The Forest Exiles Part 9

At length Guapo was seen to desist, and walk boldly out from his ambush.

To the surprise of all, the remaining macaws, of which there were still six or seven upon the tree, showed no fear of him, nor did they attempt to fly away! This was explained, however, by their subsequent conduct; for in a few seconds more they were seen, one by one, falling to the ground, until not a single bird was left upon the tree. All of them had been killed by the arrows of the blow-gun!

Leon now ran out to a.s.sist Guapo in gathering his game. There were no less than eight couple of them in all, and they were all quite dead-- some of them shot in the thigh, some in the neck or wing, and others through the body. None of them had lived over two minutes after receiving the wound. Such is the quickness with which the "curare" does its work!

As a hunting instrument for most species of game the South American Indian prefers the gravatana to any other; and with good reason. Had Guapo been armed with a rifle or fowling-piece, he would have shot one macaw, or perhaps a pair, and then the rest would have uttered a tantalising scream, and winged their way out of his reach. He might have missed the whole flock too, for on a high tree, such as that on which they had alit, it is no easy matter to kill a macaw with a shot-gun. Now the gravatana throws its arrow to a height of from thirty to forty yards, and the least touch is sufficient to do the business.

Its silence, moreover, enables the hunter to repeat the shot, until several head of game reward his skill. The Indians use it with most effect in a vertical or upward direction; and they are always surer to kill a bird with it when perched on a high tree, than when seated on a low shrub or on the ground.

As we have observed that the curare can be taken inwardly without any danger, it will be evident to all that game killed by the poisoned arrows may be eaten with safety. Indeed, there are many epicures in South America who prefer it in this way; and when a chicken is wanted for the table, these people require that it should be killed by an arrow dipped in curare.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE MILK-TREE.

Guapo kept his promise with the tapir, and on that very same day.

Shortly after the macaws had been brought in, little Leona, who had been straying down by the water's edge, came running back to the house, and in breathless haste cried out, "Mamma, mamma! what a big hog!"

"Where, my pet?" inquired her mother, with a degree of anxiety, for she fancied that the child might have seen some fierce beast of prey instead of a hog.

"In the water," replied Leona; "among the great lilies."

"It's the tapir," cried Leon. "Carrambo! it's our tapir!"

Guapo was busy plucking his macaws, but at the word tapir he sprang to his feet, making the feathers fly in all directions.

"Where, senorita?" he asked, addressing little Leona.

"Down below," replied the child; "near the edge of the river."

Guapo seized his gravatana, and crouched down towards the bank, with Leon at his heels. On nearing the water, he stopped; and, with his body half bent, looked down stream. There, sure enough, was the huge brown beast standing with his body half out of the water, and pulling up the roots of the flags with his great teeth and long moveable snout. It was not likely he would return to his former den after the chase he had had; and fancying, no doubt, that all the danger lay upon the opposite sh.o.r.e, he had come to this side to browse awhile.

Guapo cautioned Leon to remain where he was, while he himself, almost crawling upon his belly, proceeded along the bank. In a few minutes he was out of sight, and Leon, seeing nothing more of him, kept his eyes sharply fixed upon the tapir.

The latter remained quietly feeding for about ten minutes, when the boy saw him give a little start. Perhaps, thought he, he has heard Guapo among the weeds--for the tapir has good ears--and that was what caused him to make the motion. The tapir stopped feeding for a moment, but then recommenced, though evidently not with as much eagerness as before.

Presently he stopped a second time, and seemed undetermined as to whether he should not turn and take to the clear water. In this way he hesitated for several minutes; then, to the astonishment of Leon, his body began to rock from side to side, and the next moment, with a plunge, he fell heavily backward, making the waves undulate on all sides of him. The arrow had done its work--he was dead!

A loud shout from Guapo echoed along the river, and the Indian was seen plunging forward to the dead tapir, which the next moment he had seized by the leg, and was dragging towards the bank. He was here met by the whole party, all of whom were anxious to see this rare and singular creature. Ropes were soon attached to the legs, and Guapo, a.s.sisted by Don Pablo and Leon, drew the huge carca.s.s out upon the sh.o.r.e; and dragged it up to the house.

Guapo at once skinned it, carefully preserving the hide to made soles for his sandals and other purposes; and that night all of them tried a "tapir-steak" for supper. All, however, Guapo alone excepted, preferred the flesh of the purple macaws, which, cooked as they were with onions and red pepper, were excellent eating, particularly for Spanish-American palates. Guapo had all the tapir to himself.

The bamboo palm-house was now quite finished, and several articles of furniture too--for during the nights both Don Pablo and his trusty man Guapo had worked at many things. You will, no doubt, be asking where they procured lights,--will you not? I shall tell you. One of the loftiest and most beautiful of the palm-trees--_the wax-palm (Ceroxylon Andicola_)--grew in these very parts, for the lower slopes of the Andes are its favourite habitat. Out of its trunk exudes wax, which has only to be sc.r.a.ped off and made into candles, that burn as well as those made of the wax of bees. Indeed, the missionaries, in their various religious ceremonies,--or "mummeries," as they might be better styled,-- have always made large use of these palm-candles. Another "wax-palm,"

called "Carnauba" (_Copernicia cerifera_), is found in South America.

In this one, the wax--of a pure white colour, and without any admixture of resin--collects upon the under-side of the leaves, and can he had in large quant.i.ties by merely stripping it off. But even, had neither of these palms been found, they needed not to have gone without lights, for the fruits of the "patawa," already described, when submitted to pressure, yield a pure liquid oil, without any disagreeable smell, and most excellent for burning in lamps. So, you see, there was no lack of light in the cheerful cottage.

But there were two things, you will say, still wanting--one of them a necessary article, and the other almost so--and which could not possibly be procured in such a place. These two things were _salt_ and _milk_.

Now there was neither a salt-mine, nor a lake, nor a drop of salt water, nor yet either cow, goat, or a.s.s, within scores of miles of the place, and still they had both salt and milk!

The milk they procured from a tree which grew in the woods close by, and a tree so singular and celebrated, that you have no doubt heard of it before now. It was the _palo de vaca_, or "cow-tree," called sometimes by an equally appropriate name _arbol del leche_, or "milk-tree." It is one of the n.o.blest trees of the forest, rising, with its tall straight stem, to a great height, and adorned with large oblong pointed leaves, some of which are nearly a foot in length. It carries fruit which is eatable, about the size of a peach, and containing one or two stones; and the wood itself is valuable, being hard, fine-grained, and durable.

But it is the sap which gives celebrity to the tree. This is neither more nor less than milk of a thick creamy kind, and most agreeable in flavour. Indeed, there are many persons who prefer it to the milk of cows, and it has been proved to be equally nutritious, the people fattening upon it in districts where it grows. It is collected, as the sugar-water is from the maple, simply by making a notch or incision in the bark, and placing a vessel underneath, into which the sap runs abundantly. It runs most freely at the hour of sunrise; and this is also true as regards the sap of the sugar-tree, and many other trees of that kind. Sometimes it is drunk pure as it flows from the tree; but there are some people who, not relis.h.i.+ng it in its thick gummy state, dilute it with water, and strain it before using it. It is excellent for tea or coffee, quite equal to the best cream, and of a richer colour. When left to stand in an open vessel, a thick coagulum forms on the top, which the natives term cheese, and which they eat in a similar manner, and with, equal relish. Another virtue of this extraordinary tree is that the cream, without any preparation, makes a glue for all purposes as good as that used by cabinet-makers, and, indeed, Don Pablo and Guapo had already availed themselves of it in this way.

So much for the _palo de vaca_.

It still remains for me to tell you where the _salt_ came from; and although the milk-tree was ever so welcome, yet the salt was a thing of still greater necessity. Indeed, the latter might be looked upon as an indispensable article in household economy. You, my young reader, know not what it is to be without salt. With whole sacks of this beautiful mineral within your reach, almost as cheap as sand, you cannot fancy the longing--the absolute craving--for it, which they feel who are for a period deprived of it. Even the wild animals will make long journeys in search of those salt-springs--or, as they are called, "licks"--which exist in many places in the wilderness of America. For salt, Don Pablo and his companions would have exchanged anything they had,--their sugar, plantains, cocoa, coffee, or even the ca.s.sava, which was their bread.

They longed for salt, and knew not how they could get on without it.

The only subst.i.tute was the "aji," or capsic.u.m, of which several species grew around, and almost every dish they ate was strongly spiced with it.

But still this was not salt, and they were not contented with it.

It was now that they found a friend in Guapo. Guapo knew that among many of the Indian tribes the fruit of a certain species of palm was manufactured into salt; and he knew the palm, too, if he could only get his eyes upon it. Seeing his master and the rest so troubled upon this head, Guapo rose one morning early and stole off among the groves of palm, on the other side of the river. There, in a marshy place, with its roots even growing in the water, stood the very tree,--a small palm of about four inches in diameter and twenty to thirty feet high. It was thicker at the base than the top, and the top itself rose several feet above the tuft of pinnate, feathery fronds, ending in a pointed spike.

It was the "jara" palm, of the genus _Leopoldinia_.

It was the fruits upon which Guapo bent his eyes with earnestness. Each one was as large as a peach, of an oval shape, slightly flattened, and of a yellowish green colour. They grew in large cl.u.s.ters among the bases of the leaves; and Guapo was not long in ascending several trees-- for the jara is a smooth-skinned palm, and can be climbed--and breaking off the spadices, and flinging them to the ground. He had soon collected a bag-full, with which he hurried back to the house.

All wondered what Guapo meant to do with these fruits, for they tasted them and found them very bitter. Guapo soon showed them his intention.

Having prepared a sort of furnace, he set the nuts on fire; and when they were thoroughly reduced to ashes, to the great joy and astonishment of all, these ashes, which were as white as flour, had the taste of salt! It is true it was not equal to "Turk's Island," nor yet to "Bay"

salt, but it proved to be good enough for cooking purposes, and satisfied the craving which all had felt for this indispensable article.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE CANNIBAL FISH AND THE GYMNOTUS.

About this time an incident occurred that was very near having a fatal termination for one of the party--Leon. The day was a very hot one, and as the cool water looked inviting, Leon could not resist the temptation of taking a bath. Having undressed himself, he plunged into the river nearly in front of where the house stood, and began splas.h.i.+ng about quite delighted. The rest were not heeding him, as each was engaged with some occupation within the house.

Leon at first kept wading about in a place that was not beyond his depth, but, by little and little, he took short swims, as he wished to practise, and become a good swimmer like Guapo. His father had not only given him permission, but had even advised him to do so. And it may be here remarked that all parents would do well to take the same course with their children and allow them to acquire this healthful and useful art. No one can deny that thousands of lives are annually sacrificed, because so few have taken the trouble to learn swimming.

Well; Leon was determined to be a swimmer, and at each attempt he made a wider stretch into the deep water, swam around, and then back again to the bank.

In one of these excursions, just as he had got farthest out, all at once he felt a sharp pain as if from the bite of some animal, and then another, and another, upon different parts of the body, as if several sets of teeth were attacking him at once!

Leon screamed--who wouldn't have done so?--and his scream brought the whole household to the edge of the water in less than a score of seconds. All of them believed that he was either drowning or attacked by a crocodile. On arriving at the bank, however, they saw that he was still above water, and swimming boldly for the sh.o.r.e--no signs of a crocodile were to be seen!

What was the matter?

Of course that question was asked him by all of them in a breath. His reply was that "he could not tell--_something was biting him all over_!"

The quick eye of the mother now caught sight of blood--around the swimmer the water was tinged with it--her piercing shriek rent the air.

"O G.o.d! my child--my child! Save him--save him!"

Both Don Pablo and Guapo dashed into the water and plunged forward to meet him. In the next moment he was raised in their arms, but the blood streamed down his body and limbs, apparently from a dozen wounds. As they lifted him out of the water they saw what had caused these wounds.

A shoal of small fish, with ashy-green backs and bright orange bellies and fins, was seen below. With large open mouths they had followed their victim to the very surface, and now that he was lifted out of their reach, they shot forward and attacked the legs of his rescuers, causing Don Pablo and Guapo to dance up in the water, and make with all haste for the bank. As soon as they had reached it, they turned round and looked into the water. There were these blood-thirsty pursuers that had followed them up to the very bank, and now swam about darting from point to point, and ready for a fresh attack on any one that might enter the water!

"They are the 'cannibal fis.h.!.+'" said Guapo, in an angry tone, as he turned to attend to Leon. "I shall punish them yet for it. Trust me, young master, you shall be revenged!"

Leon was now carried up to the house, and it was found that in all he had received nearly a dozen wounds! Some of them were on the calves of his legs, where the piece of flesh was actually taken out! Had he been farther out in the river, when first attacked, he might never have reached the sh.o.r.e alive, as the fierce creatures were gathering in far greater numbers when he was rescued, and would most undoubtedly have torn him to pieces and eaten him up! Such has been the fate of many persons who have fallen among the "cannibal fish" in the midst of wide rivers where they had no chance of escape. These ferocious little "caribes," or "caribitos," as they are called (for the word _carib_ signifies cannibal), lie at the bottom of rivers, and are not easily seen; but the moment an attack is made by one of them, and a drop of blood stains the water, the whole shoal rises to the surface, and woe to the creature that is a.s.sailed by their sharp triangular teeth!

Of course the wounds of Leon, although painful, were not dangerous, but the chief danger lay in the loss of blood which was pouring from so many veins. But Guapo found ready to his hand the best thing in the world for stopping it. On some mimosa-trees, not far from the house, he had already observed--indeed, so had all of them--a very singular species of ants' nests of a yellowish brown colour. The ants themselves were of a beautiful emerald green. They were the _Formica spinicollis_. These nests were composed of a soft cotton-down, which the ants had collected from a species of _Melastoma_, a handsome shrub found growing in these regions; and this down Guapo knew to be the best for blood-stopping.