"It's my opinion," said Captain Banes, "that when the sun goes down a
breeze will spring up; and I mean to get as far up as I can before it is
too dark to see, for the sooner we're out of this neighbourhood the
better."
"Do you think there's a village of these people near?" asked Brace.
"Oh, no; there may be a few huts with the wives and children close at
hand, but so far as I know there are only a few of them here and there
up the rivers leading a hunting and fishing life."
But the captain's prophecy was not fulfilled. There was a little ripple
on the water for a few minutes after sundown, but not enough breeze to
fill out a sail, and the darkness came on with the brig swinging easily
by the creaking cable, which ground and fretted in the hawse-holes.
"Now, squire," said the captain, turning to Brace, "how's it going to
be? Shall we be all right here at anchor, or will those chaps who got
ashore hunt up all their friends and come off in canoes when it's dark,
to kill us and sack the brig?"
"I'm not experienced enough to say," replied Brace, smiling. "What do
you think?"
"I think I don't know, my lad: it's as likely to be one way as the
other. What do you say to dividing the crew and passengers into two
watches, all well armed and ready for the worst? One watch on deck, the
other below, just lying down in our clothes with a rifle for a
bedfellow, ready to run up at the first call."
"I should say it would be very wise," said Brace, "and I think we had
better do it."
"But there's another way, my lad: suppose we up anchor and drop down
with the stream for a few miles before letting go again."
"I don't like going backward," said Brace, "and we might be getting into
a worse place."
"Out of the frying-pan into the fire, eh? Right: so we'll stop here and
be fried."
The division was made, and soon after dark Brace found himself keeping a
sharp look-out on deck in company with Briscoe and part of the crew, the
captain taking the first watch, while the first and second mates were
below with half the men, ready to rush up at the first summons.
This plan was quite in accordance with Brace's wishes, for it enabled
him to keep stealing down to his brother's berth, and after these visits
he would return on deck better satisfied, for the patient was still
sleeping heavily, and there was not a symptom visible that could cause
alarm.
The captain was also of this opinion, he informed Brace, as the young
man took a turn or two with him up and down the deck.
"You've nothing to fidget about, squire. That arrow was poisoned, sure
enough; but what you did, and the bleeding, washed all the bad stuff
away, and the wound will begin to heal up at once. There, you go and
use your eyes in all directions, my lad. I want to think."
The dismissal was imperative, and after sweeping the edge of the forest
and gazing for a long time up and down the river again and again with
his glass, Brace stopped beside the American, who was seated on the
bulwark with one arm holding on by the shrouds and his rifle across his
knees, silent and watchful in the extreme.
"Seen anything?" whispered Brace.
"A few fireflies; and I've heard a splash or two: that's all," was the
reply.
"Think we shall be attacked to-night?"
"Likely enough. If we are it will be by canoes dropping down from that
projecting part of the bank yonder. The enemy will come upon us quietly
in the darkness, and we shall only know they are here when they begin
swarming over the side."
"And then?" said Brace, as he stood with his eyes fixed upon the
dimly-seen point a hundred yards above, where a faint spark of light
glimmered out from time to time as if a party of savages were gathered
there, and were passing the time in smoking before the attack was made.
"Well, then," said Briscoe coolly, "we shall have to shoot some, and
knock the rest back into their canoes or the river, I suppose."
"That sounds pleasant," said Brace.
"Yes, but we must take the rough with the smooth. One can't expect
everything to go right. But don't let's meet trouble half-way. Just as
likely as not we may go on for a month now and see no more of the enemy.
I wonder whether this river leads up to the old golden city."
"Which old golden city are you speaking of?" asked Brace wonderingly.
"The old one the Spaniards and the early English voyagers were always
seeking."
"But that was only an old fable."
"I don't know," said Briscoe thoughtfully. "They had it, I suppose,
from native reports, and they never found it."
"Of course not. It _was_ only a travellers' tale."
"Perhaps so, but the wealth of Mexico and of Peru did not turn out to be
a travellers' tale."
"Well, no," said Brace slowly.
"And there is plenty of room out here in the mountains or beyond the
forest for such a golden city."
"Oh, yes, plenty of room," said Brace.
"There is gold in the upper waters of the rivers, for I have found it.
We shall find some in this, I'll be bound--some day when we've sailed up
as far as we can, and then pushed on up the shallows in a boat right
away towards the mountains."
"What mountains?" asked Brace.
"The unexplored mountains from which these great rivers spring."
"Unexplored?"
"Certainly. Travellers have been pretty well everywhere in other
countries, but there are vast tracts here in Central South America that
have never been tapped as yet by explorers. Who knows what we may
find?"
"Ah, who knows? Well, we shall see."
"If only our health holds out and the winds favour us till we have
sailed up into the higher regions. What would help us most are floods
to give us plenty of deep water."
"Are we likely to get floods?"
"Plenty. Every storm in the mountains swells these rivers, and if the
wind will blow well from the sea we can get up a tremendous distance,
for we shall have plenty of deep water."
"But you want, like us, to try and collect plenty of fresh
natural-history objects, don't you?"
"Of course."
"You don't dream of discovering any old golden city, as you call it?"
"Not in the least; but if we do come upon traces of any old civilisation
during our voyage we shall not pass it by without examining it as far as
we can. What's the matter?"
Brace had suddenly gripped his companion's arm whilst he was speaking,
and in response to Briscoe's question he thrust his right hand over the
side of the brig and pointed up the river.
Briscoe shaded his eyes and gazed in the indicated direction for some
moments.
"I see nothing," he whispered at last.
"Look again, a little way out from the point."
There was another pause in the darkness, and then the American spoke.
"Your eyes are better than mine. Yes, I see it now. What do you make
of it?"
"Three canoes following one another and coming slowly with the stream."
"Full of men?" said Briscoe.
"It is too dark to see."
"Pst! Captain!" whispered Briscoe, and that gentleman crossed to where
they stood.
"See anything?"
For answer Brace pointed up stream, and after a sharp glance the captain
sent one of the men below, and the whole party were upon the _qui vive_,
with hardly a word being uttered, for every man was prepared for the
alarm. That which had been fully expected had occurred, and, rifles in
hand, officers, passengers, and crew took the places to which they had
been appointed.
Brace's heart beat fast as he stood gazing at the long low shadowy
objects gliding slowly nearer and nearer to the brig, thinking the while
that if he were captain he would give the order at once for fire to be
opened with buckshot, so that it might scatter and wound as many of the
Indians as possible without causing death.
But he was not in command, and he started with surprise, for the
captain's voice suddenly rang out with an order, though not the one he
anticipated.
"Stand by, a couple of you," he said, "and be handy there, Mr Dellow,
to let go the port anchor. I expect they'll foul the cable and send us
adrift."
There was a pattering of feet upon the deck, and the next moment Captain
Banes's hand was upon Brace's shoulder.
"Your eyes are a little out of focus, squire," he said quietly. "They
magnify too much, and see more than there is."
"Why--what--surely--" stammered Brace.
"It's all right, my lad," said the captain quietly. "Better than seeing
nothing when there's real danger coming on board."
"They deceived me, captain," said Briscoe.
"So they did me, sir, at the first squint. I thought we were in for a
scrimmage, and that before long I should be cutting up sticking-plaster
and putting it on. Two fine old sticks of timber those, squire, and
they must have come down some fierce falls to be stripped of their
boughs like that. Now, then, are they going to foul our cable and send
us adrift or will they slip quietly by?"
Brace felt so annoyed and disgusted that he could find no words for the
moment, and he stood there watching the two old tree-trunks coming
closer and closer, till the foremost just missed the cable, and directly
after touched the brig's bows with a slow, dull, heavy impact which made
her jar from end to end.
"Bah!" ejaculated the lad, in his disgust, and, turning away, he left
the deck, glad of the excuse of going down into the cabin to see after
his brother.
But the second mate was waiting for him when he came up, ready with a
bantering laugh.
"I say, sir," he whispered, "aren't you a bit too eager for a fight?"
Brace said nothing, but, mortified by his mistake, walked right aft, to
stand leaning over the stern, gazing down into the black waters as they
came rushing and whispering from beneath the vessel, eddying about the
rudder, and suggesting wonders of the mysterious monsters that might
even then be gazing up at him with glassy eyes, meditating a spring and
a snatch to seize and drag him down to their lair, as he had seen the
two savages snatched from life not many hours before.
"Horrible!" he muttered, half-aloud, as he shrank away with a shudder.
"What's horrible?" said the familiar voice of the American behind him;
"being chaffed by the skipper? Don't be so thin-skinned."
"Oh, it wasn't that," said Brace frankly. "I was slightly annoyed for
the moment, but it was only a mistake."
"Of course, and it's better to be too particular than not particular
enough. We should look well if we were taken by surprise. What was
horrible, then?"
"I was thinking about those two Indians being seized and dragged down as
I looked over the side, and of the possibility of a huge snake making a
snatch at one, and then--ugh!"
"Were you?" said Briscoe, with a faint laugh. "Why, I was leaning over
the side yonder, and I turned quite nervous with fancying something of
the same kind. A bit cowardly, I suppose, but it would be an awful
death."
"Don't talk about it," said Brace. "If you're cowardly in that way, I
am. I never thought of these rivers being infested with such horrible
creatures."
"The worst being the crocodiles," said Briscoe; "but they wouldn't be
out here in the swift stream. I should say that the place to beware of
the serpents would be the shallow, still creeks in sunny parts of the
forest, or in the pools of the swamps, where they lie half-torpid till
some animal comes in to bathe or drink."
"Hadn't we better change the conversation?" said Brace, laughing. "What
about the Indians? I don't feel disposed to keep watch any more."
"Why? The danger is as great as ever."
"So is that of being laughed at for my false alarm."
"Oh, you should not notice that. Let's go forward again."
As the pair walked to the bows it was to pass the men of the watch, the
rest having gone quietly below again; and no one spoke or made allusion
to what had taken place, so that Brace resumed his vigil in peace, till
it was time for the relief to come on deck, when he descended, to find
his brother sleeping so peacefully that, in spite of all efforts to the
contrary, he could not finish the night by watching at Sir Humphrey's
side, for his head slowly sank sidewise as he sat upon the cabin locker,
and then all was blank till there was a creaking noise in the adjacent
cabin--a noise which made him start to his feet and look wonderingly
around.