Part 39 (1/2)
”Master,” says Matthew, who had moved up to my side, and was still in a mighty taking lest the Inga should do him a mischief, ”while he is in a good humor do you put in a sign or two to signify I am your friend.”
So I turned about, and grasped Matthew's hand without pretense (for I felt that I owed him my life and happiness), to show that I loved him much.
The Inga ceased to smile, and regarded Matthew from top to toe in silence; for these hunted Indians have need of all precautions, being so frequently tricked by treacherous Portugals; and he was the more doubtful of Matthew because he spoke the Inga tongue in the manner of those accursed Portugals.
”Oh, Lord!” says Matthew, ”he don't like the look of me.”
Then the Inga put many searching questions to him sharply, and might more readily have believed his replies but that poor Matthew, being of a quake of his life, did rub his hands together as if he were a-was.h.i.+ng them, cringing and smiling like any chandler, which was altogether the wrong way to win over an Inga; for they are a proud race, but not sycophants. However, in the end this Inga laid his hand on Matthew's breast (as he had on mine) for a sign of faith and friends.h.i.+p, which brought a huge sigh of content from the bottom of the honest fellow's heart.
”For,” says he, ”if we are to go amongst these Indians, I shall stand in need of a friend, lest one of 'em knows me for having married into his family without consent of the parents.”
”Ask,” says I, ”where Lady Biddy lies, and when I shall see her.”
When Matthew had put the question, the Inga pointed to the southwest; and then turning his hand towards the sun lowered it to the horizon, to indicate that we should not overtake her before sunset. After looking around him once more searchingly, he bade Matthew be silent, and so led the way down the hillside. But for all this warning Matthew could not help communicating his thoughts to me in a low tone now and then, for he was a generous-hearted fellow in all things, and was as fond of the sound of his own voice as any starling.
”Look you, master,” says he, ”how gentleness does rule the world above all the craft and cunning of the wicked; for while these sinful Portugals could not compa.s.s the ruin of an unprotected maid with all their might, one act of love on her part has brought about their overthrow, and saved us from the arrows of this Inga.”
”Ay, Matthew,” says I; ”and if we take Lady Biddy home to her friends, 'twill be due to your mercy when I lay a prisoner in the guardhouse.”
”Mercy!” says he; ”'twas nothing of the sort; 'twas but a yearning to hear honest English once more, for not one of my wives could I ever bring to speak it.”
In this manner we whispered our thoughts when the difficulty of getting to the bottom of that valley did not interfere.
At length we came down to the side of that river we had pa.s.sed upon our way to Valetta; and here Matthew begged the Inga to stay awhile and eat a bit of cold roast mutton and a crust of bread with us, as we were pretty nigh spent one way and another, having taken no food since daybreak. The Inga agreed to this, and we shared what was left of our food, and drained the wine-skin.
”Master,” says Matthew to the Inga, ”are we going to cross the river?”
The Inga nodded.
”I thought as much,” says Matthew. ”And we're to swim it?”
Again the Inga nodded.
”Now should I be in a bad way but for this wine-skin,” says Matthew, ”for I can swim no further than a frog may fly.”
”And how is your wine-skin to help you, friend?” says I.
He winked his roguish eye, and putting his lips to the empty skin blew into it until it was full of his breath and tight as any blown bladder.
”There,” says he, tying up the mouth, ”with that in my arms I'll kick myself to the other sh.o.r.e for a wager.”
CHAPTER XLIX.
MY LADY BIDDY AND I MEET AGAIN, TO OUR JOYFUL CONTENTMENT.
About sunset (as the Inga had promised) we came to the place where his tribe were encamped, which was amidst the mountains on the further side of the river, approached by a very intricate winding way, and so encompa.s.sed with sharp, high rocks that no man not acquainted with those parts might find his way thither, though he searched a lifetime.
Coming through this tortuous defile to an open s.p.a.ce, the Inga, being in advance some paces, suddenly came to a halt, and, turning to me, pointed in silence to a little rising hillock not far distant, where stood my Lady Biddy, s.h.i.+elding her eyes from the rays of the setting sun with her hand, and scanning the valley below.