DOWN THE RIVER.
The time passed pleasantly to Stephen as he reclined on a heap of skins
and blankets watching the forests that bordered the stream, or looking up
through the overhanging canopy at the birds and monkeys, the latter of
which afforded him great amusement by the way in which they chattered and
gesticulated. The mothers with the little ones climbed to the top of the
trees, while the males came boldly out on the lower branches to bid
defiance to those in the boat. Often he slept, for the heat, and the
almost noiseless fall of the paddles, and the tranquil easy motion of the
canoe made him exceptionally drowsy. One day his eye fell upon something
on a large branch of a tree that bent down to within twelve feet of the
water. It was only some ten yards ahead when he noticed it. It was partly
hidden by foliage, and for a moment it seemed to him to be a thickening of
the branch. He would have passed it without a thought had it not been for
a slight movement; then a glance showed him that it was an animal of some
kind lying almost flattened upon the tree.
He caught up his rifle just as it rose to a crouching attitude, and was
upon the point of springing upon Pita. The gun was loaded with shot only,
but as he threw up the muzzle and fired almost instantly, the beast gave a
terrible roar. Its spring was arrested, and it fell headlong into the
water within a foot of the side of the boat. A tawny head, with two rows
of big white teeth, arose from the water almost abreast of him, and a
great paw was raised to strike at the boat, but Hurka’s rifle cracked out,
and the animal sank again below the water.
“You have saved my life, señor,” Pita said gravely. “It was a jaguar, and
had you not fired it would have struck me down and crushed in my skull
with a blow of its paw. I wonder I did not see it, but I was thinking at
the time that we had best tie up for an hour or two so as to pass the next
village, which is a large one, after dark.”
“It was almost hidden among those leaves,” Stephen said, “and had it not
moved I should not have noticed it.”
[Illustration: “THE ANIMAL WAS ON THE POINT OF SPRINGING WHEN STEPHEN
FIRED.”]
“I think you blinded it, señor,” Hurka said. “I saw it rise to spring, and
snatched at my rifle just as you fired. I think the charge struck it
between the eyes, for I saw a sort of blur there just as it fell. I should
have been too late; for though I might have hit it as it was in the air,
it would assuredly have come down on Pita.
“It was not like you, Pita. This comes of thinking while you are paddling
instead of keeping your eyes on everything.”
“I was wrong,” the Indian replied. “I should have known that an attack by
a jaguar was always possible; but this is the first that we have seen
since starting, and I had no thought of danger in my mind. I will be more
careful in the future. It must have been well hidden, for you did not see
it yourself, Hurka, until it moved for its spring.”
“That is true,” the little Indian replied. “The Englishman’s eyes must be
quick indeed, and his nerve steady. It was seeing him catch up his gun
that first called my attention to it. You have laid us both under a great
obligation, señor, for Pita is my best friend, and were aught to befall
him I should feel that I had lost part of myself. Perhaps before the
journey comes to an end we may be able to show you how grateful we are.”
“It is nothing worth talking about,” Stephen said. “In a journey like
this, comrades may well save each other’s lives more than once.”
“That is true, señor; but it is our duty to save your life if need be, and
it is turning the tables upon us for you to be the means of saving ours.
However, you will not find us lacking when the time comes. Already we have
agreed that this time of all others we must carry our business through
successfully. You are not like those Spaniards. To them we are Indian
dogs, mere dust under their feet, a people whose services they buy as they
buy those of our mules; but you have treated us as if we had been comrades
of the same colour as you yourself, have insisted upon our eating with
you, and have talked with us as if we were friends together; and you will
find that it is so if danger arises. We Indians are not accustomed to
kindness or consideration from our Spanish masters. Could they do without
us they would not suffer an Indian to exist in the land; but they need our
labour, and so bear with us. But we, on our part, never forget that our
ancestors were lords of this country, that they received these white
strangers with kindness, and were repaid by the grossest treachery and
ingratitude, and that, not contented with seizing our land and our
possessions, they murdered all our princes and leaders, and reduced all
whom they did not slay to slavery, keeping us only that we might work the
mines and till the fields for them.
“Centuries have passed since then, but there has been no change; they are
still our masters, we their beasts of burden. They may pay us for our
services, but they have no thought or consideration for us. We may risk
our lives for them, but they value ours no more than if we were dogs. Save
among the muleteers, like Gomez, who long ago ceased to be Spaniards, and
are now Peruvians, they look upon us as a conquered race, and as to
friendship or a kindly thought for an Indian, they think more of their
dogs than they do of us. Therefore, señor, you may guess that Pita and I
do not feel towards you only as a master who pays us, but as one who has
treated us as if we were the same colour as himself, and even the service
you have rendered Pita binds us less to you than the kindness that you
have shown us. If all Englishmen are like you it would be a blessing
indeed to this country if, after your famous admiral had driven out the
Spaniards, he would himself reign over the land and bring some of his
people here to govern us.
“The white Peruvians are no better than the Spaniards. They are the same
blood, and have the same ideas, and save that they are cowards, while the
Spaniards, to do them justice, are often brave, there is little to choose
between them. They are as proud of their white blood, and they despise us
as heartily; they are as greedy of gold, but too indolent to work for it;
and when the Spaniards have gone they will be despots as hard and as
tyrannical as our present governors. We hope for the change, though we
know well that it will do but little for us; while, if the people of your
race came as masters of the land, we might have some share of freedom and
happiness. Tales have reached even us that across the western ocean you
rule over a people dark like ourselves, but infinitely more numerous than
we were when the Spaniards first set foot here; and that your rule is a
good and just one, and that the natives are happy and contented, and that
there are the same laws for them as for us. Do you think, señor, that
there is any chance of your admiral and your people coming here?”
“I am afraid not, Hurka. We English here are in the service of Chili. We
are free ourselves, and our sympathies are with all men who are struggling
to be free; but we have no idea of conquest here, and were Peru to offer
to come under our rule we should not accept it. We have already wide
possessions in North America and elsewhere, and need no further
territories, especially in a climate that is unfitted for us. We might
rule it as we do India, but the Peruvians would never be contented, and we
should never attempt to keep them in subjection did they wish us gone.
India, the country you speak of, is inhabited by many races and religions.
Before we went, there were incessant wars, and were we to leave they would
at once recommence. The people, then, feel that our rule is a real
benefit, and that they are far happier under it than they were under their
native rulers. When we went there we had no thought of conquering it; we
only went there to trade. It was because we were attacked that we defended
ourselves, and there are still portions of the country that are altogether
independent, and so long as the native sovereigns leave us alone we are
well contented that things should remain as they are. We do not enrich
ourselves at the expense of the natives. They have to pay taxes to keep up
the expenses of the army and administration there, but England draws no
revenue from India. It does not, as Spain did, enrich itself with the
plunder of the land; and it is free to people of all nations to trade
there as we do ourselves. Individuals may gain wealth there by commerce,
or by the growth of indigo and other things that we cannot raise at home,
but as a nation we obtain no revenue whatever from India. The army there
is for the most part raised from the people, who are free to enlist or not
as they please, and who fight as faithfully for us as they would have done
for their own rulers.”
“Then what do you gain by being there?” Hurka asked.
“We gain in the trade that is carried on by our merchants selling English
goods there, and buying Indian produce. The army and the civil government
furnish employment to large numbers of Englishmen. These are the only
material advantages that, so far as I know, we gain; although of course it
is a matter of pride and satisfaction to Englishmen that they rule over so
great a country, and that our presence there is of enormous advantage to
the people.”
“And are there no gold or silver mines there?” Pita asked.
“No; at any rate nothing that has been worked since we went there.”
“Ah, if you would but come here,” Hurka exclaimed, “what a blessing it
would be to us! and I am sure that the Indians, when they knew that they
would be fairly treated, would no longer preserve the secrets of the
Incas, but would gladly open to you mines that have been hidden ever since
the Spaniards came, and hand over vast treasures that have been left
untouched all these years. They are useless to them, and are hidden only
because they hate the Spaniards, and know that did they discover these
mines they would compel the people to work at them as their fathers did;
and ere long we should disappear altogether.”
While they had been talking they had floated quietly down the stream, and
Pita said that they were now but a few miles from the next village, and
had better tie up until darkness came on.
“Have you any desire for gold, señor?” Hurka asked, after they had secured
the canoe to an overhanging branch, and the two Indians had rolled and
lighted their cigarettes.
“Not particularly, Hurka. I suppose everyone would like gold; but I have
already enough to live upon, having been very fortunate in aiding to
capture a vessel carrying a large sum for the payment of the Spanish
troops. If I were to search for gold it would be rather for the sake of
the adventure than for the treasure.”
“You are the first white man I have ever met, señor, who would not
undertake any risk in order to gain a fortune, and the richest are as
ready to adventure their gold in any enterprise that promises even a
chance of success, as the poorest are willing to risk their lives.”
“The adventure itself would be very exciting,” Stephen said, “and I do not
say that I should not like to take part in one, just as I am glad to have
the chance of such an adventure as going down the Amazon; but it would
certainly be the excitement, and not the chance of making money, that
would attract me. I don’t say for a moment that I should refuse a share in
the treasure, only that I would not run any great risks for the sake of
the treasure alone. I suppose that every one could do with more than he
has; for even if you have nothing to wish for, it would at least be a
pleasure to give it away.
“I have been fortunate; although I am still very young. I have been
through a great many adventures, and if I were to settle quietly down at
home now, I have more to look back upon than most men.”
Day after day they floated down, sometimes on a broad tranquil sheet with
a scarce perceptible current, and at others in a rapid headlong stream
pent up between narrow banks. The volume of water had vastly increased
since they started, owing to the number of streams that had flowed into
the Beni, some of these being so large that they would be considered
good-sized rivers in Europe. At last, a month after starting, Hurka said
that next day they would reach the confluence of the Beni and the Madeira.
“There is a mission-station there, and if the señor likes to pause there
for a day or two before descending the river he can do so.”
“Not at all, Hurka. In the first place I shall be asked a great many
questions which would be difficult to answer, and in the second, even two
days in a mission-station would be frightfully dull.”
“Very well, señor, then we will pass straight into the river and halt a
few hours’ journey further down.”
“Why should we halt at all?”
“We shall want to construct a raft, señor. There are many dangerous rapids
in the Madeira besides the falls, and the river is beginning to rise. You
were noticing yesterday how thick the water had become, and some of the
streams that run into it are laden with mud. That shows that the rain has
begun on the western slopes. The Madeira is generally in flood two days
before the Beni, and the water will be running down in a great stream;
therefore it will be necessary to make our raft. We need not desert the
canoe, but can let it float alongside of us, or we can haul it on to the
raft; it will be convenient for sleeping in.”
“We had better land at once and make our raft,” Pita said, “before we
reach the Madeira. I know of no high bank for a very long distance after
we have entered the great river where we could manage it.”
“Then by all means let us do so at once,” Stephen said, “and perhaps we
may get some sport.”
Accordingly the boat was headed towards shore. When they reached the side
they found that the Beni itself had risen, and the bank, usually seven or
eight feet out of water, was now little more than a foot above its level.
“You may get some birds,” Hurka said, “but nothing else. The instinct of
the beasts tells them that the river is nearly full, and doubtless indeed
the low-lying parts of the forest are already submerged. They will be off
before this, and will travel on till they come to ground that is always
above the floods. Some will, doubtless, be caught and perish. Such as
climb will take to trees, but hunger will destroy them.”
“How far do the floods extend?”
“In some places a hundred miles, and on the Amazon itself, as I have
heard, a great deal further.”
They paddled along close to the bank until they reached a spot where it
was bordered by a vast number of reeds, many of them as thick as Stephen’s
arm.
“Now we are going to make our raft,” Hurka said. “These reeds are far
better than solid branches. They are very light, and we fasten them but
loosely together, so that they can give to the water. When we have made
it, we shall then want four young saplings. These we shall lash together
firmly in a square, and under each corner we fasten the skins, and one
also in the middle of each pole; you know we have brought eight with us.
First we make the raft itself with the rushes. It is made about four feet
larger each way than the frame with the skins. This frame is laid in the
raft, and is fastened loosely to it. Thus you see the raft itself is
complete without the poles and skins, which, so long as it holds together,
simply rest on it, but if the raft gets broken up the skins will support
the poles. We generally lash a few cross poles to the frame, and on these
we sit, for the water splashes up between the reeds, making everything
wet. As we are going to take our canoe with us, we shall not want the
cross poles, but shall lay her on the reeds and get on board her. We shall
pick out the largest reeds we can get to place under the spot where she
will lie, and shall only get out of the boat when it is necessary to go to
the front or sides of the raft to pole her off from any floating tree or
other danger.”
It took them two days to complete the raft, the second day’s work being
carried on afloat, for the stream rose very rapidly. The lashings of the
reeds were of leather thongs, so tied that while they were held firmly in
their places there was a great deal of play, an advantage that Stephen
discovered as soon as they were afloat again on the stream. The rapidity
with which the river was running raised it in a series of sharp waves, and
a rigid raft would have had one end or the other constantly immersed. The
raft, however, undulated with the water almost as a carpet of the same
size would have done, the lashings of the buoyant reeds permitting each
side to rise and fall, while the structure upon it lifted or fell with the
motion. The canoe half floated and was half supported by the raft below
it, and Stephen was surprised to find how slight the motion was even in
the broken water. Presently the two Indians left the canoe, and seating
themselves on the poles, paddled towards the shore to the left, and
getting out of the current made their way along the edge of the forest.
“We are close now,” Hurka said, “to the Madeira, and the struggle of the
two swollen rivers will raise a turmoil so great that even this raft might
break up in the waves.”
This Stephen could well believe when the canoe reached the angle where the
rivers joined. The width was nearly two miles, and the scene presented the
appearance of the sea in a violent gale, except that it was a chaos
without order or regularity. The cross currents seemed to crash against
each other, hurling the spray many yards in the air. Waves leapt up in
conical form as if lifted bodily from below. The position of the centre of
the stream changed continually as one current or the other gained the
mastery. Here and there were whirlpools and eddies that would have
engulfed an ordinary boat in a moment. The whole was white with foam.
“It is like a huge boiling pot,” Stephen said as he watched it.
“No boat ever made could live in it,” Hurka said. “I have seen boats on
the great waves that break on the coast, but there was an order in the
waves, and those skilled in the work could wait their opportunity and come
in on the top of one of them. Here all is confusion, and a boat would be
thrown into the air by one of those suddenly rising lumps of water, and if
caught between two of the waves would be crushed like a shell. No one
would think of descending the river when the Beni and the Madeira are in
flood, except by doing as we are doing now, keeping in the dead-water, or,
if in canoes, making their way through the submerged forests. But even
this would be hazardous work, for the canoe might be torn by unseen boughs
below the surface of the water. Therefore at times like these, most men
wait until the floods have abated, unless they are in a great hurry, and
this is seldom, for neither Indians nor Peruvians are ever in haste about
anything.
“The greatest danger to inexperienced travellers is that of being lost in
the forest. Many streams come in, and when the water is very high it is
difficult to know whether one is crossing a tract denuded of wood or one
of the many channels of the river; and once lost in the forest a
traveller’s fate is sealed, for the current there is insufficient to
enable him to judge in which direction is the main river, for he may be in
a back eddy or in the current from a cross channel. The trees are so
interlaced with creepers that every foot of the way has to be cut, while
among the foliage are snakes of all kinds, from the great boas to the
little tree snakes, a bite from which causes death in a few minutes. There
too are starving jaguars, leopards, and wild cats, who, once they get over
the terror caused by the inundation, are all on the look-out for food.
Amidst all these enemies the inexperienced traveller speedily loses his
presence of mind and even his reason.
“Once when I was going down this very river we heard a noise of wild
laughter, intermingled with strange piercing cries. We knew at once that
it was a traveller lost in the forest. It took us two hours to cut our way
to the spot where we heard the sounds. We guessed who were the sufferers.
Two Spaniards had hired a large canoe, and had taken with them six village
boatmen. They had refused my offer to go with four men of my tribe who
were accustomed to the river and its dangers, as we demanded a much higher
sum than the villagers were ready to go for, and we said when we saw them
put off that they would never get down to the mission. When we reached the
spot one man was lying dead at the bottom of the canoe. One of the
Spaniards and one of the villagers were missing, having no doubt leapt
overboard in their madness. The others were all raving madmen, some with
scarce strength to raise themselves in the boat, others making the
dreadful laughing and screaming that we had heard.
“When they saw us they took us, I believe, for devils, and it was not
until we had lassoed the strongest that we were able to overpower them. We
bound them and laid them at the bottom of our canoe and took them down to
the mission, which was some fifty miles below us. I was told afterwards
that only one of them ever recovered his senses; the others either died
raving or were hopelessly mad. From the one who recovered it was learned
that as soon as they came to the point where the stream became rapid they
made for the edge of the forest. At night they tied up their canoe to a
tree, but in the morning when they awoke they found that the line had
become untied, and that they had drifted into the forest. There they had
been three days when we found them. They had lost all idea of direction,
and had we been a few hours later the last voice would have been silenced,
and when the flood subsided the canoe and its occupants would have rotted
away, and no one would ever have known the fate that had befallen them.”
“How do you find your way through a flooded forest, Hurka?”
“It is born in us as it is born in birds to make their way back to their
nests. It may be that a careful examination would show that the trunks on
one side are more thickly covered with creepers than the other; but we do
not need to take notice of such things, or if we notice them it is without
knowing it, as we are sure of our direction. We have seen Spanish
travellers who had the things with which they said they could direct their
course at sea, with a card that goes round and round, and always when it
is steady points in one direction. This is no doubt very useful out on the
plains or in a forest where there are no obstacles, but here where the
woods are intercepted by numberless streams and with wide swamps, such a
machine is useless to any one unless he is intimately acquainted with the
country and the course of the streams. Even Indian dwellers on the shores
of the river often, in the times of floods, get lost in the forest and
lose their lives, so changed is the aspect of everything by the water.”
“It must be terrible,” Stephen said, as he glanced between the trunks of
the trees at the still, dark water under the thick canopy. “Of course the
sun must be a help.”
“We do not often see the sun in times of flood, señor. Rain often falls
very heavily, and even when it does not do so there is, you see, a mist in
the air rising from this vast expanse of water. Besides, it is only when
it is directly overhead that the sun’s rays penetrate the foliage, and at
that time it is too high for the shadows to afford much guidance. Among
us, three shots of a gun at regular intervals is a call for aid, but in
flood time it is a useless one, for the Indians, like the wild beasts, all
leave, save when their huts are on eminences, and the chances of the shots
being heard by human ears are small indeed. To one lost in the forest at
other times it is all but certain death, but when the floods are out a man
would do wisely to fire the first shot into his own head.”
Day after day they travelled on, keeping just far enough out to get the
benefit of the current without allowing themselves to be drawn towards the
centre of the river. Even this at times was very difficult, especially
when they were passing round curves, for much of the water, instead of
following the channel, made its way through the forest to the next bend in
the river, and they had the greatest difficulty in preventing themselves
from being drawn in among the trees by the current. At such times they
were forced to launch the canoe overboard, to roll up the bottom of the
raft, and to lay the great bundle of rushes across the poles now supported
by the inflated skins. Only then by vigorous paddling, in which Stephen
bore his part, were they able to tow this behind them across the current
until they reached a point where the force of the stream was confined to
the regular channel. At one point, where the river was broader than usual
and the current in consequence slower, they crossed to the other bank.
“We are getting near the rapids now,” Hurka said, “and this bank is the
least dangerous of the two. Hitherto we have had nothing but the force of
the stream to contend with, but now we shall have rocks. It is for this
that we constructed the raft. Up to now we should have done far better to
have come down in the canoe alone, but, once among the rocks, a touch
would break her up, while the raft can scrape against them without injury.
You will see that the aspect of things will change altogether; the banks
where the rapids are, are high and steep, and the inundations will cease
for a time. Once beyond the falls we shall again be in a flat country, and
the inundations will extend almost all the way down until we reach the
Amazon.”
“There is no way of avoiding the rapids, I suppose?” Stephen asked.
“None but by getting out and carrying everything round. At the falls this
has to be done, there are no other means of passing them. In some respects
it is safer to go down the rapids now than it is in the dry season, for
the greater portion of the rocks are far below the surface, and we shall
pass over small falls without even noticing them.”
The days as a rule passed pleasantly enough, save where the voyagers had
to work against cross currents, but at night, when they tied up to a tree,
the noise was prodigious. The howling and roaring of wild beasts was
incessant. Monkeys chattered in terror, and occasionally an almost human
scream proclaimed that one of them had been seized by a snake, or some
other enemy. The hissing of reptiles could at times be distinctly heard,
and Stephen often thought that he could hear their movements in the boughs
above him.
At length they approached the rapids, and the stream became still more
impetuous. The Indians had cut long poles, and as they drifted down one
stood at each corner of the raft, using their poles occasionally as
paddles to keep it straight. Stephen remained in the canoe in the centre.
He would gladly have shared in any work that was to be done, but here he
felt that he could be of no use.
“To-morrow we shall be in the full force of the rapids, señor,” Hurka
said. “I should advise you to lay yourself down in the bottom of the canoe
and to pass the day in sleep. It will be safer so should there be an
accident, for, with your weight at the bottom, the canoe will be more
likely to keep upright than it otherwise would. You cannot aid us, and the
speed at which we shall do the next hundred miles will be great indeed. In
eight hours we shall be at the foot of the rapids.”
“I will sit down at the bottom of the canoe, but I must see what is going
on. I am accustomed to the aspect of a sea in a violent gale, and this
great body of water, however fast it rushes, will not be more trying to
the nerves than such a scene as that. There is one thing that I should
wish you to do. Let each tie a light rope round his waist and fasten the
other end to the canoe, and then if the raft does go to pieces you will be
able to get on board, and at any rate, if she upsets we shall be
together.”
“We will do it if you wish, señor, but there would be danger of our
capsizing the canoe.”
“Not so much danger as there would be of the canoe upsetting if I were
alone in it, for I should be powerless even to keep her straight, and she
would go broadside on to a rock and be dashed to pieces.”
“The señor is right, Hurka,” Pita said gravely; “we will do as he wishes.
But the ropes must be long, so that if we are flung off the raft there
will be no sudden pull on the canoe. Should there be such a misfortune I
will shout to you, and we will then swim towards the boat, taking up the
ropes as we go, but putting no strain upon them; when we reach the boat,
one will aid the señor to steady it while the other climbs in; after that
it will be easier to get the second on board.”
“You still think that it is better to make a passage than to carry the
whole kit and the canoe over?”
“It would take many weeks, señor. Besides, though I have never been here
before, I have heard that the difficulties are so great that the river
Indians never attempt to carry even a light canoe over. I am at your
service, señor, and am willing to try if you give the order, but I have
been told by Indians that when the river is, as now, in flood, the danger
is by no means great. Of course, we shall keep out of the full strength of
the current.”
Accordingly they started the next morning, and an hour after setting out
were in the sweep of the rapids. The passage was an intensely exciting
one. The Indians stood, paddle in hand, one at each corner of the front of
the raft; their poles lay ready to snatch up in case any rock was
approached, but the paddles were needed to keep the raft from being
dragged out into the full force of the current. Here the water rose in
steep ridges, and had the raft got among these it would have been torn to
pieces almost instantly. At the same time it was desirable not to go too
near the shore, as the risk from submerged rocks would be greater there.
But Stephen saw that unless rocks came absolutely above the surface they
would be swept over them, as the raft drew but two or three inches of
water. Except in the middle, the stream rushed along with a surface broken
only by tiny eddies. It was only by seeing how they flew past the banks
that any idea could be formed of the speed at which they were travelling.
In eight hours it was over. Several times the paddlers had to exert
themselves to the utmost to avoid spots where great swells of water showed
that there were rocks below the surface, but on no occasion did the
Indians have to use their poles. The bed of the river widened sharply at
the foot of the rapids, and just as Stephen congratulated himself that the
passage had been safely made, he saw by an increase in the labour of the
Indians that something was wrong. Standing up in the canoe he perceived
that they had been shot out of the current into the back-water formed by
the sudden widening of the stream, and that in this back-water was a very
strong eddy sweeping round and round in a circle. This was about a hundred
yards in diameter, with a depression in the centre, and round this the
raft was carried at a rate that defied the efforts of the two paddlers to
check.
At one moment they were within twenty yards of a flat forest-covered
shore, and the next were near the edge of the torrent pouring down the
rapids. In vain the paddlers tried to edge the raft out little by little
from the whirlpool. Not only was the current too strong for them, but its
surface was dotted with floating logs and branches of trees that, like
themselves, coursed round and round. As long as all were travelling at the
same rate and in the same direction the danger of a collision was
comparatively slight, but more than once when the rowers succeeded in
gaining a short distance towards the outside edge of the whirlpool, they
were forced to desist suddenly and paddle straight with the current, to
avoid a great log bearing down upon them.
Pita took a lariat from the canoe and prepared to throw it, so as to catch
one of the branches when they neared the shore. He tried several times,
but the distance was too great; and indeed it was necessary to catch the
trees at some little distance before reaching the point opposite to them,
in order to pull diagonally across the current, for a jerk when the canoe
was at right angles would have torn the raft to pieces.
“Could we launch the canoe and paddle out of the whirlpool in that?”
Stephen said.
“We might do that,” Hurka replied, “but a touch from any of these logs
would sink her in a moment; and besides, we should be sorry to lose the
raft, for we have no skins to make floats, and the rushes of which we
constructed it only grow in the quiet waters of the upper river. We might
take to the canoe as a last resource, but we should be very loth to do
it.”
“How long would the lariats be, tied together, with that piece of thin
rope you brought to check the raft in dangerous places?”
“The rope is a hundred and fifty yards long, señor, the lariats reach
about thirty yards.”
“That would be plenty,” Stephen said. “My idea is that you might fasten
the end of the rope to an arrow and shoot it among the trees. It might not
catch the first time, but no doubt it would after a few trials. The rope
will, of course, be coiled up so as to pay out easily, and we could pull
it in or pay it out as we went round and round. Each time as we approach
the shore, we could pull on it a little and edge the raft a few feet out,
slackening out again as we came to the nearest point to the trees. If
there were any logs in our way of course we should not pull; thus, by
choosing our opportunity, we might get her out little by little till we
are outside the full force of the stream.”
The Indians did not quite understand Stephen’s plan, but at once agreed to
try it. Pita chose his heaviest arrow and lashed the end of the rope
firmly to it, close to the feathers. Stephen knotted the lariats to the
rope, and coiled them up so that they would run out easily, and they then
prepared for the first attempt.
[Illustration: PITA TRIES STEPHEN’S PLAN IN ORDER TO ESCAPE FROM THE
WHIRLPOOL.]