Complete works of r m ba.., p.77
Complete Works of R M Ballantyne, page 77
“We’ll jist have to take to farhina and wather,” remarked Barney, laying down his paddle and proceeding leisurely to light his pipe. “It’s a blissin’ we’ve got baccy, any how. ’Tis mesilf that could niver git on without it.”
“I wish you joy of it, Barney. It may fill your mouth, but it can’t stop your hunger.”
“Och, boy, it’s little ye know! Sure it stops the cravin’s o’ hunger, and kapes yer stumick from callin’ out for iver, till ye fall in with somethin’ to ate.”
“It does not seem to stop the mouth then, Barney, for you call out for grub oftener than I do; and then you say that you couldn’t get on without it; so you’re a slave to it old boy. I wouldn’t be a slave to anything if I could help it.”
“Martin, lad, ye’re gittin’ deep. Take care now, or ye’ll be in mettlefeesics soon. I say, ould black-face,” — Barney was not on ceremony with the old trader,— “is there no land in thim parts at all?”
“No, not dis night.”
“Och, then, we’ll have to git up a tree and try to cook somethin’ there; for I’m not goin’ to work on flour and wather. Hallo! hould on! There’s an island, or the portrait o’ wan! Port your helm, Naygur! hard sport! D’ye hear?”
The old man heard, but, as usual, paid no attention to the Irishman’s remarks; and the canoe would have passed straight on, had not Barney used his bow-paddle so energetically that he managed to steer her, as he expressed it, by the nose, and ran her against a mass of floating logs which had caught firmly in a thicket and were so covered with grass and broken twigs as to have very much the appearance of a real island. Here they landed, so to speak, kindled a small fire, made some coffee, roasted a few fish, baked several cakes, and were soon as happy and comfortable as hungry and wearied men usually are when they obtain rest and food.
“This is what I call jolly,” remarked Barney.
“What’s jolly?” inquired Martin.
“Why this, to be sure, — grub to begin with, and a smoke and a convanient snooze in prospect.”
The hopes which Barney cherished, however, were destined to be blighted, at least in part. To the victuals he did ample justice; the pipe was delightful, and in good working order; but when they lay down to repose, they were attacked by swarms of stinging ants, which the heat of the fire had driven out of the old logs. These and mosquitoes effectually banished sleep from their eye-lids, and caused them to reflect very seriously, and to state to each other more than once very impressively, that with all their beauties and wonders, tropical lands had their disadvantages, and there was no place like the “ould country,” after all.
Chapter Eighteen.
The Sad and Momentous Era referred to at the Close of the Chapter Preceding the Last.
One sultry evening, many weeks after our travellers had passed the uncomfortable night on the floating island in the Gapo, they came to a place where the banks of the river rose boldly up in rugged rocks and hemmed in the waters of the Amazon, which were by this time somewhat abated. Here they put ashore, intending to kindle their fire and encamp for the night, having been up and hard at work since day-break.
The evening was calm and beautiful, and the troublesome insects not so numerous as usual, — probably owing to the nature of the ground. One or two monkeys showed themselves for a moment, as if to inquire who was there, and then ran away screaming; a porcupine also crossed their path, and several small bright snakes, of a harmless species, glided over the rocks, and sought refuge among the small bushes; but beyond these there were few of the sights and sounds that were wont to greet them in the forest.
“I think things look well to-night,” remarked Martin as he threw down a bundle of sticks which he had gathered for the fire; “we shall have a comfortable snooze for certain, if the mosquitoes don’t wake up.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” replied Barney, striking a light with flint and steel and stooping to puff the smouldering spark into a flame. “I’ve larned by exparience that ye niver can be — puff — sure o’ nothin’ in this — puff — remarkable country. Jist look at Darkey now,” continued the Irishman, sitting down on a stone before the fire, which now began to kindle up, and stuffing the tobacco into his pipe with his little finger. “There he is, a livin’ Naygur, a-liftin’ of the provision-bag out o’ the canoe. Well, if he was all of a suddent to turn into Marmoset, an’ swaller himself, an’ then jump down the throat of Grampus, and the whole consarn, canoe and all, to disappear, I don’t think that I would be much surprised.”
“Would you not, Barney? I suspect that I should be, a little, under the circumstances; perhaps the old Nigger would be more so.”
“Niver a taste,” continued Barney. “Ye see, if that was to happen, I would then know that it was all a drame. I’ve more than wance expected to wake up since I comed into furrin parts; the only thing that kapes me in doubt about it is the baccy.”
“How so, Barney?”
“Why, bekase it tastes so rael, good luck to it! that I can’t git myself to think it’s only a drame. Jist look, now,” he continued, in the same tone of voice; “if it wasn’t a drame, how could I see sich a thing as that standin’ on the rock over there?”
Martin glanced towards the spot pointed out by his friend, and immediately started up with surprise.— “Hallo! Barney, that’s no dream, I’ll vouch for it. He’s an Indian, and a very ugly one too, I declare. I say, old fellow, do you know what sort of savage that is?”
“Not know,” answered the trader, glancing uneasily at the stranger.
“He might have the dacency to put on more close, anyhow,” muttered Barney, as he gazed inquiringly at the savage.
The being who had thus appeared so suddenly before the travellers belonged to one of the numerous tribes of Indians inhabiting the country near the head-waters of some of the chief tributaries of the Amazon. He was almost entirely naked, having merely a scanty covering on his loins; and carried a small quiver full of arrows at his back, and what appeared to be a long spear in his hand. His figure was strongly but not well formed; and his face, which was of a dark copper hue, was disfigured in a most remarkable manner. A mass of coarse black hair formed the only covering to his head. His cheeks were painted with curious marks of jet black. But the most remarkable points about him were the huge pieces of wood which formed ornaments in his ears and under lip. They were round and flat like the wooden wheel of a toy-cart, about half an inch thick, and larger than an old-fashioned watch. These were fitted into enormous slits made in the ears and under lip, and the latter projected more than two inches from his mouth! Indeed, the cut that had been made to receive this ornament was so large that the lip had been almost cut off altogether, and merely hung by each corner of his mouth! The aspect of the man was very hideous, and it was by no means improved when, having recovered from his surprise at unexpectedly encountering strangers, he opened his mouth to the full extent and uttered a savage yell.
The cry was answered immediately. In a few minutes a troop of upwards of thirty savages sprang from the woods, and, ascending the rock on which their comrade stood, gazed down on the travellers in surprise, and, by their movements, seemed to be making hasty preparations for an attack.
By this time Barney had recovered his self-possession, and became thoroughly convinced of the reality of the apparition before him. Drawing his pistol hastily from his belt, he caught up a handful of gravel, wherewith he loaded it to the muzzle, ramming down the charge with a bit of mandioca-cake in lieu of a wad; then drawing his cutlass he handed it to Martin, exclaiming, “Come, lad, we’re in for it now. Take you the cutlass and I’ll try their skulls with the butt o’ my pistol: it has done good work before now in that way. If there’s no more o’ the blackguards in the background we’ll bate them aisy.”
Martin instinctively grasped the cutlass, and there is no doubt that, under the impulse of that remarkable quality, British valour, which utterly despises odds, they would have hurled themselves recklessly upon the savages, when the horrified old trader threw himself on Barney’s neck and implored him not to fight; for if he did they would all be killed, and if he only kept quiet the savages would perhaps do them no harm. At the same moment about fifty additional Indians arrived upon the scene of action. This, and the old man’s earnest entreaties, induced them to hesitate for an instant, and, before they could determine what to do, they were surprised by some of the savages, who rushed upon them from behind and took them prisoners. Barney struggled long and fiercely, but he was at length overpowered by numbers. The pistol, which missed fire, was wrenched from his grasp, and his hands were speedily bound behind his back. Martin was likewise disarmed and secured; not, however, before he made a desperate slash at one of the savages, which narrowly missed his skull, and cut away his lip ornament.
As for the old trader, he made no resistance at all, but submitted quietly to his fate. The savages did not seem to think it worth their while to bind him. Grampus bounced and barked round the party savagely, but did not attack; and Marmoset slept in the canoe in blissful ignorance of the whole transaction.
The hands of the two prisoners being firmly bound, they were allowed to do as they pleased; so they sat down on a rock in gloomy silence, and watched the naked savages as they rifled the canoe and danced joyfully round the treasures which their active knives and fingers soon exposed to view. The old trader took things philosophically. Knowing that it was absolutely impossible to escape, he sat quietly down on a stone, rested his chin on his hands, heaved one or two deep sighs, and thereafter seemed to be nothing more than an ebony statue.
The ransacking of the canoe and appropriating of its contents occupied the savages but a short time, after which they packed everything up in small bundles, which they strapped upon their backs. Then, making signs to their prisoners to rise, they all marched away into the forest. Just as they were departing, Marmoset observing that she was about to be left behind, uttered a frantic cry, which brought Grampus gambolling to her side. With an active bound the monkey mounted its charger, and away they went into the forest in the track of the band of savages.
During the first part of their march Martin and Barney were permitted to walk beside each other, and they conversed in low, anxious tones.
“Surely,” said Barney, as they marched along surrounded by Indians, “thim long poles the savages have got are not spears; I don’t see no point to them.”
“And what’s more remarkable,” added Martin, “is that they all carry quivers full of arrows, but none of them have bows.”
“There’s a raison for iverything,” said Barney, pointing to one of the Indians in advance; “that fellow explains the mystery.”
As he spoke, the savage referred to lowered the pole, which seemed to be about thirteen feet long, and pushing an arrow into a hole in the end of it, applied it to his mouth. In another moment the arrow flew through the air and grazed a bird that was sitting on a branch hard by.
“’Tis a blow-pipe, and no mistake!” cried Barney.
“And a poisoned arrow, I’m quite sure,” added Martin; “for it only ruffled the bird’s feathers, and see, it has fallen to the ground.”
“Och, then, but we’d have stood a bad chance in a fight if thim’s the wipons they use. Och, the dirty spalpeens! Martin, dear, we’re done for. There’s no chance for us at all.”
This impression seemed to take such deep hold of Barney’s mind, that his usually reckless and half jesting disposition was completely subdued, and he walked along in gloomy silence, while a feeling of deep dejection filled the heart of his young companion.
The blow-pipe which these Indians use is an ingeniously contrived weapon. It is made from a species of palm-tree. When an Indian wants one, he goes into the woods and selects a tree with a long slender stem of less than an inch in diameter; he extracts the pith out of this, and then cuts another stem, so much larger than the first that he can push the small tube into the bore of the large one, — thus the slight bend in one is counteracted by the other, and a perfectly straight pipe is formed. The mouth-piece is afterwards neatly finished off. The arrows used are very short, having a little ball of cotton at the end to fill the tube of the blow-pipe. The points are dipped in a peculiar poison, which has the effect of producing death when introduced into the blood by a mere scratch of the skin. The Indians can send these arrows an immense distance, and with unerring aim, as Martin and Barney had many an opportunity of witnessing during their long and weary journey on foot to the forest-home of the savages.
Chapter Nineteen.
Worse and Worse — Everything seems to go Wrong together.
Although the Indians did not maltreat the unfortunate strangers who had thus fallen into their hands, they made them proceed by forced marches through the wilderness; and as neither Barney nor Martin had been of late much used to long walks, they felt the journey very severely. The old trader had been accustomed to everything wretched and unfortunate and uncomfortable from his childhood, so he plodded onward in silent indifference.
The country through which they passed became every day more and more rugged, until at length it assumed the character of a wild mountainous district. Sometimes they wound their way in a zig-zag manner up the mountain sides, by paths so narrow that they could scarcely find a foot-hold. At other times they descended into narrow valleys where they saw great numbers of wild animals of various kinds, some of which the Indians killed for food. After they reached the mountain district they loosed the hands of their prisoners, in order to enable them to climb more easily. Indeed in many places they had to scramble so carefully that it would have been impossible for any one to climb with his hands tied behind his back. But the Indians knew full well that they ran no risk of losing their prisoners; for if they had attempted to escape, dozens of their number were on the watch, before, behind, and on either side, ready to dart away in pursuit. Moreover, Barney had a feeling of horror at the bare idea of the poisoned arrows, that effectually prevented him from making the smallest attempt at escape. With a cutlass or a heavy stick he would have attacked the whole tribe single-handed, and have fought till his brains were knocked out; but when he thought of the small arrows that would pour upon him in hundreds if he made a dash for the woods, and the certain death that would follow the slightest scratch, he discarded all idea of rebellion.
One of the animals killed by the Indians at this time was a black jaguar, — a magnificent animal, and very fierce. He was discovered crouching in a thicket backed by a precipice, from which he could only escape by charging through the ranks of his enemies. He did it nobly. With a roar that rebounded from the face of the high cliff and echoed through the valley like a peal of thunder, he sprang out and rushed at the savages in front, who scattered like chaff right and left. But at the same instant fifty blow-pipes sent their poisoned shafts into his body, and, after a few convulsive bounds, the splendid monarch of the American forests fell dead on the ground. The black jaguar is a somewhat rare animal, and is very seldom seen. This one was therefore hailed as a great prize, and the skin and claws were carefully preserved.
On the afternoon of the same day the party came to a broad stream, over which they, or some other of the numerous tribes in the country, had constructed a very simple and curious bridge. It was a single rope attached to an immense mass of rock on one side and to the stem of a large tree on the other. On this tight-rope was fastened a simple loop of cord, so constructed that it could encircle the waist of a man and at the same time traverse from one end of the tight-rope to the other. Barney put on a comical frown when he came to this and saw the leader of the party rest his weight in the loop, and, clinging with hands and legs to the long rope, work himself slowly across.
“Arrah! it’s well for us, Martin, that we’re used to goin’ aloft,” said he, “or that same bridge would try our narves a little.”
“So it would, Barney. I’ve seldom seen a more uncomfortable-looking contrivance. If we lost our hold we should first be dashed to pieces on the rocks, and then be drowned in the river.”
Difficult though the passage seemed, however, it was soon accomplished by the active savages in safety. The only one of the party likely to be left behind was Grampus; whom his master, after much entreaty in dumb-show, was permitted to carry over by tying him firmly to his shoulders. Marmoset crossed over walking, like a tight-rope dancer, being quite au fait at such work. Soon after they came to another curious bridge over a ravine. It had been constructed by simply felling two tall trees on the edge of it in such a manner that they fell across. They were bound together with the supple vines that grew there in profusion. Nature had soon covered the whole over with climbing-plants and luxuriant verdure; and the bridge had become a broad and solid structure, over which the whole party marched with perfect ease. Several such bridges were crossed, and also a few of the rope kind, during the journey.
After many weeks’ constant travelling, the Indians came to a beautiful valley one evening just about sunset — and began to make the usual preparations for encamping. The spot they selected was a singular one. It was the foot of a rocky gorge, up which might be seen trees and bushes mingled with jagged rocks and dark caverns, with a lofty sierra or mountain range in the background. In front was the beautiful valley which they had just crossed. On a huge rock there grew a tree of considerable size, the roots of which projected beyond the rock several yards, and then, bending downwards, struck into the ground. Creeping-plants had twined thickly among the roots, and thus formed a sort of lattice-work which enclosed a large space of ground. In this natural arbour the chiefs of the Indians took up their quarters and kindled their fire in the centre of it, while the main body of the party pitched their camp outside. The three prisoners were allotted a corner in the arbour; and, after having supped, they spread their ponchos on a pile of ferns, and found themselves very snug indeed.
