Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
[Illustration: "BRAWN ... DASHED ON TO THE RESCUE"]
In Far Bolivia
A Story of a Strange Wild Land
BY
DR. GORDON STABLES, R.N.
Author of "'Twixt School and College" "The Hermit Hunter of the Wilds"
"The Naval Cadet" "Kidnapped by Cannibals" &c.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. FINNEMORE, R.I._
BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED
LONDON GLASGOW DUBLIN BOMBAY
1901
TO
MARIE CONNOR LEIGHTON
(NOVELIST AND CRITIC)
THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED
EVERY KINDLY WISH
BY
THE AUTHOR
PREFACE
Every book should tell its own story without the aid of "preface" or
"introduction". But as in this tale I have broken fresh ground, it is
but right and just to my reader, as well as to myself, to mention
prefatorially that, as far as descriptions go, both of the natives and
the scenery of Bolivia and the mighty Amazon, my story is strictly
accurate.
I trust that Chapter XXIII, giving facts about social life in La Paz and
Bolivia, with an account of that most marvellous of all sheets of fresh
water in the known world, Lake Titicaca, will be found of general
interest.
But vast stretches of this strange wild land of Bolivia are a closed
book to the world, for they have never yet been explored; nor do we know
aught of the tribes of savages who dwell therein, as far removed from
civilization and from the benign influence of Christianity as if they
were inhabitants of another planet. I have ventured to send my heroes
to this land of the great unknown, and have at the same time endeavoured
to avoid everything that might border on sensationalism.
In conclusion, my boys, if spared I hope to take you out with me again
to Bolivia in another book, and together we may have stranger adventures
than any I have yet told.
THE AUTHOR.
----
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I--ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON
CHAPTER II--STRANGE ADVENTURES IN THE FOREST--LOST!
CHAPTER III--BURNLEY HALL, OLD AND NEW
CHAPTER IV--AWAY DOWN THE RIVER
CHAPTER V--A DAY IN THE FOREST WILDS
CHAPTER VI--"NOT ONE SINGLE DROP OF BLOOD SHED"
CHAPTER VII--"A COLD HAND SEEMED TO CLUTCH HER HEART"
CHAPTER VIII--FIERCELY AND WILDLY BOTH SIDES FOUGHT
CHAPTER IX--THAT TREE IN THE FOREST GLADE
CHAPTER X--BENEE MAKES A STRANGE DISCOVERY
CHAPTER XI--ALL ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS
CHAPTER XII--BENEE ENTRENCHED--SAVAGE REVELS IN THE FOREST
CHAPTER XIII--THE MARCH TO THE LOVELESS LAND
CHAPTER XIV--THE HOME OF THE CANNIBAL--BENEE'S ROMANCE
CHAPTER XV--SHOOKS-GEE'S STORY--A CANNIBAL QUEEN
CHAPTER XVI--ON THE BANKS OF A BEAUTIFUL RIVER
CHAPTER XVII--BILL AND HIS BOATS
CHAPTER XVIII--AS IF STRUCK BY A DUM-DUM BULLET
CHAPTER XIX--STRUGGLING ONWARDS UP-STREAM
CHAPTER XX--THE PAGAN PAYNEES WERE THIRSTING FOR BLOOD
CHAPTER XXI--THE FOREST IS SHEETED IN FLAMES
CHAPTER XXII--EVENINGS BY THE CAMP FIRE
CHAPTER XXIII--A MARVELLOUS LAKE IN A MARVELLOUS LAND--LA PAZ
CHAPTER XXIV--BENEE'S STORY--THE YOUNG CANNIBAL QUEEN
CHAPTER XXV--BENEE'S MOTHER TO THE FRONT
CHAPTER XXVI--THE PALE-FACE QUEEN HAS FLED
CHAPTER XXVII--THE FIGHT AT THE FORT
CHAPTER XXVIII--THE DREAM AND THE TERROR!
CHAPTER XXIX--EASTWARD HO! FOR MERRIE ENGLAND
----
ILLUSTRATIONS
"Brawn ... dashed on to the rescue" . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"Brawn sprang at once upon his man"
"She ... held her at arm's-length"
"Fire low, lads ... don't waste a shot!"
IN FAR BOLIVIA
CHAPTER I--ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON
Miles upon miles from the banks of the mighty river, had you wandered
far away in the shade of the dark forest that clothed the valleys and
struggled high over the mountain-tops themselves, you would have heard
the roar and the boom of that great buzz-saw.
As early as six of a morning it would start, or soon after the sun, like
a huge red-hot shot, had leapt up from his bed in the glowing east
behind the greenery of the hills and woods primeval.
To a stranger coming from the south towards the Amazon--great queen of
all the rivers on earth--and not knowing he was on the borders of
civilization, the sound that the huge saw made would have been decidedly
alarming.
He would have stopped and listened, and listening, wondered. No
menagerie of wild beasts could have sent forth a noise so loud, so
strange, so persistent! Harsh and low at times, as its great teeth tore
through the planks of timber, it would change presently into a dull but
dreadful _basso profundo_, such as might have been emitted by
antediluvian monsters in the agonies of death or torture, rising anon
into a shrill howl or shriek, then subsiding once again into a steady
grating roar, that seemed to shake the very earth.
Wild beasts in this black forest heard the sounds, and crept stealthily
away to hide themselves in their caves and dens; caymans or alligators
heard them too, as they basked in the morning sunshine by lakelet or
stream--heard them and crawled away into caves, or took to the water
with a sullen plunge that caused the finny inhabitants to dart away in
terror to every point of the compass.
"Up with the tree, lads. Feed him home," cried Jake Solomons loudly but
cheerily. "Our pet is hungry this morning. I say, Bill, doesn't she
look a beauty. Ever see such teeth, and how they shine, too, in the red
sunlight. Guess you never did, Bill. I say, what chance would the
biggest 'gator that ever crawled have with Betsy here. Why, if Betsy
got one tooth in his hide she'd have fifty before you could say
'Jerusalem', and that 'gator'd be cut in two. Tear away, Betsy! Grind
and groan and growl, my lass! Have your breakfast, my little pet; why,
your voice is sweetest music to my ear. I say, Bill, don't the saw-dust
fly a few? I should smile!
"But see," he continued, "yonder come the darkies with our matutinal.
Girls and boys with baskets, and I can see the steam curling up under
Chloe's arm from the great flagon she is carrying! Look how her white
eyes roll, and her white teeth shine as she smiles her six-inch smile!
Good girl is Chloe. She knows we're hungry, and that we'll welcome her.
Wo, now, Betsy! Let the water off, Bill. Betsy has had her snack, and
so we'll have ours."
There was quietness now o'er hill and dell and forest-land.
And this tall Yankee, Jake Solomons, who was fully arrayed in cotton
shirt and trousers, his brown arms bare to the shoulder, stretched his
splendidly knit but spare form with a sort of a yawn.
"Heigho, Bill!" he said. "I'm pining for breakfast. Aren't you?"
"That I am," replied Burly Bill with his broadest grin.
Jake ran to the open side of the great saw-mill. Three or four strides
took him there.
"Ah! Good-morning, Chloe, darling! Morning, Keemo! Morning, Kimo!"
"Mawning, sah!" This was a chorus.
"All along dey blessed good-foh-nuffin boys I no come so queeck," said
Chloe.
"Stay, stay, Chloe," cried Jake, "never let your angry passions rise.
'Sides, Chloe, I calculate such language ain't half-proper. But how
glittering your cheeks are, Chloe, how white your teeth! There! you
smile again. And that vermilion blouse sets off your dark complexion to
a nicety, and seems just made for it. Chloe, I would kiss you, but the
fear of making Bill jealous holds me back."
Burly Bill shook with laughter. Bill was well named the Burly. Though
not so tall as Jake, his frame was immense, though perhaps there was a
little more adipose tissue about it than was necessary in a climate like
this. But Bill's strength was wonderful. See him, axe in hand, at the
foot of a tree! How the chips fly! How set and determined the man's
face, while the great beads of sweat stand like pearls on his brow!
Burly Bill was a white man turned black. You couldn't easily have
guessed his age. Perhaps he was forty, but at twenty, when still in
England, Bill was supple and lithe, and had a skin as white as a
schoolboy's. But he had got stouter as the years rolled on, and his face
tanned and tanned till it tired of tanning, and first grew purple, and
latterly almost black. The same with those hirsute bare arms of his.
There was none of the wild "Ha! ha!" about Bill's laughter. It was a
sort of suppressed chuckle, that agitated all his anatomy, the while his
merry good-natured eyes sought shelter behind his cheeks' rotundity.
Under a great spreading tree the two men laid themselves down, and Chloe
spread their breakfast on a white cloth between them, Jake keeping up
his fire of chaff and sweet nothings while she did so. Keemo and Kimo,
and the other "good-foh-nuffin boys" had brought their morning meal to
the men who fed the great buzz-saw.
"Ah, Chloe!" said Jake, "the odour of that coffee would bring the dead
to life, and the fish and the beef and the butter, Chloe! Did you do
all this yourself?"
"All, sah, I do all. De boys jes' kick about de kitchen and do nuffin."
"Dear tender-eyed Chloe! How clever you are! Guess you won't be so kind
to me when you and I get spliced, eh?"
"Ah sah! you no care to marry a poor black gal like Chloe! Dere is a
sweet little white missie waiting somew'eres foh Massa Jake. I be your
maid, and shine yo' boots till all de samee's Massa Bill's cheek foh
true."
As soon as Chloe with her "good-foh-nuffin boys" had cleared away the
breakfast things, and retired with a smile and saucy toss of her curly
poll, the men lay back and lit their pipes.
"She's a bright intelligent girl that," said Jake. "I don't want a wife
or--but I say, Bill, why don't you marry her? I guess she'd make ye a
tip-topper."
"Me! Is it marry?"
Burly Bill held back his head and chuckled till he well-nigh choked.
Honest Bill's ordinary English showed that he came from the old country,
and more particularly from the Midlands. But Bill could talk properly
enough when he pleased, as will soon be seen.
He smoked quietly enough for a time, but every now and then he felt
constrained to take his meerschaum from his mouth and give another
chuckle or two.
"Tchoo-hoo-hoo!" he laughed. "Me marry! And marry Chloe!
Tchoo-hoo-hoo!"
"To change the subject, William," said Jake, "seein' as how you've
pretty nearly chuckled yourself silly, or darned near it, how long have
you left England?"
"W'y, I coom over with Mr. St. Clair hisse'f, and Roland w'y he weren't
more'n seven. Look at 'e now, and dear little Peggy, 'is sister by
adoption as ever was, weren't a month over four. Now Rolly 'e bees nigh
onto fifteen, and Peggy--the jewel o' the plantation--she's goin' on for
twelve, and main tall for that. W'y time do fly! Don't she, Jake?"
"Well, I guess I've been here five years, and durn me if I want to
leave. Could we have a better home? I'd like to see it. I'd smile a
few odd ones. But listen, why here comes the young 'uns!"
There was the clatter of ponies' feet, and next minute as handsome a boy
as ever sat in saddle, and as pretty and bright a lassie as you could
wish to meet, galloped into the clearing, and reined up their spirited
little steeds close to the spot where the men were lounging.
Burly Bill stuck his thumb into the bowl of his meerschaum to put it
out, and Jake threw his pipe on the bank.
Roland was tall for his age, like Peggy. But while a mass of fair and
irrepressible hair curled around the boy's sun-burned brow, Peggy's hair
was straight and black. When she rode fast it streamed out behind her
like pennons in the breeze. What a bright and sunny face was hers too!
There was ever a happy smile about her red lips and dark eyes.
"You've got to begin to smoke again immediately," said the boy.
"No, no, Master Roland, not in the presence of your sister."
"But," cried Peggy, with a pretty show of pomposity, "I command you!"
"Ah, then, indeed!" said Jake; and soon both men were blowing clouds
that made the very mosquitoes change their quarters.
"Father'll be up soon, riding on Glancer. This nag threw Father, coming
home last night. Mind, Glancer is seventeen hands and over."
"He threw him?"
"That he did, in the moonlight. Scared at a 'gator. Father says he
heard the 'gator's great teeth snapping and thought he was booked. But
lo! Jake, at that very moment Glancer struck out with both
hind-legs--you know how he is shod. He smashed the 'gator's skull, and
the beast turned up his yellow belly to the moon."
"Bravo!"
"Then Father mounted mighty Glancer and rode quietly home.
"Peggy and I," he continued, "have ridden along the bank to the
battlefield to hold a coroner's inquest on the 'gator, but he's been
hauled away by his relations. I suppose they'll make potato soup of
him."
Burly Bill chuckled.
"Well, Peggy and I are off. See you in the evening, Jake. By-by!"
And away they rode, like a couple of wild Indians, followed by a huge
Irish wolf-hound, as faithful a dog to his mistress--for he was Peggy's
own pet--as ever dog could be.
They were going to have a day in the forest, and each carried a short
six-chambered rifle at the saddle.
A country like the wild one in which they dwelt soon makes anyone brave
and fearless. They meant to ride quite a long way to-day and not return
till the sun began to decline in the far and wooded west. So, being
already quite an old campaigner, Roland had not forgotten to bring
luncheon with him, and some for bold Brawn also.
Into the forest they dashed, leaving the mighty river, which was there
about fifteen miles broad probably, in their rear.
They knew every pathway of that primeval woodland, and it mattered but
little to them that most of these had been worn by the feet of wild
beasts. Such tracks wind out and in, and in and out, and meet others in
the most puzzling and labyrinthine manner.
Roland carried a compass, and knew how to use it, but the day was
unusually fine and sunny, so there was little chance of their getting
lost.
The country in which they lived might well have been called the land of
perpetual summer.
But at some spots the forest was so pitchy dark, owing to the
overhanging trees and wild flowering creepers, that they had to rein up
and allow Coz and Boz, as their ponies were named, to cautiously feel
the way for themselves.
How far away they might have ridden they could not themselves tell, had
they not suddenly entered a kind of fairy glade. At one side it was
bounded by a crescentic formation of rock, from the very centre of which
spouted a tiny clear crystal waterfall. Beneath was a deep pool, the
bottom of which was sand and yellow shingle, with here and there a patch
of snow-white quartz. And away from this a little stream went
meandering slowly through the glade, keeping it green.
On the other side were the lordly forest trees, bedraped with flowering
orchids and ferns.
Flowers and ferns grew here and there in the rockface itself. No wonder
the young folks gazed around them in delighted wonder.
Brawn was more practical. He cared nothing for the flowers, but enjoyed
to the fullest extent the clear cool water of the crystal pool.
"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said Roland.
"And oh, I am so hungry, Rolly!"
Rolly took the hint.
The ponies were let loose to graze, Brawn being told to head them off if
they attempted to take to the woods.
"I understand," said Brawn, with an intelligent glance of his brown eyes
and wag of his tail.
Then down the boy and girl squatted with the noble wolf-hound beside
them, and Roland speedily spread the banquet on the moss.
I dare say that hunger and romance seldom tread the same platform--at
the same time, that is. It is usually one down, the other up; and
notwithstanding the extraordinary beauty of their surroundings, for some
time both boy and girl applied themselves assiduously to the discussion
of the good things before them; that meat-pie disappearing as if by
magic. Then the hard-boiled eggs, the well-buttered and flouriest of
floury scones, received their attention, and the whole was washed down
with _vinum bovis_, as Roland called it, cow's wine, or good milk.
Needless to say, Brawn, whose eyes sparkled like diamonds, and whose
ears were conveniently erect, came in for a good share.
Well, but the ponies, Boz and Coz, had not the remotest idea of running
away. In fact they soon drew near to the banqueting-table. Coz laid
his nose affectionately on his little mistress's shoulder and heaved an
equine sigh, and Boz began to nibble at Roland's ears in a very winning
way.
And the nibbling and the sigh brought them cakes galore.
Roland offered Boz a bit of pie.
The pony drew back, as if to say, "Vegetarians, weren't you aware?"
But Brawn cocked his bonnie head to one side, knowingly.
"Pitch it this way, master," he said. "I've got a crop for any kind of
corn, and a bag for peas."
A strange little rodent creature, much bigger than any rat, however,
with beautiful sad-looking eyes, came from the bush, and stood on its
hind-legs begging, not a yard away. Its breast was as white as snow.
Probably it had no experience of the genus _homo_, and all the cruelties
he is guilty of, under the title of sport.
Roland pitched several pieces of pie towards the innocent. It just
tasted a morsel, then back it ran towards the wood with wondrous speed.
If they thought they had seen the last of it, they were much mistaken,
for the innocent returned in two minutes time, accompanied not only by
another of his own size, but by half a dozen of the funniest little
fairies ever seen inside a forest.
"My wife and children," said innocent No. 1.
"My services to you," bobbed innocent No. 2.
But the young ones squawked and squealed, and tumbled and leapt over
each other as they fed in a manner so droll that boy and girl had to
laugh till the woods rang.
Innocent No. 1 looked on most lovingly, but took not a morsel to
himself.
Then all disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
Truly the student of Nature who betakes himself to lonely woods sees
many wonders!
It was time now to lie back in the moss and enjoy the _dolce far
niente_.
The sky was as blue as blue could be, all between the rifts of
slowly-moving clouds. The whisper of the wind among the forest trees,
and the murmur of the falling water, came like softest music to Roland's
ears. Small wonder, therefore, that his eyes closed, and he was soon in
the land of sweet forgetfulness.
But Peggy had a tiny book, from which she read passages to Brawn, who
seemed all attention, but kept one eye on the ponies at the same time.
It was a copy of the "Song of Hiawatha", a poem which Peggy thought
ineffably lovely. Hark to her sweet girl voice as she reads:
"These songs so wild and wayward,
These legends and traditions".
They appealed to her simple soul, for dearly did she love the haunts of
Nature.
"Loved the sunshine of the meadow,
Loved the shadow of the forest,
Loved the wind among the branches,
The rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades of pine-trees."
She believed, too:
"That even in savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings
For the good they comprehend not;
That feeble hands and helpless,
Groping blindly in the darkness,
Touch God's right hand...
And are lifted up and strengthened".
----
Roland slumbered quietly, and the day went on apace.
He slept so peacefully that she hardly liked to arouse him.
The little red book dropped from her hand and fell on the moss, and her
thoughts now went far, far away adown the mighty river that flows so
sadly, so solemnly onwards to the great Atlantic Ocean, fed on its way
by a hundred rapid streams that melt in its dark bosom and are seen
nevermore.
But it was not the river itself the little maiden's thoughts were
dwelling on; not the strange wild birds that sailed along its surface on
snow-white wings; not the birds of prey--the eagle and the hawk--that
hovered high in air, or with eldritch screams darted on their prey like
bolts from the blue, and bore their bleeding quarries away to the silent
forest; not even the wealth of wild flowers that nodded over the banks
of the mighty stream.
Her thoughts were on board a tall and darksome raft that was slowly
making its way seaward to distant Para, or in the boats that towed it.
For there was someone on the raft or in those boats who even then might
be fondly thinking of the dark-haired maiden he had left behind.
But Peggy's awakening from her dream of romance, and Roland's from his
slumber, was indeed a terrible one.