THE GUACO AND THE CORAL SNAKE.
It was Guapo himself that killed the llamas, and, having skinned them,
he cut the flesh into thin strips, and hung it upon the branches to dry
in the sun. This, of course, was necessary, as they had no salt to cure
it with; but meat well dried under a hot sun will keep good for a long
time. It is curious, that in all Spanish-American countries they
preserve most of their meat in this way, whereas in North America, among
the people of our own race, "jerked beef" (for that is the name we give
it) is very rare.
Now, in Spanish-America there are vast depositories of salt--both in
mines and on plains, with salt lakes--called _salinas_; yet, for want of
a proper commercial activity existing among these people, in many places
the valuable article, salt, is both scarce and dear. In Mexico dried or
"jerked" beef is called "tasajo." In Peru, as we have stated, it is
"charqui;" but mutton cured in this way is distinguished by the name
"chalona." Now as the llamas are a species of sheep, it was "chalona"
that Guapo was making out of their mutton.
The others were not idle; Don Pablo, assisted by Leon, was clearing a
place on which they intended to build the house, while the Doña Isidora,
with her soft slender fingers (for the first time in her life, perhaps),
was acting as laundress, and the little Leona assisted her as much as
she was able. Where did they get their soap, for they had not brought so
much as a single cake along with them?
But Don Pablo was too good a botanist not to know the nature of the
trees that grew around, and the uses to which they could be applied.
Near by grew a curious tree, which is known among the Indians as the
_parapara_. It was the soap-berry of botanists and Don Pablo knew that
the bark of the berries, when rubbed, produces a lather that will wash
linen equal to the best "Castile." Doña Isidora was not long in making a
trial of it, and found this to be true. The little round stones of the
berries, when cleared of the pulp, are very pretty, and are much used by
the missionaries in making rosaries. Leon found, dropping one of them on
a stone, that it was as elastic as a ball of India rubber, for it
rebounded several times the height of a man's head!
In the evening they all rested from their various occupations, and
seated themselves upon the new-cleared ground, upon the trunk of a tree
that had been felled. They were one and all quite cheerful. They felt no
more apprehension of pursuit. It would have been a very revengeful
enemy, indeed, who would have followed them so far into the wilderness.
They had no fear of that. Doña Isidora had just cooked a kettle of
coffee--they had both pots and kettles, for these were some of the
utensils with which Guapo, even in the hurry of flight, had taken the
precaution to load his llamas.
This coffee turned out to be of the finest quality. It was of a peculiar
species, which has long been cultivated by the missionaries of Peru, and
which yields a very high price. It used to be sent by the viceroys as a
valued present to the kings of Spain. To sweeten the coffee some joints
of sugar-cane had been crushed, and boiled in a rough manner; and for
bread they had roasted plantains. During the repast they were all quite
merry, and pleasant jokes were passed for the first time in many days.
While thus engaged a singular sound fell upon their ears. It was like a
voice repeating the word "Guaco!" They all listened. "Guaco--Guaco!"
again came the voice.
"Hola!" cried Leon, "Guapo--Guapo! there's some one calling you, Guapo.
There again!--no--it's 'Guaco'--listen! Guaco--Guaco' What is it, I
wonder?"
"That's the snake-bird," quietly answered Guapo, who, it must be
remembered, was a native of the Montaña, and knew a great deal both
about the birds and beasts of these regions.
"The snake-bird?" exclaimed Leon, evidently interested in the name.
"Yes, young master!" replied Guapo; "look! yonder it goes!"
The eyes of all were instantly turned in the direction pointed out by
Guapo. There sure enough was a bird, not much larger than a common
pigeon, but which had all the appearance of a sparrow-hawk. It was
"swallow-tailed," however, and this, with its peculiar form and the
manner of its flight, showed that it was one of the kite-hawks. When
first noticed, it was perched upon the top of a high tree, but it soon
flew to another not so high, uttering as it went, the "Guaco--Guaco!" It
then pitched itself to a still lower branch, and was evidently after
something which none of the party could see. That something, however,
soon became apparent. The ground had been cleared in a broad track down
to the water's edge, and near the middle of the open space an object was
observed in motion, making towards the weeds. That object was a snake.
It was not a large one--not more than three feet in length--and its
beautiful body, variegated with bands of black, red, and bright yellow,
glistened as it moved. Its predominating colour was a fleshy red, or
coral, from whence it has its name, for both Don Pablo and Guapo, as
soon as they saw it, pronounced it the "coral snake." Beautiful as it
appeared, all knew that it was one of the most poisonous of
serpents--one of the most dreaded of South American reptiles.
The first thought of Guapo and Leon was to spring up, seize upon some
weapon, and kill the creature. Don Pablo, however, restrained them.
"Stay where you are," said he; "be patient; we shall have a scene. Look
at the hawk,--see!"
As Don Pablo spoke, the guaco, which had hopped down to the lowest
branches of a neighbouring tree, swooped suddenly at the snake,
evidently aiming to clutch it around the neck. The latter, however, had
been too quick, and coiling itself, like a flash of lightning darted its
head out towards the bird in a threatening manner. Its eyes sparkled
with rage, and their fiery glitter could be seen even at many yards
distance.
The bird diverged from its course, and after passing the snake, turned
and swooped again from the opposite direction. But the reptile had
shifted its body so as to meet the attack, and its threatening head once
more was reared high above its coiled body. The guaco was foiled a
second time.
This second failure seemed to enrage the bird, as it turned at shorter
intervals, and apparently losing all fear, fluttered over the reptile,
striking both with beak and claws. The latter still kept in its coil,
but its head moved hastily from side to side, so as always to "show
front" to its active antagonist.
After this play had continued for some time, the snake was seen to draw
in its head farther than usual, and the hawk, evidently somewhat off his
guard, deeming this a fair opportunity, pounced forward to seize it. But
he was met half way. The head of the serpent shot forward like a rapier,
and reached his breast. The hawk felt that he was wounded; and uttering
a wild scream, he flew suddenly away.
All eyes watched him as he flew off, expecting that he would fall--for
the bite of the coral snake will kill even a man in a few minutes, and a
bird or small animal in much less time. It is not correct to say that
all of them expected to see him fall. Guapo, from experience, knew
better, and even Don Pablo, as a naturalist, had heard a strange account
of this singular bird, and was curious to witness the result. The hawk,
therefore, was narrowly watched.
It flew directly for a tree, up against the trunk of which, and clinging
to its branches, grew a parasite or creeping plant. The latter was of
the thickness of a willow rod, with long slender leaves, of a dark green
colour. The bird did not alight upon the top of the tree, but on a
branch where it could reach the leaves of the creeper, which it began
immediately to pluck and devour. In a short while it had eaten as many
as a dozen of these long leaves, when it again took to wing, and flew
back in the direction of the snake.
All had, for the moment, forgotten the snake, in their eagerness to
watch the movements of the bird. To their astonishment the reptile was
still in the same place, and coiled up as when last seen. This was
easily explained, however, as snakes who defend themselves in that
attitude usually remain coiled, until they are certain that their enemy
has gone away and will not return to the attack.
The contest was now renewed with redoubled fury. The bird fought with
fresh courage, knowing that he had taken precautions against a fatal
result, while the snake defended itself with the energy of despair. This
time the battle was a short one. The guaco, using its wings, succeeded
in striking its antagonist upon the upraised head, and quickly following
up the blow, planted his talons so as to encircle the throat of his
victim. The effect of his gripe was instantly apparent. The reptile
unfolded itself, and the slender coral body was seen writhing and
twisting along the ground. But it did not remain long upon the ground,
for in a few moments the guaco rose into the air, and carried the
struggling victim into the woods to devour it at his leisure.
Now Guapo was exceedingly pleased at what had occurred. Why? It was not
because such a scene was at all new to him. No; he had often witnessed
such, and was no longer curious upon that head. It was something more
than mere curiosity that moved Guapo. When the affair was over, he rose
from his seat, and stalking off to the place where the bird had been
seen to eat the leaves, he gathered a quantity of them, and then
returned to the fire. Don Pablo recognised them as the leaves of a plant
of the genus _Mikania_, and known popularly as the "vejuco de guaco."
Guapo knew nothing of the scientific designation of the plant, but he
had long ago been taught the valuable properties of its leaves as an
antidote against the bite of the most poisonous snakes. He had known
them to cure the bite of the cascabel (_rattle-snake_), and even of the
small spotted viper, the most poisonous of all the American snakes.
What, then, did Guapo with the leaves of the vejuco? First, he chopped
them up as fine as he could, and then, tying them tightly in a piece of
cotton cloth, he expressed from them a quantity of juice--enough for his
purpose. That done, with the point of a knife he made small incisions
between his toes, and also upon his breast and fingers. Into each of
these incisions, even while the blood was flowing from them, he dropped
the juice of the Mikania, and rubbed it in with fresh leaves of the
plant itself; and then, with some tufts of the soft floss of the
silk-cotton tree he covered the incisions, so as to stop the bleeding.
He wound up this strange performance, by chewing some of the leaves, and
swallowing about a spoonful of the juice. This made the "inoculation"
complete, and Guapo, as he himself declared, was now invulnerable to the
bite of the most venomous serpent!
He offered to "inoculate" the others in the same way. They at first
refused--Don Pablo among the rest--but after a day or two, when each of
the party had met with several narrow escapes from vipers, coral snakes,
and the much-dreaded "jararaca," Don Pablo thought it prudent that all
should submit to the operation, and accordingly Guapo "doctored" the
party without more ado.