THE RAFT.
This was the most exciting day that had been passed since their arrival
in the Montaña; and considering the result it was well that the
occurrence had taken place. It had rid them of a pair of bad
neighbours--there would soon have been four--that some time or other
would have endangered the lives of some of the party. It was the opinion
of Guapo that they need not, at least for a while, have any fear of
jaguars. It was not likely there was another pair in that district;
although, from the roaming disposition of this animal, fresh ones might
soon make their appearance; and it was deemed best always to act as
though some were already in the neighbourhood.
The cubs were disposed of. It was not deemed advisable to bring them up
as "cats." After what had occurred that was voted, even by Leon, a
dangerous experiment--too dangerous to be attempted. They were still on
the other side of the river, and the bridge was now gone. If left to
themselves, no doubt they would have perished, as they were very young
things. Perhaps some carnivorous creature--wolf, coati, eagle, or
vulture--would have devoured them, or they might have been eaten up by
the ants. But this was not to be their fate. Guapo swam across, and
strangled them. Then tying them together, he suspended the pair over his
shoulders, and brought them with him to be exhibited as a curiosity.
Moreover Guapo had a design upon their skins.
It was not long after that a pleasanter pet than either of them was
found, and this was a beautiful little saïmiri monkey, about the size of
a squirrel, which Guapo and Leon captured one day in the woods. They
heard a noise as they were passing along, and going up to the spot, saw
on the branch of a low tree nearly a dozen little monkeys all rolled up
together in a heap with their tails wrapped round each other as if to
keep themselves warm.
Nearly another dozen were running about, whining and apparently trying
to get in among the rest. Guapo and Leon made a sudden rush upon them,
and were able to capture three or four before the creatures could free
themselves; but only one lived, and that became a great pet and
favourite. It was a beautiful little creature--a true saïmiri, or
squirrel-monkey, called the "titi." Its silky fur was of a rich
olive-green colour; and its fine large eyes expressed fear or joy--now
filling with tears, and now brightening again--just like those of a
child.
During the summer our bark-gatherers continued their labour without
interruption, and on account of the great plenty of the cinchona-trees,
and their proximity to the house, they were enabled to accumulate a very
large store. They worked like bees.
Although this forest life was not without its pleasures and excitements,
yet it began to grow very irksome both to Don Pablo and Doña Isidora.
Life in the wilderness, with its rude cares and rude enjoyments, may be
very pleasant for a while to those who seek it as amateurs, or to that
class who as colonists intend to make it a permanent thing. But neither
Don Pablo nor his wife had ever thought of colonisation. With them their
present industry was the result of accident and necessity. Their tastes
and longings were very different. They longed to return to civilised
life; and though the very misfortune which had driven them forth into
the wilderness had also guided them to an opportunity of making a
fortune, it is probable they would have passed it by, had they not known
that, penniless as they were, they would have fared still worse in any
city to which they might have gone.
But before the first year was out, they yearned very much to return to
civilisation, and this desire was very natural. But there were other
reasons that influenced them besides the mere _ennui_ of the wilderness.
The lives of themselves and their children were constantly in danger
from jaguars, pumas, and poisonous reptiles. Even man himself might at
any moment appear as their destroyer. As yet no Indian--not even a trace
of one--had been seen. But this was not strange.
In the tangled and impenetrable forests of the Great Montaña two tribes
of Indians may reside for years within less than a league's distance of
each other, without either being aware of the other's existence!
Scarcely any intercourse is carried on, or excursions made, except by
the rivers--for they are the only roads--and where two of these run
parallel, although they may be only at a short distance from each other,
people residing on one may never think of crossing to the other.
Notwithstanding that no Indians had yet appeared to disturb them, there
was no certainty that these might not arrive any day, and treat them as
enemies. On this account, Don Pablo and Doña Isidora were never without
a feeling of uneasiness.
After mutual deliberation, therefore, they resolved not to prolong their
stay beyond the early part of spring, when they would carry out their
original design of building a _balza_ raft, and commit themselves to the
great river, which, according to all appearance, and to Guapo's
confident belief, flowed directly to the Amazon. Guapo had never either
descended or ascended it himself, and on their first arrival was not so
sure about its course; but after having gone down to its banks, and
examined its waters, his recollections revived, and he remembered many
accounts which he had heard of it from Indians of his own tribe. He had
no doubt but it was the same which, under the name of the "Purus,"
falls into the Amazon between the mouths of the Madeira and the Coary.
Upon this stream, therefore, in a few months they would embark. But
these intervening months were not spent in idleness. Although the season
for bark-gathering was past, another source of industry presented
itself. The bottom lands of the great river were found to be covered
with a network of underwood, and among this underwood the principal
plant was a well-known briar, _Smilax officinalis_. This is the creeping
plant that yields the celebrated "sarsaparilla;" and Don Pablo, having
made an analysis of some roots, discovered it to be the most valuable
species--for it is to be remembered, that, like the cinchona, a whole
genus, or rather several genera, furnish the article of commerce.
The briar which produces the sarsaparilla is a tall creeping plant,
which throws out a large number of long wrinkled roots of a uniform
thickness, and about the size of a goose-quill. Nothing is required
further than digging and dragging these roots out of the ground, drying
them a while, and then binding them in bundles with a small "sipo," or
tough forest creeper. These bundles are made up, so as to render the
roots convenient for packing and transport.
During several months this branch of industry occupied Don Pablo, Guapo,
and Leon; so that when the time drew nigh for their departure, what with
the cinchona-bark, the sarsaparilla, and the vanilla-beans, there was
not an empty inch in the large storehouse.
Guapo had not been all the time with them. For several days Gruapo was
not to be seen at the house, nor anywhere around it. Where had Guapo
been all this time? I will tell you; Guapo _had been to the mountains_!
Yes, Don Pablo had sent him on an important mission, which he had
performed with secrecy and despatch. Don Pablo, before braving the
dangers of the vast journey he had projected, had still a lingering hope
that something might have happened--some change in the government of
Peru--perhaps a new Viceroy--that might enable him to return with safety
to his native land. To ascertain if such had taken place, Guapo had made
his journey to the mountains.
He went no farther than the Puna--no farther than the hut of his friend
the vaquero--who, by a previous understanding with Guapo, had kept
himself informed about political matters.
There was no hope; the same Council, the same Viceroy, the same price
upon the head of Don Pablo--who, however, was believed to have escaped
in an American ship, and to have taken refuge in the great Republic of
the North.
With this news Guapo returned, and now the preparations for the river
voyage were set about in earnest. A balza raft was built out of large
trunks of the _Bombax ceiba_, which, being light wood, was the best for
the purpose. Of course these trunks had been cut long ago with a view to
using them in this way. A commodious cabin, or "toldo," was constructed
on the raft, built of palm and bamboos, and thatched with the broad
leaves of the bussu. A light canoe was also hollowed out, as a sort of
tender to the raft, and a couple of very large canoes for the purpose of
giving buoyancy to it, were lashed one upon each side. The "merchandise"
was carefully "stowed" and covered with "tarpaulins" of palm-leaves, and
the stores laid in with every providential care and calculation.
You will be wondering what was done with the horse and mule,--those
creatures who had served the exiles so faithfully and so well? Were they
left behind to become a prey to the jaguars and the large blood-sucking
bats, that kill so many animals in these parts? No--they were not to be
left to such a fate. One of them--the mule--had been already disposed
of. It was a valuable beast, and partly on that account, and partly from
gratitude felt towards it for the well-timed kick it had given the
ocelot, it was to be spared. Guapo had taken both the mule and the horse
on his mountain journey, and presented the former to his friend the
vaquero.
But the horse was still on hand. What was to be done with him? Leave him
behind? That would be certain death, for no horse, that was not cared
for, could exist in the Montaña ten days without being eaten up by the
fierce creatures that inhabit it. The bats would surely have destroyed
him. Well, what was done? He could not be carried on the raft. But he
was, though,--_in a way._
Guapo was resolved that the bats should not have him, nor the jaguars
neither. He was in fine condition--fat as a pig. The fruit of the
murumuru had agreed with him. He was just in the condition in which an
Indian thinks a horse "good for killing," and _Guapo killed him_! Yes,
Guapo killed him! It is true it was a sort of a Virginius tragedy, and
Guapo had great difficulty in nerving himself for the task. But the
blow-gun was at length levelled, and the _curare_ did its work. Then
Guapo skinned him, and cut him into strips, and dried him into
"charqui," and carried him on board the raft. That was the closing
scene.
All left the house together, carrying with them the remains of their
hastily-created _penates_. On reaching the end of the valley, they
turned and threw back a last glance at a home that had to them been a
happy one; and then, continuing their journey, they were soon upon the
balza. The only living creature that accompanied them from their valley
home was the pretty saïmiri, carried on the shoulder of the little
Leona.
The cable of piassaba-palm was carefully taken in and coiled, the raft
was pushed out, and the next moment floated lightly upon the broad bosom
of the river.