On the Banks of the Amazon Part 16

We had, as may be supposed, to paddle carefully to prevent running against a bough or sunken trunk, as the least touch might have upset our frail craft. Though we might easily have scrambled out, yet we should have run the risk of losing our guns and wetting our ammunition; besides which, an alligator might have been lurking near, and seized one of us in its jaws before we could escape to land. These considerations made us very careful in our navigation. After some time, we began to feel sadly cramped from being unable to move. Oria sat quiet and silent, close to her brother, somewhat surprised, I dare say, at finding herself carried away by the three white strangers. John told us to keep our tongues steady in the middle of our mouths, lest we should make the canoe heel over; and, indeed, if we leant ever so slightly on one side the water began to ripple over the gunwale. Duppo steered very carefully; and I, having the bow paddle, kept a very bright look-out ahead for any danger which might appear under water. I could not help thinking of the big cow-fish we had seen, and dreading lest one of them coming up the igarape might give the canoe an unintentional shove with his snout, which would most inevitably have upset her.

Thus we went on. The lagoon was pa.s.sed, and again we entered the channel with the thick trees arching overhead. How cool and pleasant was the shade after the heat of the sun to which we had been exposed in the more open parts! As we approached the camp our anxiety to ascertain that all was well increased. The nearer we got the more I longed to see the smiling face of our dear little sister, and I thought of the pleasure she would have when we introduced Oria to her. At length we could see in the far distance the landing-place near the camp. In our eagerness we forgot our caution, and very nearly sent the canoe under water. "Be more careful, boys," cried John, though he was paddling as hard as either of us. As we drew near I looked out for the raft at the spot we had left her moored, but could not see her. An uncomfortable misgiving came over me, yet I could not bear to think that any accident had happened. I said nothing, and on we went.

"Why, where is the raft?" exclaimed John.

"Oh, perhaps Domingos has drawn her up on the bank," observed Arthur.

"That is more than he would have strength to do," said John. "Besides, I can see the bank, and the raft is not there."

As we drew near we raised a shout to attract Domingos, True joining us with one of his cheerful barks. No one answered.

"Domingos has probably gone out shooting," observed Arthur. "We shall see your sister and Maria running down directly."

We looked eagerly towards the camp, but neither Ellen nor Maria appeared. We at length clambered out of the canoe up the bank, leaving Duppo to help out his sister, and on we ran, breathless with anxiety, to ascertain what had happened. The huts stood as we had left them, but the occupants were not there. We looked about. The goods had been carried off. Had the Indians been there--or had Ellen and her attendants fled? These were the fearful questions we asked ourselves.

If the Indians had come, where had they carried our sister, and what had they done with her? We searched around in every direction. No signs of violence were to be discovered. Yet, unless the Indians had come, why should they have fled. The savage Majeronas would certainly have burned down the huts. True was running about as surprised as we were to find no one there. Now he ran into Ellen's hut, then searched about in the surrounding wood, and came back to us, as if he could not make up his mind what had happened. Duppo and Oria now arrived, having waited at the bank to secure the canoe. We tried to make Duppo understand that we wanted to know his opinion. Though very intelligent for an Indian, we could seldom judge his thoughts by the expression of his countenance.

At last he comprehended us, but made no reply. After waiting an instant, he went into Ellen's hut, and then, as True had done, examined the surrounding thickets. At last he came back and had a talk with Oria. They seemed to have arrived at some conclusion. We watched them anxiously. Then we asked Duppo if the Majeronas had been there. He shook his head, and then, taking my hand, led me back to the water, narrowly examining the ground as he went. On reaching the igarape he pointed down towards the great river. I understood him.

"John! Arthur!" I shouted out, "they have gone that way on the raft.

I am sure of it from Duppo's signs. Perhaps they have not got to any great distance, and we may overtake them."

"Stay," said John; "perhaps they are hiding somewhere near. We will shout out, and they may hear us."

"There is no use in doing that," I remarked. "Had the raft still been here I might have thought so, but it is evident that they have gone away on it. It would easily carry them and all our goods, and for some reason or other Domingos has persuaded them to escape on it, hoping that we should follow."

"Would not Ellen have left a note for us, or some sign, to show us where they have gone to," observed John in a desponding tone. "That she has not done so puzzles me more than anything else."

To satisfy John, we all shouted at the top of our voices again and again; but no reply came. We were going to get into the canoe, when Duppo showed us that we might prepare it with a little contrivance for encountering the rougher water of the river. Some sipos were near.

These he cut down, and with Oria's a.s.sistance bound into two long bundles, which he neatly secured to the gunwale of the canoe, completely round her. By this means the sides were raised four or five inches, and would thus, I saw, greatly a.s.sist to keep out the water, and at the same time would enable her to float, even should she be partly filled. Duppo now beckoned to us to get into her. We took our seats as before, and once more we paddled down the igarape. Duppo's contrivance completely kept out the water, which would otherwise have broken on board; and we had no longer any fear of driving the canoe as fast as we could through it. We soon reached the open river.

"Which way shall we turn--up or down the stream?" I asked.

"Down, certainly," said John; "the raft could not have gone up it."

We accordingly made signs to Duppo to turn the canoe's head towards the east. Before us appeared the island on which we so narrowly escaped being wrecked during the hurricane. We steered down near the mainland, examining narrowly the sh.o.r.es on either side. No raft could we see, nor any one on the land. The water was smooth in the channel through which we were pa.s.sing, but when we got to the end of it, we found the surface rippled over with waves, which, although small, threatened to be dangerous to our deeply-laden little craft. I proposed that we should, notwithstanding, endeavour to paddle up along the other side of the island, in case Ellen and her companions might have landed on it. We made signs to Duppo to steer in that direction; but he, instead of doing so, pointed to a spot some way down the river, signifying to as that he wished to land there. We concluded that it was the place where his father had appointed to meet him. "Perhaps he sees the raft; it may have drifted there," exclaimed Arthur. "At all events, I am sure it will be better to do as he proposes."

We accordingly paddled on under Duppo's pilotage. Now that we were exposed to the breeze blowing across the river, our heavily-laden canoe could with difficulty contend with the waves, which, in spite of the raised gunwale, every now and then broke into her. Had it not been for the young Indian's thoughtful contrivance, we should inevitably have been swamped. After going on for some distance, we reached the mouth of another igarape. Just outside it, facing the river, was a small open s.p.a.ce, free of trees, with a fringe of rushes growing between it and the water. With some little difficulty we forced the canoe through the rushes, and we then, by scrambling up the bank, reached the spot I have described. Duppo made signs to us that it was here he wished to remain for the arrival of his father.

"We may as well do as he proposes then," said John, "and we will set off and look for the raft. If we do not find it--which Heaven forbid!--we will return and obtain the a.s.sistance of the Indians in making a more extended search."

The spot was a very beautiful one, open entirely to the river in front, while the trees behind, not growing so closely together as usual, allowed the air to circulate--a very important consideration in that hot climate. "It is just the place I should have chosen for an encampment while we are searching for our father," said John. Arthur and I agreed with him; but as we were eager to be off again, we had no time to talk about the matter. Landing the greater part of the provisions, we explained our intentions to our young friends. They understood us, but seemed unwilling to be left behind. John also proposed that Arthur should remain on sh.o.r.e. "I will do as you wish," he answered; "but I do not like to be separated from you." While we were speaking, standing on the bank, looking out over the river, he exclaimed, "See, see! what is that speck out there towards the other side?" We eagerly looked in the direction he pointed.

"I am afraid it is only the trunk of a tree, or a ma.s.s of gra.s.s floating down," said John.

"Oh no, no! I am nearly sure there are people on it!" cried Arthur, whose eyes, as we had found, were keener than ours.

"At all events, we will go towards it," cried John.

We hurried down and slipped into the canoe. "Yes; I know that you may go faster without me," said Arthur. "You know what I should like to do; but if it is better, I will remain on sh.o.r.e."

We thanked him for his self-denial, and I was about to propose leaving True with him, when the dog settled the point by jumping in. John and I shoved off, and paddled on with all our might. Now that we had fewer people on board, we made much better way than before, and floated buoyantly over the mimic seas which met us. We had marked the direction of the object we had seen. From the water it was at first scarcely visible. As we went on we again caught sight of it. How anxiously we watched it! One moment I thought it must be the raft, the next I was afraid it was but the trunk of a tree, or a flat island of gra.s.s. How I longed for a spy-gla.s.s to settle the point, but unfortunately we possessed none. For some minutes neither John nor I spoke.

"Harry!" he exclaimed, at length, "I see some one waving. Yes, yes; I am sure it is the raft!"

I strained my eyes to the utmost. I too thought I saw people on the object ahead of us. If people they were, they were sitting down though.

"Probably Domingos is afraid of standing up," said John. Then I remarked this to him. "I am glad the wind is across the river instead of up it, or it would be fearfully dangerous for them."

"Then you do think it is the raft?" I asked.

"I am sure of it," answered John.

We redoubled our efforts. Every instant the object grew clearer and clearer. We could scarcely be deceived.

"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed John; "I see Ellen and Maria, one on each side, and Domingos working away with his paddle at one end. They are trying to come towards us."

I saw them too, and could even make out Nimble, and Toby, and Poll, and Niger. My heart leaped with joy. In a few minutes more we were up to the raft.

"We will not stop to ask questions," exclaimed John, as we got alongside. "Here, Maria; hand me your painter, and we will secure it to ours, and tow you back to the north bank. You must tell us what has happened as we go along."

"Oh, but Arthur! why is Arthur not with you? Has anything happened to him?" exclaimed Ellen.

"No; he is all right," answered John, pointing to the sh.o.r.e.

While he was speaking, we transferred our painter to the stern of the canoe, and secured it as a tow-rope to the raft. We put the canoe's head the way we wished to go, and paddled on. The wind was in our favour; and Domingos, with Ellen and Maria, worked away with their paddles also on the raft. We were exerting ourselves too much to speak.

Our dear sister was safe; but yet it was somewhat difficult to restrain our curiosity to know what had occurred. The wind was increasing every moment; and as we neared the sh.o.r.e we saw that there might be some danger of the water was.h.i.+ng over the raft should we attempt to land under the bank. I proposed, therefore, that we should steer for the igarape. It was no easy matter, however, to get there, as the current was carrying us down. Domingos tried to urge the raft in the direction we wished to go. The wind continued to increase, and the current swept us further and further to the east. The seas rising, tossed the raft, now on the one side, now on the other; and every moment I dreaded that those on it might be thrown off or washed away. We entreated them to hold on tightly. Even the canoe, though before the wind, was tossed considerably. We could now distinguish our friends on sh.o.r.e watching us anxiously as we approached. Already we had drifted down below them.

They were trying to make their way through the forest to follow us.

"We must drift down till we can see some place where we can get on sh.o.r.e with a prospect of safety," observed John.

I agreed with him that it was our only alternative; yet I knew that sometimes for miles together along the banks such a place might not be found. We turned the head of the canoe, however, down the stream, anxiously looking out for a fit spot to land. I dreaded, as I cast a look over my shoulder at the sky, that such a hurricane as we had before encountered was brewing; and if so, our prospect of being saved was small indeed. I saw that Domingos also was casting a glance back at the sky. We could see the tall trees on sh.o.r.e bending before the blast.

Every moment our position became more and more perilous. If landing in the daylight was difficult, it would be still more so to get on sh.o.r.e in the dark.

Down the mighty river we floated. The last rays of the sun came horizontally over the waters, tinging the mimic waves with a bright orange hue. Then gradually they a.s.sumed a dull, leaden tint, and the topmost boughs of the more lofty trees alone caught the departing light.

Still no harbour of refuge appeared. I proposed running in, as the last desperate resource, and scrambling on sh.o.r.e while we could still see sufficiently to find our way.

"We shall lose our goods, and the canoe, and the raft, if we make the attempt," answered John, "and perhaps our lives. We must still try to find a safe place to land at."

We were yet at some distance from the sh.o.r.e, though, driven by the fierce wind, we were rapidly approaching it. The storm increased. Dark clouds were gathering overhead. A bright flash of lightning darted from them, crackling and hissing as it went along the water: another, and another followed. Suddenly, as if a thick mantle had been thrown over us, it became dark, and we could scarcely have distinguished an opening in the forest had one been before us. John was more unwilling than ever to risk landing; and we therefore steered down the river, parallel with the sh.o.r.e, so as to prevent the raft as long as possible from being driven against it.

"Paddle on, Harry!" cried John, with his usual coolness; "we may yet find a harbour of refuge."

We could judge pretty well, by the varying outline of the leafy wall close to us, that we were making rapid way. The wind, too, had s.h.i.+fted more to the west, and drove us therefore still before it. Arthur and our Indian friends would, I knew, be in despair at not seeing us land; while it was certain that they could not keep pace with the raft, as they had to make their way through the tangled forest. Now that darkness had come on, they would probably be compelled to stop altogether.

The wind blew harder. The raft was tossed fearfully about. Another rattling peal of thunder and more vivid flashes of lightning burst from the clouds. Maria shrieked out with terror; while the two monkeys clung to her, their teeth chattering--as alarmed as she was, Ellen afterwards told me. Then again all was silent.

"I am afraid, Harry, we must make the attempt," said John at last. "But the risk is a fearful one. We must tell Ellen, Domingos, and Maria to be prepared.--Be ready, dear Ellen!" cried John. "Hold on tightly; and when I call to you, spring towards me. We must manage by some means to get on sh.o.r.e. Domingos will help Maria. Harry will try to secure the guns and ammunition; our existence may depend upon them. The animals must take care of themselves.--Domingos, are you ready?" he asked, in Spanish.

"Si, si, Senor John. But look there, master; what is that light on sh.o.r.e? It must come from some hut surely, where we may obtain shelter.

Let us try to reach the place. Even if there are savages there, they will not refuse to help us."