It was a glorious morning when the search party embarked on the raft two
days after the capture of the mammoth river-serpent, to which Mary the
discoverer had given the name of the demon-snake. Of course the creature
had been skinned, and his shining, scaly coat was pegged out in the hot
sun, which soon dried it up without any further curing being necessary.
Then it was neatly rolled and tied up by the Indians, and placed on one
of the pack-horses.
It had been decided to drive these horses, and all the other ones as
well, another ten miles or so, where Piñone reported rich pasturage to
abound, and turn them loose thereon under the care of their bell mare, a
steady old lady, so called because she always wore a bell around her
neck, the tinkling of which while she fed kept the rest of the herd
together. She was pretty well to be trusted not to stray away from these
plentiful feeding grounds, and the Indians knew that the others would
not leave her.
No sooner, therefore, had the animals been committed to her care, and
the saddles and the rest of the equipments stacked in the centre of the
raft, than every one embarked, and the punters set to work to propel the
craft up stream. Harry and Topsie, and indeed all the others, were
looking out eagerly for the white Trauco settlement, through which
Piñone had told them they would pass that day. He had no idea what their
reception would be, however; and after consultation with Sir Francis, it
was decided to lay to some two miles before the spot was reached, and to
send a spy party to reconnoitre, and to see if danger lay ahead. If it
was ascertained that the station was quiet, a forward movement could be
made at once, but if a large number of Traucos were discerned to be in
temporary possession of the locality, it was deemed prudent to delay an
advance until they had proceeded on their way. The fact was, that Sir
Francis wished, if possible, to avoid collision with these strange
people, of whose humanity he had little doubt. He had not forgotten the
pathetic death of the Trauco who had stolen Topsie, while the splendid
courage and self-sacrifice of the Trauco queen, had raised her people in
his estimation high above the realm wherein the brute creation dwells.
Thus, when they had proceeded up the river for several hours, Piñone
called a halt, and the raft was paddled to land and made fast in the
shade of the forest, and under the overhanging branches of a great tree.
He then selected to accompany him, Harry and Topsie, Aniwee, Graviel,
and two of his Indian followers, and with a caution to Sir Francis to be
on the _qui vive_, the Indian chief stole noiselessly forward, with
Aniwee and his two white friends beside him, and the others following
closely in the rear.
At first the going was pretty easy, but soon, Piñone having dived deeper
into the forest, progress became more difficult. They had to keep a
sharp look-out too, for there was no knowing what these strange,
unexplored forests contained, and they might at any moment be confronted
by an angry jaguar, or, more terrible still, an Andes demon, to say
nothing of creatures yet unseen, and yet in all probability no less
existent, for the vast solitudes which stretch beneath the mighty chain
of South America’s giants have yet to be explored; and who knows what
wonders they may not have in store for the adventurous explorer who is
hardy enough to penetrate their mysterious depths?
As luck would have it, however, nothing arose to dispute the passage of
the small reconnoitring party, and after about an hour’s fight with the
dense undergrowth the Indian cacique was able to call a halt. Then,
laying his fingers on his lips, he stole forward in the direction of the
river, signing to the others to follow as quietly as possible.
Now the river for some time had been hidden from view, and with it the
opposite banks thereof. Aniwee and her companions were therefore not a
little astonished when, with its sudden appearance, a strange scene
presented itself to their gaze on the frontage across the water.
Peering through some thick bushes behind which they lay effectively
concealed, they made out the figures of some thirty or forty Traucos,
all stretched out, or sitting in the sun and basking themselves in its
rays. Two large rafts lay moored to the shore, of which both the centres
were piled up with fruit. Behind, and higher up the bank, stood several
bright green huts newly thatched, and sitting outside them were six
white hairy forms, the Albino Traucos.
But as she looked upon this novel scene Aniwee could hardly repress a
cry, as her eyes alighted on a tiny figure which she knew full well.
Under a big awning of green branches, and lying on a thick jaguar skin,
playing with two little Traucos a shade bigger than herself, lay La
Guardia Chica, the little Indian child, upon whom the malice of Inacayal
had fallen, Aniwee’s baby girl, the love of her tender heart. Her
impulse was to spring forward, but with a tremendous effort she
restrained herself, and Piñone, half divining the temptation, laid his
hand on her arm.
“Courage, Aniwee,” he whispered; “see, La Guardia Chica does not suffer.
Did I not tell thee, Carita, that they would treat her with kindness and
care? Did I not say well?”
The Indian girl nodded, and a look of relief overspread her hitherto
anxious, eager face, as she inquired, “But cannot we rescue her now,
Piñone?”
“And lose her perchance for ever,” answered the young chief quickly.
“No, no, Aniwee; the child can only be safely secured by cunning and
ruse. The Traucos are merely resting ere proceeding up the river, and in
a short space they will embark on their journey up country. We must
watch for their departure, and make no attempt to pass this spot on our
raft until the white Traucos are asleep. I see well that if they
perceived us they would probably carry forward the alarm, and put the
village on its guard, and thus we should lose the child, and place
ourselves and our friends in a most dangerous position. Piñone has
spoken.”
“And wisely, I feel sure, Aniwee,” put in Topsie kindly. “It would be
madness to discover ourselves just now. Let us squat down here as Piñone
advises, watch the Traucos depart, and then return to the raft.”
Softly and quietly the little reconnoitring party went down on their
knees, and thence into a more comfortable position, keeping their eyes
fixed upon the scene before them. Aniwee never took hers off her child,
who appeared very happy, and who had evidently struck up a firm
friendship with its little comrades.
The watchers had not very long to wait, for suddenly the leader of the
Trauco party arose, and clapping his hands gave the signal for
departure. With prompt discipline all the others sprang up, and began
trooping towards the raft, and then the Indian girl saw her child lifted
up by a big Trauco, who kissed it gently, and carried it down to the
water’s edge. Here it was made pleased and comfortable once more on its
jaguar skin, and its tiny comrades restored to it, whereat Aniwee could
hear it laughing and crowing with delight. And a smile parted the girl’s
lips as she watched her darling play, and a great load was lifted off
her mind, for she knew that at least it was happy, well, and well cared
for.
Having divided themselves into two companies, the Traucos took their
places on the rafts, their Albino brethren, with staves uplifted,
superintending their departure. In a short time both crafts were under
weigh, and La Guardia Chica passed out of the sight of its yearning
mother’s gaze, as it floated up stream with its hairy companions, still
laughing, and crowing, and clapping its tiny hands, altogether oblivious
that close by, its father and mother watched it with hungry eyes.
As soon as the rafts had disappeared, the reconnoitring party stole
quietly forth from their place of observation, and made their way back
towards those awaiting them down stream. There was nothing to keep them
any longer, as the white Traucos had retired to their huts as soon as
their brown brethren had taken their departure. Piñone, too, was all
eagerness to report the result of the expedition to Sir Francis, and to
take counsel with the great white Cacique, as he called him, and in whom
he placed the highest confidence.
“Aunt Ruby, Aunt Ruby, we have had such luck,” cried Harry excitedly, as
he and his companions rejoined the others on the river’s banks.
“How, dear boy?” inquired Lady Vane, as she laid her hand on the eager
young midshipman’s shoulder, while his cousins crowded round to hear the
news.
“We’ve sighted the lost lamb, Aunt Ruby; we saw the Guardia Chica
amongst the Traucos. She looked awfully well and happy, and not a bit
like a prisoner, I can tell you.”
“Then they treat her properly, Harry, you think?” again inquired his
aunt.
“Rather, Aunt Ruby, and the picaninny was clapping her hands, and
playing all sorts of high jinks with two dear little Traucolings, about
her own age, and who looked just like wee balls of fur. I never saw such
ducks as they were.”
Here Piñone claimed Sir Francis’s ear, and a council was at once held.
It was decided to try and snatch a few hours’ sleep until sundown, and
to start as the shades of evening fell. In this way they would escape
observation by the Albinos, as they punted past that small, queer
station on the river’s banks. Thence he proposed to make way for some
fifteen miles or so, and as that would bring them into territory
frequented by Traucos, to lay concealed during the daytime, proceeding
on again next night. His object was to pass the head-quarters of the
hairy people unnoticed, take the raft some miles up stream, where it
could be concealed in a small side affluent of the river, and which he
had frequently taken notice of during his up country expeditions with
the Trauco queen. From this point of vantage reconnoitring would have to
be resorted to, observations carefully taken of the whereabouts of the
baby Cacique, and a well-organised rescue raid undertaken, if no other
suitable plan could be decided upon.
Thus, after an interval for rest, the rescue party set forth once more
in the track of the tiny prisoner. A lovely moon lit them on their way,
and the stars gleamed through the dark forest with curious gaze,
scrutinising the unwonted sight, which presented itself in the picture
of this small band of pioneers, passing through the old primeval
strongholds, which had until then resisted the presence of civilised
man, tolerating only the human species in the shape of the strange,
hairy, large-eyed beings, to whom the Araucanians gave the name of
Trauco.
There is something inexpressibly delightful in penetrating unexplored
regions, regions virgin hitherto to the foot of civilised man. The
thrilling sensation which pervades the explorer can only be properly
realised by one who has experienced it, and there is no language which
adequately conveys the mixed feelings with which one surveys a beautiful
and hitherto unveiled scene, and realises that one is the first that yet
has burst upon its lonely loveliness. So thought the young Vanes, as
they lay outstretched on the raft, and revelled in the beauty which that
moonlight night unveiled before them. Though these children had
travelled far and wide, and had had various opportunities for feasting
their eyes upon the glorious creations of God, they all agreed that
nothing lovelier than this moonlight scene had ever gladdened them
before.
An hour’s punting brought them parallel with the Albinos’ huts, and the
greatest caution was observed in passing them. All held their breath
while the punters dipped their long poles gently into the water, and
sent the raft swiftly against the stream. It was a critical moment, and
all felt that the success of the expedition hung on the slender chance
of avoiding detection. All prayed silently for success—our white friends
to God, the Indians to their good Gualichu. And the prayer was answered,
as the raft glided by the dangerous spot, and passed up stream in the
darkness of night.
[Illustration]