WE MAKE A PLATFORM--A SAIL!--THE MISSING ONES ARRIVE--MY FATHER
DESCRIBES THEIR ADVENTURES--DUTCH DETERMINATION--VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY--A
CALM--I CATCH A LARGE FISH--THE RAFT ON FIRE--ABOUT SHIP.
Two days passed by, spent much as those I have before described. The
calm continued; not a breath of air stirred the mud-tinted expanse of
water stretching out to the northward. Up to this time the flood had
not in the slightest degree decreased; indeed, the mark Uncle Paul had
made on the first day showed that it had rather increased an inch or
two. At all events, there was no present prospect, as far as we could
see, of our getting away from our present abode. Arthur proposed that
we should form a raft. This would not have been difficult, as we had
several large knives among us, and with some labour we might have cut
off branches from the trees and bound them together with sepos. But
then the question arose, In what direction should we go, even supposing
that we could form a raft to hold the whole party? We might have to
paddle, for aught we knew to the contrary, for days and days together
before we could reach dry land; and when there, were we likely to be
better off than where we were at present? Taking all things into
consideration, Uncle Paul decided, when his advice was asked, that it
would be better to let well alone, and to remain in the grove. Vessels
went occasionally up and down the river, and when the water subsided we
might be seen by one of them, and be taken off. We should thus,
however, run the risk of again falling into the hands of the Spaniards,
and Uncle Paul especially was very unwilling to trust to their tender
mercies.
"My opinion is that we should remain here till we are compelled to move,
and then make our way up one of the many streams to the south, which
rise in the Dutch territories, where we are sure to meet with a friendly
reception," he observed. Arthur agreed with him, and the rest of the
party were willing to be guided by their decision.
It was proposed, as there was a probability of our spending some weeks
in our present abode, that we should endeavour to render it more
habitable than at present. Kallolo described to us how a tribe of
natives in the neighbourhood make platforms, resting on the trunks of
the palm-trees, where they and their families live in comparative
comfort during the whole period of the inundation. The idea, being
started, was highly approved of, and we all immediately set to work to
get long poles for the purpose. A spot was selected, higher up the
tree, where a number of branches ran out horizontally, almost level with
each other. As soon as a pole was cut it was secured with sepos, Uncle
Paul and Sambo exercising their nautical knowledge for the purpose. It
required no small number of poles, but the little forest afforded an
abundant supply. Before the end of the day the platform was completed.
We then built a hut on it, devoted to Marian's use. The only thing
wanting was a quantity of clay to form a hearth; but clay, while the
waters covered the earth, it was impossible to obtain. We had therefore
to light our fire, as before, on the thick branch, on which it had as
yet made no impression, beyond burning off the bark and blackening it.
As soon as our platform was finished we moved on to it, though Kallolo
and Sambo preferred sleeping among the boughs. I was very glad to get
so comparatively comfortable a place for poor Marian; whose health,
however, notwithstanding the hardships she had endured, remained
unimpaired.
Our first work being finished, we erected a lookout place at the end of
a long bough, clearing away the branches which intercepted our view up
and down the stream. Here one of us took post during daylight, that we
might watch for any craft navigating the river. Should a Spanish vessel
appear, we agreed that we would let her pass without making a signal;
but should a Dutch or English one come in sight, though it was not
likely that any of our own countrymen would visit the river, we
determined to do our best to attract the attention of those on board.
All this time there had been scarcely a breath of wind, and though our
lookout place had been occupied, we knew that no vessel could pass up,
and it was very unlikely that any would venture down the stream at the
mercy of the current. Two days after the lookout post had been
established, as I took my watch at daybreak, the bright sun rising above
the distant horizon, I felt the breeze fan my cheeks. Every instant it
increased, rippling the hitherto calm surface of the broad river into
mimic waves. As I watched, now turning my eyes up, now down the stream,
I saw, emerging from behind a projecting point of the forest, a white
sail. From the progress it made towards me, it appeared to be that of a
large boat, and was certainly not such as was likely to be used by
Indians. At first I had hoped that it might be the sloop, but I soon
saw, from the cut of the sail, and its size, that it was not such as she
would carry. If the people on board were Spaniards, I was not to make a
signal to them. How tantalising it would be to see her pass by, and yet
I had no doubt that Uncle Paul was right in not wishing again to fall
into their hands. I would not call to my friends till I had some more
certain information to communicate, so I sat eagerly watching the sail.
At length I saw that it was positively coming nearer. From its height
out of the water, I again began to hope that it might after all be that
of the sloop, which might have rigged a jury-mast. Nearer and nearer it
came, and at length I saw that it was certainly not the sloop, but the
oddest build of vessel I had ever set eyes on. As I gazed, I at last
discovered that it was not a vessel at all, but part of the trunk of a
huge tree, with a mast, to which a sail was spread, stepped on it. No
wonder that it approached slowly!
I now began to hope that my father and the skipper had escaped, and that
it might be bringing them to us, so I could no longer resist shouting
out to Uncle Paul, who quickly joined me. After examining it narrowly,
he exclaimed: "I have no doubt about it; I am nearly certain that I can
make out your father and Captain van Dunk, as well as the mate and the
native. Most thankful am I that they have all been preserved, for I
confess I did not expect to see them again."
The breeze increasing, the log approached somewhat faster than at first,
and all our doubts were soon set at rest. Uncle Paul and I, standing
up, waved our handkerchiefs and shouted, to draw their attention. We
were at length seen, and the course of the log, which was impelled by
paddles as well as a sail, was directed towards us. Having communicated
the joyful intelligence to the rest of the party, we all descended to
the lowest branch, the only accessible part of the tree from the water.
I need scarcely picture our delight when at length the log glided up,
and we were able to welcome my poor father. He looked thin and
careworn, as if he had gone through great hardships; and even the honest
skipper was considerably pulled down. Having secured the log, which was
of a peculiarly light and buoyant character, we invited my father and
his companions up to our platform, where breakfast had just been
prepared. They were greatly surprised to find that we had cooked food;
and they were ready to do ample justice to it, as they had been living
all the time on raw provisions. As soon as my father and the rest of us
had satisfied our hunger, he described what had occurred to them.
After we had escaped from the sloop, she had been driven down the stream
for some miles along the forest; but at length, striking against a
projecting point of a log, she had gone down in shallow water, my father
and the skipper being providentially able to make their way to a large
tree, a branch of which projected from the stem only a few feet above
the surface. Here they rested till daylight. The skipper then managed
to reach the vessel, which had sunk close below them, and got hold of
some spars and one of the sails; which they hoisted up to their
resting-place. The second trip he made he managed to get hold of a
small cask of biscuits and a bottle of schiedam. This nourishment
greatly revived them, and they began to consider how they could come to
our assistance; for of course, not being aware that we should be able to
obtain an abundant supply of provisions, they feared that we should
perish from hunger. In vain, however, the skipper endeavoured to
recover a sufficient number of spars to form a raft. On the third trip
he made to the vessel he was nearly washed away, so my father entreated
him not again to venture. He did so, however, and getting hold of a
coil of rope, fastened one end of it to the branch and the other round
his waist. He made several more trips, and recovered a cask of
herrings, another of biscuits, and three more bottles of schiedam. The
current, however, driving against the vessel, already fearfully damaged
by the blows she had received, began to break her up; and although the
brave skipper made several attempts to recover more articles, they were
mostly unsuccessful. He had, however, got hold of Marian's small box of
clothing, which had been saved when so many things were washed out of
the boat. He had also saved a saucepan, some hooks and lines, an axe, a
saw, a small auger, a few nails, and some other articles, which had been
thrown into an empty cask. They had now no longer any dread of
immediate starvation for themselves, but their anxiety about us was by
no means lessened; and having sufficient provisions to last them for
several days, they felt more eager than ever to reach us.
They had seen several logs floating down the stream at a distance. At
length it struck them that if they could obtain one of these, they
might, with the aid of the sail and the spars they had saved, accomplish
their object. It would have been madness to get upon one of them unless
they could manage to secure it to their branch. At length an enormous
log came floating by, evidently of very light wood, as it rose high out
of the water, with a branch projecting from one end. Their anxiety was
intense lest an eddy might turn it off and drift it from them. The
gallant skipper stood, rope in hand, anxiously watching it. At length
it came directly under them; so he leapt upon it, and with a sailor's
dexterity immediately fastened the end of the rope round the branch. It
was brought up, and they thus obtained what they so much desired.
The wind, however, was contrary, and still blowing so strong that it
might have been dangerous even had it been favourable for them to
commence their voyage. The time, however, was spent by the skipper,
aided by my father, in cutting a step in the log for the mast, which was
at length fixed securely with wedges driven down on either side, and
stayed up with a portion of the rope which could be spared. They had
now a vessel of sufficient size not only to carry them, but to convey
the whole of the party, should they find us. Still they had several
days to wait before they could commence their voyage. They also formed
a rudder with one of the spars; and out of a piece of plank which had
been secured, along with two other spars, they constructed two oars to
assist in impelling their unwieldy craft. At last a light breeze sprang
up. There was no little difficulty in getting clear of the branch; but
after all their stores had been placed on it, the skipper, by his good
management, at last succeeded. The sail was hoisted, and to their great
satisfaction the log went ahead. They had, of course, to keep close in
by the forest, to avoid the strength of the current; but although a back
eddy helped them now and then, their progress was very slow. Still they
did go ahead. They had almost abandoned all hopes of finding the mate
and the Indian, as the skipper fancied they had both been drowned.
They had been coasting along for some hours, sometimes scarcely going
ahead, at others not making more than half a knot or so an hour, when a
voice, which seemed to come out of the forest, reached them; and,
looking in the direction from which the sound came, they saw two men
sitting on a projecting branch of a high tree, whom the skipper
recognised as his mate Peter, and Maco the Indian. They being alive
proved that they must have obtained food, and this raised their hopes
that we also had not died of starvation. How the two men could get down
and reach the log was now the question. Captain van Dunk and my father
stood in as close as they could venture. Their fear was that the mast
might be caught by some of the overhanging branches, or that some
submerged bough might strike the log and upset it. Both dangers had to
be guarded against. The log was moving very slowly. The skipper
therefore hailed the men, telling them to come down and that he would
pick them up. The Indian, Maco, was the first to follow his advice.
Descending to the lowest branch, which was nearly thirty feet above the
surface, he plunged headlong in; and though he disappeared for nearly a
minute, he rose again, and soon reached the log. The skipper then told
him to take the remaining piece of the rope, and, if possible, carry it
up to the branch, so that Peter might have the means of descending. He
willingly undertook the task, but expressed his fear that he would not
succeed. Suddenly his eye fell on the axe.
"I will do it now," he said, "without fear." Taking the implement in
his hand, and the rope, which he fastened round his waist, he swam back
to the tree. He was soon seen cutting notches in the trunk, one above
the other, and clinging to them with his toes and one hand. He quickly
ascended, dragging the rope up with him. Peter had, meantime, descended
to the lowest branch, and by stooping down helped him up the last few
feet. The rope was secured; then the Indian, giving the axe to Peter,
told him to swim off with it to the log. Peter quickly descended,
having only a few feet to drop into the water; and as he was a fair
swimmer, though not a diver, he soon reached the log, and my father and
the skipper hauled him up. The gallant Indian then casting off the rope
plunged with it into the stream, towing it off to the log. He was not a
minute behind Peter, and was hauled up somewhat exhausted by his
exertions.
The two men told my father and the skipper that, on being left behind,
they had swum to a branch at some distance from where they had been
left, and having climbed the tree to which it belonged, had wandered, by
means of the sepos interlacing the boughs, some way through the forest,
till they reached the tree on which my father and the skipper saw them.
They had obtained an abundance of food; but having no means of lighting
a fire, they had been compelled to eat it raw. Their animal food
consisted chiefly of young birds, lizards, tree-frogs, and grubs; and
their vegetable food, of some plums and other fruits, and the inside
leaves of the assai palm, and various nuts.
The sail, which had been lowered, was again hoisted, and the voyage was
continued. Darkness came on, but the crew of the log was now
sufficiently strong to be divided into two watches, and the skipper and
my father were able to lie down and rest, while Peter took the helm, and
Maco, the Indian, kept a lookout ahead, and stood ready to lower the
sail if necessary. Thus all night long they continued gliding on, but
very slowly. This, however, enabled them to keep a bright lookout in
the forest. Great was their satisfaction when, the next morning, they
caught sight of me,--their anxiety about us was relieved.
So great was our joy on finding our poor father, that all the dangers in
prospect were overlooked; and had we not still been mourning the loss of
our dear mother, we should have been, I believe, perfectly happy.
Our father was astonished at the comfortable abode we had erected, and
at the ample supply of provisions we had obtained. The skipper and
Peter were, however, anxious to continue the voyage; and Uncle Paul also
wished to go with them, in the hope that the mouth of some stream might
be found near at hand, up which they might proceed till they could get
on dry land. The grand idea of the skipper was to reach firm ground,
and then to build a vessel in which to return to Guiana. He felt
confident that it could be accomplished.
"Where there is a will there is a way. It can be done, and it shall be
done, if health and strength be allowed us!" he exclaimed, with Dutch
determination, which an enemy would have called obstinacy. My father,
however, was unwilling to allow Marian to undertake the fatigue to which
she would have been subjected. It was necessary, therefore, even though
the log could have carried us all, that some should remain with her. He
naturally resolved to do so. Tim, having found his master, was not
willing to leave him; and Arthur decided also to stop and help my father
in taking care of Marian. The skipper consented to leave Sambo to
assist in hunting for food. I was eager for the adventure, and my
father, after some little hesitation, allowed me to go.
Kallolo had consented to leave the monkey for the amusement of Marian;
but no sooner did Quacko see his master on the log, than he sprang off
and took up his post on the further end, showing very clearly that he
had no intention of being left behind. "Pray let him go," said Marian.
"I would on no account detain him, for he probably would be very unhappy
if separated from Kallolo." Quacko, therefore, became one of our crew,
or rather a passenger, for it was not to be expected that he would do
much towards the navigation of the log.
The day was spent in making some preparations for the voyage and in
exchanging provisions, the skipper generously offering to leave the cask
of biscuits, some herrings, and a couple of bottles of his beloved
schiedam with my father. "If we find the mouth of a river, and believe
that we can easily sail up it, we will return for you, as it might take
us some weeks to complete our craft, and you would not wish to live up
the tree all that time," he said.
At daybreak the next morning we commenced our voyage. A strong breeze
filled our sail, and we glided on with greater speed than the log had
before moved through the water. Among other articles which had been put
on board were a number of large nuts from the cuja-tree, with which
Uncle Paul proposed forming floats or lifebuoys for each of the party.
"We might," he observed, "have to swim on shore, or they might help on
some other occasion to save our lives." Kallolo had manufactured a
quantity of line from the fibres of a tree of the palm species in our
grove, so that we had an abundance of cordage. After we were afloat and
on our voyage, I could not help thinking that we might have built a
canoe, which would certainly have been more manageable than the unwieldy
log; but Mynheer van Dunk preferred the more stable conveyance.
As the wind continued fresh and favourable, we made pretty fair way, and
were in good spirits. As we went along we kept a watchful eye for any
indications of an opening on our larboard side; but mile after mile was
accomplished, and only a long line of forest met our sight. We sailed
on by night as well as by day, to take advantage of the favourable
breeze; and by keeping close in, sometimes even between islands of
trees, if I may so describe them, we escaped the strength of the
current.
The natives, I should have said, had brought a number of thin straight
branches, with which to manufacture bows, and arrows, and lances, that
we might have the means of killing game when our provisions should be
expended. Kallolo, indeed, understood how to make the celebrated
zabatana, or blowpipe, though he had not been able to obtain the wood he
required. How could he, indeed, he observed, find the materials for
concocting the woorali poison into which to dip the point of his darts?
He hoped, however, when we reached the shore, to obtain the necessary
ingredients, and to form a blowpipe, with which he promised to kill as
much game as we should require.
We had sailed on four days, when we reached a point, on rounding which
we saw a wide expanse of water before us, with another point in the far
distance. We knew therefore that we were at the mouth of a considerable
river. It was what we were looking for, and the wind, which had changed
to the northward, would enable us to sail up it. The current, however,
was setting down the river, and just as we had eased off the sheet,
intending to run up it, the wind failed and we were speedily drifted out
again. We could not reach a tree to which to make fast, and there we
lay, floating helplessly on the calm surface. After drifting for half a
mile along the edge of the forest, we found ourselves in slack water, in
which we lay, neither advancing nor receding. Our food was running
somewhat short, but, fortunately, we had our hooks and lines, and taking
some dried herrings as bait, we set to work to fish. We had not long to
wait before we caught several somewhat curiously shaped creatures, which
we should from their appearance have hesitated to eat; had not Kallolo,
who knew most of them, told us which were wholesome and which poisonous.
Some he immediately knocked on the head and threw overboard. As we
were unwilling to light a fire on the raft, we cut them up and dried
them in the sun. Though not very palatable, they enabled us to
economise the rest of our provisions; and the natives, and even Peter,
had no objection to eat them raw.
For three days we lay totally becalmed. Fortunately we most of us had
some occupation. Uncle Paul, the skipper, and I were engaged in making
floats from the large nuts I spoke of. Having bored a hole, we scraped
out the kernel, and then stopped up the orifice again with some resinous
substance which Uncle Paul had brought for the purpose. The natives,
assisted by the mate, were manufacturing spears and bows and arrows.
When not thus occupied, we were engaged in fishing. Most of our hooks
were small, and we could only venture to haul up moderately-sized fish
with them. We had, however, one big hook with a strong line, and we
hoped with it to catch a proportionately large fish. We were not
disappointed. I had the line in my hand. Before long I felt a strong
pull. I gave a jerk, and when I fancied that the unwary creature was
firmly hooked, I began to haul away. I had, however, to call to my
friends for assistance; for I thought it far more likely that the fish
would pull me in, than that I should succeed in pulling him out. Uncle
Paul and the skipper then took hold of the line. Our fear was that the
fish would break away, for there was not line enough to play him, and
our only way of securing him was by main force. At length we got his
head out of the water, when the Indians exclaimed, "Periecu! periecu!"
and stooping down, and putting their fingers in the fish's gills, they
hauled it up. He was upwards of three feet in length, and covered with
beautiful scales--indeed, I have never seen a finer fish. Some blows on
the head finally secured him. The Indians said that his flesh might be
preserved by drying, but thought some days would be required for the
operation. We preferred eating some of it fresh, but not raw; so we
began to think of lighting a fire.
For some time we had been drifting much closer in with the forest, and
we agreed that by a little exertion in rowing we might get up to some of
the trees, from which we could obtain a supply of fuel. This we
accomplished, and lowering our sail, and unstepping our mast, we got
close in under the trees. With our axe and knives we soon got a supply
of dry branches. As no place presented itself on any of the lower
branches where we could light a fire, we resolved to do so on the log.
Having piled up our fuel, we paddled out again into the open water.
Uncle Paul had his tinder-box, and a few cherished matches--not that we
were entirely dependent on them, as the natives could always, by a
little exertion, kindle a flame. We did not step our mast, which, with
the sail and yard, lay alongside. Our fire was soon lighted, and a
portion of our periecu was spitted and placed over it to roast. The
fish appeared to be cooking famously, as we sat on the log, some at one
end and some at the other. Suddenly a light wind got up, and in an
instant what was our dismay to see the whole centre part of the log on
fire! Up it blazed, spreading so rapidly that we had scarcely time,
some seizing one article and some another, to spring overboard with our
floats round our waists. Quacko in a great fright clung to Kallolo's
back, where he sat chattering away, loudly expressing his annoyance at
what had occurred. Maco made a dash on the half-roasted periecu, which
would otherwise have run a great risk of being overdone, and leaped
after us. Happily nothing of value was left behind, while our mast and
sail, being in the water, were also safe. There we were, floating about
round the log, which, from the fierce way the flames blazed up, would,
we feared, be soon burned to the water's edge. "This must not be!"
cried the skipper and Uncle Paul almost at the same time. "Pipe all
hands to extinguish the fire!" Suiting the action to the word, they
setting the example, we all, as we floated about on our lifebuoys, began
to throw water on the flames with our hands.
"Heave away, my lads! heave away, and put out the flames!" cried Uncle
Paul. Fortunately the fire had not got any real hold on the log, having
fed chiefly on the dry mass of parasitic plants which thickly covered
it, so that, by throwing water over it merely with the palms of our
hands, we managed in a short time to put it out. Maco, who was the
first to climb on to the deck, uttering a loud cry jumped off again
still more rapidly, it being as yet far too hot to make a comfortable
resting-place. We therefore continued for some time longer to throw up
the water to cool it.
At length we again ventured on board. It looked something like the
bottom of a coal barge in a rainy day; it was covered with saturated
cinders, which it took us a considerable time before we could sweep off
into the water. Quacko looked with much suspicion at the burned embers,
as if he thought they would blaze up again, and declined leaving
Kallolo's shoulders, where alone he considered himself secure. Having
put our craft right, we sat down to feast on the portion of the periecu
we had been cooking, and very satisfactory food it proved. We then
stepped our mast, and set up the rigging, so as to be ready to proceed
on our voyage as soon as the wind should again spring up. It came
sooner than we expected, but instead of blowing up the stream, it came
directly down, and both the skipper and Uncle Paul agreed that it was
likely to continue in the same quarter for several days.
We had now run somewhat short of provisions, and had made but
inconsiderable progress on our voyage of discovery. Uncle Paul
therefore proposed that we should go back to our friends, and wait till
the wind should again shift to its old quarter. Unless, indeed, we
could secure the log to a tree, we should be drifted back several miles.
We might obtain food by climbing the trees, but we were not likely to
catch any fish while we remained close to them, and we should probably,
after all, have to put back in want of provisions. These arguments
prevailed with the skipper. The head of the log was got round, sail was
made, and we glided back at a much faster rate than we had come up
against the current.