Part 20 (1/2)
OUR PETS--THE GALE--THE SKIPPER'S VEXATION--ALARMING INTELLIGENCE--THE CHASE--OUR PURSUERS ON Sh.o.r.e--WE REACH STABROEK--WELCOME INTELLIGENCE-- OUR RETURN TO TRINIDAD--MY FATHER'S DEATH--CONCLUSION.
We glided slowly across the lake during the night, and at early dawn came in sight of the entrance of a broad pa.s.sage, which our good captain believed would lead us through a chain of lakes into the river by which we had come. The wind favoured us, and either the captain or his mate were continually sounding with long poles, to avoid the risk of running on any hidden sandbank which might lie in our course.
The appearance of the banks was greatly changed: long gra.s.s and shrubs grew on spots before concealed by water; small islands covered with vegetation were seen where we had supposed no land existed. Navigation, therefore, was extremely difficult, and the greatest caution was necessary to escape running on sh.o.r.e. Still, the depth of water was considerable, so that we had no fear of being stopped by impa.s.sable sandbanks or shoals. In several places which had before been overspread by the water we saw native huts, with the inhabitants--who gazed at us with astonishment as we pa.s.sed--collected round them. Some followed us in canoes, but ignorant that we were not possessed of firearms, they kept at a distance. Occasionally a few Indians came off to trade, bringing tortoises and fruit; but as we would not allow them on board, they did not discover our defenceless condition; and we took good care to hide our bows and arrows, which would have made them suspect that we had no firearms.
We were somewhat closely packed on board the little vessel, what with twelve human beings, three monkeys, the cura.s.sow, the macaw, two parrots and three parakeets--one with a yellow top-knot, who, from his manners, showed that he considered himself the chief of the party, and deserving of the most attention; then there were ten turtles and a number of tortoises. The turtles, however, were stowed in the hold, and served as ballast. Quacko and the parrots afforded us constant amus.e.m.e.nt. The former generally took up his seat on the roof of the cabin, in front of the parrots, whose perches were fixed upon it. Arthur, Marian, and I took infinite pains to improve their manners and teach them all sort of tricks, so that they might be fit, as Marian observed, to appear in civilised society.
Though we had been very happy during our long sojourn in the wilds of the Orinoco, the elders of the party especially looked forward with satisfaction to reaching a place where we could live without fear of attack from savages, anacondas, or wild beasts, and where we could hear what was going on in the world. Marian and I agreed, however, that we should have been very happy to have remained on at our settlement as long as our friends liked to stay.
We now and then, I must confess, had some difficulty in keeping our pets in order. They had got on very well on sh.o.r.e, but in the close contact to which they were subjected on board their tempers were somewhat tried, and Uncle Paul suggested that we should take immediate steps for the setting up of family government. Jack, the macaw, though he had been placed on the highest perch as a post of honour, was continually climbing down to quarrel with the parrots, and creating a fearful hubbub with his hoa.r.s.e screaming; while the parrots fought desperately over their food. One day they and the macaw, while wrangling together, in the blindness of their anger tumbled overboard; and had not Sambo jumped into the water and hauled them out, they would have all three been drowned, or fallen into the maw of some ravenous alligator. The parakeets were as quarrelsome as their larger brethren--yellow-top considered himself quite as good as a dozen green ones; while they, with their loud screeches, created such a disturbance that the skipper sometimes threatened to send them on sh.o.r.e, where they might settle their disputes by themselves. Sometimes the three parakeets would band together, and trotting up and down would insult the parrots. When a flock of their relatives pa.s.sed over the vessel, the whole feathered community would set up so terrific a scream, that it might have been heard by every bird within the circuit of a mile. The cura.s.sow was the best behaved of the party. When her meals were over she would sit for hours together at Marian's feet, who was diligently endeavouring to repair some of her worn-out garments, so as to appear respectable on her arrival. Cra.s.s made herself very useful, also, in eating up the flies and other insects which came on board.
At length we reached the main stream of the Orinoco, down which we glided rapidly with the current. We were not, however, destined to perform our voyage without further adventures. The weather, hitherto fine, suddenly changed, and a strong wind got up, which blew in our teeth. It increased to a gale, which sorely tried the little craft, and threatened to tear our sails into ribbons. Happily a deep bay, or the mouth of a river or igarape, appeared on our starboard hand; and running into it, we found shelter beneath a lofty bank, where there was deep water close to the sh.o.r.e. Recollecting our former escape, we could not help fearing that, should the wind change, we might meet with a similar accident. We had, I should have said, an anchor made of very heavy, hard wood, weighted with stones bound on by stout ropes. It was, as may be supposed, an unwieldy and ugly affair; and, as we could not have carried another, we had to be very careful not to lose it.
The wind howled and the tall trees waved above our heads, but we lay secure; the only risk being from some giant of the forest, which, uprooted, might come cras.h.i.+ng down upon our deck, or from some big limb torn off. But as there was not much probability of such an occurrence, we remained where we were, hoping that it might not happen. As the gale gave no signs of abating, our three Indians swam on sh.o.r.e, Kallolo with his blowpipe, and the other two with their bows, to kill some game.
After safely landing, they were soon lost to sight amid the trees.
The skipper would allow no one else to go. ”It will not be wise to be left shorthanded, in case anything should happen,” he observed. ”We know not what may occur.”
As we saw no signs of inhabitants, we did not expect to be visited either by friends or foes; still, had the latter appeared, they might have been tempted to come on board from seeing but few people on the vessel's deck.
Night came on, and the Indians not having returned, we began at length to grow anxious about them. The gale had not abated, and we thought that, knowing we should not move, they had been induced to go further than they had intended. They would not desert us--of that we were very sure; indeed, both Kallolo and Maco had their families residing in the neighbourhood of Stabroek, and were anxious to return to them. Half of our party kept watch at night, while the rest lay down, ready to start up in a moment.
Towards morning the wind began to decrease, and the skipper did not conceal his vexation at the non-appearance of the Indians. ”If the wind becomes fair, we must sail and leave them behind,” he exclaimed. ”They ought to have known better than to go so far away.”
Uncle Paul, however, tried to excuse them, and expressed his belief that they would not intentionally have delayed returning. ”The wind has not yet gone down or changed,” he said; ”and as we cannot possibly sail, Kallolo, who knows this, sees that it is not absolutely necessary to return. Let us wait patiently; they will come back before long.”
The sun arose; the clouds dispersed, but still the wind blew against us.
After an hour or more had pa.s.sed, however, on looking out we perceived that the tree-tops no longer waved; and on glancing across the river we found that its surface, hitherto broken into foaming waves, had become perfectly calm.
”The wind is about to change, and we ought to have been out of this place,” exclaimed the skipper. ”We must get up the anchor and row off into the channel. The fellows will have a longer swim, that's all.”
”You would not desert them, surely,” said Uncle Paul.
”Well, I should be sorry to do so. We will wait a bit, and see if they come. I hope nothing has happened to the poor men,” said the kind-hearted skipper, who had never really intended to leave the Indians behind, and whose anger had now given way to anxiety on their account.
He even proposed sending Sambo on sh.o.r.e to try and discover what had become of them; but Uncle Paul dissuaded him from this, as, had they been taken prisoners, or got into any other difficulty, the black would run a great risk of sharing their fate. Still we delayed. At last the skipper, with a sigh, exclaimed, ”We must get up the anchor, Peter; the poor fellows would have come back before this if they were coming at all.”
Uncle Paul no longer made any objections. We shortened in the cable, but it required all our strength to haul up the ponderous anchor. We had managed to lift it out of its oozy bed, when we heard a shout, and looking up we saw the three natives rus.h.i.+ng through the forest. Without stopping for a moment they dashed into the water. As they swam off they called out to us to heave them ropes. They were quickly alongside; and even before they had scrambled on board Kallolo cried out, ”Get under way! get under way! No time to be lost!”
”That's just what we were about to do,” said the skipper; ”but why, after keeping us so long, are you in so great a hurry?”
”We could not help the delay; but there's no time to be lost. We will tell you all about it presently. Get under way! get under way!”
repeated Kallolo.