"Well, I did think something of the kind."
"Of course you did. It is your nature to think like that, but you may
make your mind easy, for there's only one thing likely to attack you out
here."
"What's that?" whispered Rob--"Indians who will swim out from the
shore?"
"No, wild creeturs who will fly--skeeters, lad, skeeters."
"Oh," said Rob, with a little laugh, "they've been busy enough already,
two or three of them. But what's that?"
He grasped Shaddy's arm, for at that moment there was a plunge in the
river not very far-away in the darkness from where they were moored, and
then silence.
"Dunno yet," said Shaddy in a whisper. "Listen."
Rob needed no telling, for his every nerve was on the strain. There
came a peculiar grunting sound, very unlike any noise that might have
been made by a swimming Indian, and Shaddy said quietly,--
"Water hog. Carpincho they calls 'em; big kind of porky, beavery,
ottery, ratty sort of thing; and not bad eating."
Rob pressed his arm again as a sharp, piercing howl came from far-away
over the river, here about four or five hundred yards across.
"That's a lion," said Shaddy quietly. "Strikes me they shout like that
to scare the deer and things they live on into making a rush, and then
they're down upon 'em like a cat upon a mouse."
"Lion? You mean a puma."
"Means a South American lion, my lad."
"There it is again," whispered Rob in an awe-stricken voice, "only it's
a deeper tone, and sounds more savage."
"That's just what it is," said Shaddy, "ever so much more savage. That
wasn't a lion; that was a tiger--well, jagger, as some calls 'em. Deal
fiercer beasts than the lions."
The cries were repeated and answered from a distance, while many other
strange noises arose, to which the man could give no name.
"One would want half a dozen lives to be able to get at all of it, my
lad," said Shaddy quietly, "and there's such lots of things that cheat
you so."
"Hist! There's another splash," whispered Rob.
"Ay; there's no mistake about that, my lad. There it goes again, double
one. It's as plain as if you can see it, a big fish springing out of
the water, turning over, and falling in again with a flop. You don't
think there's no fish in the river now, do you?"
"Oh no. I don't doubt it now," whispered Rob, as he listened to fish
after fish rising, and all apparently very large.
"Makes a man wonder what they are jumping after, unless it is the stars
shining in the water. You hear that?"
"Yes."
"And that, too?"
"Yes, I hear them," replied Rob, unable to repress a shiver, so strange
and weird were the cries which came mournfully floating across.
"Well, them two used to puzzle me no end--one of 'em a regular roar and
the other quite a moan, as if somebody was a-dying."
"You know what it is now?"
"Yes, and you'd never guess, my lad, till you said one was made by a
bird."
"A bird?"
"Yes, a long-legged heron kind of thing as trumpets it out with a roar
like a strange, savage beast; and the other moaning, groaning sound is
made by a frog. I don't mind owning it used to scare me at first."
Rob sat listening to the weird chorus going on in the forest and
watching the stars above, and their slightly blurred reflections in the
water which went whispering by the prow and side of the boat. It was
all so solemn, and strange, and awe-inspiring that, in spite of a
feeling of dread which he could not master, he was glad to be there,
wakeful, trying to picture the different creatures prowling about in the
darkness of the primeval forest. He had listened time after time on the
voyage up, but then the schooner was close at hand, and they passed
towns and villages on the east bank; but here they were farther away in
the heart of the wild country, and on the very edge of a forest
untrodden by the foot of man, and maybe teeming with animal life as new
as it was strange. And in amongst this they were soon going to plunge!
It had been the dream of the boy's life to penetrate one of the
untrodden fastnesses of nature, but now that he was on the threshold
listening in the darkness of night, there was something terrible both in
the silence and in the sounds which made him ask himself whether he had
done wisely in accompanying Martin Brazier, an old friend of his father,
who, partly for profit, but more for the advancement of science, had
made his arrangements for this adventurous journey. But it was too late
now to recede, even had he wished to do so. In fact, had any one talked
of his return, he would have laughed at him as a proposer of something
absurd.
"I suppose it comes natural to most boys to long for adventures and to
see foreign countries," he thought to himself, and then he went mentally
over the scene with Giovanni.
"Joe is as eager as I was," he muttered, and then he started, for
something swept by his face.
"What's matter, my lad?" said Shaddy quietly.
"I--I don't know, something--There it goes again, some bird. An owl, I
think, flew past my face. There, it skimmed just over our heads with a
fluttering noise."
"I heard it, lad--bat, big 'un. Put your toes in your pockets if you
haven't got on your shoes."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a blood-sucker--wampire, that's all."
"But that's all nonsense," said Rob, with a slight shudder, "a
traveller's tale."
"Oh, is it, boy? You'll see one of these times when we wake in the
morning. They come in the night and suck your blood."
"Oh, that can't be true?"
"Why not? Get out, will you?" said Shaddy gruffly, as he made a blow at
the great leathern-winged creature that kept fluttering about their
heads. "He smells his supper, and is trying for a chance. You don't
believe it, then?"
"No."
"Humph! Well, you've a right to your own opinion, my lad," said Shaddy
quietly, "but I suppose you believe that if you dabbled your legs in the
water a leech might fix on you and suck your blood?"
"Oh yes; I've had many on me in England."
"And you've had skeeters on you and maybe sucked your blood here?"
"Yes."
"Then why can't you believe as a bat wouldn't do the same?"
Rob found the argument unanswerable.
"It's true enough, my lad. They'll lay hold on a fellow's toe or thumb,
ay, and on horses too. I've known 'em quite weak with being sucked so
much night after night."
"Horses? Can they get through a horse's thick skin?"
Shaddy chuckled.
"Why, dear lad," he said, "a horse has got a skin as tender as a man's,
so just you 'member that next time you spurs or whips them."
Rob sat in silence, thinking, with the weird sounds increasing for a
time; and, in spite of his efforts, it was impossible to keep down a
shrinking sense of dread.
Everything was thrilling: the golden-spangled water looked so black, and
the darkness around so deep, while from the Grand Chaco, the great,
wild, untrodden forest across the river stretching away toward the
mighty Andes in the west, the shouts, growls, and wails suggested
endless horrors going on as the wild creatures roamed here and there in
search of food.
_Plash_! right away--a curious sound of a heavy body plunging into the
river, but with the noise carried across the water, so that it seemed to
be only a few yards away.
"What's that?" whispered Rob.
"Can't tell for sartain, my lad, but I should say that something came
along and disturbed a big fat 'gator on the bank, and he took a dive in
out of the way. I say! Hear that?"
"Hear it?" said Rob, as a creeping sensation came amongst the roots of
his hair, just as if the skin had twitched; "who could help hearing it?"
For the moment before Shaddy asked his question a blood-curdling,
agonising yell, as of some being in mortal agony, rang out from across
the river.
"Ay, 'tis lively. First time I heered that I says to myself, `That's
one Injun killing another,' and I cocked my rifle and said to myself
again, `well, he shan't do for me.'"
"And was it one Indian murdering another in his sleep?"
Shaddy chuckled.
"Not it, lad. Darkness is full of cheating and tricks. You hears
noises in the night, and they sound horrid. If you heered 'em when the
sun's shining you wouldn't take any notice of 'em."
"But there it is again," whispered Rob, as the horrible cry arose, and
after an interval was repeated as from a distance. "Whatever is it?"
"Sort o' stork or crane thing calling its mate and saying, `Here's lots
o' nice, cool, juicy frogs out here. Come on.'"
"A bird?"
"Yes. Why not? Here, you wait a bit, and you'll open your eyes wide to
hear 'em. Some sings as sweet as sweet, and some makes the most gashly
noises you can 'magine. That's a jagger--that howl, and that's a lion
again. Hear him! He calls out sharper like than the other. You'll
soon get to know the difference. But I say, do go and have a sleep now,
so as to get up fresh and ready for the day's work. I shall have lots
to show you to-morrow."
"Yes, I'll go and lie down again soon. But listen to that! What's that
booming, roaring sound that keeps rising and falling? There, it's quite
loud now."
"Frogs!" said Shaddy promptly. "There's some rare fine ones out here.
There, go and lie down, my lad."
"Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me? You are watching. Can't
I keep you company?"
"Glad to have you, my lad, but I was picked out by Skipper Ossolo
because I know all about the country and the river ways, wasn't I?"
"Yes, of course."
"Very well, then. I give you good advice. You don't want to be ill and
spoil your trip, so, to keep right, what you've got to do is to eat and
drink reg'lar and sensible and take plenty of sleep."
"Oh, very well," said Rob, with a sigh. "I'll go directly."
"It means steady eyes and hands, my lad. I know: it all sounds very
wild and strange up here, but you'll soon get used to it, and sleep as
well as those Indian lads do. There, good-night."
"Good-night," said Rob reluctantly. "But isn't it nearly morning?"
"Not it, five hours before sunrise; so go and take it out ready for a
big day--such a trip as you never dreamed of."
"Very well," replied Rob, and he crept quietly back to his place under
the canvas covering, but sleep would not come, or so it seemed to him.
But all at once the mingling of strange sounds grew muffled and dull,
and then he opened his eyes, to find that the place where he lay was
full of a soft, warm glow, and Joe was bending over him and shaking him
gently.