CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
IN WHICH INGENUITY, COMICALITY, FEROCITY, ECCENTRICITY, FECUNDITY, ANDSOME OTHER "ITIES" IN MAN AND BEAST ARE MENTIONED.
Plain sailing, fair weather, perpetual calm and sunshine are not the lotof any man or woman here.
The weather, that fertile source of human intercourse, is occasionallyboisterous as well as serene in the regions of Peru and Bolivia. A dayor two after the events recounted in the last chapter our travellersexperienced a sudden change.
We have said that they had come to a part of the river where there wereoccasional stretches of sand, and here they had evidence of theimprovident nature of Indians, in the number of turtle-shells foundlying on the sands with parts of the animals still adhering to them.
On one particular spot they found a space, of about seventy yards indiameter completely covered with the upper and under shells of turtles.These had evidently been cut asunder violently with hatchets, andreddish-brown furrows in the sands told where streams of blood hadflowed during the massacre.
"What wanton slaughter!" exclaimed Lawrence, as he and his friends stoodlooking at the scene.
"And it is not long since it was done," said Pedro, "for the flesh--atleast what's left of it--is still fresh."
"Ugh, you brutes!" exclaimed Quashy, referring to a number of urubuvultures which stood on the shells, all more or less gorged, some stilltearing sleepily at the meat, others standing in apoplectic apathy,quite unable to fly.
They counted upwards of three hundred dead turtles, and this carnage, itwas afterwards ascertained, had been the work of only a dozen or so ofIndians--not for food, but for the sake of the fine yellow fat coveringthe intestines, which formed an article of commerce at the time betweenthe red men and the white.
That night after supper time the party busied themselves in makingmosquito-curtains out of a small quantity of green muslin obtained fromSpotted Tiger's father-in-law, who had received it from themissionaries. The supply being quite insufficient to make curtains forthem all, Quashy had set his fertile brain to work and devised a speciesof net which, having never been seen in that country before, deservesspecial notice. It may serve as a hint to other mortals similarlysituated and tormented.
"You mus' know," remarked Quashy to his friends, who watched him whilehe fabricated the first of these curtains, "dat my gran'fadder was ainjineer, an' some ob his geenus comed down to me. Dat's why I's soclebber wid my hands. Has you got dem hoops tied, massa?"
"All right, Quashy, I'm just finishing the last one. There--are thesethe right sizes?"
"Das right, massa. Biggest two one futt six in dameter; oder two leetleones, one futt. Now, you looks here, ladies an' gen'lemen. See, I'smade a bag ob dis muzzlin 'bout two futt six long an' 'bout two futtwide. Well, one end ob de bag is close up--as you see. 'Tother end amopen--as you b'hold. Vwalla! as de Frenchman says. Now, I puts into declosed end one small hoop--so. Den de two large hoops--so--'bout sixinches apart. Den de leetle hoop--so. Which makes my bag into what youmay call a gauze-barrel, wid de hoops inside 'stead ob outside. Nixt, Iputs it ober my head, lets de bottom hoop rest on my shoulders, shovesde slack ob de veil--I calls it a veil, not a curtin,--down my neckunder my poncho, so's nuffin can git inside, an' dere you are. Noskeeters git at me now!"
"But, Quash," said Lawrence, who had watched the making of thisingenious device, as well as lent assistance, "there are mosquitoesinside it even now; and with such swarms as are about us, how will youkeep them out while putting the thing on."
"Don' call it a `t'ing,' massa," said Quashy, with a dignified look,"call it a `veil.' Dere's nuflin easier. See here."
He rose, took off the veil, and flattened the hoops down on each other,so as to drive out all that might be inside. Then he stepped to leewardof the fire, held his breath for a few seconds while in the smoke,quickly adjusted his novel head-piece, and stood up fully armed againstthe "skeeters."
"But," still objected Lawrence, "how can you lay your head on yourpillow with such a thing--beg pardon, such a veil on?"
"Nuffin easier, massa."
He illustrated his point by rolling over into one of the nearesthammocks--which had already been hung--and laying his head down, when,of course, the machine bulged away from his black face, and thediscomfited millions kept thrusting their probosces--and, doubtless,making faces at him--ineffectually.
"But how if you should want to roll about in your sleep?" asked Pedro.
"_Don't_ want to roll about in your sleep!" replied the negro, curtly.
It is right to say that, in spite of the advice thus firmly given,Quashy _did_ roll in his sleep that night, with the result that his noseat last got close to the veil and pressed against it. No malignant foeever took advantage of an enemy's weak point more promptly than did the"skeeters" of Quashy's nocturnal trumpet. They settled on its pointwith a species of triumphant hum. They warred with each other in theirbloodthirsty desire to seize on the delicate but limited morsel. It was"cut and come again"--at least it was "cut away and let others comeon"--as long as the chance lasted. And the consequence was that Quashyrose next morning with two noses! His natural nose being a mere lump offat and the lump raised on it being much the same in form and size withthe original, we feel justified in saying that he had two noses--nearly.
Notwithstanding, it is but fair to add that the veils were afterwardspronounced a great success.
But to return.
That night, after the veils in question had been made and put on by allexcept Tiger, who was skeeto-proof, and the happy wearers were steepedin blissful repose, a tremendous hurricane burst upon them, withthunder, lightning, and rain. The wind came in furious gusts which toreaway some of the veils, overturned the hammocks, scattered the bedding,extinguished the fire, drenched them to the skin, and otherwise renderedthem supremely miserable.
Retiring to a thicker part of the jungle, they cut down branches andmade a temporary erection which they covered with ponchos and blankets;but as everything had to be done in the dark, it was a wretched affair,and, at the best, only a partial protection. Into the furthestextremity of this hut poor Manuela crept. The others followed, andthere they all sat or reclined, shivering, till morning.
About daybreak Lawrence heard Pedro and the Indian girl conversing inthe Indian language and in unusually earnest tones, which wereinterrupted once or twice by slight laughter. He wondered much whatthey found to laugh at, but having become by that time accustomed to theguide's little touches of mystery, and being very sleepy, he did nottrouble himself about it long.
The storm happily was short-lived, and when the sun appeared, enablingthem to dry their garments, and a good breakfast had been eaten, thediscomforts of the past night were forgotten, and Quashy even ceased togrowl at the "skeeters" and lament his double nose.
Hitherto they had met with few Indians, and these few were friendly,being acquainted either personally or by report with Spotted Tiger, forthe man's reputation as a jaguar and puma slayer had extended far beyondhis own tribe. That day, however, several native canoes were passed,and in the evening they found that the place on which Tiger had made uphis mind to encamp was in possession of Indians.
"Friendly?" asked Pedro, as they approached the shore.
"Yes, friendly," replied Tiger.
"Would it not be better to go a little further and encamp away fromthem?" asked Lawrence, who retained unpleasant memories of the dirtinessof Indian encampments.
"Tiger wishes to speak to them," said Pedro, as the canoe was run onshore.
It was found that the party consisted of several families of Indians whowere out on a turtle-hunting expedition, for the season had arrived whenturtles lay their eggs.
This laying season of the turtle sets the whole population of thoseregions, civilised and savage, in motion, searching in the sands foreggs, and capturing or killing the animals. The Indians now met withwere on the latter business. Upon the weather depends the commencementof this season of unwonted activity a
mong the turtles and wildexcitement among the river-side Indians, for the snows must cease tofall on the summits of the Andes, and the rivers must decrease in volumeso as to lay bare vast spaces of sand, before the eggs can be laid.
No alderman in London city ever equalled--much less excelled--a SouthAmerican savage of that region in his love of turtle, or in his capacityfor devouring it. But the savage goes immeasurably further than thealderman! He occupies altogether a higher and more noble position inregard to the turtle, for he not only studies, with prolonged care anddeep interest, its habits and manners, but follows it, watches it,catches it, kills it, and, finally, cooks it with his own hands, beforearriving at the alderman's comparatively simple and undignified act ofeating it.
So exact are these Indians in their observations and knowledge of theturtle question, that they can tell almost to a day when and where theirunsuspecting victims will land and lay. There was an extensive stretchof flat sand close to the spot where our voyageurs put ashore, on whichthe Indians had observed numerous claw-marked furrows, which had beentraced by the turtles. Here, therefore, they had called a halt, built anumber of ajoupas, or leafy sheds, about two hundred yards from the edgeof the river, under the shelter of which to sit at night and watch fortheir prey.
The turtles, it was found, were expected to land that night. Meanwhile,the savages were regaling themselves with a splendid dish, or ratherjar, containing hundreds of turtles' eggs, mixed with bananas.
These they hospitably shared with their visitors. The mess was verypalatable, though "heavy," and our travellers did justice to it--especially the negro, whose gastronomic powers were equal to allemergencies.
"How do they know," asked Lawrence, as he and Pedro busied themselves intying up the hammocks in a suitable part of the jungle, "when to expectthe turtles?"
"Who can tell?" said Pedro. "Instinct, I suppose."
"But dey not stink at all," objected Quashy, "anyhow, not till arterdey's dead, so't can't be dat."
"It's not that kind of stink I mean, Quashy; quite another sort," saidPedro, who felt unequal to the task of explanation. "But look sharp; wemust lend the Indians a helping hand to-night."
"But I don't know nuffin about it," said Quashy, "an' a man what don'tknow what to do is on'y in de way ob oder peepil."
"You take a just view of things, boy," returned Pedro, "but you won'tfind it difficult to learn. Five minutes looking at what the Indians dowill suffice, for they only turn the turtles."
"How you mean? Turn 'im upside-down, or outside in--w'ich?"
"You'd find it hard to do the last, Quashy. No, you've only to turnthem over on their backs, and let them lie; that's all."
While the negro was thus gathering useful knowledge, the Indians amusedthemselves in various ways until darkness should call them forth to thebusiness of the hour. Some, with that amazing tendency to improve theirpersonal appearance, which is common alike to civilised and savage,plucked out the little beard with which nature had endowed them by meansof tweezers, deeming it no doubt wiser on the whole to pluck up thebeard by the roots than to cut it off close thereto, as indeed it was,seeing that the former process did not need regular repetition. Otherswere still busy with the turtle-egg ragout, unable, apparently to decidewhether or not appetite was satisfied. Two somewhat elderly but deeplyinterested savages whiled away the time with a game of cup-and-ball,turn and turn about, with imperturbable gravity.
This game was different from that of Europe to the extent of beingplayed on precisely opposite principles. It was not he who caught theball on the point of the sharp stick that won, but he who failed tocatch it, for failure was more difficult to achieve than success! Theexplanation is simple. The handle was a piece of pointed wood, aboutthe thickness of a ramrod, and a yard or so in length. To this, by apiece of string made from fibres of the palm, was attached the ball,which was formed of the skull of a turtle, carefully scraped. There wasno "cup" in the game. It was all point, and the great point was totouch the ball a certain number of times without catching it, a somewhatdifficult feat to accomplish owing to the dozen or more natural cavitieswith which the skull-ball was pierced, and into one of which the pointwas almost always pretty sure to enter.
At last the shades of night descended on the scene, and the Indians,laying aside ragout, tweezers, cup-and-ball, etcetera, went down to thesand-flats, and crouched, kneeled, or squatted under the leafy ajoupas.Of course their visitors accompanied them.
It was a profoundly dark night, for during the first part of it therewas no moon, and the stars, although they lent beauty and lustre to theheavens, did not shed much light upon the sands. There is a weirdsolemnity about such a scene which induces contemplative thought even inthe most frivolous, while it moves the religious mind to think moredefinitely, somehow, of the near presence of the Creator. For some timeLawrence, who crouched in profound silence beside Pedro, almost forgotthe object for which he was waiting there. The guide seemed to be in asimilarly absent mood, for he remarked at last in a low voice--
"How striking would be the contrasts presented to us constantly bynature, if we were not so thoroughly accustomed to them! Storm, andnoise, and war of elements last night,--to-night, silence, calm, andpeace! At present, darkness profound,--in half an hour or so the moonwill rise, and the sands will be like a sheet of silver. This moment,quiet repose,--a few moments hence, it may be, all will be turmoil andwildest action--that is, if the turtles come."
"True," assented Lawrence, "and we may add yet another illustration: atone moment, subjects of contemplation most sublime,--next moment,objects the most ridiculous."
He pointed as he spoke to Quashy, whose grinning teeth and glaring eyesalone were distinctly visible in the background of ebony. He wascreeping on his hands and knees, by way of rendering himself, ifpossible, less obtrusive.
"Massa," he said, in a hoarse yet apologetic whisper, "I's come to ax ifyou t'ink de turtles am comin' at all dis night."
"How can I tell, Quash, you stupid fellow? Get away to your own ajoupa,and keep quiet. I wonder the Indians haven't let fly a poisoned arrowat you. Go,--and have patience."
Poor Quashy shut his mouth and his eyes--it was as if three littlelights had gone out--while his dusky frame melted into its native gloom.
No sound was to be heard on the sand-flats after that until aboutmidnight, when the moon appeared on the horizon. Just then a sound washeard on the river.
"Here they come," whispered Pedro.
The sound increased. It was like a swirling, hissing noise. Soon theycould see by the increasing light that the water of the river seemedactually to boil. Immediately afterwards, thousands of turtles cametumbling clumsily out of the water, and spread themselves over theflats.
Evidently egg-laying was no joke with them. The well-known sluggishnessof the creatures was laid aside for this great occasion, and wonderfulactivity marked their every movement from first to last. You see, theyhad to manage the business in a wholesale sort of fashion, each turtlehaving from thirty to forty eggs, or more, to deposit in the sand,--onwhich sand, in conjunction with the sun, devolved the duty of subsequentmaternal care.
That the creatures acted on pre-arranged principles was evident from thefact that they worked in separate detachments, each working-partydevoting its energies to the digging of a trench two feet deep, fourfeet broad, and sometimes 200 yards long. Their zeal was amazing; aswell it might be, for they allowed themselves less than an hour in whichto do it all. Each animal dug like a hero with its fore-feet, and sentthe sand flying about it to such an extent that the whole flat appearedto be enveloped in a thick fog!
When satisfied that their trench was deep enough they stopped work,deposited their soft-shelled eggs, and, with their hind feet, soonfilled up the trench. So great was their eagerness and hurry, thatduring the operation more than one turtle, tumbling over her companions,rolled into the trench and was buried alive. No sooner was thestupendous work accomplished than they made a disorderly rush
for theriver, as if aware of the fate which threatened them.
And now at last came the opportunity of the savage. The Iron Duke's"Up, guards, and at 'em!" could not have been more promptly or gladlyobeyed than was the signal of the red-skinned chief. Like statues theyhad awaited it. Like catapults they responded to it, with yells ofmingled madness and joy.
But there was method in their madness. To have run between the shellyhost and the river, so as to cut off its retreat, would have been sheerlunacy, at which Luna herself--by that time shining superbly--would havepaled with horror, for the men would have certainly been overthrown andtrampled under foot by the charging squadrons. What the Indians did wasto rush upon the flanks of the host, seize the animals' tail, and hurlthem over on their backs, in which position they lay flappinghelplessly. Before the retreating "miserables" reached the river,hundreds of captives were thus obtained.
You may be sure that Lawrence and Pedro and Spotted Tiger acted theirpart well that night, and that Quashy was not long in learning hislesson!
The first tail the negro grasped slipped through his hands, so mightywas his effort, and, as a consequence, he sat down with that suddeninvoluntary flop which one associates irresistibly with nurseries.Jumping up, and rendered wise, he took a better grip next time, turnedthe turtle over, and fell on the top of it, receiving a tremendous whackon the cheek from its right flipper as a reward for his clumsiness. Butpractice makes perfect. Even in the brief space of time at hisdisposal, Quashy managed to turn ten turtles with his own hands, besidesturning himself over six times, if not more.
Rendered wild by success, and desperate with anxiety, as the fugitivesneared the river, the negro fixed his glittering eyes on a particularlyhuge turtle, which was scuttling along in almost drunken haste. With animpromptu war-howl, Quashy charged down on it, and caught it by thetail. With a heave worthy of Hercules he lifted his foe some inches offthe sand, but failed to turn it. Making a second effort, he grasped theedge of the creature's shell with his left hand, and the tail morefirmly with the right.
"Huyp!" he shouted, and made a Herculean heave. A second time he wouldhave failed, if it had not been that he was on the edge of a part of thetrench which the turtles had not had time to fill up. The weight of thecreature caused a fore-leg to break off part of the edge, and over itwent, slowly, on its side,--almost balancing thus, and flapping as itwent. To expedite the process Quashy seized it by the neck and gaveanother heave and howl. Unfortunately, the edge of the trench againgave way under one of his own feet, and he fell into it with a cry ofdistress, for the turtle fell on the top of him, crushing him down intothe soft watery sand!
Well was it for Quashy that night that Lawrence Armstrong had good ears,and was prompt to respond to the cry of distress, else had he come to anuntimely and inglorious end! Hearing the cry, Lawrence looked quicklyround, guessed the cause, shouted to Pedro, who was not far-off, and wassoon on the spot,--yet not a moment too soon, for poor Quashy was almostsquashy by that time. They dragged the turtle off, dug the negro out,and found that he had become insensible.
Raising him gently in their arms, they bore him up to the camp, wherethey found Manuela ready to minister to him.
"Dead!" exclaimed the horrified girl when she saw the negro laid down,and beheld the awful dirty-green colour of his countenance.
"I hope not," replied Lawrence, earnestly.
"I's sh---squeesh!--_sure_ not!" exclaimed Quashy himself, with asneeze, as he opened his eyes.
And Quashy, we need scarcely add, was right. He was not dead. He didnot die for many years afterwards. For aught that we know, indeed, hemay be living still, for he came of a very long-lived race.
His accident, however, had the useful effect of preventing his givingway to too exuberant felicity, and rendered him a little more careful asto the quantity of turtle-egg ragout which he consumed that night forsupper.
It would be pleasant to end our chapter here, but a regard for factscompels us to refer to the slaughter of the unfortunate turtles nextmorning.
There is in the interior of the turtle a quantity of yellow fat, whichis said to be superior in delicacy to the fat of the goose, and fromwhich is obtained a fine oil, highly prized as an article of commerce.To secure this fat, the animals which had been "turned" were killed atdaylight the following morning. The axes of the Indians caused theshells to fly in splinters; the intestines were then torn out and handedto the Indian women, whose duty it was to remove from them the preciousfat, after which the carcasses were left to the vultures andfisher-eagles, which flocked from afar to the scene of carnage with thatunerring instinct which has so often been commented on by travellers,but which no one can understand.