CHAPTER I--ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON
Miles upon miles from the banks of the mighty river, had you wanderedfar away in the shade of the dark forest that clothed the valleys andstruggled high over the mountain-tops themselves, you would have heardthe roar and the boom of that great buzz-saw.
As early as six of a morning it would start, or soon after the sun, likea huge red-hot shot, had leapt up from his bed in the glowing eastbehind the greenery of the hills and woods primeval.
To a stranger coming from the south towards the Amazon--great queen ofall the rivers on earth--and not knowing he was on the borders ofcivilization, the sound that the huge saw made would have been decidedlyalarming.
He would have stopped and listened, and listening, wondered. Nomenagerie of wild beasts could have sent forth a noise so loud, sostrange, so persistent! Harsh and low at times, as its great teeth torethrough the planks of timber, it would change presently into a dull butdreadful _basso profundo_, such as might have been emitted byantediluvian monsters in the agonies of death or torture, rising anoninto a shrill howl or shriek, then subsiding once again into a steadygrating roar, that seemed to shake the very earth.
Wild beasts in this black forest heard the sounds, and crept stealthilyaway to hide themselves in their caves and dens; caymans or alligatorsheard them too, as they basked in the morning sunshine by lakelet orstream--heard them and crawled away into caves, or took to the waterwith a sullen plunge that caused the finny inhabitants to dart away interror to every point of the compass.
"Up with the tree, lads. Feed him home," cried Jake Solomons loudly butcheerily. "Our pet is hungry this morning. I say, Bill, doesn't shelook a beauty. Ever see such teeth, and how they shine, too, in the redsunlight. Guess you never did, Bill. I say, what chance would thebiggest 'gator that ever crawled have with Betsy here. Why, if Betsygot one tooth in his hide she'd have fifty before you could say'Jerusalem', and that 'gator'd be cut in two. Tear away, Betsy! Grindand groan and growl, my lass! Have your breakfast, my little pet; why,your voice is sweetest music to my ear. I say, Bill, don't the saw-dustfly a few? I should smile!
"But see," he continued, "yonder come the darkies with our matutinal.Girls and boys with baskets, and I can see the steam curling up underChloe's arm from the great flagon she is carrying! Look how her whiteeyes roll, and her white teeth shine as she smiles her six-inch smile!Good girl is Chloe. She knows we're hungry, and that we'll welcome her.Wo, now, Betsy! Let the water off, Bill. Betsy has had her snack, andso we'll have ours."
There was quietness now o'er hill and dell and forest-land.
And this tall Yankee, Jake Solomons, who was fully arrayed in cottonshirt and trousers, his brown arms bare to the shoulder, stretched hissplendidly knit but spare form with a sort of a yawn.
"Heigho, Bill!" he said. "I'm pining for breakfast. Aren't you?"
"That I am," replied Burly Bill with his broadest grin.
Jake ran to the open side of the great saw-mill. Three or four stridestook him there.
"Ah! Good-morning, Chloe, darling! Morning, Keemo! Morning, Kimo!"
"Mawning, sah!" This was a chorus.
"All along dey blessed good-foh-nuffin boys I no come so queeck," saidChloe.
"Stay, stay, Chloe," cried Jake, "never let your angry passions rise.'Sides, Chloe, I calculate such language ain't half-proper. But howglittering your cheeks are, Chloe, how white your teeth! There! yousmile again. And that vermilion blouse sets off your dark complexion toa nicety, and seems just made for it. Chloe, I would kiss you, but thefear of making Bill jealous holds me back."
Burly Bill shook with laughter. Bill was well named the Burly. Thoughnot so tall as Jake, his frame was immense, though perhaps there was alittle more adipose tissue about it than was necessary in a climate likethis. But Bill's strength was wonderful. See him, axe in hand, at thefoot of a tree! How the chips fly! How set and determined the man'sface, while the great beads of sweat stand like pearls on his brow!
Burly Bill was a white man turned black. You couldn't easily haveguessed his age. Perhaps he was forty, but at twenty, when still inEngland, Bill was supple and lithe, and had a skin as white as aschoolboy's. But he had got stouter as the years rolled on, and his facetanned and tanned till it tired of tanning, and first grew purple, andlatterly almost black. The same with those hirsute bare arms of his.
There was none of the wild "Ha! ha!" about Bill's laughter. It was asort of suppressed chuckle, that agitated all his anatomy, the while hismerry good-natured eyes sought shelter behind his cheeks' rotundity.
Under a great spreading tree the two men laid themselves down, and Chloespread their breakfast on a white cloth between them, Jake keeping uphis fire of chaff and sweet nothings while she did so. Keemo and Kimo,and the other "good-foh-nuffin boys" had brought their morning meal tothe men who fed the great buzz-saw.
"Ah, Chloe!" said Jake, "the odour of that coffee would bring the deadto life, and the fish and the beef and the butter, Chloe! Did you doall this yourself?"
"All, sah, I do all. De boys jes' kick about de kitchen and do nuffin."
"Dear tender-eyed Chloe! How clever you are! Guess you won't be so kindto me when you and I get spliced, eh?"
"Ah sah! you no care to marry a poor black gal like Chloe! Dere is asweet little white missie waiting somew'eres foh Massa Jake. I be yourmaid, and shine yo' boots till all de samee's Massa Bill's cheek fohtrue."
As soon as Chloe with her "good-foh-nuffin boys" had cleared away thebreakfast things, and retired with a smile and saucy toss of her curlypoll, the men lay back and lit their pipes.
"She's a bright intelligent girl that," said Jake. "I don't want a wifeor--but I say, Bill, why don't you marry her? I guess she'd make ye atip-topper."
"Me! Is it marry?"
Burly Bill held back his head and chuckled till he well-nigh choked.
Honest Bill's ordinary English showed that he came from the old country,and more particularly from the Midlands. But Bill could talk properlyenough when he pleased, as will soon be seen.
He smoked quietly enough for a time, but every now and then he feltconstrained to take his meerschaum from his mouth and give anotherchuckle or two.
"Tchoo-hoo-hoo!" he laughed. "Me marry! And marry Chloe!Tchoo-hoo-hoo!"
"To change the subject, William," said Jake, "seein' as how you'vepretty nearly chuckled yourself silly, or darned near it, how long haveyou left England?"
"W'y, I coom over with Mr. St. Clair hisse'f, and Roland w'y he weren'tmore'n seven. Look at 'e now, and dear little Peggy, 'is sister byadoption as ever was, weren't a month over four. Now Rolly 'e bees nighonto fifteen, and Peggy--the jewel o' the plantation--she's goin' on fortwelve, and main tall for that. W'y time do fly! Don't she, Jake?"
"Well, I guess I've been here five years, and durn me if I want toleave. Could we have a better home? I'd like to see it. I'd smile afew odd ones. But listen, why here comes the young 'uns!"
There was the clatter of ponies' feet, and next minute as handsome a boyas ever sat in saddle, and as pretty and bright a lassie as you couldwish to meet, galloped into the clearing, and reined up their spiritedlittle steeds close to the spot where the men were lounging.
Burly Bill stuck his thumb into the bowl of his meerschaum to put itout, and Jake threw his pipe on the bank.
Roland was tall for his age, like Peggy. But while a mass of fair andirrepressible hair curled around the boy's sun-burned brow, Peggy's hairwas straight and black. When she rode fast it streamed out behind herlike pennons in the breeze. What a bright and sunny face was hers too!There was ever a happy smile about her red lips and dark eyes.
"You've got to begin to smoke again immediately," said the boy.
"No, no, Master Roland, not in the presence of your sister."
"But," cried Peggy, with a pretty show of pomposity, "I command you!"
"Ah, then, indeed!" said Jake; and soon both men were blowing cloudsthat made the
very mosquitoes change their quarters.
"Father'll be up soon, riding on Glancer. This nag threw Father, cominghome last night. Mind, Glancer is seventeen hands and over."
"He threw him?"
"That he did, in the moonlight. Scared at a 'gator. Father says heheard the 'gator's great teeth snapping and thought he was booked. Butlo! Jake, at that very moment Glancer struck out with bothhind-legs--you know how he is shod. He smashed the 'gator's skull, andthe beast turned up his yellow belly to the moon."
"Bravo!"
"Then Father mounted mighty Glancer and rode quietly home.
"Peggy and I," he continued, "have ridden along the bank to thebattlefield to hold a coroner's inquest on the 'gator, but he's beenhauled away by his relations. I suppose they'll make potato soup ofhim."
Burly Bill chuckled.
"Well, Peggy and I are off. See you in the evening, Jake. By-by!"
And away they rode, like a couple of wild Indians, followed by a hugeIrish wolf-hound, as faithful a dog to his mistress--for he was Peggy'sown pet--as ever dog could be.
They were going to have a day in the forest, and each carried a shortsix-chambered rifle at the saddle.
A country like the wild one in which they dwelt soon makes anyone braveand fearless. They meant to ride quite a long way to-day and not returntill the sun began to decline in the far and wooded west. So, beingalready quite an old campaigner, Roland had not forgotten to bringluncheon with him, and some for bold Brawn also.
Into the forest they dashed, leaving the mighty river, which was thereabout fifteen miles broad probably, in their rear.
They knew every pathway of that primeval woodland, and it mattered butlittle to them that most of these had been worn by the feet of wildbeasts. Such tracks wind out and in, and in and out, and meet others inthe most puzzling and labyrinthine manner.
Roland carried a compass, and knew how to use it, but the day wasunusually fine and sunny, so there was little chance of their gettinglost.
The country in which they lived might well have been called the land ofperpetual summer.
But at some spots the forest was so pitchy dark, owing to theoverhanging trees and wild flowering creepers, that they had to rein upand allow Coz and Boz, as their ponies were named, to cautiously feelthe way for themselves.
How far away they might have ridden they could not themselves tell, hadthey not suddenly entered a kind of fairy glade. At one side it wasbounded by a crescentic formation of rock, from the very centre of whichspouted a tiny clear crystal waterfall. Beneath was a deep pool, thebottom of which was sand and yellow shingle, with here and there a patchof snow-white quartz. And away from this a little stream wentmeandering slowly through the glade, keeping it green.
On the other side were the lordly forest trees, bedraped with floweringorchids and ferns.
Flowers and ferns grew here and there in the rockface itself. No wonderthe young folks gazed around them in delighted wonder.
Brawn was more practical. He cared nothing for the flowers, but enjoyedto the fullest extent the clear cool water of the crystal pool.
"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said Roland.
"And oh, I am so hungry, Rolly!"
Rolly took the hint.
The ponies were let loose to graze, Brawn being told to head them off ifthey attempted to take to the woods.
"I understand," said Brawn, with an intelligent glance of his brown eyesand wag of his tail.
Then down the boy and girl squatted with the noble wolf-hound besidethem, and Roland speedily spread the banquet on the moss.
I dare say that hunger and romance seldom tread the same platform--atthe same time, that is. It is usually one down, the other up; andnotwithstanding the extraordinary beauty of their surroundings, for sometime both boy and girl applied themselves assiduously to the discussionof the good things before them; that meat-pie disappearing as if bymagic. Then the hard-boiled eggs, the well-buttered and flouriest offloury scones, received their attention, and the whole was washed downwith _vinum bovis_, as Roland called it, cow's wine, or good milk.
Needless to say, Brawn, whose eyes sparkled like diamonds, and whoseears were conveniently erect, came in for a good share.
Well, but the ponies, Boz and Coz, had not the remotest idea of runningaway. In fact they soon drew near to the banqueting-table. Coz laidhis nose affectionately on his little mistress's shoulder and heaved anequine sigh, and Boz began to nibble at Roland's ears in a very winningway.
And the nibbling and the sigh brought them cakes galore.
Roland offered Boz a bit of pie.
The pony drew back, as if to say, "Vegetarians, weren't you aware?"
But Brawn cocked his bonnie head to one side, knowingly.
"Pitch it this way, master," he said. "I've got a crop for any kind ofcorn, and a bag for peas."
A strange little rodent creature, much bigger than any rat, however,with beautiful sad-looking eyes, came from the bush, and stood on itshind-legs begging, not a yard away. Its breast was as white as snow.
Probably it had no experience of the genus _homo_, and all the crueltieshe is guilty of, under the title of sport.
Roland pitched several pieces of pie towards the innocent. It justtasted a morsel, then back it ran towards the wood with wondrous speed.
If they thought they had seen the last of it, they were much mistaken,for the innocent returned in two minutes time, accompanied not only byanother of his own size, but by half a dozen of the funniest littlefairies ever seen inside a forest.
"My wife and children," said innocent No. 1.
"My services to you," bobbed innocent No. 2.
But the young ones squawked and squealed, and tumbled and leapt overeach other as they fed in a manner so droll that boy and girl had tolaugh till the woods rang.
Innocent No. 1 looked on most lovingly, but took not a morsel tohimself.
Then all disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
Truly the student of Nature who betakes himself to lonely woods seesmany wonders!
It was time now to lie back in the moss and enjoy the _dolce farniente_.
The sky was as blue as blue could be, all between the rifts ofslowly-moving clouds. The whisper of the wind among the forest trees,and the murmur of the falling water, came like softest music to Roland'sears. Small wonder, therefore, that his eyes closed, and he was soon inthe land of sweet forgetfulness.
But Peggy had a tiny book, from which she read passages to Brawn, whoseemed all attention, but kept one eye on the ponies at the same time.
It was a copy of the "Song of Hiawatha", a poem which Peggy thoughtineffably lovely. Hark to her sweet girl voice as she reads:
"These songs so wild and wayward, These legends and traditions".
They appealed to her simple soul, for dearly did she love the haunts ofNature.
"Loved the sunshine of the meadow, Loved the shadow of the forest, Loved the wind among the branches, The rushing of great rivers Through their palisades of pine-trees."
She believed, too:
"That even in savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings For the good they comprehend not; That feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand... And are lifted up and strengthened".
----
Roland slumbered quietly, and the day went on apace.
He slept so peacefully that she hardly liked to arouse him.
The little red book dropped from her hand and fell on the moss, and herthoughts now went far, far away adown the mighty river that flows sosadly, so solemnly onwards to the great Atlantic Ocean, fed on its wayby a hundred rapid streams that melt in its dark bosom and are seennevermore.
But it was not the river itself the little maiden's thoughts weredwelling on; not the strange wild birds that sailed along its surface onsnow-white wings; not the birds of prey--the eagle and the hawk--thathovered high in ai
r, or with eldritch screams darted on their prey likebolts from the blue, and bore their bleeding quarries away to the silentforest; not even the wealth of wild flowers that nodded over the banksof the mighty stream.
Her thoughts were on board a tall and darksome raft that was slowlymaking its way seaward to distant Para, or in the boats that towed it.For there was someone on the raft or in those boats who even then mightbe fondly thinking of the dark-haired maiden he had left behind.
But Peggy's awakening from her dream of romance, and Roland's from hisslumber, was indeed a terrible one.