the other fellows haveall gone to sleep, and I feel so drowsy I really--don't--know--howlong--'
"He said no more; he was asleep.
"`Poor fellows,' I said to myself, as I took up my gun and prepared toleave the room, `they're tired. I'll station myself here by the door,where I can be in the dry and still see all that is going on.'
"The storm continued with unabated violence. The rain came down insheets; the thunder seemed to rend the old fort and shake it to its veryfoundation, while the lightning was everywhere; the whole world lookedas if on fire. Night was coming on, and rude though our shelter was, Ifelt thankful we were not out in the gloom of the forest.
"`How soundly they sleep!' I said to myself about half an hour afterwhen I went to heap more wood on the five. `How I envy them! I'll sita moment and think. The Indians are not so bad as they look. Firstimpressions are not always--the--best.'
"The next thing I was conscious of was hearing voices close beside me.It was the Indians bending over me and over my companions, and seemingto listen for our breathing.
"`They're dead,' one said.
"`Better make sure,' said another.
"Then with half-open eyes I could see drawn daggers gleaming in thefire-light; but I was unable to stir hand or foot; I felt like one insome dreadful nightmare. I tried to shriek, but my voice failed me.Then, `O God, be merciful to us!' I inwardly prayed, `for our hour iscome.'
"Two Indians advanced, knives in hand, towards the mate. One pulled hishead back, the other had his arm uplifted to strike, when suddenly hesprang back appalled.
"Was it sent as in answer to my prayer? I know not; yet I firmlybelieve nothing happens by chance. The electric fluid had entered bythe roof, shattering the masonry and scattering the fire. It gleamed onthe uplifted knife of the would-be assassin; he dropped it, and with armparalysed and hanging by his side fled shrieking from the building. Theothers uttered exclamations of terror and surprise, and quickly followedthe first.
"I remember no more then. Daylight was shimmering in through the brokenroof of the building, and the fire had long gone out, when I awokeshivering, and started to my feet.
"Almost at the same moment the mate jumped up. He was the first tospeak.
"`We have been drugged,' he cried, pressing his hand to his aching head.
"`Drugged?' I answered. `Yes, fools that we were to trust thosescoundrels; we've been drugged, and, doubtless, robbed.'
"The mate looked very pale and ghastly in the early light of themorning; probably I myself looked little better. My surmise was right:the Indians had gone. They had taken all our goods and our pack-muleswith them, and driven away the spare animals. Thank goodness, they hadleft us our arms and ammunition.
"Not even on the morning after the shipwreck did we poor fellows feel somiserable as we did now, seated round a meagre meal of bananas andgourds.
"But we were intent on regaining our goods.
"Clever though these Indians might be if alone and unencumbered, theycould hardly go fast, nor far at a time, through forest and jungle withhorses and laden mules. Nor could they go anywhere without leaving atrail that even a white man could pick up and follow.
"The rain of the previous night favoured us. We soon found the trail,and, better still, we had not gone very far ere a sound fell upon ourears that caused us to pause and listen. It was soon repeated--theneighing of a horse. I sprang into the jungle, and there, to my joy,found not only the horse I had ridden, but two others and some mulesbesides. The poor brutes were quietly browsing on the herbage and thetender leaves of young palm-trees, but were evidently delighted to seeus.
"We went on now with more comfort, and had good hope of speedily comingup with the pillaging Indians, of whom we never doubted we could give agood account.
"Somewhat to our surprise we found they were taking a westerlydirection, instead of going east and by north, as they had been leadingus. They were either then bent upon returning to their own village, ormaking their way to some seaport where they could sell their plunder.If this latter surmise was the correct one, we were comparatively safe;if the former, any chance we had of recapturing our goods lay in ourbeing able to come up with them before they were reinforced by membersof their own tribe. This thought made us redouble our exertions. Butwe were weak for want of food and from the effects of the drug that hadbeen administered to us on the previous evening, so that our progresswas not so great as we wished it to be.
"The trail continued all day to lead us through the jungle; but beforesunset we found ourselves out in the open, on the brow of a hill thatoverlooked a vast, almost treeless, swamp. It was bounded on thefurther horizon by a chain of mountains--spurs, no doubt, of theubiquitous Andes. Away to the left, and just under the hills, we couldsee smoke rising, and had no doubt that here our friends were encamped.
"We speedily held a council of war, at which we discussed the best planfor attacking the Indians.
"We stirred not then till long past nine o'clock, when the moon rose andflooded all the landscape. Then we took to the swamp. It was aterrible ride: at times our horses floundered in the quagmires, at othertimes they had to swim, to our imminent danger of being devoured by thehuge alligators with which the place seemed to swarm. We startled thebirds from their beds in the reeds, the wild beasts from their lairs inthe patches of jungle, and herds of fleet-footed creatures fled,bounding away towards the forest at sight of us. It was a dangerousride. But we cared for nothing now; it was life or death with us. Wemust reach the camp of the Indians, conquer them, or die in the attempt.
"All night we rode, struggling and fighting against fearful odds; but atfive o'clock in the morning, or about one hour before sunrise, we leftthe plain and entered the forest, determined to take our foes bysurprise. The ride through the tangled forest, without any pathway savethat made by the beasts, was one of extreme difficulty. But we werefree at last; and tethering our horses, we prepared for the attack. Wecould see the Indians on a small plateau not three hundred yards beneathus, asleep by their smouldering fires. But we were on the brow of ahill, they much nearer the plain; beneath was a precipice, overhung withtrailing shrubs and creepers, fully five hundred feet in depth, which itwas impossible to descend without risk of being seen.
"The place the Indians had chosen for a camping-ground was fortified bynature. Probably that is the reason they had not troubled to set asentry. We saw our advantage at once; it was to make a detour, gain thelevel of the plain, then creep up the hill upon them, attacking both inflank and rear.
"We carried out our plans most successfully. Few but sailors could haveclimbed up the rocks which led to the plateau. So steep were they thatin some places the loosening of a stone or one false step might meandeath.
"Just as we were at the very brink of this precipice, and within twentyyards of where the enemy lay, a bough snapped with a loud report, andnext moment they were all up and on the alert.
"There was no need for further concealment; we speedily showedourselves, poured a volley into their bewildered ranks, and before theycould recover from their surprise we were on them with our muskets,which we used as clubs.
"They were nearly three to one. They fought like fiends. So did we,and the battle for a time was desperate. They were beaten at last, andthe few who remained alive ran shrieking away towards the rocks. Wecared but little how they fared.
"Our mate and another man were wounded, but not severely, and in twodays' time we were able to resume our journey.
"Providence was kind to us. We came upon a broad old war-road that ledthrough the forest and jungles and plains towards the setting sun, andin one week more we were overjoyed to find ourselves standing on ahill-side overlooking a verdant plain, with a river and a town, andbeyond it the blue sea itself, studded with the ships of many nations.
"And those who climb the hills in Greenland in spring-time to catch thefirst rays of the returning sun, were not more joyful than we were now.We laughed and shouted, and I believe th
e tears rolled down over ourcheeks.
"But we did not forget to kneel down there, and, with our faces on theground, thank in silence the kind Father who had led us through so manytroubles and dangers. And now, Nie, the storm is gone. We must thankthese good people for their kind hospitality, and start."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
"Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad. The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike. No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm; So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."
Shakespeare.
It was Christmas Eve. It was going to be an old old-fashionedChristmas, too, there was no mistake about that. And to-night the snowlay fully two feet deep on