Part 27 (1/2)

We had landed, as I have said, in a cove off the bay, and this was really the mouth of a little river, very silent here and very deep, but a little more inland hurrying along over its stony bed with a noise like thunder. It was doubtless fed by the melting snows of the Cordilleras.

Jill and I left the men to draw up the boat while we took a little ramble into the interior, promising Ritchie not to go beyond hail. We wanted to stretch our legs and get fully awakened.

Jill was his old self again, so I was happy accordingly.

”How's all this going to end, Jill?” I said.

”I don't know,” replied Jill; ”but I suppose we might as well be here as anywhere else.”

”Certainly; if those interesting savages do not give us more trouble.”

”Oh, bother take them; never mind. We gave them such a dose yesterday they'll hardly want another.”

”Jill,” I said, ”look!”

We had come to a bit of clearing on the banks of the river, and close by a huge tree were the remains of a fire. The ground round it, too, was well beaten down, as if people had lately been round it.

”Strange!” said Jill, ”and no one seems about.”

I took up two half-burned branches. The ends were covered with ashes and looked cold. I struck them together, _sparks flew out_!

”Jill,” I said, ”we'll go back now. The Indians are near us now.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A STATE OF SIEGE.

We hastened back to give Ritchie the news.

If we had expected he would exhibit any surprise we were mistaken.

”It's no more'n I expected,” he said quietly.

”Perhaps,” I hazarded, ”these are friendly Fuegians?”

”I never met 'em,” he replied. ”Must be some new tribe. All that ever I saw could be friendly enough when driving a good bargain, and sc.r.a.ping the b.u.t.ter all to their own side of the dish. Their motto is, 'Take all we can get, and take it anyhow.' My dear lad,” he continued, ”could anything be handier for these savages than to collar a white man. He is dressed, and has nick-nacks in his pocket; well, they want the dress and the nick-nacks, for you see they don't have any clothes of their own worth mentioning; then the body of the white man comes in handy for a side-dish. They think no more of killing a white man than they do of sending an arrow through the heart of a guanaco. No, never trust a Fuegian farther than you can fling him, and that'd be over the cliff if I had all my will.”

Hark! There was a cras.h.i.+ng sound among the bushes not far off. I ran to my gun. So did Jill. But Ritchie never moved step nor muscle, at which I was at first a little surprised. Not, however, when a guanaco appeared in the clearing not far off, and had a long-necked look at us.

”Don't fire!” he cried. ”We're not ready for the n.i.g.g.e.rs yet.”

”Didn't you fancy,” I asked, ”that the savages were on us when you heard the bushes crackling?”

”That I didn't. They don't come like that. You don't see them, and you never hear them. No, they're all from home. That fire was lit last night, and left burning. But they'll come back. So now to get ready.

You see, young gentlemen, the gentry very likely look upon the glen and woods round here as a kind of happy hunting-ground. There is fish in the river, too, and fish in the bay. So, though it may be days before they come, we may as well cook their dinner in time.”

”But surely we won't be here for days?”

”Maybe not. But it's just as likely to be days as not. It all depends.”