Up to this moment my intention had been engrossed with the contents of
the note, and I had no thought of looking outward. I raised myself on
tiptoe, stretching my neck as far as I could into the embrasure.
A golden sunlight was pouring down upon broad, green leaves, where the
palms grew wildly. Red vines hung in festoons, like curtains of scarlet
satin. There were bands of purple and violet--the maroon-coloured
morus, and the snowy flowers of the magnolia--a glittering opal.
Orange-trees, with white, wax-like flowers, were bending under their
golden globes. The broad plumes of the corozo palm curved gracefully
over, their points trailing downwards, and without motion.
A clump of these grew near, their naked stems laced by a parasite of the
lliana species, which rose from the earth, and, traversing diagonally,
was lost in the feathery frondage above. These formed a canopy,
underneath which, from tree to tree, three hammocks were extended. One
was empty; the other two were occupied. The elliptical outlines,
traceable through the gauzy network of Indian grass, proved that the
occupants were females.
Their faces were turned from me. They lay motionless: they were asleep.
As I stood gazing upon this picture, the occupant of the nearest hammock
awoke, and turning, with a low murmur upon her lips, again fell asleep.
Her face was now towards me. My heart leaped, and my whole frame
quivered with emotion. I recognised the features of Guadalupe Rosales.
One limb, cased in silk, had fallen over the selvage of her pendent
couch, and hung negligently down. The small satin slipper had dropped
off, and was lying on the ground. Her head rested upon a silken pillow,
and a band of her long black hair, that had escaped from the comb,
straggling over the cords of the hammock, trailed along the grass. Her
bosom rose with a gentle heaving above the network as she breathed and
slept.
My heart was full of mixed emotions--surprise, pleasure, love, pain.
Yes, pain; for she could thus sleep--sleep sweetly, tranquilly--while I,
within a few paces of her couch, was bound and brutally treated!
"Yes, she can sleep!" I muttered to myself, as my chagrin predominated
in the tumult of emotions. "Ha! heavens!"
My attention was attracted from the sleeper to a fearful object. I had
noticed a spiral-like appearance upon the lliana. It had caught my eye
once or twice while looking at the sleeper; but I had not dwelt upon it,
taking it for one vine twined round another--a peculiarity often met
with in the forests of Mexico.
A bright sparkle now attracted my eye; and, on looking at the object
attentively, I discovered, to my horror, that the spiral protuberance
upon the vine was nothing else than the folds of a snake! Squeezing
himself silently down the parasite--for he had come from above--the
reptile slowly uncoiled two or three of the lowermost rings, and
stretched his glistening neck horizontally over the hammock. Now, for
the first time, I perceived the horned protuberance on his head, and
recognised the dreaded reptile--the _macaurel_ (the _cobra_ of America).
In this position he remained for some moments, perfectly motionless, his
neck proudly curved like that of a swan, while his head was not twelve
inches from the face of the sleeper. I fancied that I could see the
soft down upon her lip playing under his breath!
He now commenced slowly vibrating from side to side, while a low,
hissing sound proceeded from his open jaws. His horns projected out,
adding to the hideousness of his appearance; and at intervals his forked
tongue shot forth, glancing in the sun like a purple diamond.
He appeared to be gloating over his victim, in the act of charming her
to death. I even fancied that her lips moved, and her head began to
stir backward and forward, following the oscillations of the reptile.
All this I witnessed without the power to move. My soul as well as my
body was chained; but, even had I been free, I could have offered no
help. I knew that the only hope of her safety lay in silence. Unless
disturbed and angered, the snake might not bite; but was he not at that
moment distilling some secret venom upon her lips?
"Oh, Heaven!" I gasped out, in the intensity of my fears, "is this the
fiend himself? She moves!--now he will strike! Not yet--she is still
again. Now--now!--mercy! she trembles!--the hammock shakes--she is
quivering under the fascin-- Ha!"
A shot rang from the walls--the snake suddenly jerked back his head--his
rings flew out, and he fell to the earth, writhing as if in pain!
The girls started with a scream, and sprang simultaneously from their
hammocks.
Grasping each other by the hand, with terrified looks they rushed from
the spot and disappeared.
Several men ran up, ending the snake with their sabres. One of them
stooped, and examining the carcase of the dead reptile, exclaimed:
"_Carai_! there is a hole in his head--he has been shot!"
A moment after, half a dozen of the guerilleros burst open the door and
rushed in, crying out as they entered:
"_Quien tira_?" (Who fired?)
"What do you mean?" angrily asked Raoul, who had been in ill-humour ever
since the guerillero had refused him a draught of water.
"I ask you who fired the shot?" repeated the man.
"Fired the shot!" echoed Raoul, knowing nothing of what had occurred
outside. "We look like firing a shot, don't we? If I possessed that
power, my gay friend, the first use I should make of it would be to send
a bullet through that clumsy skull of yours."
"_Santissima_!" ejaculated the Mexican, with a look of astonishment.
"It could not be these--they are all tied!"
And the Mexicans passed out again, leaving us to our reflections.