WE FIND A HAVEN OF REST IN A WONDROUS LAKE; BUT ARE NIGH BEING SUCKED
INTO A WHIRLPOOL.
We swiftly left the island behind us, for this lake (as I call it),
which had been pretty still when we entered it, was now hurrying along
with the force of any mill-stream. The water was orange-tawny with the
mud and sand it had swept up in its course, and littered all over with
great trees and bushes; and this wreck on it, with the desolation all
around, and the vast extent and the mighty force of it, did strike us
both with awe and a feeling of our littleness and helplessness, so that
we could not speak for some time. However, we presently found some
consolation in perceiving that the rain had ceased to fall, and that
betwixt the black clouds was here and there a rift of blue, which was
the first we had seen of the sky for six weeks or thereabouts; and with
this we grew more cheery, and even the conies began to prick their ears
and nibble of some herb we had torn up for them the last thing before
putting off.
My attention was soon diverted from these trifles by more serious
matters; for being carried to that end of the lake whence the waters
issued in a narrow passage betwixt two high rocks as through the neck of
a funnel, it was with the utmost ado I kept our canoe in mid-stream and
clear of those bushes and trees which, as I have said, were scattered
abroad, and here by the confluence of the flood we were brought into
such close quarters that at every turn the canoe was threatened to be
nipped in their embrace or swept into the midst of the wreck and lumber
that ground painfully against the banks, where our frail bark (as I may
truly call it) would in a moment have been crushed like a thing of
paper, and we with it.
To make matters worse, the course of the river was impeded by sundry
huge rocks standing up here and there, which threw the stream into
violent convulsions of eddies and torrents that no force of man could
resist, so that one minute we faced one way, and the next another, to
our great confusion and imminent peril, for out of all this trouble of
rocks, bushes, trees, dead carcasses of cuacuparas,[5] and the like,
there was promise of a speedy end (by death) to all our troubles; and
certain I am that but for the help of Providence we had never come out
of these straits alive.
[Footnote 5: A sort of stag, as big as any Devonshire cow.--B. P.]
How long we were in this pickle, whether five minutes or five hours, I
know not; but I take it few men are so plagued in eighty years. And not
one instant of repose was there either for me or my dear lady (who
throughout kept a cool head, and helped with one of the oars to stave
off this or that floating thing as surely and stoutly as any man), for
ere we were out of one danger we were into another, and destruction
menacing us on all sides.
It seemed that our condition could be no worse than it was; but whilst I
was laying this fool's flattery to my heart, for its encouragement, my
Lady Biddy cries suddenly:
"Hark, Benet! What can that noise be?"
Then straining my ears, yet still battling with trees, rocks, etc., I
caught the sound her finer ear had first detected, which was like the
rushing of a great wind at a distance. This perplexed me greatly for a
space, for there was but a little air stirring; but at length, growing
more used to the sound, which increased every instant, I hit upon an
explanation of it which struck despair into my soul.
"Lord help us!" says I, "'tis the cataract we were warned against by the
Ingas."
"Oh, what is to be done?" says she.
"Nay," says I, dropping my oar, "there is nothing to do now but to
perish, dear cousin."
But she was not minded to perish tamely thus; and seeing we were
drifting upon a tree, deftly turned her oar to my side and pushed the
canoe from it, to our immediate salvation. Thus put to shame for my
cowardice, I picked up my oar and strove again vigorously to keep in
clear water.
But now the roaring of that fall was grown to the loudness of thunder,
and casting my eye that way I perceived a kind of cloud rising above the
river, which was nothing but the vapor thrown off by the heat of this
vast river in falling such a prodigious depth.
Hitherto we had striven only to keep to the middle of the river, but now
I glanced to the side, for there only might we chance to escape being
engulfed in the cataract; though only to be crushed amidst the tearing
heaps of timber that swept the shores. To my astonishment, I saw nothing
but steep rocks on either hand; for being entirely occupied in steering
away from the floating masses on the river, I had taken no note of the
changing character of the country we had entered. In that glance I
perceived there was no escape by the sides; so that there seemed truly
no way but to go down with the water into that terrible abysm.
And yet my spirits recoiled from such an end, being stirred up to a
desperate antagonism by the frightful noise of the waters, that appeared
to me like the impatient roaring of some great cage of famished lions
awaiting their meal.
Lady Biddy glanced round her at the same moment, and I saw no look of
hope in her face. In truth, she saw no escape, for now we were come
within the cold vapors of the fall, that fell on us like an autumn mist;
and so she turned her face to me, and seeing naught but despair there,
her face lit up with a gentle smile, and she held forth her hands for me
to take. Her lips moved as I clasped her dear hand, and though I could
hear never a sound from the thundering of the fall now close to our
ears, I knew full well that those last words were, "God bless you, dear
Benet!"
The thought that she must die, so beautiful and sweet, and still but in
the budding season of her life, and that after enduring so much, and
striving so bravely and heartily, did fire me with a very madness of
revolt against Providence, which, as I wickedly conceived, had doomed
this dear girl, against all reason, justice, and mercy, to death; so
that with a furious cry I caught up my oar and struck it wildly against
a rock upon which we were being carried.
The shock of this encounter bent the oar till it snapped, though it was
made of the toughest wood that grows in those parts, but it saved us;
for this lusty blow turned us about from the current that was to the
left of these rocks into that which sped to the right, and whereas that
to the left went not more than two fathoms off over that mighty fall,
the right passed through an opening in this rocky shore which we had not
hitherto perceived, and here were we safe--at least, from destruction in
that frightful fall, thanks be to God. And here could I diverge likewise
one moment from the course of my history to point out the heinous folly
of those who abandon themselves to despair, under the conviction that
Providence has decreed their destruction, which it were useless to
struggle against; for in thus yielding they do more surely oppose the
decree of Providence, which hath given us functions expressly to
preserve ourselves.
And now, I saw, we were in a manner safe, for though the stream was
swift and strong, much encumbered from wreckage torn from the banks,
etc., and obstructed with rocks where the waters shot down with
incredible force, carrying us into divers eddies and whirlpools below,
yet were our ears unassailed by that fearful roar of torrents which had
paralyzed us. And after a while being carried through that chain of
hills we came in view of a great plain, flooded over as far as the eye
could reach, so that it looked like nothing but a vast sea, which flood
was naught but the overflow of the River Baraquan, poured through the
passage by which we had escaped the great falls. Here was there no
current except on the verge of the hills, and that running gently; and
as these hills ran westward we kept our canoe in the stream, hoping that
it would run again into the Baraquan at a safe distance below the falls,
which seemed to me the more likely because it bore towards a gap in some
reasonably high mountains hemming in the plain to the southwest.
After running about two hours, as I judge, at about a league and a half
to the hour, and passing through this gap, though with such diminished
speed that I had to use my oar, we came into a lake of still water,
about a mile across, and shut in all around with a ragged wall of
crystal or silver, I know not which--only this I will answer for, that
when a ray of sunlight touched them for a minute the eye was blinded by
the dazzling glister. On some parts this wall of rock rose flush from
the water; but elsewhere there was a little sloping ground fairly well
wooded, but so flooded with the water that had streamed into this basin
from the Baraquan that some of the trees on the border rose not more
than four fathoms above the surface.
Issue from that lake saw I none, save by the passage we had entered; but
I did not concern myself greatly on this head then, my main anxiety
being to find some refuge where we might repose, for the day was drawing
to a close. Not a morsel of food has passed our lips for nigh on
twenty-four hours; and what with our exertion, terror, and hunger we
were spent and sick.
To this end I paddled the canoe towards those rocks which rose (as I
have said) sheer from the water, and by good luck we came to a craggy
part on the western side which led up to a deep cavern, which, to our
great comfort, we found as dry as any barn. But that which contented me
as well as anything in this cavern was a great bank of dry leaves in the
further extremity, the product of countless years, borne hither by the
winds, which in these parts do constantly blow from the east.
"Here," thinks I, with glee--"here shall my dear lady lie warm and dry
at least this night."
However, before deciding this way we made a fire of dry leaves, to be
sure there was no savage beast or venomous worm hiding in the cavities;
but there was no sign of any live creature having been there before us,
save birds, whereof were some empty nests in the crevices. So hither we
transported the goods from our canoe, not forgetting those acutis we had
brought with us; and having satisfied the cravings of nature with what
broken victual we had (being more hungry than nice), we knelt down side
by side with one accord, and rendered thanks to God for his mercy to us.
Indeed, our hearts were full of gratitude and peace; so that when our
lips had ceased to speak, our spirits were yet very still and
meditative. Thus it came about that instead of setting to (as I
intended) to make some sort of sleeping-chamber for my gentle lady, I
sat down beside her on a little knoll, and through the mouth of our
cavern we watched the pink light fade out of the pearly clouds in
silence.
Before I could rouse myself to an active disposition my sweet little
comrade, quite overcome by the fatigue of that long day, fell asleep
where she sat. First her chin drooped upon her breast, and then
inclining towards me, her shoulder rested against my side, whereupon, to
give her support, I put my arm about her body, with no unholy intent,
but reverently, as any father might encircle his child. Presently she
raised her head with a deep-drawn breath, and all unconscious laid her
face against my breast, and so fell again into a deep slumber, with the
innocent calm of a little child. And, though her pretty head was so near
that I might have touched it with my lips, I did not take advantage of
her unconsciousness in this way (thanks be to God), nor in any other
which would give me shame to remember, my heart being filled with an
ecstasy of pure love, softened with a compassionate sorrow, that one of
her sex and condition should be brought, by rude hardship and cruel
fortune, to this pitiful estate.
When she gave signs of awakening, I made a feint of yawning and
stretching my arms, and then jumping up I cried:
"Lord, cousin, I do believe we've been a-napping!"
"Why, where are we, Benet?" says she.
"That we will presently see," says I; and putting some leaves on the
embers that yet glowed, I blew them up into a flame, and by this light
in a twinkling I set up a mat with the oar and a half that were left us,
and begged my lady to repose herself, if she would make a shift with
that poor accommodation, for the night.
The next morning being tolerably fair we made a voyage around our lake,
and though we examined the inlets and rocks closely we could discover no
issue, save that (as I have said afore) by which we had come in, where
the waters were still flowing in pretty freely. This perplexed us
considerably, for besides the stream from the Baraquan there were
constantly falling into the lake some half a dozen runnels from springs
in the rocks; yet, as we could plainly see, the water had not risen in
the night, but rather fallen away if anything. However, on taking a
second turn round the lake, we were like to have had this mystery
explained in a fashion that was more conclusive than agreeable; for
coasting closer than heretofore by these rocks that rose sheer out of
the water, we felt ourselves suddenly within the influence of a current,
which drew us with incredible velocity towards a deep vortex of
whirlpool, by which these waters were drawn into some subterraneous
passage through the rocks, and 'twas only by employing our utmost
strength and skill that we thrust our canoe out of the flow, and so
(thanks be to God!) escaped being sucked into that horrid gulf.
When we were somewhat recovered of the disorder into which this late
peril had thrown us, I pointed out to my lady that there appeared no way
of escaping from our captivity but by the stream that had brought us
thither. "For," says I, "'tis questionable if ever we can scale those
steep and slippery rocks that surround us."
"And could we do so," says she, "we must go empty-handed, for sure we
could never drag our canoe up there, nor any of those things that are
necessary to us. Nor have we any assurance that we shall be better off
on the other side of those rocks than on this."
"You are in the right of it," says I; "then there remains nothing for it
but to get back into the Baraquan as best we may."
"Ay," says she, "but we must assuredly wait until the rainy season is
past--which has but just begun--for 'twere madness to venture again into
such dangers as we have by a miracle escaped."
On hearing this I turned aside, that she might not read in my face the
exultation of joy that filled my heart. And so as I made no reply she
said in a rallying tone:
"Are you very anxious to get rid of me, Benet?"
'Twas on my tongue to answer, "If I could make captivity endurable to
you, I would never take you from these rocky confines"; but I kept these
words to myself, though what reply I stammered in their place I can not
recall to mind.