O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas

“I soon discovered, to my sorrow, the reason why the boa had not attacked us.

“In these dense forest lands, the wildest animals prey upon each other. Thus the boa often seizes and throttles the life out of even the puma, agile and fierce though it be. This particular boa had been watching a puma, evidently, when we came up. The brute gave me not a moment to consider, nor to finish my loading.

“I yelled in terror as I found myself seized by the shoulder. I remember no more then.

“Friday had boldly rushed to my rescue. He struck the puma over the head with his useless rifle. The beast sprang backwards fully fifteen feet, and prepared to give Friday battle, but the brave fellow was on him, knife in hand, in a moment. Friday told me afterwards that he literally flung himself on the puma. Had he missed his aim, he would never have had another chance, but deep into the monster’s very heart went the dagger, and he never moved a muscle more. Friday was unwounded.”

“And you, Ben?”

“Fearfully cut in the shoulder with the puma’s teeth, cut in the back with the talons of his fore feet, and lacerated in the stomach with his hind. They have an ugly way of cutting downwards with those talons of theirs, few who have felt it are likely to forget.”

Chapter Twelve

                “Wide-rent, the cloudsPour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquenchedTh’ unconquerable lightning straggles throughRagged and fierce, or in red whirling balls,And fires the mountains with redoubled rage.”Thomson.

My old friend Captain Roberts is quite a remarkable man in his way – yes, I might go farther and say, in many of his ways. As a pedestrian, for example, there are few young men can beat him. When he and I make up our minds to have a walk, the elements do not prevent us. We start and go through with it.

But in summer or spring weather, when the roads are not quite ankle-deep in mud, we dearly love to mount our tricycles and go for a good long spin. We like to return feeling delightfully hungry and delightfully tired; then we dine together, and after dinner, when good old Ben gets his pipe in full blast, it would indeed do your heart good to listen to him. Everything or anything suggests a yarn to Ben, or brings back to his mind some sunny memory or gloomy recollection.

One day last summer we started for a ride, for the morning looked very promising, and the roads were in splendid form. We followed the course of the Thames upwards, and about noon found ourselves enjoying our frugal luncheon near a pretty little reach of the river, one of the thousand beautiful spots by the banks of this famous old stream.

As the clouds, however, began to bank up rather suddenly in the west, and as they soon met and quite hid the sun, and as the day was still and sultry, we expected, what we soon got, a thunderstorm. Neither my friend nor I am very shy, when it comes to the push, so we ran for shelter, and just as the thunder began to roll and the raindrops to fall, we got our ’cycles comfortably housed in a farmer’s shed.

The farmer was not content, however, until he had us both indoors in his comfortable parlour. He threw the window wide open, because, he said, the glass drew the lightning; so there we sat with the thunder rattling overhead, the rain pattering on the grass and sending up delicious odours of red and white clover, while the lightning seemed to run along the ground, and mix itself up with the sparkling rain-rush in quite a wonderful way.

“Terrible thunder!” said Captain Roberts. “Terrible! puts me in mind of South America.”

The farmer looked eagerly towards him.

The farmer’s wife entered with tea, and this completed our feeling of comfort.

“You’ve got something to tell us, Ben,” I said. “There is something which that storm reminds you of. Better out with it, without much further parley.”

“Ah, well,” he said, “I suppose I must. Not that it is very much of a story; only, gentlemen, it is true. I haven’t lived long enough yet to have to invent yarns. I haven’t told half what I’ve seen and come through. But not to weary you – what delicious tea, ma’am!”

“So glad it pleases you, sir.”

“I’ve sailed around a good many coasts in my time; but I think you will find scenery more charming on the seaboard of some parts of South America than in any other country in the world. Round about Patagonia, now, what can beat the coast line for grandeur and stern beauty? Nothing that I know of.

“But farther north – on the shores of Bolivia, for instance – the scenery is just a trifle disappointing; the coast is low and sandy, and very rough in places.

“They call the ocean that laves it the Pacific. Bless my soul! friends, had you but seen it one day in the month of April, 18 – , you wouldn’t have said there was much ‘pacific’ about it. The bit of a barque I was coasting in was on a lee-shore, too, and there was nothing short of a miracle could save her. We all saw that from the first. That miracle never took place. We were carried on shore – carried in on top of a mountain wave, struck with fearful force, and broke in two in less than an hour.

“It was a wonder anybody was saved. As it was, seven of us got on shore one way or another, and there we lay battered and bruised. The sun dried one half of our clothes; then we rolled round, and he dried the other. We had tasted no food for four-and-twenty hours, for we had been battened down, and all hands had to be on deck. So when a case rolled right up to our very feet we weren’t long looking inside it, and glad enough to find some provisions in the shape of tinned soup.

“Stores floated on shore next day, and spars, and one thing and another, so we rigged a tent, and made ourselves as much at home as it was possible for shipwrecked mariners to do.

“We had been shipwrecked apparently on a most inhospitable shore. To say there wasn’t a green thing in sight would hardly be correct. Bits of scrubby bushes grew here and there in the sand, and a kind of strong rough grass also in patches; but that was all. Inland, the horizon was bounded by a chain of mountains; to the west was the ocean, calm enough now, very wide and dark and blue, with not even an island to break its monotony.

“It was a poor look-out for us, only we all agreed that it would be better to stay where we were until our wounds and bruises were somewhat healed, and until we had gathered sufficient strength to explore the country.

“We had plenty to eat and drink where we were; we could not tell how we might fare elsewhere. Only we were quite out of the way of ships, and our provisions would not last for ever.

“For the first three or four days, I may say we did nothing else but bury our dead. Sad enough employment, you must allow. But after this a breeze of wind sprang up, which during the night increased to a gale, blowing right on to the shore. When the darkness lifted, to our great joy we found our ship, or rather the pieces of her that had in a sort of way held together, floated high and dry on the beach.

“Had we wished now to become Crusoes we should have had every convenience, for we not only got provisions of all kinds out of the wreck, but boxes of stores, guns, and ammunition. For the last we were very grateful; and rough sailors though we were, we did not forget to kneel down there on the sands and thank the Giver of all good, not only for having mercifully spared us from the violence of the sea, but for giving us this earnest of future good fortune.

“The hawk scents the quarry from afar, and early next morning we were not surprised to receive a visit from some armed Indians. They rode on horses and on mules that seemed as fleet as they were sure-footed. These Indians were kind enough to express a wish, not over-politely worded, to possess samples of our various stores. We gave them to eat as much as they liked; but when they attempted to pillage the wreck, we first and foremost smilingly and persuasively hinted our disapproval of such a proceeding.

“This hint not being taken, we tried another: we levelled guns at them, and they fled.

“They came again the next day; and we made them many presents, and asked them, in broken Spanish and a deal of sign language, to conduct us safely over the mountains to the nearest Bolivian town or settlement.

“They were in all about twenty, and if they were half as bad in heart as they looked, then they were indeed scoundrels of the first water. But we numbered seven – seven bold hearts and true, and we were well armed, and able enough to drive a bargain with these fellows to our mutual advantage.

“We did so in this way: we were to have several horses and five mules, which should be laden with all our own especial baggage. They – the Indians – should have as much as they liked of the stores that remained.

“They appeared to consent to this willingly enough. So we made our packs up – taking the best of everything, of course, and whatever was of the greatest value.

“It was now well on in the afternoon, so we determined to start on our journey inland the very next morning. The Indians had still half a dozen good mules left, and they at once set about making preparations for loading them.

“There was a deal of squabbling and wrangling over the division, and more than once they seemed coming to blows.

“As soon as they had chosen all they could carry, we set about piling up the rest of the wreckage in a heap, preparatory to setting fire to it. This was absolutely necessary, for if anything was left behind it would be but a short convoy those Indians would give us. They would hide their mule packs among the mountains and hurry back for more.

“They were very much displeased, therefore, to see what we were about.

“But nothing cared we; and just as the sun dipped down into the western ocean we set fire to the immense pile.

“When darkness fell, and the flames leaped high into the air, the scene was one worthy of the brush of a Rembrandt. The sea was lit up for miles with a ruddy glare; the sands were all aglow with the blaze; the Indians and their mules thrown out in bold relief looked picturesque in the extreme, while we, the white men, armed to the teeth, and carefully watching the Indians, though not in any way to give them cause for alarm, formed a by no means insignificant portion of the scene.

“We were early astir the next day, and on the road before the sun had begun to peep down over the eastern hills.

“We marched in single file, an old grey-bearded Indian leading the van as our guide.

“Before many hours we had left the sandy hills along the seashore, and had entered the mountain defiles.

“Scenery more rugged, wild, and beautiful I had seldom clapped eyes upon, either before or since. At the same time we could not help feeling thankful that we had obtained the guidance of these Indians, treacherous though they no doubt were, for we never could have made our way otherwise across this range of rugged mountains, nor through the wild entanglement of forest.

“By day many a wild beast crossed our pathway, but only seldom we shot them, and we never followed far; we were shipwrecked sailors trying to make our way to some semi-civilised town, where we could live in some degree of safety until we found out the lay of the land, as our mate called it, and fell in at last with some British ship.

“These fellows, our guides, could tell us nothing, but they led us day after day towards the east and the north.

“We kept a strict watch over their every movement, and it was well we did so. At night we bivouacked but a little distance from their camp, and had separate fires and separate sentries.

“Almost every evening after supper they made themselves madly drunk with the wine they had received from us, and without which they would have refused to guide us at all.

“After four days’ wandering we arrived, during a pitiless storm of thunder and rain, at a strange and semi-barbarian village. The houses or huts were built upon piles, and the inhabited portion of them stood high above the ground; you had to ascend to this on a sort of hen’s ladder.

“The street itself at the time we entered the town was more like a river than anything else. But we were glad enough to find shelter of any kind, drenched to the skin as we were, and wet and weary as well.

“Next day was bright and clear again, and it seemed to me that every one of the villagers turned out to see us start. They appeared to be peaceable enough, so we made little presents to the women, and advised our Indian guides to do the same. They were not inclined to part with anything, however, and evidently looked upon us as fools for what we did.

“Our march that day was across vast plains and swamps towards another mountain-chain, more rugged and grand than any we had yet seen.

“We chatted pleasantly and sang as we rode on, for the Indians assured us that in two days more we should arrive at a very large and populous city, where plenty of rich white men lived, with splendid houses, broad paved streets, hotels, and even palaces. We bivouacked that night at the very foot of the chain of mountains, and next morning entered and rode through gloomy glens and dark woods, and the farther we rode the wilder the country seemed to become. Yet some of the woodland scenes were inexpressibly lovely. We came out at last on the brow of a hill, just as the sun was setting over the distant forest, and bathing with its golden glory a scene as lovely as it was sad and melancholy.

“A vast plain in the centre of an amphitheatre of hills, clad almost to their summits with lofty trees, a broad river meandering through this plain, and on both banks thereof what appeared from where we stood to be a city of palaces. Alas! on entering it we found it a city of ruins. Trees and shrubs grew where the streets had been, the gardens had degenerated into jungles; we saw wild beasts hiding behind the mouldering walls, and heard them growl as we passed; and we saw monster snakes and lizards wriggling hither and thither, and these were the only inhabitants of this once large and populous town.

“Yet in the halls of its palaces the banquet had once been spread, and gaiety, mirth, and music had resounded in its streets and thoroughfares, till war came with murder and pestilence, and then all was changed. The city’s best sons were sent to work in mines, or slain; the city’s fairest daughters marched away in chains to become the slaves of their terrible foes.

“I could not help thinking of all this as I rode through this ruined city of the plain, and sighed as I did so. The words and music of the sad old song came into my mind:

“‘So sinks the pride of former days    When glory’s thrill is o’er.And hearts that once beat high with praise    Now feel that pulse no more.’

“But the sun set and night came on, and with it storm and darkness.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak.Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear.”Byron.

My friend Ben paused for a moment.

A sheet of lightning almost blinded us. It was followed instantaneously by one of the most terrific peals of thunder I have ever heard in this country.

“It was in just such a storm as this,” said Captain Roberts, “that we took shelter in the ruins of an old fort. We tethered our mules outside, and we had not even the heart to keep the Indians from sharing our quarters. For once, and it was the last time, we ate with them, drank with them, and talked to them. How little we suspected them of treachery!

“We found plenty of dry wood in the old fort and soon had a roaring fire with which to warm up our soup and cook our vegetables.

“‘Who goes sentry to-night?’ I said to the mate.

“‘Well,’ replied the mate, ‘I guess we’d better draw for it. He’ll have a wet skin whoever does it.’

“It was just after dinner when this conversation took place.

“‘But,’ continued the mate, stretching himself before the fire, ‘I expect it will be between you and me, for, look, the other fellows have all gone to sleep, and I feel so drowsy I really – don’t – know – how long – ’

“He said no more; he was asleep.

“‘Poor fellows,’ I said to myself, as I took up my gun and prepared to leave 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 in sheets; the thunder seemed to rend the old fort and shake it to its very foundation, while the lightning was everywhere; the whole world looked as if on fire. Night was coming on, and rude though our shelter was, I felt thankful we were not out in the gloom of the forest.

“‘How soundly they sleep!’ I said to myself about half an hour after when I went to heap more wood on the five. ‘How I envy them! I’ll sit a moment and think. The Indians are not so bad as they look. First impressions 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 seeming to 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 the fire-light; but I was unable to stir hand or foot; I felt like one in some dreadful nightmare. I tried to shriek, but my voice failed me. Then, ‘O God, be merciful to us!’ I inwardly prayed, ‘for our hour is come.’

“Two Indians advanced, knives in hand, towards the mate. One pulled his head back, the other had his arm uplifted to strike, when suddenly he sprang back appalled.

“Was it sent as in answer to my prayer? I know not; yet I firmly believe nothing happens by chance. The electric fluid had entered by the roof, shattering the masonry and scattering the fire. It gleamed on the uplifted knife of the would-be assassin; he dropped it, and with arm paralysed and hanging by his side fled shrieking from the building. The others uttered exclamations of terror and surprise, and quickly followed the first.

“I remember no more then. Daylight was shimmering in through the broken roof of the building, and the fire had long gone out, when I awoke shivering, and started to my feet.

“Almost at the same moment the mate jumped up. He was the first to speak.

“‘We have been drugged,’ he cried, pressing his hand to his aching head.

“‘Drugged?’ I answered. ‘Yes, fools that we were to trust those scoundrels; we’ve been drugged, and, doubtless, robbed.’

“The mate looked very pale and ghastly in the early light of the morning; probably I myself looked little better. My surmise was right: the Indians had gone. They had taken all our goods and our pack-mules with them, and driven away the spare animals. Thank goodness, they had left us our arms and ammunition.

“Not even on the morning after the shipwreck did we poor fellows feel so miserable as we did now, seated round a meagre meal of bananas and gourds.

“But we were intent on regaining our goods.

“Clever though these Indians might be if alone and unencumbered, they could hardly go fast, nor far at a time, through forest and jungle with horses and laden mules. Nor could they go anywhere without leaving a trail 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 our ears that caused us to pause and listen. It was soon repeated – the neighing 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 mules besides. The poor brutes were quietly browsing on the herbage and the tender leaves of young palm-trees, but were evidently delighted to see us.

“We went on now with more comfort, and had good hope of speedily coming up with the pillaging Indians, of whom we never doubted we could give a good account.

“Somewhat to our surprise we found they were taking a westerly direction, instead of going east and by north, as they had been leading us. They were either then bent upon returning to their own village, or making 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 our being able to come up with them before they were reinforced by members of their own tribe. This thought made us redouble our exertions. But we were weak for want of food and from the effects of the drug that had been administered to us on the previous evening, so that our progress was not so great as we wished it to be.

“The trail continued all day to lead us through the jungle; but before sunset we found ourselves out in the open, on the brow of a hill that overlooked a vast, almost treeless, swamp. It was bounded on the further horizon by a chain of mountains – spurs, no doubt, of the ubiquitous Andes. Away to the left, and just under the hills, we could see 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 plan for attacking the Indians.

“We stirred not then till long past nine o’clock, when the moon rose and flooded all the landscape. Then we took to the swamp. It was a terrible ride: at times our horses floundered in the quagmires, at other times they had to swim, to our imminent danger of being devoured by the huge alligators with which the place seemed to swarm. We startled the birds from their beds in the reeds, the wild beasts from their lairs in the patches of jungle, and herds of fleet-footed creatures fled, bounding away towards the forest at sight of us. It was a dangerous ride. But we cared for nothing now; it was life or death with us. We must reach the camp of the Indians, conquer them, or die in the attempt.

“All night we rode, struggling and fighting against fearful odds; but at five o’clock in the morning, or about one hour before sunrise, we left the plain and entered the forest, determined to take our foes by surprise. The ride through the tangled forest, without any pathway save that made by the beasts, was one of extreme difficulty. But we were free at last; and tethering our horses, we prepared for the attack. We could see the Indians on a small plateau not three hundred yards beneath us, asleep by their smouldering fires. But we were on the brow of a hill, they much nearer the plain; beneath was a precipice, overhung with trailing shrubs and creepers, fully five hundred feet in depth, which it was impossible to descend without risk of being seen.

“The place the Indians had chosen for a camping-ground was fortified by nature. Probably that is the reason they had not troubled to set a sentry. We saw our advantage at once; it was to make a détour, gain the level of the plain, then creep up the hill upon them, attacking both in flank and rear.

“We carried out our plans most successfully. Few but sailors could have climbed up the rocks which led to the plateau. So steep were they that in some places the loosening of a stone or one false step might mean death.

“Just as we were at the very brink of this precipice, and within twenty yards of where the enemy lay, a bough snapped with a loud report, and next moment they were all up and on the alert.

“There was no need for further concealment; we speedily showed ourselves, poured a volley into their bewildered ranks, and before they could 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, and the few who remained alive ran shrieking away towards the rocks. We cared but little how they fared.

“Our mate and another man were wounded, but not severely, and in two days’ time we were able to resume our journey.

“Providence was kind to us. We came upon a broad old war-road that led through the forest and jungles and plains towards the setting sun, and in one week more we were overjoyed to find ourselves standing on a hill-side overlooking a verdant plain, with a river and a town, and beyond 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 the first rays of the returning sun, were not more joyful than we were now. We laughed and shouted, and I believe the tears rolled down over our cheeks.

“But we did not forget to kneel down there, and, with our faces on the ground, thank in silence the kind Father who had led us through so many troubles and dangers. And now, Nie, the storm is gone. We must thank these good people for their kind hospitality, and start.”