Before we start on this adventurous cruise, let us take a peep at an
upland region to the south of the Amazon. It was entirely surrounded by
caoutchouc or india-rubber trees, and it was while wandering through
this dense forest with Jake, and making arrangements for the tapping of
those trees, the juice of which was bound to bring the St. Clairs much
money, that they came upon the rocky table-land where they found the
gold.
This was some months after the strange Indian had found the "babes in
the wood", as Jake sometimes called Roland and Peggy.
"I say, sir, do you see the quartz showing white everywhere through the
bloom of those beautiful flowers?"
"Ugh!" cried St. Clair, as a splendidly-coloured but hideous large snake
hissed and glided away from between his feet. "Ugh! had I tramped on
that fellow my prospecting would have been all ended."
"True, sir," said Jake; "but about the quartz?"
"Well, Jake."
"Well, Mr. St. Clair, there is gold here. I do not say that we've
struck an El Dorado, but I am certain there is something worth digging
for in this region."
"Shall we try? You've been in Australia. What say you to a shaft?"
"Good! But a horizontal shaft carried into the base of this hill or
hummock will, I think, do for the present. It is only for samples, you
know."
And these samples had turned out so well that St. Clair, after claiming
the whole hill, determined to send Jake on a special message to Para to
establish a company for working it.
He could take no more labour on his own head, for really he had more
than enough to do with his estate.
No white men were allowed to work at the shaft. Only Indians, and these
were housed on the spot. So that the secret was well kept.
And now the voyage down the river was to be undertaken, and a most
romantic cruise it turned out to be.
St. Clair had ordered a steamer to be built for him in England and sent
out in pieces. She was called _The Peggy_, after our heroine. Not very
large--but little over the dimensions of a large steam-launch, in
fact--but big enough for the purpose of towing along the immense raft
with the aid of the current.
Jake was to go with his samples of golden sand and his nuggets; Burly
Bill, also, who was captain of the _Peggy_; and Beeboo, to attend to the
youngsters in their raft saloon. Brawn was not to be denied; and last,
but not least, went wild Dick Temple.
The latter was to sleep on board the steamer, but he would spend most of
his time by day on the raft.
All was ready at last. The great raft was floated and towed out far
from the shore. All the plantation hands, both whites and Indians, were
gathered on the banks, and gave many a lusty cheer as the steamer and
raft got under way.
The last thing that those on shore heard was the sonorous barking of the
great wolf-hound, Brawn.
There was a ring of joy in it, however, that brought hope to the heart
of both Tom St. Clair and his winsome wife.
Well, to our two heroes and to Peggy, not to mention Brawn and Burly
Bill, the cruise promised to be all one joyous picnic, and they set
themselves to make the most of it.
But to Jake Solomons it presented a more serious side. He was St.
Clair's representative and trusted man, and his business was of the
highest importance, and would need both tact and skill.
However, there was a long time to think about all this, for the river
does not run more than three miles an hour, and although the little
steamer could hurry the raft along at probably thrice that speed, still
long weeks must elapse before they could reach their destination.
As far as the raft was concerned, this would not be Para. She would be
grounded near to a town far higher up stream, and the timber, nuts,
spices, and rubber taken seaward by train.
In less than two days everyone had settled down to the voyage.
The river was very wide and getting wider, and soon scarcely could they
see the opposite shore, except as a long low green cloud on the northern
horizon.
Life on board the raft was for a whole week a most uneventful dreamy
sort of existence. One day was remarkably like another. There was the
blue of the sky above, the blue on the river's great breast, broken,
however, by thousands of lines of rippling silver.
There were strangely beautiful birds flying tack and half-tack around
the steamer and raft, waving trees flower-bedraped--the flowers trailing
and creeping and climbing everywhere, and even dipping their sweet faces
in the water,--flowers of every hue of the rainbow.
Dreamy though the atmosphere was, I would not have you believe that our
young folks relapsed into a state of drowsy apathy. Far from it. They
were very happy indeed. Dick told Peggy that their life, or his, felt
just like some beautiful song-waltz, and that he was altogether so happy
and jolly that he had sometimes to turn out in the middle watch to
laugh.
Peggy had not to do that.
In her little state-room on one side of the cabin, and in a hammock, she
slept as soundly as the traditional top, and on a grass mat on the deck,
with a footstool for a pillow, slumbered Beeboo.
Roland slept on the other side, and Brawn guarded the doorway at the
foot of the steps.
Long before Peggy was awake, and every morning of their aquatic lives,
the dinghy boat took the boys a little way out into mid-stream, and they
stripped and dived, enjoyed a two-minutes' splash, and got quickly on
board again.
The men always stood by with rifles to shoot any alligator that might be
seen hovering nigh, and more than once reckless Dick had a narrow
escape.
"But," he said one day in his comical way, "one has only once to die,
you know, and you might as well die doing a good turn as any other way."
"Doing a good turn?" said Roland enquiringly.
"Certainly. Do you not impart infinite joy to a cayman if you permit
him to eat you?"
The boys were always delightfully hungry half an hour before breakfast
was served.
And it was a breakfast too!
Beeboo would be dressed betimes, and have the cloth laid in the saloon.
The great raft rose and fell with a gentle motion, but there was nothing
to hurt, so that the dishes stuck on the cloth without any guard.
Beeboo could bake the most delicious of scones and cakes, and these,
served up hot in a clean white towel, were most tempting; the butter was
of the best and sweetest. Ham there was, and eggs of the gull, with
fresh fried fish every morning, and fragrant coffee.
Was it not quite idyllic?
The forenoon would be spent on deck under the awning; there was plenty
to talk about, and books to read, and there was the ever-varying
panorama to gaze upon, as the raft went smoothly gliding on, and on, and
on.
Sometimes they were in very deep water close to the bank, for men were
always in the chains taking soundings from the steamer's bows.
Close enough to admire the flowers that draped the forest trees; close
enough to hear the wild lilt of birds or the chattering of monkeys and
parrots; close enough to see tapirs moving among the trees, watched,
often enough, by the fierce sly eyes of ghastly alligators, that
flattened themselves against rocks or bits of clay soil, looking like a
portion of the ground, but warily waiting until they should see a chance
to attack.
There cannot be too many tapirs, and there cannot be too few alligators.
So our young heroes thought it no crime to shoot these squalid horrors
wherever seen.
But one forenoon clouds banked rapidly up in the southern sky, and soon
the sun was hidden in sulphurous rolling banks of cumulus.
No one who has ever witnessed a thunderstorm in these regions can live
long enough to forget it.
For some time before it came on the wind had gone down completely. In
yonder great forest there could not have been breeze or breath enough to
stir the pollen on the trailing flowers. The sun, too, seemed shorn of
its beams, the sky was no longer blue, but of a pale saffron or sulphur
colour.
It was then that giant clouds, like evil beasts bent on havoc and
destruction, began to show head above the horizon. Rapidly they rose,
battalion on battalion, phalanx on phalanx.
There were low mutterings even now, and flashes of fire in the far
distance. But it was not until the sky was entirely overcast that the
storm came on in dread and fearful earnest. At this time it was so
dark, that down in the raft saloon an open book was barely visible.
Then peal after peal, and vivid flash after flash, of blue and crimson
fire lit up forest and stream, striking our heroes and heroine blind, or
causing their eyes for a time to overrun with purple light.
So terrific was the thunder that the raft seemed to rock and shiver in
the sound.
This lasted for fully half an hour, the whole world seeming to be in
flames.
Peggy stood by Dick on the little deck, and he held her arm in his; held
her hand too, for it was cold and trembling.
"Are you afraid?" he whispered, during a momentary lull.
"No, Dick, not afraid, only cold, so cold; take me below."
He did so.
He made her lie down on the little sofa, and covered her with a rug.
All just in time, for now down came the awful rain. It was as if a
water-spout had broken over the seemingly doomed raft, and was sinking
it below the dark waters of the river.
Luckily the boys managed to batten down in time, or the little saloon
would have been flooded.
They lit the lamp, too.
But with the rain the storm seemed to increase in violence, and a strong
wind had arisen and added greatly to the terror of the situation. Hail
came down as large as marbles, and the roaring and din was now deafening
and terrible.
Then, the wind ceased to blow almost instantaneously. It did not die
away. It simply dropped all of a sudden. Hail and rain ceased shortly
after.
Dick ventured to peep on deck.
It was still dark, but far away and low down on the horizon a streak of
the brightest blue sky that ever he had seen had made its appearance.
It broadened and broadened as the dark canopy of clouds, curtain-like,
was lifted.
"Come up, Peggy. Come up, Rol. The storm is going. The storm has
almost gone," cried Dick; and soon all three stood once more on the
deck.
Away, far away over the northern woods rolled the last bank of clouds,
still giving voice, however, still spitting fire.
But now the sun was out and shining brightly down with a heat that was
fierce, and the raft was all enveloped in mist.
So dense, indeed, was the fog that rose from the rain-soaked raft, that
all the scenery was entirely obscured. It was a hot vapour, too, and
far from pleasant, so no one was sorry when Burly Bill suddenly appeared
from the lower part of the raft.
"My dear boys," he said heartily, "why, you'll be parboiled if you stop
here. Come with me, Miss Peggy, and you, Brawn; I'll come back for you,
lads. Don't want to upset the dinghy all among the 'gators, see?"
Bill was back again in a quarter of an hour, and the boys were also
taken on board the boat.
"She's a right smart little boat as ever was," said Bill; "but if we was
agoin' to get 'er lip on to the water, blow me tight, boys, if the
'gators wouldn't board us. They'm mebbe very nice sociable kind o'
animals, but bust my buttons if I'd like to enter the next world down a
'gator's gullet."
Beeboo did not mind the steam a bit, and by two o'clock she had as nice
a dinner laid in the raft saloon as ever boy or girl sat down to.
But by this time the timbers were dry once more, and although white
clouds of fog still lay over the low woods, all was now bright and
cheerful. Yet not more so than the hearts of our brave youngsters.
Courage and sprightliness are all a matter of strength of heart, and you
cannot make yourself brave if your system is below par. The coward is
really more to be pitied than blamed.
Well, it was very delightful, indeed, to sit on deck and talk, build
castles in the air, and dream daydreams.
The air was cool and bracing now, and the sun felt warm, but by no means
too hot.
The awning was prettily lined with green cloth, the work of Mrs. St.
Clair's own hands, assisted by the indefatigable Beeboo, and there was
not anything worth doing that she could not put willing, artful hands
to.
The awning was scalloped, too, if that be the woman's word for the flaps
that hung down a whole foot all round. "Vandyked" is perhaps more
correct, but then, you see, the sharp corners of the vandyking were all
rounded off. So I think scalloped must stand, though the word reminds
me strangely of oysters.
But peeping out from under the scalloped awning, and gazing northwards
across the sea-like river, boats under steam could be noticed.
Passengers on board too, both ladies and gentlemen, the former all
rigged out in summer attire.
"Would you like to be on board yonder?" said Dick to Peggy, as the girl
handed him back the lorgnettes.
"No, indeed, I shouldn't," she replied, with a saucy toss of her pretty
head.
"Well," she added, "if you were there, little Dickie, I mightn't mind it
so much."
"Little Dick! Eh?" Dick laughed right heartily now.
"Yes, little Dickie. Mind, I am nearly twelve; and after I'm twelve I'm
in my teens, quite an old girl. A child no longer anyhow. And after I'm
in my teens I'll soon be sixteen, and then I suppose I shall marry."
"Who will marry you, Peggy?"
This was not very good grammar, but Dick was in downright earnest
anyhow, and his young voice had softened wonderfully.
"Me?" he added, as she remained silent, with her eyes seeming to follow
the rolling tide.
"You, Dick! Why, you're only a child!"
"Why, Peggy, I'm fifteen--nearly, and if I live I'm bound to get older
and bigger."
"No, no, Dick, you can marry Beeboo, and I shall get spliced, as the
sailors call it, to Burly Bill."
The afternoon wore away, and Beeboo came up to summon "the chillun" to
tea.
Up they started, forgetting all about budding love, flirtation, and
future marriages, and made a rush for the companion-ladder.
"Wowff--wowff!" barked Brawn, and the 'gators on shore and the tapirs in
the woods lifted heads to listen, while parrots shrieked and monkeys
chattered and scolded among the lordly forest trees.
"Wowff--wowff!" he barked. "Who says cakes and butter?"
The night fell, and Burly Bill came on board with his banjo, and his
great bass voice, which was as sweet as the tone of a 'cello.
Bill was funnier than usual to-night, and when Beeboo brought him a big
tumbler of rosy rum punch, made by herself and sweetened with honey, he
was merrier still.
Then to complete his happiness Beeboo lit his pipe.
She puffed away at it for some time as usual, by way of getting it in
working order.
"'Spose," she said, "Beeboo not warm de bowl ob de big pipe plenty
proper, den de dear chile Bill take a chill."
"You're a dear old soul, Beeb," said Bill.
Then the dear old soul carefully wiped the amber mouth-piece with her
apron, and handed Burly Bill his comforter.
The great raft swayed and swung gently to and fro, so Bill sang his pet
sea-song, "The Rose of Allandale". He was finishing that bonnie verse--
"My life had been a wilderness,
Unblest by fortune's gale,
Had fate not linked my lot to hers,
The Rose of Allandale",
when all at once an ominous grating was heard coming from beneath the
raft, and motion ceased as suddenly as did Bill's song.
"Save us from evil!" cried Bill. "The raft is aground!"