WE TAKE COUNSEL OF THE INGAS AS TO OUR FUTURE, ETC.
Matthew's business was to tell us that the Ingas were waiting to hold
council with us. As soon as we heard this we hastened from that
pleasant, retired spot where we had been strolling, as I have said, to
join them, not without some self-reproach for so slighting those to whom
we owed better civility; but, to tell the truth, I had clean forget
those good Indians, for where my sweet lady stood was all the world to
me, and I was indifferent to all outside it.
Coming beyond those jutting rocks which had screened us from view we
perceived the Ingas' camp. They had built a fire upon the further side
of a little lake, fed by a stream running from the mountains, in the
midst of the hollow, and here sat a score of Indians handling the
arquebuses taken from the Portugals, and examining them by the light of
the fire. At a little distance a dozen of their women were grouped
together on their mats, about a pile of pack-saddles and merchandise.
Hard by stood a couple of tents of rush mats, very curiously woven and
stained. These objects, lit up by the dancing flames of the fire, with
the deep shade of the rocks beyond, were a pleasure to see for all who
love pictures of strange things; but that which gave it the finishing
touch was an Inga with his spear, who stood on a high rock, keeping
guard, and cut the rising moon in two halves with his dark, handsome
figure.
When the Indians spied us approaching they rose to their feet, and their
captain, coming to meet us with a very noble and courtly carriage, laid
his hand on my breast, and I did likewise by him, seeing this was their
mode of greeting. Then the Indian woman whose life I had saved came
forward and went though the same ceremony; but, this done, she slipped
beside my Lady Biddy and began to fondle her hand, stroking it gently,
lifting it up to her cheek, etc., which I thought very pretty.
I begged Matthew to make my apologies to the captain for not having paid
my respects to him; but this he would not do, telling me these Ingas
were a mighty touchy sort of people in trifles, and were as like as not
to take an apology as an admission of wrong, and a mean trick of getting
cheaply out of a mess one ought never to have got into.
"How'mever," says he, "I have settled that matter by telling him that an
Englishman's first duty is to pay his services to the females of his
tribe, and, that being done, you are now at liberty to devote all your
attention to him."
In this matter it seemed to me Matthew showed more sense than I or many
better cultivated men, who never meet without some paltry excuse or
other.
The Indians meanwhile led us to the tent, where a supper had been laid
out on a mat, and insisted very civilly on our eating before entering
upon business: then they withdrew to their place by the fire, where a
space was left in their midst for us, every man smoking tobacco, for I
believe there is no people in the world so given to the use of this
herb.
When we had finished our meal, we escorted Lady Biddy to the second
tent, which had been given for her use, Matthew telling us that the
Indians never speak of their affairs before the sex. "Though why not,"
says he, "I can not say, except it be that their females are given
overmuch to talk, which leads to blabbing of secrets."
Lady Biddy retained us a minute at the entrance to her tent to show how
Wangapona, her Indian friend, had decked the floor with soft blooms of
flowers, and bound knots of bright feathers to the head and foot of the
net which served her as a bed; also placing for her use a bowl of fresh
water, in which floated certain fruits to give it flavor and sweetness.
Then bidding each other farewell, with a fervent wish that we might
sleep peacefully, we separated; but she did not again offer to let me
kiss her.
Coming to the fire with Matthew, we sat down with the Indians, and
accepted of their tobacco-sticks, which they call zigaroes; and now, all
smoking like so many chimneys, the chief spoke to the matter in hand,
every one listening in solemn silence. And first of all he bade Matthew
tell me that every enemy of the Portugals and Spaniards was regarded by
them as a friend.
"Ay," says the chief, in his tongue, "we spare the lives of those
serpents and jagoaretes that haunt the woods they hunt, and pray to our
god, the Sun, not to dry up the festering marshes that poison the air
they breathe, but to nourish with his rays all venomous fruits that they
may eat, all loathsome reptiles whose fangs and stings may taint their
blood, and to give strength to those beasts who tear their flesh and
break their bones.
"Our forefathers," he goes on, "were mighty kings, and the meanest of
our people lived in palaces, to which the richest abodes of these
accursed Portugals are but dens and hovels. Our people spurned under
their feet the gold for which our enemies sell their souls. Our men were
wise; our women were faithful; our children were obedient: all were
happy. Then came this troop of ravening jagoaretes into our slumbering
camp. Jagoaretes! Nay, 'tis an insult to the divine Sun to compare the
basest beast he has fashioned to a Portugal. The jagoarete kills; he
does not yoke our warriors with oxen and scar their backs with whips; he
does not put chains upon our hopeful boys and doom them to lifelong
pain; he does not force our innocent maids to bear a race of slaves."
"Lord love us, master," says Matthew, after translating this to me, "I
hope he isn't going to make a capital offence of this trifle."
"We are unhappy," continues the Inga, sinking his voice to a tone of
mournful sadness. "Who can laugh in the still night? The very flowers
hang their heads: in the morning you will find tears in their eyes. Our
sun has sunk. Will it ever rise again?"
"Ay, that it will, I warrant," says Matthew to him stoutly.
The Indians held up their hands as a warning not to interrupt the chief.
"They are numberless as chesketaws[3] on the lagoons; they suck our
blood like vampires in the night; we have no arms against them. We are
scattered over the land like leaves after a tornado. Thus scattered,
what can we do against our clustering enemies? We are hunted into the
mountains and the desert; but even there our homes are not safe. The
world is too small to give refuge to the Inga. There is no limit to the
envious greed of our enemies; no bounds to their cruel spite. They want
gold, but they will not buy it of us, for that would give us power and
the means to live. They would not have a single Inga free, but all
should be their slaves, to wear yokes and chains, and toil for them
without hope. Is it all darkness?" says he piteously, looking round him;
"is there no hope? Yes," cries he, facing the moon and stretching up his
arms; "while the bride smiles, her god lives, and the moon's god is our
god--the great father of all."
[Footnote 3: The chesketaw is a venomous fly like the mosquito, but
bigger and more poisonous.--B. P.]
With this he slowly sank into his place upon the mat, saying never
another word; and thus ended his speech, which seemed to me to be very
fine for such as he to deliver.
After a few minutes' silence, given in respect to the chief, that his
words might be duly digested, another Inga rose and spoke, and his
speech was more practical and to the purpose. He said the tribe bore us
a great affection, not only because were enemies to the Portugals, but
also because in the face of that foe I had dared to strike up the musket
leveled at the breast of Wangapona. As our true friends, they were
prepared to give more consideration to our wishes than their own, and
therefore the first thing they wished to know was in what manner they
might serve us.
I told Matthew to ask if they could give us an idea of our position with
regard to the sea; upon which the chief, taking a stick of wood, spread
out the ashes of the fire in a plain to represent the face of the earth;
then, with a handful of ashes, he built up a very fair presentment of
the mountains, and after that traced furrows to show the course of
rivers. That river we had crossed he called the Attrato, and another
still a good distance to the west of the mountains where we lay he
called the Cauca, and one yet further west the Magdalena (though he had
another name for it), which joins the Cauca at some distance from its
disemboguement. He also showed another stream rising from the mountains
called the Meta, and this he assured us flowed into the Baraquan or
Oronoque, through his knowledge of the country in that part was limited
to hearsay.
"Now, Matthew," says I, "what are we to do? Our nearest way to the coast
will be to follow the Cauca, and get into the Magdalena, which flows
into the sea somewhere about Cartagena."
"Ay," says he, "but we must know if we are likely to flow with it into
the hands of the Portugals."
To this question on this subject the Ingas replied that the whole of
that coast was overrun with Portugals, who had, besides, several
settlements on the Magdalena. They offered to guide us as far as they
might go in safety, but could give us no encouragement of escaping our
enemies.
"Then," says I, "we must strike out for the Meta, and so get to the
Baraquan, where I doubt if any Portugals are to be met with."
The Ingas said they had heard of no enemies save certain tribes of
hostile Indians on the Baraquan, and promised to guide us to the Meta,
which they counted as three weeks' journey.
"If we take three weeks to get to the embers," says Matthew, regarding
the plan of ashes, "Lord only knows when we shall get t'other side of
the fire."
While we were discussing this difficulty, the Indians argued upon the
possibility of descending the Meta.
"It seems to be a plaguy difficult job, master, even to these fellows,
who are used to traveling those parts," says Matthew. "The open country
is impassable by reason of the woods; and the river is not much better
traveling, by reason of divers cataracts, lakes, and blind inlets, where
one may be lost as in a maze, to say nothing of one part where we must
go a hundred miles out of our way to avoid a race of hungry cannibals."
"Ask them," says I, "if they can offer any alternative by which we may
come to our friends."
Upon this question a great discussion ensued, in which Matthew took
part.
"Well, Matthew," says I, growing impatient, "what is it all about?"
"To begin with, master," says he, "when I told them we wished to join
our friends, they put the very pertinent question, 'Where are they?'
That was a poser. Hows'mever, for the glory of our country, I replied
that Englishmen were to be found pretty nearly everywhere, especially
where they are not wanted. At present, I told 'em, we were pretty well
occupied in sweeping the seas of the Portugals, that we had made a very
good beginning, and that when we had finished that business we should
undoubtedly step ashore and turn them out of Guiana. But as we did not
wish to wait here till then, we should take it as a kindness if they
would put us in the way of getting to some part of the coast where there
were no Portugals, and we might keep a smart lookout for a passing
vessel of our own people."
"Was that the whole subject of discussion?" says I, when he paused.
"No, master. They don't doubt anything I said, and are ready to believe
that our ships are as plentiful in the seas as herrings. But herrings
are not always to be caught when they are wanted, and the possibility of
our having to wait on the shore a week before being picked up by a
passing Englishman lays open the difficulty of finding any spot on the
coast where we are not likely to be picked up first by a passing
Portugal. The west and north coasts are to be put out of the question.
The only coast that may be safe is that they know nothing about, to be
reached only by the Baraquan, of which they know as little."
"Then all this talk has resulted in nothing?" says I.
"No, master, it has not, but the subject will have to be sifted out by
us slowly; and so I will let them know that we will give their proposal
the consideration it deserves, and let them know our decision in the
morning."
The reply he gave evidently pleased the Ingas, who, bidding us
good-night after their fashion, lay down to sleep, while Matthew and I
strolled in the moonlight to consider the proposal they had made.