CAMPING ON THE UPPER ORINOCO
“What a truly grand sight!”
It was Mark who uttered the words. He stood in the bow of a long canoe,
manned by a single Indian, who was sending the craft along the bosom of
the silent river with skill and swiftness.
On each side of the canoe the dark waters of the upper Orinoco
stretched to a distance of a hundred yards or more. Beyond were
gigantic forests of mahogany, rose-wood, grenadilla, ebony, and rubber
trees. Beneath the trees were immense ferns and strange varicolored
mosses, and over and through all grew the ever-present tropical vines,
forming meshes which were well-nigh impassable.
The sun shone far to the westward, but the river lay in a deep shadow,
and the many birds which had sung so gaily during the day had ceased
their song, giving place to the sounds of the oncoming night. Far in
the distance some wild parrots screeched out boldly, and many monkeys
added a chorus of their own. As Mark gazed at a tree which stood at
the bend of the stream he saw something uncurl itself and drop into the
water with a slight splash.
“What was that?” he asked of the professor, who was nearest to him.
“That was a water snake, Robertson. An ugly creature, too, if you meet
him in his native element.”
“Ugh, a snake! Then I guess we won’t land there.”
“The Indian says he knows of a nice spot a mile beyond here, where
there is a cleared place on the brow of a little bluff. To camp in the
midst of such a jungle as this would be very unwise.”
For three days the party had been traveling along the upper Orinoco in
the canoe, which was a stout affair, over twenty feet long and with a
little hood in the stern for protection from the sun. The last village
at which they had stopped had been left ten miles behind and here they
had bidden adieu to Andy Hume, who was in another boat and who wished
to explore one of the many tributaries of the Orinoco which join the
mighty stream at this point.
The trip in the canoe had been full of interest. They passed several
rapids, and at one point had had to “tote” the canoe and its contents
around a picturesque waterfall. They had gone fishing under the
directions of the Indian, whose name was Cubara, and had brought in
a fine mess, which had been cooked over the camp-fire in true hunter
fashion. They had even gone hunting and each of the boys had brought
down several tropical birds of gorgeous plumage. They had wanted to go
swimming, but this the professor had not allowed, fearing there might
be something in the water to harm them.
The Indian was a knowing fellow and bright, although not given to much
talking. He had been selected by the professor because of his knowledge
of English, which was, however, slight. He took particularly to Frank,
who had given him a pocket looking-glass he chanced to have with him.
“Well I wish we were landed,” grumbled Hockley, who sat under the hood
of the canoe, taking it easy. “I am tired of this everlasting water.
There is a sameness that is perfectly sickening.”
“That’s because you don’t enjoy the beauties of nature,” returned
Darry, with a grin. “You haven’t the poetic temperament, so to speak.”
“You needn’t poke fun at me,” growled the lank youth, with a scowl. “I
say there is sameness, and there is. It’s been nothing but water and
trees ever since we started.”
“If I were you, Hockley, I’d get out and wade back,” put in Frank. “I
can’t imagine what made you come.”
“I came to have a good time, but it’s no good time drifting in a canoe
like this,” was the surly response. “If we were ashore--”
“We’ll soon be ashore,” interrupted Mark. “There is the bluff, just
around the bend. Cubara is right, it’s an ideal spot for camping out.”
“If there isn’t a puma there waiting to chew us up,” added Frank, but
the smile on his face showed that he was not particularly afraid.
The canoe was run in among the bushes lining the bank below the bluff,
and leaping ashore the Indian pulled the craft well out of the water.
Then one after another leaped to the dry ground beyond.
“Leave the baggage where it is for the present,” said the professor. “I
want to take a look around before I decide to pitch camp. There may be
some objection which Cubara has overlooked.”
But there was none, and soon they had everything ashore and up to the
edge of the bluff, which arose from the surrounding jungle to a height
of thirty feet. To one side of the bluff was a series of rough rocks
leading down to the river and on the other was a beautiful waterfall
coming from a mountain a mile or more to the eastward. On the other
side of the Orinoco the virgin forests stretched for miles.
As in all tropical localities night came on swiftly, and by the time
they had brought all their things to the top of the bluff and started
a camp-fire darkness was upon them, lit up only by a few bright stars
far overhead. They had brought with them a fair sized tent and Sam and
Darry were soon hard at work cutting the necessary poles for erecting
the shelter.
“These forests look as if they had never seen the axe of a woodsman,”
said Sam. “What immense trees! Some of them must be two hundred feet
high.”
The poles were soon cut and then the erection of the tent began. It was
placed at a point where the ground sloped a little, which would allow
the water to run off in case it rained. It was fastened down with extra
heavy stakes so that nothing short of a hurricane would be able to
level it.
The tent erected, they took the most valuable of their stores inside,
piling them up at the rear. There was a case for their guns, another
containing ammunition, and a third medicines, and also several bundles
of clothing. They had also brought with them a number of canned goods,
coffee, sugar, salt and some jerked beef, in case they should be unable
to bring down their own meat. The jerked beef had been purchased at
Apure, where there is a large market for beef, both “on the hoof” and
prepared. Among the stores were also a bag of flour and a small bag of
beans--the latter brought along by Sam, who declared that he was going
to have his usual Sunday morning delicacy, no matter what happened.
It was decided by the professor that throughout their stay in the
jungle each should take his turn at watching during the night. “There
are seven of us all told,” he said. “And that will give each only about
an hour apiece, which will be no hardship. Perhaps nothing will come to
disturb us, but with one on guard all the others will be able to sleep
in comfort.”
The first night in the camp passed without anything unusual occurring.
The boys were up bright and early, and Mark discovered a pool at the
foot of the waterfall where they might bathe and wash to their hearts’
content. The water was as cool as it was pure and refreshed them
wonderfully.
“Makes a fellow feel like living again,” cried Darry, as he splashed
around. “I presume that water comes from the very top of yonder
mountain.”
“No doubt of it,” returned Mark, “and some of it may be melted snow for
all we know.”
Hockley had been too lazy to take a bath, and still lay on the flooring
of the tent, snoring lustily. To wake him up, Darry went and pulled him
by the foot.
“Hi, you, let go!” cried the sleepy youth, as he sat up. “Can’t you let
me sleep?”
“Time for breakfast,” returned Darry. “We’ve had a bath.”
“Have you? Well, I’m not so dirty as all that. After this you let me
sleep as long as I please.”
“All right,” returned Darry, coolly. And as he turned away he added,
in an undertone to Frank: “What a perfect bear he is! I wish he had
remained at home.”
“So do I,” was the answer. “But as he is with us we’ll have to make the
best of it.”
While the others were getting breakfast Hockley began leisurely to
dress himself. He had pulled on one shoe and was holding the other
when of a sudden he gave a cry of terror and leaped up wildly.
[Illustration: “Take it off! Take it off!”]
“Take it off! Take it off!”
“What is it?” demanded the professor, quickly, and rushed to his side.
“I don’t know what it is. It crawled out of my shoe. Take it off!”
He pointed to a creature four or five inches long, with many legs and
with horned jaws, which rested on his knee, shaking its tiny head from
one side to the other.
“A centipede!” murmured Professor Strong, and doubling up his finger he
snapped the thing to the ground and there quickly stamped on it.
“A centipede!” bawled Hockley. “They’re poisonous, so I’ve heard. I--I
think he bit me in the back of the hand. Do you think that if he did it
will prove fa-fatal?” And he turned pale.
“I don’t think so, Hockley. Let me see your hand.”
“Yes, sir. But hadn’t we better get out of here? There may be more
around?”
“We might go where there are more instead of less. Venezuela is full of
centipedes, and some of them are dangerous. But that wasn’t such a big
fellow, and your hand seems to be all right. They won’t bite a human
being unless they are pushed to it, and some natives do not mind the
bites at all.”
“No hurt me,” put in Cubara, with a smile. “Some of my people eat
dem--no poison much, no,” and he shook his head vigorously.
“I don’t want any more of them,” growled Hockley. “What a nasty looking
thing--with so many legs!”
“You always want to shake out everything you wear before you put it
on,” said the professor, to all of the boys. “If you don’t you may
encounter scorpions and tarantulas as well as centipedes. They are the
great drawbacks to almost every hot country.”