Chapter XXXV.

A FOE.

Johnnie Morgan was not the only sick man left behind in the Indian

village. Master Jeffreys had had the strong hand of the fever upon

him; and the son of the parson of Newnham, like his neighbour and

friend the Blakeney yeoman, found the air of the Orinoco less

invigorating than the air of the Severn. With the three sick men had

been left three sound men as guard and escort. Two of these, the

Johnsons, had elected to remain with their friend Master Timothy, and a

soldier had been chosen to keep them company. Johnnie was the last of

the three invalids to recover; indeed, the others had made plans for

their journey in the wake of the main expedition long before he was fit

to take his place in the boat.

It was fortunate for the six left behind that all, save one, were

experienced navigators, and that two of these had had the opportunity

of sailing boats on the Severn, the most treacherous of all English

tidal rivers. The boat built after the fashion of a native canoe was

left for them; they rigged a mast and small sail, fixed a rudder, and,

with a native of the village as guide, set off a little after sunrise

one morning.

For many days the voyage was uneventful enough. Captain Drake had gone

before, and the natives were everywhere eager to welcome the Englishmen

and render them every assistance. They were warned of dangers in the

river, which still ran strongly, and was in places a couple of miles in

width. Guides were readily provided, and everything done to hasten

them on their way. Their light boat went splendidly; they were spared

many of the ceremonious visitations that had fallen upon their captain,

and often, during the day, made two miles of progress to one made by

him over the same stretch of river. Each sunset found them nearer and

nearer to the main body, and they were quick to notice that the latter

were going slower and slower every day.

The country was no longer monotonously flat, as it had been whilst the

river swept along through the llanos. Hills now rose up to right and

left; great mountains loomed up dimly against the skyline; and the low,

muddy banks gave way to towering limestone cliffs, their natural

whiteness hidden by the luxuriant, clinging vegetation. Shallows in

the river were no longer sandy and sluggish, but rapids were the

dangers to navigation. The air was cooler and fresher, the vegetation

was that of drier soil and drier atmosphere, insect life was less

noxious, and the labours of the way grew more endurable.

But as the perils from nature decreased, those to be apprehended from

man increased. The adventurers had long passed the most southerly

point of Spanish influence. Hitherto they had found docile Indians,

who had learned to fear the white man and his strange weapons, and to

hate one section of the white race--namely, the Spanish. The

Englishmen were white, and possessed the moral power of the race over

ruder peoples; they also came as foes and rivals to those who

ill-treated the long-suffering native; hence they had been everywhere

treated with awe, not unmixed with real affection. As far as the

inhabitants of the land were concerned, their voyage had been a sort of

triumphal procession.

But inhabitants of hilly or mountainous land are always hardier and

less docile than their brethren of the fat plains. The Indians on the

hilly fringes of the Orinoco basin were no exception to this rule.

They had heard of the white man; refugees from the lower lands had

spread reports of his rapacity and cruelty, and of the scorn with which

he treated the poor brown man. They were resolved that he should not

lay hands on them or their treasures without a struggle. And so it

came to pass that one day the messengers of Captain Drake returned to

him with reports of a very rough reception from a native dignitary.

Although annoyed by this rebuff, the adventurers attached but little

importance to it. Perhaps the native messenger had been clumsy over

his diplomatic dealings; maybe the hill chieftain had misunderstood

him: a second mission should be sent with suitable presents.

Accordingly, two of the gentlemen of the company, attended by half a

dozen soldiers and as many natives, left the camp on the river-bank and

threaded the steeply-pitched woods to the native village. An Indian

scout was thrown out in front, on the flanks, and in the rear, and the

white men kept solidly together in the centre.

They met with no opposition by the way, and in due time came out of the

trees and found themselves on a plateau about a mile square. On the

farther edge of this stood a cluster of stone-built huts, evidently

surrounded by a rude but effective wall. Before them stretched fields

of Indian corn, tall and green after the heavy rains. The evidences of

native civilization were greater than any the adventurers had hitherto

met. They halted for a brief consultation, then went forward again,

resolved to do their errand discreetly and warily. Not one inhabitant

was in sight, but, as the wall was neared, slim, brown figures were

espied slipping through the waving grain towards the gate.

A close view of the wall showed that the village was a fortress as well

as a place of habitation. The stones were rough from the hillside, and

quite untrimmed, but patience in selection and arrangement had produced

a compact rampart that could not easily be shattered or stormed. The

gate was of wood, and towered some feet above the top of the wall. It

was shut.

Sir John Trelawny was in command of the embassy, and he directed one of

the soldiers to go forward and sound a summons on his bugle. The man

did so. The musical notes rang back in double echoes from the hills,

and brought a hundred dark heads above the ramparts. Again the soldier

sent the sweet echoes flying. The strange notes had their effect on

the villagers, for a man came from the gate to the strangers and asked

their business. The Indian interpreter, who had been carefully

schooled on his way up, and who, moreover, was proud of the trust

reposed in him by the formidable white men, gave a dignified and

courteous answer. The white men were, he explained, creatures of

another world, a world that lay beneath the rising sun; the sun was

their father, and his glory was in his children's faces. They held the

thunder and lightning in the hollow of their hands, and could slay men

almost at a nod. Yet by nature they were kindly and generous, wishing

harm to none. They were passing down the river to a city of gold of

which they had heard; during the weeks of their voyage they had not

laid an unkindly hand on any man, nor appropriated any man's goods.

His own people, and all the tribes along the river, loved and

reverenced their white brothers, and would die for them.

The villager listened gravely enough, then swung round towards the

gate, saying he would carry the message to his chief faithfully and

without alteration. At the end of about half an hour he reappeared.

His chief would not see the white men, nor provide them with anything.

He had heard that the children of the sun were cruel and rapacious,

murdering and burning without mercy if they thought that thereby they

might get any of the yellow metal their souls lusted after so strongly.

The interpreter replied that this was true of one section of white men,

but his brothers were the enemies of those monsters, warring with them

whenever they met them. His brothers were the lordly eagles, and were

called "English;" the others were the voracious birds that stalked in

the mud, feeding on garbage; the chief had heard of these last, the

"Spaniards."'

The villager went away again, but returned quickly with his message

unaltered; the chief would not trust the strangers. It was useless to

ask him for guides to any city of gold, or to the shores of any lake

such as the white men desired. He had never heard of these places, and

did not believe they existed. The whole story was a trick to get the

country out of the hands of its inhabitants. The trick had worked in

the plains where the men had the hearts and brains of sick women; it

would not succeed with the "Brown Eagles" of the hills. Let the "White

Eagles" from the sun try their strength and wit against them if they so

desired.

This answer was uncompromising enough, and with it the messengers went

back again to the river. They had looked only into the face of one man

of a tribe of a thousand hillmen.

There was a long council round the camp fire that night, and for the

first time for some weeks sentinels were set, and keen watch and ward

kept until daybreak. A further consultation was held in the morning,

after each man had slept upon the suggestions of the previous evening.

It was not easy to decide upon a course of conduct. Hitherto the

adventurers had pursued their way in peace, and they were anxious to

avoid hostilities with the natives. They saw that nothing could be

gained by fighting the Indians. They were but a small company in a

strange land, and a thousand miles and more from the sea; their object

was gold, not conquest. Should they go on their way, leaving the

unfriendly chief in the security of his fastness? By so doing would

they be leaving an enemy in their rear? On the other hand, should they

bring him to his knees, and teach him to respect and fear the name of

England? How would their line of conduct operate on the minds of the

natives? The point was a delicate one. Some were for pushing ahead,

reaching their goal, and dealing with the hill village on their return;

others were hot to chastise the stubborn Indian at once, and break the

back of native opposition at a blow. Such was the Spanish method, and

no man could say that the Dons had not gotten wealth enough.

The latter council prevailed, and it was decided to attack the native

stronghold that very night under cover of the darkness. The solitary

cannon was taken out of the largest boat and fitted with slings, so

that the Indian allies might carry it. Arquebuses were diligently

cleaned, and all arms and armour attended to.

The forenoon passed busily enough. During the hot hours the men slept

beneath the trees. An hour before sunset supper was served out, and

whilst the men were eating it, a boat shot round the bend, and a loud

"Halloo!" announced the arrival of Morgan and his companions. This

unexpected addition to the fighting strength was heartily welcomed.

Sea-dogs all! · 第 35 / 51 章