THE GUARDIAN BROTHER.
The current of the river flowed at the rate of about four miles an hour,
and at this speed they travelled. They had nothing to do but guide the
raft in the middle part of the stream. This was effected by means of a
large stern-oar fixed upon a pivot, and which served the purpose of a
rudder. One was required to look after this oar, and Don Pablo and Guapo
took turns at it. It was not a very troublesome task, except where some
bend had to be got round, or some eddy was to be cleared, when both had
to work at it together. At other times the balza floated straight on,
without requiring the least effort on the part of the crew; and then
they would all sit down and chat pleasantly, and view the changing
scenery of the forest-covered shores.
Sometimes tall palms lined the banks, and sometimes great forest trees
netted together by thick parasites that crept from one to the other,
and twined around the trunks like monster serpents. Sometimes the shores
were one unbroken thicket of underwood, where it would have been almost
impossible to make a landing had they wished it. At other places there
were sand-bars, and even little islets with scarce any vegetation upon
them; and they also passed many other islets and large islands thickly
wooded. The country generally appeared to be flat, though at one or two
places they saw hills that ran in to the banks of the river.
Of course the change of scenery, and the many fresh vistas continually
opening before them, rendered their voyage both cheerful and
interesting. The many beautiful birds too, and new kinds of trees and
animals which they saw, were a constant source of varied enjoyment, and
furnished them with themes of conversation.
During the first day they made a journey of full forty miles. Having
brought their balza close to the shore, and secured it to a tree, they
encamped for the night. There was no opening of any extent, but for some
distance the ground was clear of underwood, and the trunks of great old
trees rose like columns losing themselves amidst the thick foliage
overhead. A dark forest only could be seen, and, as night drew on, the
horrid cries of the alouattes, or howling monkeys, mingling with the
voices of other nocturnal animals, filled the woods. They had no fear of
monkeys, but now and then they thought they could distinguish the cry of
the jaguar, and of him they had fear enough. Indeed the jaguar possesses
the power of imitating the cry of the other animals of the forest, and
often uses it to draw them within reach of him.
In addition to the fire upon which they had cooked their supper, as soon
as night had fairly set in, they kindled others, forming a sort of
semicircle, the chord of which was the bank of the river itself. Within
this semicircle the hammocks were stretched from tree to tree; and, as
all were fatigued with the day's exertions, they climbed into them at an
early hour, and were soon asleep. One alone sat up to keep watch. As
they thought they had heard the jaguar, this was deemed best; for they
knew that fire will not always frighten off that fierce animal. As the
neighbourhood looked suspicious, and also as it was their first
encampment, they, like all travellers at setting out, of course were
more timid and cautious.
To Leon was assigned the first watch; for Leon was a courageous boy, and
it was not the first time he had taken his turn in this way. He was to
sit up for about two hours, and then wake Guapo, who would keep the
midnight watch; after which Don Pablo's turn would come, and that would
terminate in the morning at daybreak. Leon was instructed to rouse the
others in case any danger might threaten the camp.
Leon from choice had seated himself by the head of the hammock in which
slept the little Leona; in order, no doubt, to be nearer her, as she was
the most helpless of the party, and therefore required more immediate
protection. He had both the pistols by him--ready to his hand and
loaded--and in case of danger he knew very well how to use them.
He had been seated for about half-an-hour, now casting his eyes up to
the red and wrinkled trunks of the trees, and then gazing into the dark
vistas of the surrounding forest, or at other times looking out upon the
glistening surface of the river. Many a strange sound fell upon his
ear. Sometimes the whole forest appeared to be alive with voices--the
voices of beasts and birds, reptiles, and insects--for the tree-frogs
and ciendas were as noisy as the larger creatures. At other times a
perfect stillness reigned, so that he could distinctly hear the tiny hum
of the mosquito; and then, all at once, would fall upon his ear the
melancholy wailing of the night-hawk--the "_alma perdida_," or "lost
soul"--for such is the poetical and fanciful name given by the Spanish
Americans to this nocturnal bird.
While thus engaged Leon began to feel very drowsy. The heavy day's work,
in which he had borne part, had fatigued him as well as the others; and,
in spite of the odd voices that from time to time fell upon his ear, he
could have lain down upon the bare ground and slept without a feeling of
fear. Snakes or scorpions, or biting lizards or spiders, would not have
kept him from going to sleep at that moment. It is astonishing how the
desire of sleep makes one indifferent to all these things, which at
other times we so much dread. Leon did not fear them a bit, but kept
himself awake from a feeling of pride and honour. He reflected that it
would never do to be unfaithful to the important trust confided to him.
No; that would never do. He rubbed his eyes, and rose up, and approached
the bank, and dipped his hands in the water, and came back to his former
place, and sat down again. Spite of all his efforts, however, he felt
very heavy. Oh! when would the two hours pass that he might rouse Guapo?
"Car-r-ambo! I nev-er was so s-s-sleepy. _Vamos_! Leon! you mustn't give
in!"
And striking himself a lively slap on the chest, he straightened his
back, and sat upright for a while.
He was just beginning to get bowed about the shoulders again, and to nod
a little, when he was startled by a short sharp exclamation uttered by
the little Leona. He looked up to her hammock. He could perceive it had
moved slightly, but it was at rest again, and its occupant was evidently
asleep.
"Poor little sis! she is dreaming," he muttered half aloud. "Perhaps
some horrid dream of jaguars or serpents. I have half a mind to awake
her. But, no, she sleeps too soundly; I might disturb them all;" and
with these reflections Leon remained upon his seat.
Once more his head was beginning to bob, when the voice of Leona again
startled him, and he looked up as before. The hammock moved slightly,
but there was no appearance of anything wrong. From where he sat he
could not see well into it, but the outlines of the child's body were
easily discernible through the elastic netting; and at the farther end
he could just perceive one of her little feet, where it had escaped from
the covering, and rested partly over the edge.
As he continued to gaze upon the delicate member, thinking whether he
had not better cover it against the mosquitoes, all at once his eye was
attracted by something red--a crooked red line that traversed from the
toe downward along the side of the foot. It was red and glittering--it
was _a stream of blood_!
His first feeling was one of horror. His next was a resolve to spring to
his feet and rouse the camp, but this impulse was checked by one of
greater prudence. Whatever enemy had done it, thought he, must still be
about the hammock; to make a noise would, perhaps, only irritate it, and
cause it to inflict some still more terrible wound. He would remain
quiet, until he had got his eyes upon the creature, when he could spring
upon it, or fire his pistol before it could do further harm.
With these ideas, quickly conceived, he rose silently to his feet, and
standing, or rather crouching forward, bent his eyes over the hammock.