Part 41 (1/2)
MATTHEW AND I CONTINUE THE DISCUSSION, BUT WITH SMALL PROFIT.
”Master,” begins Matthew, ”the Ingas would have us go to their village, which lies, as I take it, among the mountains to the west, nigh that river Meta they have spoken about.”
”There need be no hesitation in agreeing to that,” says I; ”for whether we resolve to make for the north seaboard board or the west, this village lies all in our way.”
”You are in the right,” says he; ”but they would have us stay there.”
”That needs no consideration neither,” says I; ”for we have no mind to become Ingas.”
”Not so fast, master; hear me out,” says he. ”They would have us stay there until they have drawn together their scattered people in such force as we may a.s.sault the Portugals, and take one of their ports.”
”That is easier said than done, Matthew.”
”Ay,” says he; ”like descending the Baraquan, but with this difference--that in attacking a town we can ascertain pretty fairly what opposition we shall have to encounter, and what force we have to overcome it; while in t'other affair there's no knowing what obstacle may stand in our way, or what accidents of sickness and the like may happen to enfeeble us. Look you, master, the furthest an Englishman has penetrated into Guiana by the Oronoque is a matter of thirty or forty leagues, and that with the succor of l.u.s.ty fellows well armed with boats and stores; now, what we two men, with no arms but what we can beg of the Ingas, and no stores but what we may carry on our backs, propose to compa.s.s is a journey through that same Guiana by untrodden ways and broken waters--a distance of three or four hundred leagues, as I reckon; and with a female, remember. Likewise I would have you reflect that ere we are many months on our way, we shall be overtaken by the rain, when we must seek high ground, or be swept away by the floods and torrents that pour through the valleys. For you and me a month or two of misery, more or less, may count for nothing; but how is the female to stand it, with not a dry thread to her back, and, as like as not, never a bit of shoe to her foot?”
This perspective was terrible enough, and yet, as I saw not overdrawn, but indeed favorable in comparison with the image that presented itself to my mind, of my poor lady falling sick under the hards.h.i.+ps of privation, and having no shelter but chilly rocks, no remedy, no comfort, nor any hand to render those services which a woman can only receive from a woman.
”Now, Matthew,” says I, ”let me hear what you have to say in favor of t'other venture, for I see which song your voice is most in tune for.”
”I will say what I think, master,” says he, showing greater patience with me than I with him, ”for I have no wish you should count me wiser or more foolish than I am. Yet that you may not be disinclined to the Ingas' design by thinking my wishes lead me to set it out in a fairer light than it deserves, I must tell you that I have no relish for meddling with the Portugals. I have seen enough of 'em to satisfy my stomach to the last day of my life, and would rather end my days in a wilderness than under the walls of a town. Anyhow, master, I will try to let you see their project as they laid it out to me. This tribe numbers about a hundred men and boys; females count for nothing. Ten of their number will be left with us in the village; the rest will go out to rouse up other tribes and bring them to their purpose. They will take with them the Portugals' muskets, as a proof of what they have done, and I warrant it will count for something in their inducement that they have for allies a couple of Englishmen who are accustomed to whipping Portugals; for it is certainly in the knowledge of these Indians that we beat them out of Cartagena in years gone by.”
”How many Indians do they think to muster in this business?”
”Betwixt three and four hundred, according to the general opinion, and that within a month.”
”Say they gather together all that they hope for,” says I, ”what can a band of naked savages do against a town fortified with guns and defended by trained soldiery, Matthew?”
”In the first place, master, let me tell you, 'tis no inconvenient to fight without clothes in these parts. As for their guns, I doubt if they will ever get a chance of firing at us. We shall take the town by surprise, for these Ingas know how to march easily through the woods by ways unknown to the Portugals. Against the trained soldiery we shall bring ten arquebuses, with good account, I'll answer for it, with galore of bows, blow-guns, and pikes, all wielded by fellows who are fighting for liberty and life.”
”Supposing we carry the town, as very probably we may, what then? Unless every soul in the place is ma.s.sacred the news must be carried to the Portugals, who will lose no time in sending s.h.i.+ps and men to recover it.
Supposing the Ingas can withstand an a.s.sault, how long can they stand out against an organized siege?”
”Why, that's their lookout,” says Matthew. ”What we have at heart is getting out of Guiana, and it will be odd indeed if we can't get some sort of craft to bear us thence ere the Portugals come down to lay siege to the place.”
”What,” says I, ”would you desert the Ingas after leading 'em into this pitfall?”
”Nay,” says he, ”'tis their own wish to go there, and they know full well we have no wish to stay.”
”Ay,” says I; ”but did you warn them of the vengeance the Portugals will certainly take? No! On the other hand, with your prating of our prowess on the sea, and the mult.i.tude of our s.h.i.+ps, and drubbings in store for the Portugals, you may have led them to believe that we should come back with s.h.i.+ps and men to help them, which can never be while we stand at peace with the Portugal.”
Matthew scratched his head in silence for a minute, and then says he:
”'Twould be a scurvy trick to leave the poor fellows to fight the next battle alone, and that's a fact. If they could only hold their own--or anybody else's.”
”But they can not, so we must set our faces against their design.”
”I don't mind standing by 'em, master, if you're minded to let me take the responsibility of this business on my own shoulders. I warrant there's not a soul alive in England who remembers me, or would care to see me again.”