duppo and his sis
ter collected a number of long thinsipos, showing that they understood what we proposed doing. In a shorttime the litter was completed. John and I insisted on carrying it,though we had some difficulty in persuading the recluse to allow us todo so. He spoke for some time to Duppo and his sister, who lookedgreatly disconcerted and sad.

  "I was telling them that they must go and find their people," he said,"and that they must build a house for you on the spot you selected.They will be true friends to you, as they have ever been to me. Iadvise you to cultivate their friendship by treating them with kindnessand respect."

  The young Indians seemed very unwilling to take their departure, andlingered some time after we had wished them good-bye. John and I tookup the litter, on which Arthur had been placed. As we had already cut aroad for ourselves, we were able to proceed faster than we did whenbefore passing through the forest. We hurried on, for the sun had begunto sink towards the west, and we might be benighted before we couldreach the hermit's abode.

  We proceeded by the way we had come. After we had gone some distance,Arthur begged that he might be put down and allowed to walk. "I am sureI have strength enough, and I do not like to see you carry me," he said.Of this, however, we would not hear, and continued on.

  At last we sat down to rest. The spot we had chosen was a pleasant one.Though shaded, it was sufficiently open to allow the breeze tocirculate through it. Round us, in most directions, was a thick jungle.We had brought some water in a shell of one of the large nuts, andafter Arthur had drunk some, we induced him to take a little food, whichseemed greatly to revive him. We were seated round the contents of ourwallets, John and I, at all events, feeling in much better spirits thanwe had been in the morning; even the recluse threw off some of hisreserve. We took the opportunity of telling him of our anxiety aboutour parents, and of the uncertainty we felt whether they had passed downthe river. He in return asked us further questions, and seemedinterested in our account.

  "I may be of use to you," he said at length, "by being able to makeinquiries among the Indians on the river, who would probably haveobserved them should they have passed; but promises are so often broken,that I am ever unwilling to make them. Therefore, I advise you to trustto your own exertions," he added.

  We were on the point of again taking up Arthur to proceed, when a loudsound of crashing branches was heard in the distance. It seemed as if ahurricane was sweeping through the forest. It came nearer and nearer.

  "Oh I what can it be?" cried Arthur. "Leave me and save yourselves. Itseems as if the whole forest was falling."

  The crashing increased. Boughs seemed broken off, shrubs trampled underfoot. Presently we saw, bearing down upon as, a large dark-skinnedcreature, though its form could scarcely be distinguished amid thefoliage.

  "Stand fast!" said the recluse. "It will not harm you. See! it has anenemy to contend with."

  As the creature drew nearer, I saw that it bore on its back a hugejaguar, distinguished by its spotted hide and its fierce glaring eyes.Its jaws were fixed in the creature's neck, to which it clung also withits sharp claws.

  "The animal is a tapir," said the recluse. "I am not certain yet thoughwhether the jaguar will conquer it. See, the back of the latter isbleeding and torn from the rough branches beneath which the tapir hascarried it."

  As he spoke, the animals came close to us, the tapir making for thethick branch of a fallen tree kept up by a network of sipos, which hunglike a beam almost horizontally a few feet from the ground. The tapirdashed under it, and we could hear the crash of the jaguar's head as itcame in contact with the hard wood. Still it clung on, but its eyes hadlost their fierce glare. Blood covered the backs of the animals, andthe next moment the jaguar fell to the ground, where it lay strugglingfaintly. Twice it tried to rise, but fell back, and lay apparentlydead.

  John had lifted his rifle to fire at the tapir. "Hold!" said therecluse; "let the victor go; he deserves his liberty for having thussagaciously liberated himself from his tormentor. Would that we couldas easily get rid of ours! How eagerly we should seek the lowerbranches of the trees!" He gave one of those peculiar, sarcasticlaughs, which I observed he was apt to indulge in.

  We cautiously approached the jaguar, feeling uncertain whether it mightnot yet rise up and spring at us. John and I kept our rifles at itshead, while True went boldly up towards it. He had been an excitedspectator of the scene, and I had some difficulty in keeping him fromfollowing the tapir. The jaguar did not move. Even a poke with themuzzle of my rifle failed to arouse it. True began to tear away at itsneck; and at length we were convinced that the savage creature wasreally dead. "There let him lie," said the recluse. "Strong as he wasa few moments ago, he will be food for the armadillos before morning."

  We again lifted up Arthur, and proceeded onwards, the recluse leadingand clearing away the branches which might have injured Arthur as wepassed between them. Of course we now required a broader passage thanwhen we came through ourselves. We took exactly the same route; ourguide never faltering for a moment, though in many places I should havehad difficulty, where the marks of our axes were not to be seen, infinding the road. Several times he offered to take my place, observingthat I might be tired; but John and I begged him to allow us to carryour young friend, as we did not like to impose the task on him. Thus wewent on till my arms and shoulders began to ache, but I determined notto give in. Arthur had not spoken for some time. I looked at his face.It was very pale, and his eyes were closed. I was afraid he hadreceived more injury from the fearful serpent than we had at firstsupposed. We hurried on, for it was evidently very important that heshould as soon as possible be attended to. We did not stop, therefore,a moment to rest. Thinking that he would not hear me, I expressed myfears to John. "Oh no, no," said Arthur; "I do not feel so very ill. Iwish you would put me down, for I am sure you must be tired."

  I was greatly relieved when I heard him speak; at the same time hisvoice was so weak, that we were unwilling to do as he begged us. It wasgetting late, too, as we could judge by the increasing gloom in theforest. Looking up through the occasional openings in the dark-greencanopy above our heads, we could see the sky, which had now become ofthe intensest shade of blue. A troop of allouattes commenced a concert,their unmusical howlings echoing through the forest. Numerous macawspassed above us, giving vent to strange harsh cries; while wholefamilies of parrots screamed in various notes. Cicadas set up the mostpiercing chirp, becoming shriller and shriller, till it ended in a sharpscreeching whistle. Other creatures--birds, beasts, and insects--addedtheir voices to the concert, till the whole forest seemed in an uproar.As the sky grew darker, and the shades of night came thickly round us,the noises gradually ceased, but were soon succeeded by the drumming,hoohooing, and the croaking of the tree-frogs, joined occasionally bythe melancholy cries of the night-jar. "Follow me closely," said therecluse, "and step as high as you can, not to catch your feet in thetangled roots. My eyes are well accustomed to this forest-gloom, and Iwill lead you safely."

  At length we found ourselves passing through a narrow passage betweenthick bushes, which reminded us of the approach to the recluse's hut.Emerging from it, we saw light ahead, and now reached the steps whichled to the verandah.

  "You have come on well," he observed. "I will carry up your youngfriend. Leave the litter on the ground."

  I had to stop and assist up True, for although he made several attemptsto mount the ladder by himself, it was somewhat too high for him tosucceed. On entering the hut I found Ellen, in a state of agitation,leaning over Arthur.

  "Oh! what has happened?" she asked. "Will he die? Will he die?"

  "I trust not, young lady," remarked our host. "He wants rest andcareful nursing, and I hope in a few days will have recovered. I willnow attend to him, and afterwards leave him under your care."

  "Do not be alarmed, Miss Ellen," whispered Arthur. "I only fainted fromthe hot sun and anxiety about you all. Now I am with you, I shall soonget well."
r />   "As I have by me a store of medicines, with which I have doctoredoccasionally the poor natives, I can find, I hope, some remedies whichmay help to restore your friend," observed the recluse. "Rest is whathe chiefly now requires."

  Arthur was put into his hammock, and after he had taken a mess whichMaria had prepared, fell asleep.