Part 7 (1/2)
”This is the spot I was seeking,” observed our friend; ”and unless it is known to our pursuers, we shall here remain in security till they have pa.s.sed by.”
He leading the way, we all entered the cavern. It soon opened out into a large chamber with rugged sides. The pa.s.sage to it also had several b.u.t.tresses or projecting rocks, behind which we might take post, and could have fired down without being seen on any one approaching. From the entrance, also, we could watch the pathway by which we had come; and it was so small and overgrown with shrubs that it could not be perceived at any distance. Don Jose told me to climb up behind one of the rocks, while he and Isoro took post behind others. So completely were they concealed, that I could not discover where they were except by their voices. We waited anxiously, till at length a band of armed men was seen winding round the hill. Already they had pa.s.sed under the cave.
”We might follow, and without difficulty hurl every one of those fellows into the abyss below,” observed Don Jose. ”But we will spare them; they obey but the orders of their superiors.”
After waiting a little time longer, Don Jose emerged from the cavern, and looking about, told us that the road was clear. We accordingly descended, though it required great caution to avoid making a rapid descent into the deep ravine below us. For the greater part of the day we continued toiling on, supported by the coca with which we occasionally replenished our mouths. At length, towards evening, we made our way to a native hut, where we were received as usual. Here hammocks were slung for us between the pole on which the roof rested, our hosts undertaking to keep careful watch to prevent surprise.
I had become very anxious about the rest of our party, fearing that they might have been discovered. At the end of two more days I recognised the features of the spot where we had left them. No one was to be seen.
My heart sank. Had they been seized and carried off to Quito, or had they made their escape? Great was my satisfaction when, on rounding a rocky point, I caught sight of the huts, and saw Arthur running towards us. ”We are all well--very thankful to see you return!” he exclaimed, ”for we began to fear that you might have been lost.” Directly afterwards John and Ellen emerged from their huts, and now all the party were gathered round us. Poor dear Ellen welcomed me with tears in her eyes. Her spirits revived when Don Jose told her he had reason to believe that our parents were in safety. True could not restrain his joy, but kept leaping up and licking my hands and face, and jumping round and round me. Wherever I went he closely followed, determined not again to lose sight of me. At supper he sat by my side watching my face, nor would he leave me even though John and Arthur tried to tempt him away with offers of bits of pork or parrots' legs.
All the party were eager to set out at once, but it was necessary before we could do so to procure bearers to convey our luggage along the long and intricate path we had to take through the forest. This our friend undertook to do by the following day from a village at no great distance off.
The next morning a dozen stout natives--young, active men--made their appearance. They all had at their backs large baskets bound by withes pa.s.sing across the forehead and chest. They were but lightly clothed.
A small poncho covered their shoulders, and the usual cloth and kilt was worn round the loins, a wisp of leaves preventing their backs being chafed by their burdens. Each man also carried a long staff in his hand, and a bag of roasted corn as provision for the journey. The burdens were soon adjusted. One of them had a sort of chair at his back, which Don Jose had ordered to carry the senora, as Ellen was denominated. She insisted, however, that she was well able to walk, and not without difficulty we persuaded her to take advantage of the conveyance which had been provided.
We forthwith set out, and descending the mountain, were soon in the midst of the thick forest. Two of the Indians, who carried lighter burdens than the rest, went ahead with axes in their hands to clear the way. It was extraordinary with what rapidity they cut through the sipos, or hanging vines, which threw their serpent-like coils from tree to tree. So quick is their growth in that moist region, that other travellers following in a few weeks would have to perform the same operation, our friend told us. As we advanced the forest became thicker and thicker, the dark foliage forming a lofty vault through which no sunlight can ever enter. The air felt cool and excessively damp, compared to the exposed sides of the mountains. A constant mist seemed to hang on the branches. Not a sound was to be heard; scarcely a bird did we see in the swampy shades. The stillness and gloom, indeed, became almost painful. From the lofty trees hung down thousands of lianas, or air-roots, some forming thick festoons, others perfectly straight, of all lengths, many reaching almost down to our heads, others again touching the ground and taking root in the soft earth. Here and there some giant of the forest, decayed by age, had fallen, to remain suspended in the loops of the sipos. Thus we went on, following in Indian file. I kept near Ellen to cheer her up, while True followed close at my heels, every now and then licking my hands and jumping up, as if to ask me what I thought of the strange region we had entered. We found it rather difficult to converse. Sometimes we walked on for a considerable distance in silence.
We had thus been progressing for some time, the only sound heard being that of our footsteps on the rustling leaves, or that produced by the sharp axes of our pioneers, when suddenly our ears were startled by a loud crash, which, contrasted with the previous silence, made it seem as if the whole forest was coming down together. Ellen gave way to a slight cry of alarm. ”Do not be afraid, my young friends!” shouted Don Jose. ”It is only an ancient tree, weary of standing so long.” In a short time the cras.h.i.+ng sound ceased, and directly afterwards we came in sight of a vast trunk, which had fallen across the path we were about to pa.s.s along. We had to make a circuit therefore to avoid it. We could not but feel thankful that it had not delayed its fall till we were pa.s.sing beneath, although we might possibly have had time to escape, in consequence of its being upheld for a few seconds by the sipos, till its vast weight had dragged them down.
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE RIVER REACHED AT LAST.
We were not yet free of the mountains, for numerous spurs of the mighty Andes run eastward, between which the many streams proceeding from their snow-capped heights make their way towards the Amazon. Once more we were compelled to ascend a steep height, and then to proceed along the ridge for a considerable distance; then again we descended, to find at the bottom a roaring torrent. This had to be crossed.
The huge trunk of a tree had been placed by the natives over the deeper part, resting on the rocks on either side. The water hissed and bubbled round it, threatening every instant to carry it away. Isoro, however, urged us to cross without delay. He observed signs in the west, among the mountains, of a coming storm, he said, and should it break before we were safe on the other side, we should be prevented from crossing altogether. Still, as we looked at the frail bridge, John and I were very unwilling to expose Ellen to the risk she must run. At length Don Jose ordered the Indians to form a long rope of sipos, and to stretch it across the stream, that it might a.s.sist to steady the bearers on their pa.s.sage. This caused some delay. ”Hasten! hasten!” cried Isoro. ”I hear a sound which tells me that the waters are coming down!”
Don Jose on this led the way. Arthur kept close to him. I followed with True in my arms, for I had taken him up for fear of his being carried away by the current. Ellen's bearer same next. John walked close behind her, to render her a.s.sistance should it be required. With one hand I grasped the long sipo, with the other I kept tight hold of True. The rest had the advantage of being able to steady themselves with their poles. Domingos a.s.sisted Maria. The water, even before we reached the trunk, came roaring and hissing down round our legs, and I had some difficulty in stemming the current. I was thankful when our leader reached the trunk, and began his pa.s.sage over it. I found it, however, very slippery with the spray which broke over it. I dared not look back to see how it fared with Ellen. I heard her voice, however, as she cried out, ”Do not be afraid, Harry; my bearer steps firmly, and I am looking up at the blue sky and the waving tops of the tall trees; I do not feel any alarm.” Still there was a wide extent of bubbling water to be crossed beyond the end of the slippery trunk, and I could hear the loud roar of the waters which came down from the mountains through the ravine. I saw Don Jose hastening on, and more than once he turned and beckoned us to proceed more rapidly. The end of the bridge was reached.
Arthur hesitated to leap into the boiling water. Don Jose turned round and seized his hand and led him on. I followed. It seemed that every instant the depth of the water was increasing. I trembled for Ellen's safety, and yet could not venture to look back to ascertain how it was faring with her. I thought too of John, Maria, Domingos, and our Indians. The danger for those who came last would be greatly increased.
Had it not been for the sipo, I could scarcely have kept my footing.
Now I was wading up to my middle, now climbing over a rock worn smooth by the never-resting waters. The water was here somewhat shallower. I looked round. Ellen's bearer was following with firm steps, and was close behind me. ”On! on!” cried John. Our leader was already near the edge, and I hoped we should soon be in safety, when I heard Ellen utter a shriek of terror. I sprang on to the bank. Her bearer followed. She had not been alarmed on her own account; but now looking across the stream, I saw the bearers following closely on each other, pressing along the bridge. From above the water, in a vast foaming volume, was coming rus.h.i.+ng down, roaring loudly. John turned round, and taking Maria's hand, a.s.sisted her up the bank. Domingos clambered after her.
Our peons came close together behind. One man was still on the bridge, when the torrent, striking it with fearful force, lifted it off the rock, and away it went wheeling downwards. The peon kept his footing for an instant, then, as it began to turn over, he sprang off it towards the sh.o.r.e; but unable to disengage himself from his burden, he was borne downwards amid the tossing waters. The Indians ran down the bank to try and render him a.s.sistance. John and I followed, with Don Jose, who seemed unusually agitated. Now we saw the man clutching hold of a rock; soon again he was torn off, and went floating downwards. Still he struggled on bravely, making his way towards the sh.o.r.e. I expected every moment to see him give up the unequal contest, for the mighty waters seemed to have him in their grasp. Fortunately the bundle he carried was large, and though heavy out of the water, was light in it, and instead of sinking, a.s.sisted to float him.
John and I continued to make our way along the banks with the rest. We had got some distance down, when we saw what appeared to be an eddy or backwater in the river. Below it the stream rushed on with the same impetuosity as before. I called to John. ”I think we may save him,” I said; and signed to the Indians to cut some long sipos which hung down from the branches above us. Several flexible ones were speedily cut and fastened together. Both John and I were good swimmers. He secured one to his waist, as did I, signing to the Indians to hold the other ends.
Then we dashed into the stream, swimming out towards the struggling Indian. In another moment he would have been carried by us. I reached him just as I was at the extreme end of the sipo. John seized his arm directly afterwards, and together we towed him towards the bank, calling to the Indians to haul the sipo gently in. Soon reaching the bank, we dragged up our nearly drowned companion. Not till then did we discover that he was Isoro, who, it appeared, had taken the load of a sick bearer unable to carry it.
Isoro, as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to speak, thanked us warmly for preserving his life. Don Jose, who had come up, also added his thanks. ”I value him much,” he observed, ”and should have grieved deeply had he lost his life.”
We had little time for talking, however, for we had to hurry back to where we had left our companions, as the storm which had been brewing in the mountains now threatened to break over our heads. Our party, therefore, piling up their loads, made haste to erect some sheds similar to those we had already several times built. A quant.i.ty of the _sindicaspi_, or ”wood that burns,” was speedily cut, and fires were lighted, at which we dried our drenched clothes. Scarcely had our preparations been made, when the threatening storm burst over us, the wind howling and whistling through the trees, which waved to and fro, making a loud rustling sound; while every now and then we could hear the cras.h.i.+ng noise of some patriarch of the forest, as it sank beneath the blast. The rain came in torrents, and the river, surging and swelling, rapidly increased its breadth. We had indeed reason to be thankful that we had not delayed our crossing a moment longer. Our fires were soon put out, and water came rus.h.i.+ng down on either side of us through the forest. We, however, had chosen a slightly elevated spot for our camp, which, though surrounded by water, had hitherto escaped destruction.
The rain continuing to pour down in a perfect deluge, compelled us to remain in our camp. So secure, however, had the roofs been made, that we kept dry inside. Occasionally John, Arthur, and I ran into Ellen's hut to pay her a visit. We found her and Maria sitting very composedly, employing themselves with their work, which they produced from one of the bundles they had unpacked. Don Jose remained in his hut, attended by Isoro. He was much more out of spirits than we had yet seen him.
”My young friends,” he said, ”I must soon bid you farewell. I had resolved to accompany you till I could see you embarked on the river.
We shall reach it, I hope, in three or four days at furthest, but I cannot be longer absent from my people in these troubled times. I hope that you will soon overtake your father and family, who, from the accounts I have received, intend to wait for you at the mouth of the river, where it joins the Amazon. Though I must return, Isoro has expressed a wish to accompany you. You will find his a.s.sistance of value, as he has been among the wild tribes you will encounter on your pa.s.sage, and knows their habits and customs. They are very different from the people you have hitherto met, and may give you much annoyance, unless cautiously dealt with.”
We were very sorry to hear of Don Jose's intention of leaving us, as we had hoped that he intended to accompany us till we could overtake our father, though we were greatly obliged to him for his proposal of allowing Isoro to remain with us.
Once more, the clouds clearing away, we proceeded on our journey. We made, however, but slow progress, as in many places the sipos which had overgrown the path had to be cut way to allow of our pa.s.sage through the forest. I can scarcely attempt to convey in words an idea of the dense ma.s.s of foliage amid which we had to force our way. Vast roots like huge snakes ran out over the ground in all directions, their upper parts forming huge b.u.t.tresses to the giant stems. Then large ferns shot upwards, while a thick network of vines hung festooned in every possible form above our heads, many hanging down straight to the ground, while numberless curious air-plants hung suspended from the branches. Now and then gaily-plumaged birds were seen flitting amid the thick shade; but we were surprised at the paucity of animal life which existed. Not a quadruped was to be seen. A few monkeys and parrots were occasionally heard, though rarely caught sight of. We had numerous streams to cross; often, indeed, the same stream to cross several times. Frequently the pa.s.sage was almost as dangerous as that I have described. Sometimes we stopped at the huts of the natives, where we were as usual well received. They were built of bamboo, fastened together with lianas or sipos, the roofs covered with large palm-leaves. They willingly supplied us with such provisions as they possessed. The chief article was _yuca_ flour, with which we made cakes. It is the beet-like root of a small tree about ten feet high. When not hunting, the men appeared to spend their time in idleness. The women, however, were occasionally employed in manufacturing a thread called _pita_ from the leaves of the aloe, which they carry to Quito for sale. Occasionally the men collected vanilla. It is a graceful climber, belonging to the orchid family. The stalk, the thickness of a finger, bears at each joint a lanceolate and ribbed leaf a foot long and three inches broad. It has large star-like white flowers, intermixed with stripes of red and yellow, which fill the forest with delicious odours. They are succeeded by long slender pods, containing numerous seeds imbedded in a thick oily balsamic pulp. The seeds, which are highly esteemed, are used for flavouring chocolate and other purposes. Monkeys are very fond of them, and pick all they find, so that few are left on the wild plants for man's use. Vanilla is, however, cultivated in Mexico and other parts of the world. The Indians also collected copal. It is a gum which exudes from a lofty leguminous tree, having a bark like that of the oak.