I might find an excuse for being proud, if I were so,--not because my
ancestors were of exalted rank or title, or celebrated for noble deeds
or unbounded wealth, or, indeed, on account of any ordinary reasons,--
but because I was born in one of the highest cities in the world. I saw
the light in Quito, the capital of Ecuador, then forming the northern
part of the Spanish province of Peru. The first objects I remember
beyond the courtyard of our house in which I used to play, with its
fountain and flower-bed in the centre, and surrounding arches of
sun-burned bricks, were lofty mountains towering up into the sky. From
one of them, called Pichincha, which looked quite close through the
clear atmosphere of that region, I remember seeing flames of fire and
dark masses of smoke, intermingled with dust and ashes, spouting forth.
Now and then, when the wind blew from it, thick showers of dust fell
down over us, causing great consternation; for many thought that stones
and rocks might follow and overwhelm the city. All day long a lofty
column of smoke rose up towards the sky, and at night a vast mass of
fire was seen ascending from the summit; but no harm was done to the
city, so that we could gaze calmly at the spectacle without
apprehension. Pichincha is, indeed, only one of several mountains in
the neighbourhood from the tops of which bonfires occasionally blaze
forth. Further off, but rising still higher, is the glittering cone of
Cotopaxi, which, like a tyrant, has made its power felt by the
devastation it has often caused in the plains which surround its base:
while near it rise the peaks of Corazon and Ruminagui. Far more dreaded
than their fires is the quaking and heaving and tumbling about of the
earth, shaking down as it does human habitations and mountain-tops,
towers and steeples, and uprooting trees, and opening wide chasms,
turning streams from their courses, and overwhelming towns and villages,
and destroying in other ways the works of men's hands, and human beings
themselves, in its wild commotion.
These burning mountains, in spite of their fire and smoke, appear but
insignificant pigmies compared to that mighty mountain which rises in
their neighbourhood--the majestic Chimborazo. We could see far off its
snow-white dome, free of clouds, towering into the deep blue sky, many
thousand feet above the ocean; while on the other side its brother,
Tunguragua, shoots up above the surrounding heights, but, in spite of
its ambitious efforts, has failed to reach the same altitude I might
speak of Antisana, and many other lofty heights with hard names? but I
fancy that a fair idea may be formed of that wonderful region of giant
mountains from the description I have already given.
I used often to think that I should like to get to the top of
Chimborazo, the way up looked so easy at a distance; but no one has ever
reached its summit, though several valiant philosophers and others have
made the attempt.
The mountain range I have described, of which Chimborazo was long
considered the highest point, till Aconcagua in Chili was found to be
higher, rises from the ocean in the far-off southern end of America, and
runs up along its western shore, ever proud and grand, with snow-topped
heights rising tens of thousands of feet above the ocean, till it sinks
once more towards the northern extremity of the southern half of the
continent, running along the Isthmus of Panama, through Mexico at a less
elevation, again to rise in the almost unbroken range of the Rocky
Mountains, not to sink till it reaches the snow-covered plains of the
Arctic region.
But I am becoming too scientific and geographical; and I must confess
that it was not till many years after the time of which I am speaking
that I knew anything about the matter. My father, Don Martin Fiel, had
been for some years settled in Quito as a merchant. His mother was
Spanish, or partly so, born in Peru--I believe that she had some of the
blood of the Incas in her veins, a matter of which she was not a little
proud, I have been told--but his father was an Englishman, and our
proper family name was Faithful. My father, having lived for many years
in the Spanish South American provinces, had obtained the rights and
privileges of a Spaniard. He had, however, been sent over to England
for his education, and was a thorough Englishman at heart. He had made
during his younger days several visits to England for mercantile
purposes, and during one of them had married my mother. He was, though
really a Protestant--I am sorry to have to make the confession--
nominally a Roman Catholic; for he, being a Spanish subject, could not
otherwise at that time have resided in any part of the territories of
Spain and carried on his business with freedom: but I feel now that no
person has a right to conceal their true faith, and to pretend to
believe what is false, for the sake of any worldly advantage. My
mother, however, had stipulated that all her children should be brought
up as Protestants. To this he had agreed, though he found when he had
sons that he was in consequence subjected to considerable annoyance from
the priests, who threatened to denounce him as a heretic. To avoid
this, he had to send his children to England at an early age for their
education; indeed, had we remained at Quito we could only have obtained
a very poor one at any public school or college. It will be understood
from what I have said, that though we were really English, and I have
always felt like an Englishman, we had both Spanish and native
connections, which will account for some of the circumstances which
afterwards occurred to us.
My father, though he himself resided at Quito, had also a house of
business at Guayaquil, which imported European manufactured goods, and
exported in return Peruvian bark and other articles, of which I shall
by-and-by have to speak. He was greatly respected by his
fellow-citizens, although they might have been somewhat jealous of him
for succeeding in his business through his energy and perseverance,
while they themselves, sitting idle all the day smoking their cigarettes
without attempting to exert their minds, were left behind. My dear
mother lived very much alone, for the society of the ladies of Quito,
though they are very charming in manner, afforded her but little
satisfaction, from their utter want of education.
I remember the joy which the arrival of my eldest sister, Fanny--or Dona
Francisca, as the Spaniards called her--who had gone to school in
England, and Aunt Martha, who brought her back, caused in the family. I
had another sister, Ellen, much younger; a sweet, dear little girl, of
whom I was very fond. She was indeed the pet of the family. My elder
brother, John, was at school in England. I remember thinking Aunt
Martha, who was my mother's elder sister, very stiff and formal; and I
was not at all pleased when she expressed her intention of teaching me
and keeping me in order. My mother's health had been delicate, and I
had been left very much to the care of old Domingos, a negro servant of
my father's, who had been with him since his boyhood, and with my
grandfather before him. He was the butler, or major-domo, the head over
all the other servants, and, I believe, deservedly trusted. Among them
I remember best little Maria, a young negro slave girl who attended
especially on Ellen; and Antonio, a Gallego from the north of Spain, a
worthy, honest fellow, who had been in the family from his boyhood, and
was much attached to us all. I soon learned to like Aunt Martha better
than I had expected, for though I thought her looks very terrible at
first--and she was certainly firm--she was really kind and gentle.
Under her instruction I gained the first knowledge of the letters of the
alphabet, of which I was before profoundly ignorant. Of course she was
very gentle with Ellen, as everybody was, and Fanny seemed to be very
fond of her. She was courageous, too, as I before long had evidence. I
remember one night being suddenly lifted in her arms, and carried out by
her into the patio of courtyard. There was a strange rumbling noise
underneath our feet, and I could see the stout walls of our house
rocking to and fro; and yet, though the earth was tumbling about, she
did not tremble in the least, but I heard her telling the servants not
to shriek out or to pray to the saints, who could not help them, but to
put their trust in God, who made the world, and who would save them from
danger if it was his good will. It was a very fearful night, however,
and though I believe the earthquake did not last long, it tumbled down,
during the few minutes of its duration, a number of buildings, and many
of the inhabitants were buried beneath the ruins. Our house, however,
which was on the outskirts of the city, and had no upper story, although
some of the walls were cracked, escaped without further injury; and
before morning we were in our beds again, and I, for my part, was
sleeping soundly.
A short time after this I found that some great event was about to take
place, and I saw trunks being packed; and my mother, who had been ill
for some time, was very busy, and looked, I often thought, somewhat sad;
and then I heard that she and Ellen and I were going to England, to be
accompanied by Domingos and Maria, and that we were to remain there some
time, and that I was to go to school, and then, if my father did not
join us, that John and Ellen and I were to come back together with our
mother, unless she returned before that time. Aunt Martha and Fanny
were to stay and take care of my father. Of course I was highly
delighted when I heard this, and began packing a box with my playthings,
and all sorts of articles, and was very indignant when Maria told me
that they were not to go. I do not remember much about the journey,
except that my father came with us, and that the party rode on mules;
that Domingos carried me before him; that we went up and down mountains
and into deep valleys; and that sometimes it was very hot, and sometimes
very cold; and that we stopped at very uncivilised-looking
resting-places at night; and that at last we reached a large town, close
to the sea, which was, I have since learned, Guayaquil. I remember
seeing some magnificent fruits--pine-apples, oranges, lemons, limes,
alligator-pears, melons, and many others--and eating some of them, or
probably I should not have recollected the circumstance. The place was
very busy, and far more people were moving about than I had been
accustomed to see at Quito; and in the harbour were a number of
vessels--large ships and small ones, and curious rafts, on which the
natives were sailing or paddling about, called _balsas_. They were made
of light balsa wood, which is very buoyant. They were of all sizes, and
some had come in from a considerable distance along the coast. Then my
father accompanied us on board a big ship, and took an affectionate
leave of my mother and sister and me; and we all cried very much at
parting, at least Ellen and I did, though I was so well pleased with all
the sights I witnessed that I soon forgot my sorrow. Then the sails of
the _Pizarro_--that was the name of our ship--were set, and we glided
out of the harbour, while the boat containing my father returned to the
shore. The _Pizarro_ was, I should say, a Spanish ship, commanded by
Captain Lopez, a very worthy man, in whom my father had great
confidence, or he would not have committed our mother and us to his
charge. At that time Spanish vessels alone were allowed by the
Spaniards to trade to the ports of their colonies, which contributed
with many other causes greatly to retard their progress. I, however,
knew nothing about such matters at that time. I remember the compass in
the binnacle placed before a big wheel, at which a man was always
standing steering the ship, and I was told that we were sailing south.
I thought the ocean, which was blue, and calm, and glittering in the
sunshine, must be very wide, and wondered where it could end, or whether
it had an end towards the west. On the east was the coast of Peru, and
I could see the lofty snow-capped mountains rising up out of the plain,
looking as if they were intended to bear up the sky should it come down
towards the earth. Day after day we glided on. There they were as high
as ever, apparently quite close to us, though I heard the captain tell
my mother that they were fifty miles off or more. I scarcely believed
him, though I did not think so big and grave a man could tell a story.
I did not understand at that time to what a distance objects can be seen
in that pure, clear atmosphere. We after that stood off the coast for
many hours, and yet they appeared almost as high as ever. The mountains
I saw were the Andes or the Cordilleras, among which I had lived so long
without having a clear idea of their extent.
We were not idle during the voyage, for our mother set to work the
second day we were at sea to give us our lessons. She had made a point
of teaching us English as soon as we could utter a word; but though
Ellen spoke it very well from being always with her, I spoke Spanish
mixed with Quichua, the native Indian tongue, much more readily. We
now, however, learned all our lessons in English, and read a great deal,
so that I got on rapidly.
The weather at length began to grow unusually cold, and the sky was
covered with clouds. We put on warm clothes, and kept much oftener than
usual in the cabin. The ship too began to tumble about, and I thought
sometimes would be sent right over. I remember inquiring seriously if a
_waterquake_ were taking place; for I had hitherto seen the ocean so
calm, that I fancied it would always remain so, and that it was only the
earth which was given to shaking and tumbling about. The wind whistled
and roared, and the spray flew over the deck, and the sailors went out
on the yards and reefed the sails; but no one seemed to mind what was
happening, so I was soon content, and thought all was right; and when I
looked on the waves, it struck me that they were not a quarter as high
as the mountains I had been accustomed to see, and wondered how they
were able to tumble the great big ship about in the way they did. Still
on we went day after day, and I discovered that we were sailing in an
opposite direction to that we had before steered. I could not make it
out, till the captain showed me a chart, and gave me my first lesson in
geography on a grand scale; and I then saw that we had come down the
west coast of South America, and were now sailing northward along its
eastern coast.
I was very glad when I could go on deck again without greatcoat, and the
sun shone forth as brightly almost as it does at Quito. Then in a
little time the weather got very hot again, and there was no wind, and
the ship lay on the glassy sea, her white sails flapping against the
masts. There we lay day after day, and I began to think that at that
rate we should never get to England; but Captain Lopez told me that I
need not trouble myself about the matter, as the wind was sure to come
some day or other, and that then we should glide along as fast as ever.
I found that he was right, though we were becalmed several times after
that.
At length we saw the crew very busy in polishing up the ship, and
ranging the cables along the deck, as getting them ready for anchoring
in called; and men were aloft all day looking out ahead; and then came
the shout of "Terra! terra!--Espana!" and I found that we were
approaching the coast of Spain. The next morning when I went on deck
the ship was at anchor, surrounded by land, with a large city on one
side, and other towns or villages scattered about on the other. This
was the beautiful Bay of Cadiz. Near us lay a large ship with the
English flag flying at her peak. Captain Lopez went on board her, and
then hurried on shore with certain papers in his hand; and when he
returned, we all went on board the English ship. Soon after, the anchor
was hove up, the sails let fall, and away we sailed out of the harbour.
Thus we did not even set foot on Spanish soil. I asked my mother the
reason of this: she replied, that finding the ship on the point of
sailing, she did not like to lose the opportunity of going to England in
her; that the ship was called the _Inca_, commanded by Captain Byles,
with whom she and my father were acquainted.
I remember that Captain Byles was very kind and attentive, that the
cabin was very neat and clean--a quality for which that of the _Pizarro_
was not remarkable--while the English crew, many of whom were old
men-of-war's-men, paid off at the end of the war, were far more orderly
than the Spaniards. There was a black cook, Sam by name, and a white
goat. With the former we soon struck up a friendship, for he was
good-natured and kind to us, and a most intelligent fellow; the latter
used to chase us round and round the deck, and several times tumbled me
head over heels when I jumped before her to prevent her from butting at
Ellen. Of Sam I shall have to speak more by-and-by. I do not remember
many more incidents of the voyage till one day I saw the men heaving the
lead, and I found that we were in the chops of the Channel; and then I
heard the shout of "Land! land!" from one of the crew at the mast-head,
and I was told that England was in sight; and after a time I saw a
light-blue line away over the bow on the left side, and heard that it
was the Lizard, which I explained to Ellen was not a creature, but a
point of land at the west end of England. With a fine breeze,
studdingsails on either side, the colours flying, the sky bright and the
sea blue, the big ship, her canvas glittering in the sunlight glided
proudly up Channel. Even the gruffest old seaman began to smile, and
every one seemed in good spirits. At last a little one-masted vessel
came dancing over the small waves towards us, our sails were brailed up,
a boat put off from her, and a big man with huge whiskers, and rough
greatcoat, and broad-brimmed hat climbed up the side, and shook hands
with the captain; and I heard that the pilot had come on board, and that
we were sailing into the Downs. I went below, and on returning on deck
I looked up and saw, instead of the broad sheets of white canvas which
had so long been spread, the long yards above my head with the sails
closely furled. The ship was at anchor. In a short time the boat came
alongside, and my mother and sister and I, with our attendants, were
lowered into her. We rowed on shore, and went to a big house, where all
the people were wonderfully polite. I asked if this was to be our
future home, but my mother told me it was an inn--very unlike the
resting-places we had stopped at on our journey from Quito.
The next day we were all seated inside a yellow carriage, with Domingos
and Maria on the outside, and rolling away over the smooth road at a
great rate. We went on and on, changing horses every now and then,
through a country dotted about with houses which looked very large and
grand, and green trees which looked very small after those I had been
accustomed to see. At length the houses became thicker and thicker, and
we were driving through long streets with numberless carriages dashing
here and there, and carts, and vans, and vehicles of all sorts; and my
mother told me we were in London. We drove on, and I thought we should
soon be on the other side; but I found that we had not got nearly into
the centre of it. I had thought Quito a large city, but this, I
guessed, must be ten times larger. All the houses, too, looked
wonderfully high, and I thought if an earthquake were to occur, how
quickly they would all topple down. I asked my mother how people could
venture to build such tall houses. She laughed, and said that happily
in England there were no earthquakes; and that, in another city in the
north, there were houses ten stories high.
We stopped at last before a house in a long, dull-looking street, and a
gentleman came to the door and handed us all out, and kissed my mother
and Ellen and me, and welcomed us to England; and I found that he was
Uncle James, my mother's brother; and there was our aunt, his wife, and
a number of cousins, boys and girls; and we were all soon quite at home
and happy, though I did not exactly know what to do with myself.
A few days after that, Uncle James and my mother and I drove out in a
carriage, and there was a box on the top of it full of my clothes, and
several other things; and then I found that I was going to school. I
was rather pleased than otherwise; not that I wished to leave my mother
and Ellen, but I wanted to know what sort of a place school was. We
went some distance away from London, and stopped before a house with an
iron gate, and a huge stone lion on each side of it. We got out, and
were shown into a drawing-room, and there we sat, till a tall gentleman
dressed in black, with a very white head, made his appearance, and my
mother and Uncle James talked to him for some time; then he called me
up, patted me on the head, and told me he hoped that I should be a good
boy, and learn my lessons well. I did not feel quite comfortable when
my mother got up and kissed me again and again, and looked somewhat sad;
and then Uncle James wished me good-bye; and out they went, while the
tall gentleman kept me by the hand.
"Now, Harry Faithful," he said, "I will introduce you to your
school-fellows;" and he conducted me through a passage, at the end of
which was a door which opened out into a large open space covered with
gravel, with high walls on either side. A big tree stood in the centre,
and a vast number of boys of all ages were running about. Some had
hoops, others were jumping over long ropes, and others, with reins
fastened to their arms held by bigger boys, were scampering round and
round, playing at horses. Some were leaping over each other's backs,
and others were hopping about with their arms folded charging at each
other. I thought it very good fun, and hoped that was the way they were
always employed.
The tall gentleman, after waiting a minute or two, called out, "Antony
Nyass, come here. Here is the son of an old friend of your father's. I
expect you to look after him."
Then he turned round to me, and said, "When the bell rings, you will
come in with the rest, and we will lose no time in placing you."
"And so you are the new boy," said my companion. "What is your name?"
I told him. "Well, I am very glad you are come," he observed, "for I
want a chum. We will have all sorts of fun together. Will you have a
hoop? I have got a prime one which beats all those of the fellows in my
class; or will you go shares in a pair of leather reins?" I told him
that I should be very glad to do what he liked, and that I had plenty of
money, though I could not say how much, as I was not accustomed to
English coin, and could not remember what it was called. "Oh, I will
soon put you up to that," he said, laughing; "but do not show it now.
We will see by-and-by what you can do with it."
While we were speaking, a number of other boys collected round us, and
began to ask me all sorts of questions--who I was, who my friends were,
where I had come from, how old I was, and if I had ever been to another
school.
"Do not tell them," whispered Nyass.
"What is that you are saying, Master Tony!" exclaimed one of the boys.
"You are putting him up to some of your own tricks."
"I will tell you all by-and-by," I answered, taking my new friend's
hint.
"Can you run?" asked Tony. "Tell them that you will race any one of
them," he whispered.
"I do not know, but I will try," I replied.
"Who is for a race?" exclaimed Tony. "He will run you down to the
bottom of the play-ground and back again, and if he does not beat all
the fellows of his own size I shall be surprised."
I was light and active, and though I had never before run a race, having
no companions to run with, I did my best to follow out Tony's
suggestion. At the word, off I set as hard as I could tear; five or six
other fellows besides Tony ran also. He kept up with me, though we
distanced the rest. He touched the wall at the bottom, and I followed
his example.
"Now, back again as hard as you can go! I am the best runner of my size
in the school," he cried out, as he kept close to me; "if you beat me,
your fame is established, and the fellows will treat you with respect
after that."
I felt, however, very doubtful whether I could beat Tony; but I did my
best, and as we neared the point we started from I found myself drawing
ahead of him. "That is it!" he shouted; "keep on, and you will do it."
I suspected that he was letting me get ahead of him on purpose, and I
reached the starting-point four or five paces before him. I felt,
however, that I could not have run another minute if my life had
depended on it; while he came in without the slightest panting. The
other fellows followed mostly together, a short distance behind.
It is curious how slight a thing gives a boy a position at once in a
school. Thanks to Tony, I gained one at once, and ever afterwards kept
it. I do not intend to give an account of my school-life and
adventures, as I have more interesting matter to describe. I was placed
in the lowest class, as might have been expected. Although I knew
nothing of Latin, I was up to several things which my class-mates were
not, and as I did my best to learn, I soon caught up a number of them.
My friend Tony was in the class above me, and he was always ready to
give me any help. Though not quarrelsome, I had several battles to
fight, and got into scrapes now and then, but not often, and altogether
I believed I was getting on pretty well. Tony, my first acquaintance,
remained my firm friend. Although now and then we had quarrels, we
quickly made them up again. He used to listen with eager ears to the
accounts I gave him of my voyage, and the wonders of my native land. He
never laughed at my foreign accent, though the other boys did; but I
very soon got rid of it. I used to try to teach him Spanish, and the
Indian language, which I had learned from the servants; but I soon
forgot them myself, and had difficulty even in recalling a few words of
the tongue which I once spoke with ease.
"I say, Harry, I should so like to go out with you to that country,"
said Tony to me one day. "When you go back I must try and get my father
to let me accompany you."
I, of course, was well pleased at the proposal, and we talked for days
together of what we should do when we got out there. At last we began
to think that it was very hard we should have to wait till we had grown
big fellows like those at the head of the school, and Tony proposed that
we should start away by ourselves. We looked at the map, and considered
how we could best accomplish our object. We observed the mighty river
Amazon rising at no great distance--so it seemed on paper--from Quito
itself, and running right across the continent into the Atlantic.
"Will it not be fun paddling up by ourselves in a canoe!" exclaimed
Tony. "We will have guns to go on shore and shoot birds and beasts; and
when we grow tired of paddling we will sail along before the wind; and
we will have a tent, and sleep in it at night, and light a fire in front
of it to cook our suppers and keep off the wild beasts; and then, when
we arrive at the upper end of the river, we will sell our canoe to the
Indians, and trudge away on foot with knapsacks on our backs up the
mountains, till we reach your father's house; and will not he be
astonished to see us!"
I agreed with him in his last idea certainly, but I was puzzled to think
how we were to reach the mouth of the Amazon, and when we were there how
we were to procure canoe. All the rest appeared pretty easy in the way
Tony proposed it, and, after all, even on a big map, the river did not
look so very long.
"Well, my idea is," said Tony, "that we should save up all our
pocket-money, and then, some day when we have got very hard lessons to
do, or anything disagreeable takes place, run off, and get aboard a ship
sailing to South America. I should not mind being cabin-boy for a short
time; and as you know Spanish and Indian, you could tell the captain you
would interpret for him, and of course he would be very glad to have
you; and then, you know, we should soon learn to be sailors; and it will
be much pleasanter climbing about the rigging and up the masts and along
the yards than sitting at our desks all day bothering our heads with
Caesar and Ovid and sums and history and geography, and all that sort of
thing."
"But I have not got Caesar and Ovid to do yet," I observed; "and I want
to have a little more schooling; for Uncle James says I shall not be fit
for anything until I do. Do not you think we had better wait till I get
into your class, or rather higher still?"
Tony said he was much disappointed at my drawing back, which he argued I
was doing when I made these remarks. However, I spoke in perfect
sincerity, and fully believed that I should enjoy the adventure he
proposed just as much as he would. I had my doubts, however, whether we
should receive so favourable a reception at the end of our journey as he
supposed. However, he continued talking and talking about the matter,
till I agreed to consider what could be done during another half.
I spent my first holidays in London at Uncle James's, and my brother
John came there, and I was surprised to find what a big fellow he was.
We were very good friends, and he took me out to see a number of the
sights of London. We went, among other places, to Exeter Change, where
there were all sorts of wild beasts. I had no idea until then that
there were so many in the world. I was highly interested, and learned
the names of nearly all of them; and John told me where they had come
from, and all about their habits. Then Uncle James gave me a book of
natural history, which I read with great delight. I found by the book
that the beasts I had seen at Exeter Change were only a very small
number of those which exist in different parts of the world. I liked
that book of natural history better than any I had ever read; except,
perhaps, "Robinson Crusoe," which Tony had lent me, and which he said
was the best book that ever was written. I thus gained a very
considerable knowledge of the quadrupeds and the feathered tribes of the
animal kingdom, and Uncle James said he thought some day I should become
a first-rate naturalist, if I had opportunities of studying the
creatures in their native wild. I resolved the next summer holidays,
which were to be spent in the country, to catch as many of the creatures
as I could, and form a menagerie of my own. I should say I had not told
John of the plan Tony and I had in contemplation--of exploring the
Amazon by ourselves. I thought, from some of his remarks, that he
possibly might not approve of it.
I soon got tired of London, after I had seen the usual sights, though I
was glad to be with my mother and Ellen and my cousins. John also was
very kind, but he was such a big fellow that I stood in as much awe of
him as I did of my uncle. I was not sorry, therefore, to find myself at
school with companions of my own age. As the weather was very cold,
Tony and I agreed that we would put off our expedition till the summer,
and in the meantime we talked of the menagerie I proposed making, and
other subjects of equal importance, which prevented us thinking about
the former matter.
I had a good many friends among my school-fellows. Arthur Mallet, next
to Tony, was my chief friend. He was by several months my junior--a
delicate, gentle boy, amiable, sensible, and clever. He was liked by
the masters as well as by the boys, and that is saying much in his
favour. Poor fellow, notwithstanding this he was frequently out of
spirits. I asked him one day why he looked so sad. He was silent for
some minutes. "I will tell you, Harry," he said at length. "I am
thinking of my mother. She is dying. I know it, for she told me so.
She never deceived me. When she has gone I shall have no one to care
for me--and--and--Harry, I shall have to depend on the charity of
strangers for support. She urged me to work hard, that I might be
independent; but it will be a long time before I can become so. For
myself I do not so much mind, but it troubles my mother greatly; and
then to have her die--though I know she is going to heaven--I cannot
bear the thought." He said more in the same style. "And then, should
my father come back--oh, what will he do!" he added.
"I thought from what you said that you had no father," I remarked.
"Where is he then, Arthur?"
"That is what I do not know," he answered. "Do not speak about it to
any one, Harry. He went away a long time ago, on account of something
that had happened. He could not bear to stay in England. But he was
not to blame. That is all I know. He could not take her with him; and
my grandmother and aunts with whom she was left died, and their fortune
was lost; and what she has now got is only for her life, and that
troubles her also greatly."
I tried as well as I could to comfort Arthur, and after this felt more
than ever anxious to stand by him an a friend. "I may some day be able
to help him," I thought--but I did not tell him so. Our friendship had
been disinterested, and thus I wished it to remain.
I said that I had many friends at school, but there were some few whom I
looked upon in a contrary light; especially one big boy, Houlston, of
whom all the little ones were dreadfully afraid. He used to make us do
anything that seized his fancy, and if we ventured to refuse, often
thrashed us. Poor Arthur Mallet frequently came in for his
ill-treatment, and bore it, we all thought, with far too much patience.
At last Tony and I and a few other fellows agreed that we would stand it
no longer. One day Houlston and one of the upper form boys, who was
younger than himself, had a dispute. We thought that he was going to
thrash the other fellow; but the latter standing up in his own defence,
Houlston walked off, not venturing, as we supposed, to encounter him.
This, of course, gave us courage. A few day afterwards Tony was
reading, when Houlston, coming by, seized his book, saying he wanted it.
Tony watched his opportunity, and snatching it up, made off out of the
school-room, through the play-ground into a yard on one side, which, not
being overlooked by any of the windows from the house, was the usual
place for pugilistic encounters. Houlston followed. I saw Arthur
Mallet and several of those who had promised to side with us standing
near. Arthur joined us, though somewhat unwillingly. We made chase.
Tony, who had fled to the yard, was at length overtaken by his pursuer,
who began hitting him over the head and shoulders. I signed to my
companions, and making a spring, jumped on Houlston's back and began
belabouring him with might and main. I shouted to the others to come on
and attack him on either side. He was furious, and struck out right and
left at them; but I, clinging pertinaciously to his back, prevented his
blows having due effect. My companions on this closed in, and two of
them seizing him by the legs, down he came, with me still clinging to
his back. The rest now threw themselves upon him. Handkerchiefs were
brought out, and in spite of his struggles they managed to tie his arms
behind him, while I kept him down. Though he kicked out furiously, by
jumping on his body we succeeded in securing his legs, and we thus had
him in our power. It was in the evening of a half-holiday. On one side
of the yard was a wood-shed. Into this we dragged him. Astonishment
and the efforts he made to free himself had prevented him from shouting
for help. Before he had uttered a cry, Rawlings, one of the biggest of
our party, running up, shoved a handkerchief into his mouth, which
completely gagged him. We then all ran away, leaving him without
compunction in the dark and cold. Assembling again in the school-room,
we agreed to leave him till somebody coming by might release him.
Tea-time came, and Houlston did not make his appearance. I began to
grow anxious, and communicated my fears to Arthur, who sat next to me.
Still he did not come. Tea was over. At last Arthur entreated that we
would go and ascertain what was the matter. It was now quite dark. I
remember quite well the uncomfortable feeling I had, as, stealing out,
we groped our way in the dark to the yard. On approaching the
wood-house we heard a groan. Could it proceed from Houlston? My heart
beat more tranquilly, though, for the groan showed that he was alive.
We crept in. He was where we had left him; but his hands were icy cold.
I bethought me first of withdrawing the handkerchief from his mouth.
Some of the fellows proposed leaving him again.
"Oh no, no; pray don't do that!" exclaimed Arthur. "Perhaps he will
promise to give up bullying if we agree to cast him loose."
"You hear that, Houlston?" said Tony. "Will you become a good fellow
and treat the little chaps properly, or will you spend the night out
here?"
Houlston only grumbled out some words which we could not understand. At
last we heard him say, "What is it you want?" It was evident from his
tone that he was greatly humbled. That is not surprising, for he must
have been very cold and very hungry, and Tony repeated the question.
"He will not promise. We must put the gag in again," said two or three
of the other fellows.
"Will you promise?" asked Tony again.
"Oh, do let him go!" again exclaimed Arthur, whose kind heart was moved
by the pitiable condition of our captive. "He will promise--I know he
will; and I do not mind if he bullies me ever so much. We should think
any one very cruel who kept us out in the cold as we have kept him. I
am sure that he will promise what we ask--won't you, Houlston?"
"No, he will not," said another boy. "He will have a couple of hours to
wait till the names are called over, and perhaps somebody will then come
and look for him. He will be much colder by that time."
"Oh yes, I will promise!" cried Houlston. "Let me go, and I will not
bully you little fellows any more. Just try me. And I will remember
what Mallet said--he has more feeling than any of you; I did not expect
him to have spoken as he has, for I treated him always worse than any of
you."
"You promise, on your word of honour," said Tony; "and you will not go
and complain of us? You must promise that too."
Houlston was completely humbled. He promised all we demanded.
"We may trust to his word. I am sure we may!" exclaimed Arthur. "Oh,
do let us loose him!"
"Thank you, Mallet. Thank you, Faithful. I am much obliged to you,"
whispered Houlston, as Arthur undid the handkerchief which bound his
wrists. The others were in the meantime casting off those round his
legs. We lifted him up, for he was so numbed and chilled that he could
not walk. Arthur had brought a slice of bread and butter doubled up in
his pocket. He offered it to Houlston, who took it gratefully. His
clothes, I felt, were covered with chips of wood and dust. We brushed
him with our hands as well as we could in the dark, and then led him
back into the playroom, where the boys were collecting after tea. I
watched him narrowly, fearing mat he might tell some of the big fellows
what had happened; but he went to his box without speaking to any one,
and then taking up his books, proceeded to the school-room to learn his
lessons for the next day. We kept our counsel, and were convinced that
Houlston wisely kept his, for not a word did he utter to any of his
companions of what had occurred. From that day forward he was generally
kind and good-natured, and especially so to Arthur Mallet. He helped
him in his lessons, and was constantly making him presents of such
things as boys prize, though older people may not set much value on
them. Though he might lose his temper with others, he never did so with
Arthur, and always seemed anxious to show his friendly feeling in a
variety of ways. I have seldom seen a fellow so greatly changed for the
better as Houlston became, owing, I believe, greatly to the way Arthur
had pleaded his cause when the rest of us seemed inclined to revenge
ourselves still further than we had already done.
I should not have mentioned the circumstance, except for the sake of the
moral it taught me. There is an old saying, that when a bull runs at
you the best way of escaping him is to seize him by the horns; and from
the manner we overcame Houlston, I am convinced of the wisdom of the
advice. Ever since, when a difficulty has occurred, I have seized it
boldly, grappled with it as we grappled with Houlston, summoned up all
my courage, resolution, and strength, just as Tony and I called our
companions to our assistance, and dragged it, metaphorically speaking,
to the ground, gagged it as we gagged the bully, and not let it loose
again till I have been convinced that it would no longer trouble me.
Again, when I have had any difficult thing to do, I have done it at
once, or tried my best to do it. I have never put off a disagreeable
thing which I may have had to do till another day. I have got it over
as soon as possible, whatever it may have been. I have generally found
that the anticipation is worse than the reality. I cannot understand
what made Houlston take to bullying; and I must say after this he showed
much good feeling, and became a firm friend both to Tony and me, not
appearing to harbour any ill-feeling for the way we had treated him.
I must hurry over my school-boy days. I was not able to carry out my
plan of the menagerie the next summer. My uncle, instead of going to
his country house, took us all to the sea-side. I, however, on that
occasion picked up a good deal of knowledge about vessels and boats, and
fish, and marine animals; and instead of a menagerie we had an aquarium,
into which we used to put the small fish and other creatures we caught
in the pools on the rocks. I was making an important step in the study
of natural history--gaining the custom of observing the habits of
creatures. The following year I carried out my long-intended plan,
having induced one of my cousins to join me in it. We made several
cages and boxes; and among our captives we numbered a couple of rabbits,
a weasel, hedgehog, ferret, and stoat, with a number of pigeons and
other birds, and, I may add, three or four snakes. We caught a viper--
or, as it is frequently called, an adder--the only venomous creature
which exist in England; but my uncle objected to our keeping it alive,
though he consented to its being turned into a bottle of spirits. We
killed another, and cut off its head to observe its poisonous fangs. On
dissecting the head, we found that the fangs exist on either side of the
upper jaw, in which they lie down flat towards the throat. They are on
hinges, the roots connected with little bags of poison. When the
creature is irritated and about to bite, these fangs rise up. They are
hollow, with small orifices at their points. When biting, the roots of
the fangs are pressed against the bags of poison, which thus exudes
through the orifices and enters the wound they make. All venomous
serpents are provided with fangs, but in the jaws of some species the
fangs, instead of lying down, are always erect, ready for action. The
nature of the poison varies in different species. The poison of some
produces paralysis; that of others causes the body when bitten to swell
and become putrid. The venom of some is so powerful that it rapidly
courses through the veins and destroys life in a few minutes; that of
others makes much slower progress. The English viper, or adder, has but
a small quantity of poison in its bag, and its bite rarely produces
death. Some of the smallest snakes, in tropical climes, are the most
venomous. However, I shall by-and-by have a good deal to say on the
subject.
From what I have mentioned, it will be understood that I had already got
a taste for and some insight into natural history, and when I returned
to school I was able to discourse very learnedly on the subject. This
made Tony more anxious to carry out our long-projected undertaking.
Still, as we were very well treated at school, we had no excuse for
running away, and put it off from day to day. At length, in truth, we
began to grow wiser, and look at it in a different light. Tony, indeed,
one day confided his plan to Houlston.
"Well, when you make up your mind to go, just tell me," said Houlston.
"What I would you go with us?" exclaimed Tony. "That would be capital.
With a big fellow like you we should be able to make our way anywhere."
"Not exactly that," was the answer. "I'll tell you what I should do,
Nyass. As soon as I found that you had started, I should make chase
after you and bring you back. Depend upon it, it would be the best mark
of friendship I could show you! Time enough by-and-by--when you have
gone through school and been at college, and got a little more knowledge
than you now possess in your heads--to start on such an expedition. I
have a great notion that I should like to do something of the sort
myself; so, if you ever start on an expedition to South America or any
other part of the world, find me out if you can, and let me know, and
then perhaps I shall be ready to accompany you."
These sensible remarks of Houlston put Tony completely off his purpose,
and we finally agreed to follow the advice of our school-fellow, and
wait patiently till we had finished our studies.
In the meantime I should say that my mother had rejoined my father at
Quito. When I first came to England I thought that the time when I
should leave school was a very long way off. It seemed like a dream
when I found myself at last a big fellow of sixteen at the commencement
of the summer holidays. There was Ellen, almost a grown-up young lady--
in my eyes, at all events--and John, who had been in Uncle James's
counting-house in London, a man with big whiskers.
"Well, Harry," said Uncle James, "would you like to go back to school,
or accompany John and Ellen to South America? Your father wishes to
have John's assistance, and perhaps you also can make yourself useful."
Although by this time I found school a far pleasanter place than when I
was a little boy, yet, as may be supposed, I did not take long to
decide.
"I will accompany John," I said without hesitation.
"We shall have to part with you soon, then, I am sorry to say," observed
my uncle; "for Captain Byles, who still commands the _Inca_, is about to
sail for Guayaquil. In consequence of the emancipation of the Spanish
South American provinces from the iron yoke of the mother country, their
ports are now free, and ships of all nations can trade to them, which
was not the case when you came home. Captain Byles has twice before
been to the Pacific, and we have resolved to send the _Inca_ there
again. He will be very glad to have you as passenger. You must lose no
time, therefore, in getting ready."
I replied very honestly that I was sorry to leave him and aunt and
cousins; but, at the same time, I could not help feeling delighted at
the thought of again seeing my father and mother and Fanny, and
revisiting the magnificent scenes which had made so deep an impression
upon my mind, besides being able to indulge on a large scale in the
study of the natural history of that wonderful region. I did not forget
my friends, Tony and Arthur Mallet, and as soon as I had time I sat down
and wrote to them both. At the end of a week I received the following
reply from Tony:--
"Dear Harry,--Your letter threw me into a state of wild commotion. You
to be actually starting for the country we have so often talked about,
while, as far as I could see, I was destined to stick quietly at a desk
in my father's counting-house. After thinking the matter over, however,
and recollecting how kind and considerate he has always been, I
determined to show him your letter, and tell him frankly of my
long-cherished wish to go abroad. He talked to me a good deal to
ascertain whether I was in earnest. `I did not wish to send you from
me,' he said at last; `but I will now tell you that a few months ago I
received a letter from a cousin of mine who has lately established a
house of business at Para in Brazil, requesting me to send out two
steady lads as clerks, adding that he should be very glad to receive a
son of mine if I could spare him.' I jumped at the idea; for though I
should have liked to have gone out with you, Harry, yet, as I have no
means of doing that, I am delighted to go to Para, because, as it is at
the mouth of the Amazon, it is the very place of all others I should
have chosen. It is where we proposed going to when we used to talk of
our expedition up the mighty river, and perhaps, after all, we may be
able somehow or other to realise those wild fancies of our early days.
To be sure, when I come to measure off the distance on the map, which we
did not then think of doing, I find that Quito and Para are a tremendous
long way apart. Still, perhaps some day or other we may be able to
accomplish a meeting. At all events, I told my father that I was
willing to accept our cousin's offer, and at the same time I put in a
word for Houlston, from whom I had heard a few days before, telling me
that he was looking about for something to do, and ready to do anything
or go anywhere. He has no parents, or brothers or sisters, or any tie
to keep him in England. I showed his letter to my father, and told him
that he was a big, strong fellow, and that though I did not much like
him when I was a little fellow, he was greatly improved. My father on
this said he would send for him, and should he possess the necessary
qualifications, he should be very glad to recommend him for the
appointment. Houlston came, and as he writes well, and is a good hand
at arithmetic, and has a fair amount of knowledge on other matters, my
father told me that he would recommend him for the appointment. The
long and short of the matter is, that Houlston and I are to go up to
London with my father in a few days, to get our outfits, and to secure a
passage by the first vessel sailing for Para or the nearest port to it
in Brazil. We shall meet, Harry, and we will then talk matters over,
and, I hope, strike out some plan by which we may be able to carry out
our early designs, although perhaps not in the same way we formerly
proposed. Houlston sends his kind regards to you, and says he shall be
very happy to meet you again _Adeos, meu amigo_--that is, Good-bye, my
friend. I have lost no time in beginning to learn Portuguese, which is
the language the Brazilians speak, and I intend to work hard at it on
the voyage, so as to be able to talk away in a fashion when I land.--
Your sincere old friend, Antony Nyass."
I was very glad to get this letter, but was much disappointed at not
hearing from Arthur. Another day's post, however, brought me a letter
from him. I should have said that he had left school three months
before, and that I had not since heard from him. His letter was a very
sad one. I gathered from it that what he had dreaded had come to pass.
His mother was dead, and he was left almost destitute, though he tried
to hide from me as much as possible the fact of his poverty.
I at once made up my mind what to do. I took the letter to my uncle,
told him all about Arthur, and entreated that he might be sent out with
us in the _Inca_. "I will answer for it that he will amply repay all
the kindness he may receive," I added. Uncle James said that he would
consider the matter, and in the course of the day told me, to my great
satisfaction, that I might write to Mallet and invite him to come up to
town. Arthur lost no time in obeying the summons. My uncle was much
pleased with him, and Arthur gratefully accepted the proposal that he
should accompany us to Quito.
Two days afterwards Tony and Houlston arrived in London. A ship for
Para was on the point of sailing. They had therefore to hurry on their
preparations. They spent the evening with us at my uncle's, and John
told me that he liked Houlston very well, and hoped some day to see him
again. Tony he thought a capital fellow--so enthusiastic and
warm-hearted, yet not wanting in sense; but Arthur, as I knew he would,
he liked better than either. Tony brought with him a beautiful black
cocker spaniel. "Here, Harry, I want you to accept this fellow as a
keepsake from me," he said, leading the dog up to me. "Pat him on the
head, call him True, and tell him you are going to be his master, and he
will understand you. He can do everything but talk; but though he does
not often give tongue, he is as brave as a lion."
I warmly thanked Tony for his gift as I patted True, who jumped up and
licked my hand. "But you want a dog for yourself. I scarcely like to
take him from you," I said.
"Set your mind at rest; I have his brother--whom I left at our
lodgings--his equal in most respects, if not quite so great a beauty,"
he answered. "You will excuse me, I know. I have called my dog
`Faithful,' after you. As I cannot have you with me, I wanted something
to remind me of you; and faithful I am sure he will prove to me, as
yours will prove true to you."
I thanked Tony for his kind feeling for me, and assured him that I
considered it a compliment that he had called his dog after me.
True was indeed a beauty--a Welsh cocker--somewhat larger than usual
perhaps. He came up in his moral qualities to all Tony had said about
him. He took to me at once, and a true friend he ever proved. We
accompanied our friends aboard their ship, which was a Portuguese,
called the _Vasco da Gama_. She was a fine large vessel. The crew were
small and swarthy, but active-looking fellows, most of them wearing long
red caps on their heads, and blue or pink-striped shirts, with knives
stuck in their girdles. They jabbered and shouted tremendously as they
got under weigh. Tony and Houlston stood on the poop bidding us
farewell. "We shall meet, Harry! we shall meet!" Tony cried out.
"Good-bye, Harry; good-bye, Arthur; good-bye, old fellows!"
"Perhaps we shall overtake you on the voyage!" shouted John.
"Not much fear of that," answered Houlston.
We were soon too far off to exchange further words, though we could hear
the voices of the crew even when we had got to a considerable distance
from the ship.