"Wide-rent, the clouds
Pour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquenched
Th' unconquerable lightning straggles through
Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling balls,
And fires the mountains with redoubled rage."
Thomson.
My old friend Captain Roberts is quite a remarkable man in his way--yes,
I might go farther and say, in many of his ways. As a pedestrian, for
example, there are few young men can beat him. When he and I make up
our minds to have a walk, the elements do not prevent us. We start and
go through with it.
But in summer or spring weather, when the roads are not quite ankle-deep
in mud, we dearly love to mount our tricycles and go for a good long
spin. We like to return feeling delightfully hungry and delightfully
tired; then we dine together, and after dinner, when good old Ben gets
his pipe in full blast, it would indeed do your heart good to listen to
him. Everything or anything suggests a yarn to Ben, or brings back to
his mind some sunny memory or gloomy recollection.
One day last summer we started for a ride, for the morning looked very
promising, and the roads were in splendid form. We followed the course
of the Thames upwards, and about noon found ourselves enjoying our
frugal luncheon near a pretty little reach of the river, one of the
thousand beautiful spots by the banks of this famous old stream.
As the clouds, however, began to bank up rather suddenly in the west,
and as they soon met and quite hid the sun, and as the day was still and
sultry, we expected, what we soon got, a thunderstorm. Neither my
friend nor I am very shy, when it comes to the push, so we ran for
shelter, and just as the thunder began to roll and the raindrops to
fall, we got our 'cycles comfortably housed in a farmer's shed.
The farmer was not content, however, until he had us both indoors in his
comfortable parlour. He threw the window wide open, because, he said,
the glass drew the lightning; so there we sat with the thunder rattling
overhead, the rain pattering on the grass and sending up delicious
odours of red and white clover, while the lightning seemed to run along
the ground, and mix itself up with the sparkling rain-rush in quite a
wonderful way.
"Terrible thunder!" said Captain Roberts. "Terrible! puts me in mind of
South America."
The farmer looked eagerly towards him.
The farmer's wife entered with tea, and this completed our feeling of
comfort.
"You've got something to tell us, Ben," I said. "There is something
which that storm reminds you of. Better out with it, without much
further parley."
"Ah, well," he said, "I suppose I must. Not that it is very much of a
story; only, gentlemen, it is true. I haven't lived long enough yet to
have to invent yarns. I haven't told half what I've seen and come
through. But not to weary you--what delicious tea, ma'am!"
"So glad it pleases you, sir."
"I've sailed around a good many coasts in my time; but I think you will
find scenery more charming on the seaboard of some parts of South
America than in any other country in the world. Round about Patagonia,
now, what can beat the coast line for grandeur and stern beauty?
Nothing that I know of.
"But farther north--on the shores of Bolivia, for instance--the scenery
is just a trifle disappointing; the coast is low and sandy, and very
rough in places.
"They call the ocean that laves it the Pacific. Bless my soul! friends,
had you but seen it one day in the month of April, 18--, you wouldn't
have said there was much `pacific' about it. The bit of a barque I was
coasting in was on a lee-shore, too, and there was nothing short of a
miracle could save her. We all saw that from the first. That miracle
never took place. We were carried on shore--carried in on top of a
mountain wave, struck with fearful force, and broke in two in less than
an hour.
"It was a wonder anybody was saved. As it was, seven of us got on shore
one way or another, and there we lay battered and bruised. The sun
dried one half of our clothes; then we rolled round, and he dried the
other. We had tasted no food for four-and-twenty hours, for we had been
battened down, and all hands had to be on deck. So when a case rolled
right up to our very feet we weren't long looking inside it, and glad
enough to find some provisions in the shape of tinned soup.
"Stores floated on shore next day, and spars, and one thing and another,
so we rigged a tent, and made ourselves as much at home as it was
possible for shipwrecked mariners to do.
"We had been shipwrecked apparently on a most inhospitable shore. To
say there wasn't a green thing in sight would hardly be correct. Bits
of scrubby bushes grew here and there in the sand, and a kind of strong
rough grass also in patches; but that was all. Inland, the horizon was
bounded by a chain of mountains; to the west was the ocean, calm enough
now, very wide and dark and blue, with not even an island to break its
monotony.
"It was a poor look-out for us, only we all agreed that it would be
better to stay where we were until our wounds and bruises were somewhat
healed, and until we had gathered sufficient strength to explore the
country.
"We had plenty to eat and drink where we were; we could not tell how we
might fare elsewhere. Only we were quite out of the way of ships, and
our provisions would not last for ever.
"For the first three or four days, I may say we did nothing else but
bury our dead. Sad enough employment, you must allow. But after this a
breeze of wind sprang up, which during the night increased to a gale,
blowing right on to the shore. When the darkness lifted, to our great
joy we found our ship, or rather the pieces of her that had in a sort of
way held together, floated high and dry on the beach.
"Had we wished now to become Crusoes we should have had every
convenience, for we not only got provisions of all kinds out of the
wreck, but boxes of stores, guns, and ammunition. For the last we were
very grateful; and rough sailors though we were, we did not forget to
kneel down there on the sands and thank the Giver of all good, not only
for having mercifully spared us from the violence of the sea, but for
giving us this earnest of future good fortune.
"The hawk scents the quarry from afar, and early next morning we were
not surprised to receive a visit from some armed Indians. They rode on
horses and on mules that seemed as fleet as they were sure-footed.
These Indians were kind enough to express a wish, not over-politely
worded, to possess samples of our various stores. We gave them to eat
as much as they liked; but when they attempted to pillage the wreck, we
first and foremost smilingly and persuasively hinted our disapproval of
such a proceeding.
"This hint not being taken, we tried another: we levelled guns at them,
and they fled.
"They came again the next day; and we made them many presents, and asked
them, in broken Spanish and a deal of sign language, to conduct us
safely over the mountains to the nearest Bolivian town or settlement.
"They were in all about twenty, and if they were half as bad in heart as
they looked, then they were indeed scoundrels of the first water. But
we numbered seven--seven bold hearts and true, and we were well armed,
and able enough to drive a bargain with these fellows to our mutual
advantage.
"We did so in this way: we were to have several horses and five mules,
which should be laden with all our own especial baggage. They--the
Indians--should have as much as they liked of the stores that remained.
"They appeared to consent to this willingly enough. So we made our
packs up--taking the best of everything, of course, and whatever was of
the greatest value.
"It was now well on in the afternoon, so we determined to start on our
journey inland the very next morning. The Indians had still half a
dozen good mules left, and they at once set about making preparations
for loading them.
"There was a deal of squabbling and wrangling over the division, and
more than once they seemed coming to blows.
"As soon as they had chosen all they could carry, we set about piling up
the rest of the wreckage in a heap, preparatory to setting fire to it.
This was absolutely necessary, for if anything was left behind it would
be but a short convoy those Indians would give us. They would hide
their mule packs among the mountains and hurry back for more.
"They were very much displeased, therefore, to see what we were about.
"But nothing cared we; and just as the sun dipped down into the western
ocean we set fire to the immense pile.
"When darkness fell, and the flames leaped high into the air, the scene
was one worthy of the brush of a Rembrandt. The sea was lit up for
miles with a ruddy glare; the sands were all aglow with the blaze; the
Indians and their mules thrown out in bold relief looked picturesque in
the extreme, while we, the white men, armed to the teeth, and carefully
watching the Indians, though not in any way to give them cause for
alarm, formed a by no means insignificant portion of the scene.
"We were early astir the next day, and on the road before the sun had
begun to peep down over the eastern hills.
"We marched in single file, an old grey-bearded Indian leading the van
as our guide.
"Before many hours we had left the sandy hills along the seashore, and
had entered the mountain defiles.
"Scenery more rugged, wild, and beautiful I had seldom clapped eyes
upon, either before or since. At the same time we could not help
feeling thankful that we had obtained the guidance of these Indians,
treacherous though they no doubt were, for we never could have made our
way otherwise across this range of rugged mountains, nor through the
wild entanglement of forest.
"By day many a wild beast crossed our pathway, but only seldom we shot
them, and we never followed far; we were shipwrecked sailors trying to
make our way to some semi-civilised town, where we could live in some
degree of safety until we found out the lay of the land, as our mate
called it, and fell in at last with some British ship.
"These fellows, our guides, could tell us nothing, but they led us day
after day towards the east and the north.
"We kept a strict watch over their every movement, and it was well we
did so. At night we bivouacked but a little distance from their camp,
and had separate fires and separate sentries.
"Almost every evening after supper they made themselves madly drunk with
the wine they had received from us, and without which they would have
refused to guide us at all.
"After four days' wandering we arrived, during a pitiless storm of
thunder and rain, at a strange and semi-barbarian village. The houses
or huts were built upon piles, and the inhabited portion of them stood
high above the ground; you had to ascend to this on a sort of hen's
ladder.
"The street itself at the time we entered the town was more like a river
than anything else. But we were glad enough to find shelter of any
kind, drenched to the skin as we were, and wet and weary as well.
"Next day was bright and clear again, and it seemed to me that every one
of the villagers turned out to see us start. They appeared to be
peaceable enough, so we made little presents to the women, and advised
our Indian guides to do the same. They were not inclined to part with
anything, however, and evidently looked upon us as fools for what we
did.
"Our march that day was across vast plains and swamps towards another
mountain-chain, more rugged and grand than any we had yet seen.
"We chatted pleasantly and sang as we rode on, for the Indians assured
us that in two days more we should arrive at a very large and populous
city, where plenty of rich white men lived, with splendid houses, broad
paved streets, hotels, and even palaces. We bivouacked that night at
the very foot of the chain of mountains, and next morning entered and
rode through gloomy glens and dark woods, and the farther we rode the
wilder the country seemed to become. Yet some of the woodland scenes
were inexpressibly lovely. We came out at last on the brow of a hill,
just as the sun was setting over the distant forest, and bathing with
its golden glory a scene as lovely as it was sad and melancholy.
"A vast plain in the centre of an amphitheatre of hills, clad almost to
their summits with lofty trees, a broad river meandering through this
plain, and on both banks thereof what appeared from where we stood to be
a city of palaces. Alas! on entering it we found it a city of ruins.
Trees and shrubs grew where the streets had been, the gardens had
degenerated into jungles; we saw wild beasts hiding behind the
mouldering walls, and heard them growl as we passed; and we saw monster
snakes and lizards wriggling hither and thither, and these were the only
inhabitants of this once large and populous town.
"Yet in the halls of its palaces the banquet had once been spread, and
gaiety, mirth, and music had resounded in its streets and thoroughfares,
till war came with murder and pestilence, and then all was changed. The
city's best sons were sent to work in mines, or slain; the city's
fairest daughters marched away in chains to become the slaves of their
terrible foes.
"I could not help thinking of all this as I rode through this ruined
city of the plain, and sighed as I did so. The words and music of the
sad old song came into my mind:
"`So sinks the pride of former days
When glory's thrill is o'er.
And hearts that once beat high with praise
Now feel that pulse no more.'
"But the sun set and night came on, and with it storm and darkness."