On the Banks of the Amazon Part 31

We saw the canoe at a little distance, the Indians standing ready, some with their harpoons and others with their bows, to strike any fish which might be pa.s.sing. Now they came nearer to us, and I saw they had struck several fish. With these they returned to the sh.o.r.e, and called to me to come and receive them. Tono then made signs that he would go and get some more, and again they paddled off. I became quite vexed at having entertained unjust suspicions of them. After they had got to a little distance, I saw them strike another fish--evidently a large one, by the time they took to haul it in. Now they went further and further off.

At length I lost sight of them.

John had in the meantime gone into the woods with his gun. He returned, just as it was growing dusk, with a couple of birds, which he immediately plucked and prepared for roasting at the fire which I had made up. Our pot for boiling fish had been left in the canoe. We could, therefore, only roast a portion of those just caught by the Indians.

"They ought to be back by this time," observed John, as the shades of night fell over the river.

"The fish seemed to be plentiful, and probably they have been tempted to go further off than they proposed," I observed.

Still we waited and waited, and they did not return. John went a little way along the bank, and shouted loudly; but no answer came to his hail.

At length we hung up our hammocks; and having attended to Arthur, added fuel to our fire, and placed True at the entrance of our hut to watch, we lay down to rest. Still, neither John nor I felt much inclined to sleep.

"I am afraid that Tono and his people, after all, have gone off in the canoe," I said at last.

"I suspect so too," he answered; "but yet they were behaving so well, that I did not think they would play us so treacherous a trick."

"We shall soon see, however. I cannot help expecting to hear them return every moment."

We waited and waited, anxiety keeping us awake. Several times I got up to give Arthur a little water, which was all he appeared inclined to take. He was much less feverish than I expected. Towards morning, however, he began to ramble in his speech, and talked about his mother and father, and a young sister who had died. "I thought I should find him," I heard him say. "Oh, that my mother could have lived to have seen him again! Oh, that I could once more be with him! If he were here now, I am sure that I should soon get well." These words were said at intervals, between other less coherent remarks.

Daylight broke before I had closed my eyes. We again looked out, in the faint hope that the Indians might have landed at some spot near us, and encamped for the night; but we could nowhere see them. We were at length convinced that they had made off with our canoe, and deserted us.

Had we been by ourselves, our position would have been bad enough; but with poor Arthur in his wounded state, requiring immediate help, it was still worse. The Indians had so long behaved well and faithfully, that we had not supposed them capable of such conduct, although they had showed such discontent on the previous day.

"What must we do?" I asked of John.

"We must either build a canoe or a raft, or wait till we can hail some pa.s.sing craft, and get taken off," he answered. "Our father will certainly send and look for us by-and-by, when he finds that we do not return; but in the meantime they will all be very anxious, and think that we have been cut off by the rebels."

John and I had fortunately brought our guns and ammunition; so that we were better off than we might have been had the Indians overpowered us, and put us on sh.o.r.e by force. We were, indeed, able to supply ourselves amply with food, but it was not well suited for Arthur. By the end of the day he appeared to have grown worse instead of better. I sat up with him part of the night, forgetting how little sleep I had had for some time. He rambled more than ever. It was painful sometimes to hear him. When he at last dropped to sleep, I began to doze also, till I slipped off my seat, and lay utterly overcome with fatigue on the ground. It was daylight, and I found John lifting me up. I had never seen him look so anxious.

"I thought you had swooned, Harry," he said; "and poor Arthur seems no better. What can we do for him?"

I looked at Arthur. He was in a troubled sleep, was very pale, and uttering incoherent expressions. I would have given anything to have known what to do; but except moistening his lips with water, there was nothing I could think of likely to benefit him. All day long he remained in that state. I sat by his side, while John occasionally went out with his gun. He was never long absent, as he said he could not bear the thought of being away from Arthur, fearing he might be worse.

Now and then I got up and added fresh fuel to our fire, that I might make some broth with some of the game John had brought in; thinking that might possibly do good to my poor patient. I was thus employed, when I heard John shout out. Taking a glance at Arthur, I ran forward, when I caught sight of John near the bank, waving his hat, while just beyond him was a montaria, with a number of people in her, among whom I distinguished the tall figure of the recluse standing up and waving in return. The canoe approached the bank just as I reached it; and directly afterwards two other persons jumped up and waved to us, while a dog put his paws on the gunwale and uttered a loud bark. True, who had followed me, barked in return. What was my joy to recognise my two old school-fellows Houlston and Tony. In a couple of minutes they were on sh.o.r.e, and we were warmly shaking hands; while True and Faithful were rubbing noses with equal cordiality.

"Where is my boy?" exclaimed the recluse--or rather Mr Mallet, for so I should properly call him.

"He is with us. He has been sadly hurt. If any one can do him good, I am sure you can, sir," I said.

"Oh, take me to him--show me where he is!" exclaimed Mr Mallet, in an anxious tone. "Hand me out that box there! It contains the few medicines I possess--it may be of use."

"Is it Arthur Mallet he is speaking of?" asked Houlston, following with the chest. "What is the matter with him?"

I told him briefly what had occurred. There were several other persons in the canoe, but I was too much interested in my friends to observe them. We hurried back to the hut where Arthur was lying. The recluse had hastened on before us, and was now kneeling by the side of his young son. He was perfectly calm, but I saw how much he felt, by the expression of his anxious countenance. Arthur opened his eyes and recognised his father.

"This is what I was praying for," he whispered. "I have been very ill, and was afraid of leaving the world without once again seeing you. I am so thankful. If it is G.o.d's will, I am now ready to die."

"Oh, but I pray it may not be his will, my boy," said Mr Mallet. "You must live for my sake, to be a comfort and support to me."

"You will not go back, then, and live in the woods by yourself, my dear father?" said Arthur.

"No; I hope to live wherever you do, my boy," he answered.

Arthur's pale countenance brightened, and he pressed his father's hand.

"You must not talk, however, Arthur," said Mr Mallet. "You require rest, and I may find some remedies which may benefit you."

He eagerly looked over the contents of his medicine-chest; and desiring to have some fresh-water brought him, he quickly compounded a draught, which he gave to Arthur. We left the father and son together, while we returned to the canoe. On our way Houlston and Tony recounted to me briefly what had occurred. They had made their way nearly up to the mouth of the Napo, when, not finding us, they had determined to visit every spot on the sh.o.r.e where we were likely to have stopped. They had at length put into the creek, near the abode of the recluse.

"Much to our surprise," said Houlston, "we were accosted in English by a tall white man. On telling him our errand, he informed us that you had long since gone down the stream, and seemed very much surprised and grieved to find that we had not encountered you. He at once volunteered to accompany us, saying that he was greatly interested in your welfare, and could not rest satisfied without a.s.sisting in our search for you.

We were, of course, very glad to have his company; and going back to his hut, he soon returned with two Indians--a man and his wife--who also wished to come with us. They are there," and Houlston pointed to the canoe.

Just then one of the Indians landed; and though dressed in a s.h.i.+rt and trousers, I recognised him as our friend Maono. He was followed by Illora, also habited in more civilised costume than when we had at first seen her. They greeted me kindly, and inquired, with more warmth than Indians generally exhibit, for their son and daughter. I a.s.sured them of their welfare, and of the esteem in which they were held by my family. They appeared to be gratified, and then inquired for the Indians who had accompanied us. Maono was excessively indignant when we told him of the trick they had played us, and threatened to put them to death when he got back to his people. We entreated him, however, for our sakes, not to punish them so severely; indeed, we told him we would rather he pardoned them altogether, as they had been influenced by a desire to return to their people, and perhaps supposed that we might prevent them from so doing. They had till that moment been faithful and obedient, and we a.s.sured him that we had had no cause to complain of them.

Some time was spent in talking to Tony and Houlston. On our return to the hut we found Mr Mallet standing in front of it. He said Arthur was improving, but begged that we would remain where we were, as he was unwilling to move him at present. We of course willingly agreed to do what he wished, and forthwith set to work to put up huts for the time we might have to remain on the island. We gave up our hut to Mr Mallet and Arthur, and made a large fire in front of it, while we had another, at which we cooked our suppers. Not for a moment, I believe, did the recluse close his eyes during that night, though most of our party slept soundly. Whenever I awoke I saw him moving to and fro. Once I could not help getting out of my hammock and asking him whether Arthur was improving. "I trust he may be," was the answer. "I shall know to-morrow."

In the morning Arthur certainly appeared better, his wounds having been dressed by the skilful hands of his father. Arthur's state, however, was still too precarious to allow of his removal without risk. Anxious as we were to get back to our friends, we remained, therefore, three days longer on the island. Occasionally John, Houlston, Tony, and I made excursions to the mainland, finding it inhabited, to shoot; while Maono and Illora were very successful in their fis.h.i.+ng expeditions.

"Oh, I wish Arthur was well!" exclaimed Tony. "This is just the sort of fun we were looking forward to; and I say, Harry, I hope it is only the beginning of our adventures. Our employers, I know, will very gladly send us up the river to purchase produce, and I dare say you can make arrangements to come with us."

I of course said I should be very glad to do so, though I could not then say what my father intended to do after reaching Para.

We shot a good deal of game--quadruped, four-handed, and feathered.

Among the latter, by-the-by, was a curious bird, which we found feeding on the marshy banks of a lake, to which we made our way, attracted by its loud and peculiar cry. Creeping on, we caught sight of it as it stood on the sh.o.r.e. Houlston, who first saw it, declared that it was a large crane. It was about the size of a swan, and getting nearer, I saw that it had an extraordinary horn on the top of its head, surrounded by black and white feathers, while the upper part of its wings had two sharp horns projecting from them--formidable weapons of attack or defence. Houlston fired, but missed. He had not improved as a sportsman since we parted. John at that moment came up, and sent a ball into the bird's neck. On this True and Faithful dashed forward, but still the bird, though unable to run, showed fight with its wings and kept them at bay. It soon, however, sunk down lifeless on the ground.

Its plumage was very handsome. The head and neck were of a greenish-brown colour, covered with soft feathers. The breast and thighs were of silvery white, and the back was black, with the exception of the upper part, which was brown, with yellow spots. It was, we found, the anhima of the Brazils, known also as the horned kamichi, or, more learnedly, _Palamedea_. It is sometimes called the horned screamer, from its loud and wild cry. We laughingly told Houlston that, as he had missed it, he should have the honour of carrying it; which he very good-naturedly did, though it was a considerable load to bear through the forest.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

CONCLUSION.

Next morning Mr Mallet gave us the satisfactory intelligence that Arthur was sufficiently well to bear moving. We therefore at once proceeded on our voyage. Each day after that he improved; and at length we came in sight of the island where we had left our family. We had some, difficulty in finding our way up the narrow channel which led to their camp. As we approached the spot, we saw a good-sized vessel on the stocks, surrounded by a number of persons. One of them, discovering us as we turned the point, shouted to his companions, when, suddenly leaving their work, they advanced towards us with guns in their hands in a threatening att.i.tude. We shouted out to them, when they, perceiving that we were friends, came forward to meet us. Our father was among the first we saw. After he had received us affectionately, and warmly greeted Houlston and Tony, we told him that Mr Mallet had come with us.

No sooner did my father see him, than, taking his hand, he exclaimed, "What, my old friend and school-fellow! I little expected to find you out here! Where have you come from?"

"From the wilderness, where I have spent long years of banishment, and from whence my young son succeeded in thus too far dragging me forth. I could not make him lead the life I have so long lived, and I cannot bear the thought of parting from him."

"And what could make you wish to think of doing anything of the sort?"

exclaimed my father. "You surprised all your friends by leaving England--so my brother long since wrote me word--and no one has been able to account for it."

"Not account for it!" exclaimed Mr Mallet. "Surely my friends would not have wished me to remain, dishonoured or disgraced, or doomed to a felon's death?"

He looked round as he spoke, and seeing that I was nearer than he had supposed, led my father to a distance. Meantime our mother, f.a.n.n.y, and Ellen, had come down.

I need not describe our meeting, or the concern Ellen exhibited at hearing of Arthur's accident, and saw his still, pale face as we lifted him out of the canoe. He was, however, able to walk with our a.s.sistance. We found the whole party very anxious, as information had reached them that the natives had discovered their retreat and intended attacking them. They had therefore been hurrying on the large montaria with all speed, in hopes of getting away before the arrival of the enemy.

In a short time our father and Mr Mallet arrived. A wonderful change had taken place in the countenance of the latter. He now looked bright and cheerful, and a smile played over his features such as I had never before seen them wear. After being introduced to my mother and sisters, and Senhor Pimento's family, he hurried up to Arthur, and as he threw his arms round his neck tears burst from his eyes, but they were evidently tears of joy.

"But we must not lose time," said my father, pointing to the vessel, at which Domingos and Antonio and the other men were still busily working.

We soon had occupation given us--ample to employ our minds as well as our hands. Arthur was taken good care of by my mother and sisters, and I was glad to see him play with Nimble and Toby, who at once knew him.

We worked away till dark. The fires were lighted, and by their bright blaze we were still able to continue our labours. Thus we hoped in a couple of days to have our craft ready for launching. It was decked over astern and forward, so as to afford a cabin to the ladies and shelter for our stores, which required protection from the weather. We had large mat-sails and long oars, so that she was well fitted, we hoped, to encounter the heavy seas we were likely to meet with towards the mouth of the mighty river. John suggested that we should erect a stockade near the vessel, behind which we might defend ourselves, and prevent her from being burned, should the rebels make the threatened attack. This we all set to work to do; and as we had an abundance of materials at hand, a fort was soon erected, of sufficient strength, if defended by firearms, to repel any attack the natives were likely to make against it.