gave them so much trouble through his absent-mindedness. He was a very
entertaining traveling companion when not engaged in his botanical
studies, and so good-humored, and obliging that his comrades did not
grumble very much at the trouble he gave them. But, nevertheless,
he did cause them great anxiety, for they found out that when he
was searching for plants, or had a flower in his hand analyzing it,
he would put himself into situations of great peril without knowing
anything about it. And so, at least one of their number always had to
be on the lookout for Mr. Reed, to keep him out of mischief.
For one thing, he _would_ stray away from the main body. This was
against the rules of the expedition, for, in a forest full of wild
beasts it was necessary to keep together. Generally, when he wandered
off this way, he would be missed, and brought back before he had got
entirely out of sight. But, on three occasions, he managed to get lost,
without intending anything of the kind, and each time, he met with a
remarkable adventure.
The party had been out but a few days when he was lost for the first
time. He must have been absent two hours, when his companions first
missed him. At least no one could remember having seen him for that
length of time. What might not have happened to him in those two hours,
everywhere surrounded by dangers? They immediately commenced the search
for him.
They went back over the route they had traveled, and, at last, found
the place where Mr. Reed had left the caravan. They knew it by the
trampled bushes, and by the twigs broken off here and there, and plants
pulled up by the roots. Following these marks of his progress they
suddenly came out upon the banks of a river. And there they saw the
botanist. And, at the same time, all were struck with horror at his
situation. He, alone, was happily serene, unconscious that any danger
was near him.
Seated on a mossy bank, in the midst of tall reeds, on a peninsula that
extended pretty far out into the river, was their botanist. He had
an umbrella over his head to shield him from the sun, and was busily
engaged, arranging some “specimens” in his book of plants, which he
called an Herbarium. His back was towards the river, and so absorbed
was he in his occupation that he had not discovered that a whole colony
of crocodiles had come to pay him a visit. Neither did he hear or see
his companions although his face was turned directly towards them.
The crocodiles had arranged themselves in a long row, with their
heads above the water, watching the botanist with great interest, and
evidently, meditating an attack upon him. How long they had been there
could not, of course, be known, but, in a few moments after the hunters
appeared upon the scene, the nearest crocodile seemed to have made up
his mind that a botanist was good to eat, and made straight towards the
land, followed by another huge beast.
[Illustration: THE UNCONSCIOUS MR. REED.]
Mr. Reed continued calmly to arrange his specimens.
Two men from the hunting party at once rushed forward upon the
peninsula, and fired upon the crocodiles. It was quite time, for two
of the foremost ones had reached the land. They rolled over into the
water, and all of the great beasts at once disappeared under the
surface of the river.
The shots did arouse Mr. Reed’s attention, or else he had finished his
work; for he looked up, and said to his companions, who now surrounded
him:
“I have found one of the rarest of plants—the _Iscodextiana_—and it has
twelve stamens, just as I have always maintained.”
“I wonder if it would have agreed with the stomach of a crocodile!”
said one of the hunters.
Mr. Reed was so alarmed at the account of the peril to which he had
exposed himself, that it was a long time before he again wandered from
the caravan. The party had then formed a camp on what was considered
good hunting ground—that is in a forest frequented by wild beasts. The
hunters were successful in killing a good many of these, and enjoyed
the dangerous sport very greatly. Meanwhile Mr. Reed continued his
peaceful hunting of the wild flowers, which grew all around in the most
lavish profusion.
There were always some men left in the camp to guard it. One day, when
the hunters had returned, and were gathering around the supper table,
they missed Mr. Reed. On questioning the men who had had charge of
the camp, they could not remember when they had last seen him. It was
evident that he had wandered off to a distance. If he got into one of
his fits of abstraction there was no knowing when he would ever find
out he was lost, and try to get back again.
Hastily swallowing some supper, a party of men went out in search of
the lost botanist, but were obliged to return to the camp without him,
for night came on, and the darkness was intense, and they could not
continue the search.
They retired to rest with heavy hearts, for they greatly feared their
very troublesome but very pleasant companion would fall a prey to some
wild beast. The sentinels on guard kept peering out into the black
forest, hoping to see the figure of their missing companion. They kept
up great fires as beacons to guide him to the camp.
In the middle of the night the whole camp was aroused by the cries of
the sentinels. The forest to the south of them was on fire. The wind
was high, and as there were many dead trees, and a great deal of dry
wood lying on the ground, the flames spread with great rapidity. The
hunters were not afraid that it would come their way, as the wind blew
it in an opposite direction. So they enjoyed the grand spectacle.
In an hour the fire had extended through the woods for several miles.
The howls, and shrieks, and bellowings of hyenas, jackals, lions, and
tigers filled the air, as the frightened animals rushed out of the
flaming forest. A huge black form would sometimes loom up against the
red sky, and then seem to sink away into the darkness. This was an
elephant seeking refuge from the flames.
The hunters had watched the conflagration some time, when they saw the
figure of a man running towards them from the burning woods. It was Mr.
Reed! He had not been able to find the camp, he said, until the fiery
forest had made everything so bright that he clearly saw the huts and
tents from a long distance.
It appeared that he had lost his way while botanizing, but had started
on his return, confident he could follow his own trail back. But he
soon saw what he considered to be a flower. If so, it was larger than
any known to botanists. However he was not sure but it might be a
brilliantly colored mushroom. He forgot everything while examining
this, until, to his surprise, he found he could not see it. Night had
come on! He collected a quantity of dry wood into a heap, and taking a
match from his pocket applied it to the wood. This gave him a bright
light for the further examination of the plant.
He did not know how long it was after this that he discovered he was
nearly surrounded by burning wood, and that the forest was roaring and
crackling in front of him. He beat a retreat with all speed.
[Illustration: THE FOREST FIRE.]
And so it was, our absent-minded botanist who had got up this mighty
conflagration, and frightened all the wild beasts out of their senses.
It was lucky for him that he lighted the fire, otherwise it is more
than probable some one of the wild beasts would have made short work of
him in the course of the night.
His next adventure was a very serious one, and yet it was very funny
too. It happened when the expedition was returning to Cape Town. By
that time Mr. Reed’s herbarium was filled with specimens. It was of
more value, he said, than diamonds. He expected to astonish and delight
the scientific world with that book of plants. He would never trust it
to any one else for more than a few moments at a time. He slept with it
under his pillow.
And yet he allowed this precious book to be stolen from him.
And by whom?
By a baboon!
In one of his fits of abstraction he had again wandered out of sight
of his companions. He had the herbarium open, and, as he walked along,
was studying his contents. Suddenly a great, black, hairy paw was
thrust right under his nose, and the book snatched out of his hand in a
twinkling.
Looking up, he saw in the tree far above his head, a large baboon,
grinning and chattering, and turning over the leaves of his beloved
herbarium with no gentle hand. But Mr. Reed had no idea of losing his
book, and immediately began to climb the tree. The baboon grasped his
stolen property, firmly, and swung himself lightly to the next tree.
Seeing the folly of attempting to follow the animal, Mr. Reed returned
to his companions, finding his way with some difficulty; and implored
them to recover for him this lost treasure.
They laughed at him, but good-naturedly accompanied him to the place of
the theft, though they did not expect to find the monkey there; much
less did they suppose the book to be still entire.
But, on reaching the spot, there, on a low branch of a tree, was the
baboon, busily engaged in turning the book over and over, as if anxious
to make out what manner of thing he had got hold of.
[Illustration: THE COMBAT WITH THE BABOON.]
He did not take any notice of the party of men, and it would have been
easy to have shot him. But the botanist made this impossible, for no
sooner did he get a sight of the thief, thus displaying his booty, than
he rushed forward to seize his precious volume; in this way getting
between the gun and the animal.
The baboon, instead of retreating, as he had done before, sprang to the
ground, and rushed upon the botanist. A fierce battle ensued. Sometimes
the baboon was uppermost, and sometimes Mr. Reed. But the monkey had
weapons in its claws, whereas the man had nothing but his fists, and
great physical strength. The hunters tried to shoot the baboon, but
this they found they could not do without danger to Mr. Reed.
Finally one of them, watching his chance, when the beast was uppermost,
split its head with a hatchet, and ended the combat.
Early in the fight Mr. Reed had got hold of his book. It was somewhat
crushed, and a few of the specimens destroyed, but, on the whole, it
was in pretty good condition.
This was the last serious adventure that befell Mr. Reed. He met with
some mishaps, but these he did not mind, and soon forgot them after his
return to Cape Town, where he had the pleasure of showing his beloved
herbarium, and of describing to his friends the plants he had found,
and their characteristics.
SOMETHING TRUE ABOUT THE MOON.
[Illustration: THE FULL MOON.]
In another part of this book I told you something about the moon, which
did not even pretend to be true. No body can go to the moon, although
very many people have traveled more miles than the distance between the
earth and its lunar companion. Any one who has sailed from New York to
Liverpool and back forty times has gone over a greater distance than
that from here to the moon, which is less than 240,000 miles away.
Many a sea-captain has sailed more miles than these. A ship came into
New York Bay very recently that had sailed, in one voyage over 110,000
miles.
But we cannot visit the moon because there is no atmospheric air
between that planet and the earth. If air existed in this vast space
in which a balloon might float, and which a man might breathe, I think
that some of us would manage to get to the moon before any one reaches
the North Pole. The journey would be longer, but there would be no ice
to block up the way.
But notwithstanding the fact that we cannot go to the moon, we know a
great deal about that planet, especially as it affects the earth. And
with the great telescopes that have been constructed, in late years,
we can see much of the general configuration of that side of the moon
which is turned towards us, and it appears very like the picture at the
head of this article. Here we see depressions and elevations, and plain
surfaces which may be, and probably are, mountains and beds of dried
up oceans and vast plains, which, in all probability, are barren and
desolate.
For scientific men feel quite certain that the moon has no atmosphere,
and of course if there is no air, we have no reason to suppose that
there is any life there.
But our principal interest in the moon relates to its effects upon
ourselves, and our own planet, and therefore we should all understand
it as we see and enjoy it from our stand-point.
We all know that sometimes the moon is full and bright, flooding the
earth with its lovely light, and that, at other times it is quite dim,
just a curved strip of light in the sky, and at still other times it
seems to be absent altogether.
Though we have noticed all this, it is very probable indeed that some
of us do not entirely understand these changes, and so I shall briefly
explain them.
When we cannot see the moon at all, which is the case for two or three
days every month, it is because the sun is not shining on that side
of the moon which is turned to us. And we might as well remember that
although the moon moves around the earth once every four weeks, it
always turns the same side to us. We never have seen the other side,
with telescopes, or in any other way.
When the moon is between us and the sun, the side towards us must of
course be dark. Then it is that we do not see the moon at all.
But as the moon moves gradually to one side we begin to see a little
strip of the bright portion as you notice in Fig. 1. This represents
the moon in its first phase.
I suppose you have noticed at such times, when the new moon is very
small, that we can often see the whole disk of the moon, although the
principal portion of it is very dim indeed. Still we can see a faint
light shining upon it which makes it comparatively easy for us to
discern its outlines.
[Illustration: FIG. 1. FIRST PHASE OF MOON.]
This pale light is “earth-light.” The earth is then “full” to the
moon-folk, (if there be any such creatures who can live without air,)
and its brilliancy is partially reflected back to us from the surface
of the moon.
The bright portion of the moon now grows larger and larger until, in
about seven or eight days, we see it as it is shown in Figure 2. Then
it is said to be in its first quarter.
At this time the spots and various markings on its surface are
generally seen very distinctly.
For seven days the bright portion of the moon continues to grow larger
and larger, and during a part of this time it presents the appearance
shown in Figure 3.
[Illustration: FIG. 2. FIRST QUARTER.]
At last, after about fifteen days of active increase of bright surface
the moon reaches that point where the sun shines directly upon the side
presented to the earth, and then it is “full moon.” Of course it must,
at this time, be on the side of the earth farthest from the sun so that
the sun can shine on it, and at the same time, we can see it.
[Illustration: FIG. 3. BETWEEN FIRST QUARTER AND FULL MOON.]
Figure 4 is a small picture of the full moon.
But the moon does not remain full very long, as many of us who delight
in moonlight rambles, and boat-rides, know to our sorrow. It soon
begins to wane, and then assumes very much the same forms that it
presented when on the increase, with this difference; its lighted
portion is always turned the other way.
[Illustration: FIG. 4. THE FULL MOON.]
It now rises later and later. When it was full it rose at about the
time that the sun set, and set about sunrise. But now it rises later
and later until at last it rises just before the sun, and is of course
soon invisible in his brighter rays.
Figures 5, 6 and 7 will give you an idea of the various phases assumed
by the moon when in its wane, or decrease.
[Illustration: FIG. 5. BETWEEN FULL MOON AND LAST QUARTER.]
[Illustration: FIG. 6. LAST QUARTER.]
[Illustration: FIG. 7. BETWEEN LAST QUARTER AND NEW MOON.]
So now we have seen the moon in its various phases, which is nothing
more than we can see in the heavens when the sky is clear, but it is
better always to understand what we see.
We should remember, then, that one half of the moon is always bright.
When it is between us and the sun (not on an exact line, however, for
that would make an eclipse of the sun) we cannot see it at all, and
then we say “there is no moon to-night.” When it moves around so that
we can see a little of the bright side, it is “new moon,” and when it
gets around behind us, so to speak, so that we can see the sun shining
full upon one side of it, it is “full moon.”
If one of us could live upon that part of the surface of the moon that
is always turned toward us, he could see the same changes taking place
upon our planet as we see on the moon.
There would be “new earth,” and “quarter earth,” and “full earth,”
which last would be truly grand!
Think of a bright orb of light in the heavens fourteen times larger
than the full moon, and you will have an idea of how our earth would
sometimes appear to observers on the moon,—were there any one there to
see.
A VOYAGE TO THE LOWER AMAZON.
In another part of this volume there is an adventure related by Mr.
Moore, in which he encountered a snow storm in a tropical country.
Mr. Moore had spent the earlier part of his life in South America; and,
in after years, he was very fond of talking about these youthful days
with his son George, who was a delighted listener to the travels and
exploits of his father.
On one occasion Mr. Moore gave George an account of the first voyage he
took on the lower part of the Amazon river, and I think it will prove
almost as full of interest to my readers as it was to George Moore.
So here it is.
“I had made up my mind,” said Mr. Moore, “to overhaul the boat of
Miguel Espartero. He was a Spanish South American, and captain of the
sloop Bella Donna, which sloop, I had been told, was to start that
very day on its voyage down the river to Para, to which place it was
conveying coffee and chocolate, the produce of the river farms.
“I had some acquaintance with Captain Espartero; and I knew he did
not want me on his sloop, and I guessed the reason. His ideas of
hospitality would compel him to offer me his state-room, and he feared
I would accept the offer. That was the reason he pretended not to see
me when I first came in sight of him in the gapo. He rowed with all
his might and main, without turning his head in my direction. But I
thought if I could overtake him, and convince him I did not want his
state-room, he would be very glad of my company.
[Illustration: THE CHASE IN THE GAPO.]
“So I bribed my Indian rower to his best speed. The captain’s boat was
several lengths ahead, and was lighter than ours, but he was not
as much accustomed to rowing as my Indian, and I felt pretty sure of
overtaking him in the gapo.
“What is a gapo?” said George.
“At certain seasons the Amazon river overflows its banks; and the
forest land, covered by the waters, is called a gapo, and Captain
Espartero was rowing through one of these to get to his sloop in the
open river, and I was following him. I was afraid he would hoist sail,
and away before I could reach the sloop, so I made up my mind to
overhaul his boat.
“We overtook him after a little rapid rowing, and I made a bargain with
him to take me down the river. He was in a hurry, he said, but I was
all ready; and in half an hour we were on board the Bella Donna.”
“Why!” exclaimed George, “that is the name of a medicine!”
“The sloop was not named after the medicine, but Bella Donna is Spanish
for Beautiful Lady.
“For several hours we drifted with the tide, which was running pretty
fast; and then we stopped at a town to take on some chocolate. Here
there were farm-houses on both banks of the river—low whitewashed
buildings, looking very picturesque in the midst of the pretty cacao or
chocolate trees.
“After leaving here, our progress was very slow; and, before night,
we came to a dead stop. Our pilot had steered us upon a sand-bank!
There was nothing for it but to wait for the tide to float us off.
Fortunately we could go to sleep, and we did.
“It was a warm night, and I wrapped myself in my cloak, and laid down
on some cushions on the deck. After a long time I was awakened by a
splashing noise, and, lying quite still in the moonlight, I listened.
There seemed to be many creatures swimming around our sloop. And then
I plainly smelled a musky odor. I knew by that sign who our visitors
were. I got up and looked over the side of the vessel.
“Yes, there they were! I was sure of it! Their long, villainous-looking
heads were thrust out of the water, as if enjoying the moonlight.
These were several alligators looking for something to eat, no doubt,
and I was very glad they were not going to have a chance to eat me. I
was safely out of their reach on the deck of the sloop, but the idea
of having so many of these disgusting and ravenous beasts so near me
disturbed my rest for a long time. So that my first night on the sloop
was not particularly pleasant.
“But the second was worse. We floated off the sand-bar about daybreak,
and made very good progress through the day. Very early in the night I
retired to my little room in the cabin, and was soon sound asleep.
“After some time I awoke. I was conscious of a disagreeable sensation.
I soon found that my hammock was rocking at a furious rate. Presently
it gave a tremendous lurch, and banged my head against the wall. With
some difficulty I managed to get out of the hammock, and, as soon as I
put my feet on the floor, I fell down. The room was pitchy dark, and
the vessel was evidently very pitchy too, though in a different way. On
the deck there was a great trampling of feet.
“I scrambled up in haste, and was eager to get out of the cabin, and
to see what had happened. But I could not find the door. I felt around
the walls, but the door seemed to have vanished. I imagined that the
ship was on fire and that I should be burned up in that little cell. I
kicked, and pounded, and shrieked; and, after a long time, the uproar I
made was heard on deck. Somebody came, and let me out.
[Illustration: A NIGHT TEMPEST.]
“Then I found that a fearful storm was upon us. The scene had been
entirely changed in an hour. All day it had been calm. There was not
breeze enough to move a sail, and scarcely to ruffle the water. Now the
wind was blowing violently, bending the trees until it seemed as if
they would be torn up by the roots. The air was filled with whirling
leaves. The river was lashed into waves, and white with foam. The
lightning was almost incessant, sometimes in blinding sheets, and
sometimes with flaming lines crossing each other.
“The sloop was flying over the waves as gaily as a bird. There was not
a thread of canvas out. We were rushing along under bare poles.
“The Indian sailors were of no use whatever—worse than useless, for
they were in an agony of terror. They were all in the shrouds and
rigging, holding on for dear life. If it had not been for the pilot,
the captain, and one white sailor, I don’t know what would have become
of us.
“The captain assured me there was no danger, so I secured myself on
deck, and watched the tempest, admiring the fine display it made, but
wishing from my heart it would stop. For I preferred the certainty of
safety to the captain’s assurance that we were safe.
“Fearing that the wind would blow me off the slippery deck, I had tied
one end of a rope around the mast, and the other end around my waist.
I suppose I did not tie it firmly, for the rope slipped from me; and
I felt that I was sliding swiftly over the wet deck, on my way to the
river. The sloop was tipped up at such a high angle I could not save
myself. I gave a shriek; there was a crash; and down I went into the
raging waters!
“For an instant I had no sensation but that of terror. Then the horror
of my situation forced me to think how to save myself. I was in the
midst of this boiling river, at the mercy of the furious waves, and
still more furious wind. The vessel was going at a frantic speed, and
would soon be far away from me. At such a time I would not be missed;
and, even if I were my companions could not save me. They could do
nothing except to throw me a rope, and try to hold me up until I could
get to the ship’s side, when there was a possibility they might haul me
up. But all this was not probable.
“These thoughts flew through my mind in a moment. Then I found I
was close to the ship, but I could not see distinctly. The lightning
flashes seemed to have grown very faint, and everything was obscure.
The only thing I could do was to try to get up the ship’s side, and I
made a desperate clutch at it. My hands failed to get hold of anything,
and down I went into the water again. But I did not sink. I seemed to
be borne up on the top of the waves all the time. But, of course, I did
not reflect upon the strangeness of this. I made another attempt to
scramble up the side of the sloop; and this time, I caught hold of an
iron ring!