CHAPTER XX--THE PAGAN PAYNEES WERE THIRSTING FOR BLOOD
A glance at any good map will show the reader the bearings and flow ofthis romantic and beautiful river, the Madeira. It will show himsomething else--the suggestive names of some of the cataracts or rapidsthat have to be negotiated by the enterprising sportsman or traveller inthis wild land.
The Misericordia Rapids and the Calderano de Inferno speak forthemselves. The latter signifies Hell's Cauldron, and the former speaksto us of many a terrible accident that has occurred here--boats upset,bodies washed away in the torrent, or men seized and dragged below byvoracious alligators before the very eyes of despairing friends.
The Cauldron of Hell is a terrible place, and consists of a whole seriesof rapids each more fierce than the other. To attempt to stem currentslike these would of course be madness. There is nothing for it butportage for a whole mile and more, and it can easily be guessed thatthis is slow and toilsome work indeed. Nor was the weather alwayspropitious. Sometimes storms raged through the woods, with thunder,lightning, and drenching rain; or even on the brightest of days, downmight sweep a whirlwind, utterly wrecking acres and acres of forest,tearing gigantic trees up by the roots, twisting them as if they wereropes, or tossing them high in air, and after cutting immense gapsthrough the jungle, retire, as if satisfied with the chaos anddevastation worked, to the far-off mountain lands.
Once when, with their rifles in hand, Roland and Dick were watching asmall flock of tapirs at a pond of water, which formed the centre of agreen oasis in the dark forest, they noticed a balloon-shaped cloud inthe south. It got larger and larger as it advanced towards them, itsgreat twisted tail seeming to trail along the earth.
Lightning played incessantly around it, and as it got nearer loud pealsof thunder were heard.
This startled the tapirs. They held their heads aloft and snorted withterror, running a little this way and that, but huddling together atlast in a timid crowd.
Down came the awful whirlwind and dashed upon them.
Roland and Dick threw themselves on the ground, face downwards,expecting death every moment.
The din, the dust, the crashing and roaring, were terrific!
When the storm had passed not a bush or leaf of the wood in which ourheroes lay had been stirred. But the glade was now a strange sight.
The waters of the pool had been taken up. The pond was dry. Onlyhalf-dead alligators lay there, writhing in agony, but every tapir hadbeen not only killed but broken up, and mingled with twisted trees,pieces of rock, and hillocks of sand.
Truly, although Nature in these regions may very often be seen in hermost beautiful aspects, fearful indeed is she when in wrath and rage shecomes riding in storms and whirlwinds from off the great table-lands,bent on ravaging the country beneath.
"What a merciful escape!" said Roland, as he sat by Dick gazing on thedestruction but a few yards farther off.
"I could not have believed it," returned Dick. "Fancy a whirlwind likethat sweeping over our camp, Roland?"
"Yes, Dick, or over our boats on the river; but we must trust inProvidence."
Roland now blew his whistle, and a party of his own Indians soonappeared, headed by a few white men.
"Boys," said Roland smiling, "my friend and I came out to shoot youngtapir for you. Behold! Dame Nature has saved us the trouble, and fleshis scattered about in all directions."
The Indians soon selected the choicest, and departed, singing theirstrange, monotonous chant.
Presently Burly Bill himself appeared.
He stood there amazed and astonished for fully half a minute before hecould speak, and when he did it was to revert to his good old-fashionedBerkshire dialect.
"My eye and Elizabeth Martin!" he exclaimed. "What be all that? Well, Inever! 'Ad an 'urricane, then?"
"It looks a trifle like it, Bill; but sit you down. Got yourmeerschaum?"
"I've got him right enough."
And it was not long before he began to blow a kind of hurricane cloud.For when Bill smoked furnaces weren't in it.
"Do you think we have many more rapids to get past, Bill?"
"A main lot on 'em, Master Roland. But we've got to do 'em. We haven'tgot to funk, has we?"
"Oh no, Bill! but don't you think that we might have done better to havekept to the land altogether?"
"No," said Bill bluntly, "I do not. We never could have got along, lad.Rivers to cross by fords that we might have had to travel leagues andleagues to find, lakes to bend round, marshes and swamps, where lurks aworse foe than your respectable and gentlemanly 'gators."
"What, snakes?"
"Oh, plenty of them! But I was a-loodin' to fever, what the doctorscalls malarial fever, boys.
"No, no," he added, "we'll go on now until we meet poor Benee, if he isstill alive. If anything has happened to him--"
"Or if he is false," interrupted Dick; "false as Peter would have usbelieve--"
"Never mind wot Mr. Bloomin' Peter says! I swears by Benee, and nothingless than death can prevent his meeting us somewhere about the mouth ofthe Maya-tata River. You can bet your bottom dollar on that, lads."
"Well, that is the rendezvous anyhow."
"Oh," cried Dick, "sha'n't we be all rejoiced to see Benee once more!"
"God grant," said Roland, "he may bring us good news."
"He is a good man and will bring good tidings," ventured Burly Bill.
Then he went on blowing his cloud, and the boys relapsed into silence.
Each was thinking his own thoughts. But they started up at last.
"I've managed to secure a grand healthy appetite!" cried Roland.
"And so has this pale-faced boy," said Bill, shoving his great thumb asusual into the bowl of his meerschaum.
So back to camp they started.
Brawn had been on duty not far from Mr. Peter's tent, but he bounded upnow with a joyful bark, and rushed forward to meet them.
He displayed as much love and joy as if he had not seen them for a wholemonth.
For ten days longer the expedition struggled onwards.
The work was hard enough, but it really strengthened their hearts andincreased the size of their muscles, till both their calves and bicepswere as hard and tough as the stays of a battle-ship.
Some people might think it strange, but it is a fact nevertheless, thatthe stronger they grew the happier and more hopeful were they. We maytry to account for this physiologically or psychologically as we choose,but the great truth remains.
----
One or two of the men were struck down with ague-fever, but Roland madethem rest while on shore and lie down while on board.
Meanwhile he doctored them with soup made from the choicest morsels ofyoung tapir, with green fresh vegetable mixed therein, and for medicinethey had rum and quinine, or rather, quinine in rum.
The men liked their soup, but they liked their physic better.
Between the rapids of Arara and the falls of Madeira was a beautifulsheet of water, and, being afraid of snags or submerged rocks, thecanoes were kept well out into the stream.
They made great progress here. The day was unusually fine. Hot the sunwas certainly, but the men wore broad straw sombreros, and, seated inthe shadow of their bamboo cabin, our heroes were cool and happy enough.
The luscious acid fruits and fruit-drinks they partook of contributedlargely to their comfort.
Dick started a song, a river song he had learned on his uncle'splantation, and as Burly Bill's great canoe was not far off, he got asplendid bass.
The scenery on each bank was very beautiful; rocks, and hills coveredwith great trees, the branches of which near to the stream with theirwealth of foliage and climbing flowers, bent low to kiss the placidwaters that went gliding, lapping, and purling onwards.
Who could have believed that aught of danger to our heroes and theirpeople could lurk anywhere beneath these sun-gilt trees?
But even as they sang, fier
ce eyes were jealously watching them from thewestern bank.
Presently first one arrow, and anon a whole shower of these deadlymissiles, whizzed over them.
One struck the cabin roof right above Dick's head, and another torethrough the hat of the captain himself.
But rifles were carried loaded, and Roland was ready.
"Lay in your oars, men! Up, guns! Let them have a volley! Straight atyonder bush! Fire low, lads! See, yonder is a savage!"
Dick took aim at a dark-skinned native who stood well out from the wood,and fired. He was close to the stream and had been about to shoot, butDick's rifle took away his breath, and with an agonized scream he threwup his arms and fell headlong into the water.
Volley after volley rang out now on the still air, and soon it wasevident that the woods were cleared.
"Those are the Paynee Indians without a doubt," said Dick; "the samesable devils that the skipper of that steamer warned us about."
They saw no more of the enemy then, however, and the afternoon passed inpeace.
An hour and a half before sunset they landed at the mouth of a small butclear river, about ten miles to the north of the Falls of Woe.
Close to the Madeira itself this lovely stream was thickly banked byforest, but the boats were taken higher up, and here excellentcamping-ground was found in a country sparsely wooded.
Far away to the west rose the everlasting hills, and our heroes thoughtthey could perceive snow in the chasms between the rocks.
Roland had not forgotten the adventure with the Indians, so scouts weresent out at once to scour the woods. They returned shortly beforesunset, having seen no one.
Both Roland and Dick were somewhat uneasy in their minds, nevertheless,and after dinner, in the wan and uncertain light of a half-moon, adouble row of sentries was posted, and orders were given that theyshould be relieved every two hours, for the night was close and sultry,just such a night as causes restless somnolence. At such times a sentrymay drop to sleep leaning on his gun or against a tree. He may slumberfor an hour and not be aware he has even closed an eye.
The boys themselves felt a strange drowsiness stealing away theirsenses. They would have rolled themselves up in their rugs and soughtrepose at once, but this would have made the night irksomely long.
So they chatted, and even sang, till their usual hour.
When they turned in, instead of dressing in a pyjama suit, they retainedthe clothes they had worn all day.
Dick noticed that Roland was doing so, and followed his example. Noreason was given by his friend, but Dick could guess it. Guess alsowhat he meant by placing a rifle close beside him and looking to hisrevolvers before he lay down.
Everyone in camp, except those on duty, was by this time sound asleep.Lights and fires were out, and the stillness was almost painful.
Roland would have preferred hearing the wind sighing among the foresttrees, the murmur of the river, or even the mournful wailing of thegreat blue owl.
But never a leaf stirred, and as the moon sank lower and lower towardsthose strangely rugged and serrated mountains of the west, the boysthemselves joined the sleepers, and all their care and anxiety was forthe time being forgotten.
The night waned and waned. The sentries had been changed, and it wasnow nearly one o'clock.
There was a lake about a mile above the camp, that is, a mile fartherwestwards. It was surrounded by tall waving reeds, at least an acrewide all round.
The home _par excellence_ of the dreaded 'gator was this dark and sombresheet of water, for to it almost nightly came the tapirs to quench theirthirst and to bathe.
Silently a troop of these wonderful creatures came up out of the forestto-night, all in a string, with the largest and oldest a little way infront.
Every now and then these pioneers would pause to listen. They knew thewiliness of the enemy that might be lying in wait for them. So acute inhearing are they said to be that they can distinguish the sound of asnake gliding over withered leaves at a distance of a hundred yards.But their sight also is a great protection to them. No 'gator can moveamong the reeds without bending them, move he never so warily. Aboveall this, the tapir's sense of smell is truly marvellous.
To-night the old tapirs that led the van seemed particularly suspiciousand cautious. Their signal for silence was a kind of snort or cough,and this was now ofttimes repeated.
Suddenly the foremost tapir stamped his foot, and at once the wholedrove turned or wheeled and glided back as silently as they had come,until the shadows of the great forest swallowed them up.
What had they seen or heard? They had seen tall, dark humanfigures--one, two, three--a score and over, suddenly raise their headsand shoulders above the reeds, and after standing for a moment so stillthat they seemed part and parcel of the solemn scene, move out from thejungle and take their way towards the slumbering camp.
Savages all, and on a mission of death.
Nobody's dreams could have been a bit more happy than those of DickTemple just at this moment.
He was sitting once more on the deck of the great raft, which was slowlygliding down the sunlit sea-like Amazon. The near bank was tree-clad,and every branch was garlanded with flowers of rainbow hues.
But Dick looked not on the trees nor the flowers, nor the wavingundulating forest itself--looked not on the sun-kissed river. His eyeswere fixed on a brightly-beautiful and happy face. It was Peggy who satbeside him, Peggy to whom he was breathing words of affection and love,Peggy with shy, half-flushed face and slightly averted head.
But suddenly this scene was changed, and he awoke with a start to grasphis rifle. A shrill quavering yell rang through the camp, and awakenedevery echo in the forest.
The Indians--the dreaded Paynee tribe of cannibals--were on them. Thatyell was a war-cry. These pagan Paynees were thirsting for blood.