We travelled all day through the forest, the glimpses we every now and
then obtained of the mountains serving to guide our steps. On emerging
from the forest we arrived at a rapid stream.
"How are we to cross this?" I exclaimed. "We shall spoil all our
provisions, and have our clothes wet for the night, if we are obliged to
swim across."
"Oh, I think we may be able to ford it," said Ned Gale. "Here, mates,
let's catch hold of each other's hands, that if one falls the rest can
pick him up. I'll lead across, and sound with my stick. To my mind,
that's the way people should help each other through the world."
After hunting about for some time, we found a broad place, where, from
the appearance of the bank on either side, we fancied there might be a
ford. So we took off our lower garments, and fastening our loads high
up on our shoulders, we commenced the passage. For some way the water
was shallow, and rose but little above our knees; but we went on slowly,
Ned carefully sounding with his stick in advance. It was fortunate that
we did so, for on a sudden Ned sung out that he could find no bottom;
and scarcely had he spoken, when he sunk up to his armpits, and had not
we not hauled him back with all our might, the current would have
carried him down the stream. We tried several other places, but
everywhere found the water too deep to ford.
"It won't do," observed Ned. "We must stand back to the shore, and try
to find another way of crossing. Here, mates, let's set to work and
collect as many dry rushes as we can pull. I've seen the Indians cross
much broader and more rapid rivers than this on a few bundles of
rushes."
I told him, so had I; and I did not know how it was that I did not think
of it before. Ned had a large clasp knife, with which he cut away the
rushes at a great rate, while, as Pedro and I had had ours taken from us
in the prison, we were obliged to tear them up by the roots, or to break
off the dry ones. When we had made a large heap of them, Ned gave me
his knife.
"There," he said, "you go on cutting, while I begin to build our craft."
There were some young trees growing near, one of which about ten feet
long he had cut down. This he said was to serve as a keel, to make the
craft somewhat ship-shape. He first fastened the rushes together in
small bundles, and these he secured along the pole on either side, one
outside the other. He placed smaller bundles at the ends, and fastened
them together; thus forming in a few minutes a very respectable-looking
canoe, which, though not water-tight, would have enabled us to perform a
much longer voyage than we had to undertake. By placing some bundles at
intervals across the canoe, we hoped to be able to keep ourselves dry,
having our feet only in the water. Our next care was to cut some long
poles, by which we proposed to pole ourselves across. Ned Gale said a
couple would be sufficient, one for him and another for me. Having cut
them, we launched our canoe into shallow water, so that we could step
easily into it; and then, seizing our poles, we shoved out into the
stream. Our canoe kept us well out of the water, though it had a
tendency to turn over, which we were well able to counteract with our
poles as long as we could reach the bottom. We had got more than half
way across, when the water deepened so much that we were obliged to use
them as oars, or rather paddles, to get across; and we had floated some
way down the stream before we again could find the bottom. At last we
landed, and drew up our canoe. I proposed leaving it, to make the
natives wonder at the strange contrivance.
"No, no," said Gale. "Never mind what the natives may think about it.
I say, let us stop and pull it to pieces, or some of the Spaniards may
chance to see it, and it will show them which way we are gone. It is a
foolish notion people have of caring what those they may never see or
hear of again, think of something they have made or done. Nothing good
or useful, I mean, but some folly or other. It's what makes people
carve their names on the top of a rock, or some out-of-the-way place,
that somebody else, about as wise as themselves, may know that they have
been there."
It was the work of two or three minutes only to pull the raft to pieces,
and to send the bundles of reeds which composed it floating down the
stream. Before leaving the river, we sat down and took the meal which
we called our dinner; and having drunk as much water as we required, we
filled up the skin Ned had provided, as we could not tell when we might
again meet with water. Very fortunate it was that we did so. Having
packed up our traps, we trudged onwards.
We had walked about a couple of miles over a country thinly sprinkled
with trees, and naturally fertile, though now without a human
habitation, when, on looking ahead, instead of the green colour of the
grass, and the varied foliage of the trees, we observed, as far as the
eye could reach, one unvaried mass of reddish brown.
"That's a wild heath ahead of us, which we shall have to pass," observed
Ned. "I never saw the like of it."
"See, see," exclaimed Pedro, pointing rather more to the right than we
had been looking. "What is that?"
At first we could not guess what was happening. It appeared as if at a
little distance off there was a heavy snow-storm falling, the whole air
being full of large white flakes, so dense as almost to conceal the
fierce rays of the sun.
"No, it can't be snow--that's certain," said Ned. "But what it is, I
can't say."
The seeming snow-drift swept on as we advanced towards the brown heath.
Pedro ran on a little ahead, and stooping down, soon returned with a
large insect in his hand, which I recognised as a locust. It was fully
three inches in length, of a reddish brown colour, and with very long
and powerful hind-legs, with which, when Pedro opened his hand, it
sprung off to a great distance. The appearance we had seen was that of
a flight of locusts, or rather a small division of their army, which was
about to settle directly in our course.
We were soon among their outposts, where they lay pretty thick; but
beyond, as far as we could see, the ground was completely covered with
them. Pedro, who had often seen them before, declared that, like ants
and bees, they have peculiar laws and regulations; and that those we
first came upon were, like the sentinels of an army, placed to give
warning of coming danger. If such is the case at times, they gave no
notice of our approach, but merely skipped and jumped about, and knocked
against our legs as we walked by.
"It's a good job these beasts have no fancy for eating meat as well as
vegetables," observed Ned. "If they once began upon us, there wouldn't
be much of us left in the course of an hour."
As, however, they neither sting nor bite, they did us no harm, though
they skipped about us in millions as we advanced, while numbers were
crushed every time we put our feet to the ground. We proceeded for
upwards of an hour through this moving mass of life, till we stood
literally in the centre of a sea of locusts. It was necessary to push
on to get from among them before dark, as we had no fancy to attempt to
rest among such unquiet companions. It took us more than another
half-hour to get clear of them; and we calculated that they covered a
space four to five miles broad at the place we found them. We then came
upon the ground which they had occupied, and the most ruthless of
invaders could not have destroyed a country more completely than they
had done. Not a blade of grass remained; every tree and shrub was
leafless, and their branches were stripped of their bark. We could not
help looking with painful amazement on the scene of desolation which
those small animals had caused. Not only would they, as Ned Gale said,
have eaten us up had they been carnivorous, but they might have devoured
Pizarro and the army with which he conquered Peru in the course of a
night. For miles in advance they had left traces of their visit. We
congratulated ourselves on having brought water with us, as we could
find none in the neighbourhood. What became of this vast flight of
locusts I could not tell. I only hope they flew into the sea, or died
from repletion; for had they gone on consuming as much daily as we saw
them destroy, they might lay a whole province desolate in the course of
a few weeks.
We walked on till it was quite dark before we could find a sheltered
spot in which to bivouac. At last we reached a deep hollow, which at
one period of the world's history had been probably part of a
watercourse, but owing to some convulsion of nature, it was now
perfectly dry. Trees grew on the upper edges, and the sides were
covered with brushwood. It appeared, as far as we could judge in the
uncertain light of the evening, to be a place well suited for our
purpose; and we accordingly hunted about till we found a spot where we
could light a fire and lie down to rest. This was not very easy, but at
length we discovered a small open space covered with grass. Gale cut
away the bushes round it, and piling up some in the centre, we lighted a
fire. The flames, as they burned up, showed us the wild character of
the place we were in. Dark rocks appeared here and there among the
brushwood, and tall trees towered above our heads, effectually screening
the light of our fire from any persons who might by chance have been in
our neighbourhood.
We boiled our cocoa, and parched our heads of Indian corn, and then
prepared to rest.
"We might be worse off; and so, mates, I don't think we've any cause to
complain," observed Ned Gale as he surveyed our abode.
This was a favourite expression of his; and he was always contented,
whatever happened. I felt grateful; for though our prospects for the
future were uncertain, we were at all events at liberty, with a fair
chance of escaping our enemies. Ned Gale had a little black pipe which
he prized much, and a small supply of tobacco, which he husbanded with
the greatest care. He lighted his pipe, and sat over the fire enjoying
his smoke in silence.
As usual, we took it by turns to watch and to keep our fire alight.
Pedro and Ned Gale had been sleeping for some time, when, finding that
the fire required feeding, I rose to put some more sticks upon it. As
the flames burst forth more brightly than before, their light shone on
the high branches of the trees, when, happening to look up, I saw just
above as a face peering down from among the foliage. It seemed to be
watching us very attentively; the owner fancying, probably, from his
position, that he was unobserved. As he put his head more forward to
get a better sight of us, I saw that he was an old black man with a
white head; and immediately it struck me that he was employed as a scout
to watch us by the Spaniards. My first impulse was to rouse my
companions.
"Ned Gale, Ned Gale," I sung out, "the Spaniards are after us I am
afraid."
He sprung to his feet, and looking anxiously around, grasped one of his
pistols, like a man ever ready to encounter danger.
"Where are they?" he asked. "I don't see them."
"There, there," I answered, pointing at the trees.
He and Pedro turned their eyes in the direction I indicated. There was
now not only one negro looking at us, but several black faces, encircled
with white hair, appeared among the branches. Instead of flying from
our supposed enemies, they both burst into fits of laughter.
"Those Spaniards? Why, they are monkeys," exclaimed Ned. "Ha, ha, ha!
Now, if I could bring one of them down, he might serve us for dinner
to-morrow."
I could not help joining in his laughter, though I had no fancy for
eating a monkey. He threw up a piece of stick with all his force. It
missed its aim, and served to send the whole troop scampering away,
uttering mournful howls, to a distance, where they for some time kept up
a concert, which effectually banished sleep.
When the monkeys had ceased howling, Pedro began his watch, and I tried
to obtain some rest. Ned Gale, with his sailor habits, very quickly was
lost in the land of dreams; but I was not so fortunate. I saw that
Pedro was reading, and I did not wish to interrupt him. He every now
and then shut his book and looked about him. He appeared to me to be on
the watch in expectation of some threatened danger. At last I gave up
the attempt to sleep as hopeless. There was something in the air of the
place, I believe, which affected me. My young companion had been
sitting for some minutes lost in meditation.
"What are you thinking about, Pedro?" I asked.
"Of my father and mother," he answered, with a sigh.
"Why, I thought you never knew them," I observed.
"I have often dreamed of them though," he said. "Do you know, Senor
David, that I sometimes fancy I may some day discover them. Had I the
means of becoming educated as you are, and of obtaining a fortune, I
would employ it in searching for them."
"If we succeed in getting to England, I am sure my friends, in gratitude
to you, will put you in the way of making your fortune," I replied.
"But I own I cannot see how this will enable you to find your parents,
without any clue to guide you."
"God, if He thinks fit, will point out the way," he answered. "I put my
trust in Him."
I could say no more. This idea had, I found, become the absorbing one
of his mind.
"If my parents live, He too will show me the means through which I may
discover them," I thought.
I had never yet been thoroughly convinced of their loss. I was
perfectly helpless I knew, and I felt forcibly that on Him alone could I
place my trust. The feeling brought comfort and consolation; and lying
down again, a soothing sleep soon stole over me.
I was aroused by a shout from Ned Gale, who had taken Pedro's place. I
started up, and found the sailor with his pistol in one hand and his
long stick in the other, about to spring into the thicket beyond us.
The fire was almost extinguished, and daylight was appearing. I looked
round for Pedro. To my horror he was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is the young Spaniard?" I exclaimed.
"Follow me," answered Ned, rushing forward.
I seized a lighted branch, and with my stick in the other hand, I leaped
after him. A shriek of terror and agony, which I could not doubt
proceeded from Pedro, served to guide us. It was followed by a savage
roar.
"Save me! save me!" he shrieked.
A movement in the bushes showed us more certainly where he was.
"A wild beast has got hold of the poor fellow!" shouted Ned, bending the
bushes before him as he hurried on.
The branch I held in my hand was of a resinous nature, and burned
brightly. It light showed us in a clear space, under a wide spreading
shrub, poor Pedro on the ground, with a large jaguar standing over him.
The attention of the savage animal had been attracted by our approach,
and he stood glaring fiercely, uncertain whether to carry off his prey
or spring at us. Ned was afraid of firing, lest we should miss the
jaguar and hit Pedro. My torch was of more service than his pistol. I
saw in a moment that the only chance of saving my friend was to frighten
the beast, so, thoughtless of the clanger to myself, I sprung towards
him, and dashed the burning brand in his face. I believe I almost
blinded him. With a roar, denoting pain and terror, he sprang on one
side, when Ned rushed in, and dragged Pedro away from him.
"Fire--now fire," I shouted to Ned, thinking the jaguar was about to
close with us.
He lifted his pistol and fired. He was so close that the ball entered
the beast's head, and, giving a bound forward, he fell to the ground
struggling in mortal agonies. Once again he rose to his feet and
attempted to seize me; but my torch turned him aside, and before he
could reach me he rolled over, and in another instant he was dead. I
looked anxiously to see if Pedro was much hurt, or rather I scarcely
expected to find him alive. At that moment a bright light burst forth,
and I saw to my dismay that the bushes round us were in a fierce blaze.
Ned was carrying Pedro in his arms, and dashing through the bushes
towards the place where we had rested.
"After me, mate, after me," he cried.
I did require to be told to hurry, for the flames were leaping up from
all the surrounding shrubs, and climbing many of the higher trees. I
overtook him before we reached our encampment.
"Pick up our traps and come along," shouted Ned, as he made his way
towards the path by which we entered the glen. I stopped at our bivouac
and collected our packages of provisions, and our other property. Just
as I was coming away, my eye fell on Ned's knife. I put it in my
pocket, and was looking to see if I could find any other article, when
the flames caught hold of the surrounding bushes, and warned me to beat
a retreat. They crackled and hissed and roared in my rear as I ran on.
A light breeze had sprung up, and blew them towards us. Fortunately the
bright light they caused enabled us to see our way, or we should have
had great difficulty in escaping from the glen.
Heavy as Pedro was, Ned bore him like a child up the rough ascent. The
fire flew from shrub to shrub, and extended in every direction; the
smoke, too, increased in denseness, and almost stifled us. I could
scarcely breathe, and expected every moment to sink from exhaustion; but
the brave sailor was not to be daunted. Crying out to me to follow, he
pushed on over all impediments. I kept close to him, and in a few
minutes, which seemed an age, we reached the more level ground above the
dell. Ned stopped for an instant to gather breath, but before I had
time to discover more than that Pedro still breathed, we were compelled
to continue our flight, not only by the approach of the smoke and
flames, but by a new danger. The jaguar we had killed was not the only
inhabitant of the glen of his species, and as the path we had taken was
the chief outlet in that direction, a number of animals of all
descriptions came rushing out close to us. I had turned my head to look
at the blazing furnace below us, when, to my dismay, I saw close behind
me a huge animal, which I at once guessed was a female jaguar, followed
by several cubs. I cried out to Ned to hurry on with his burden, and
swinging my stick about me, I dealt her a heavy blow on the head, which
appeared somewhat to astonish her. At any other time she would probably
quickly have avenged the insult; but, frightened by the flames, she
merely uttered a growl of anger and turned on one side, followed by her
hopeful progeny. We did not halt again till we reached a rocky mound,
free from grass or shrubs, to which we had hopes the fire would not
approach.
It was now almost daylight, though the blazing dell afforded us ample
light to see our way. Ned laid Pedro down, and we anxiously examined
his wounds. His side and one of his arms, by which the jaguar had
lifted him, were dreadfully torn, but we could discover no marks of the
brute's teeth. He was senseless, but this we hoped was caused more by
terror and pain than from any mortal injury. We neither of us possessed
any knowledge of surgery, so we had only our own sense to point out what
was best to be done; and in truth we had but little time for
consideration, for the flames were already spreading beyond the glen,
and might soon approach our retreat.
"We must wash the poor fellow's hurts, and bind them up to stop the
bleeding," said Ned. "Where's the water, mate?"
We had a little left in our skin bottle, and pouring out some of it on
my handkerchief, I wiped away the blood. My shirt, I remembered, was
fortunately of linen.
"Here," I exclaimed to Gale, "just tear off the sleeves for me; they
will serve for bandages."
With a seaman's promptness he did as I proposed, and we bound up the
places where he was hurt, in a fashion which perhaps might not quite
have satisfied a surgeon, though we performed the operation as well as
time would allow. Our patient had now began to recover, and after
drinking a little water, he sat up and looked around with a gaze of
amazement on the strange scene below us. The fire in the glen was
raging furiously, and sending up dark columns of smoke to the sky.
Animals of all descriptions were rushing forth from the conflagration,
too terrified to take any notice of us. Three or four fierce jaguars,
with terrible howlings, dashed by, followed by several huge serpents,
who crawled, hissing, along over the ground, disturbed from their abodes
among the roots of the trees. A troop of monkeys ran chattering away;
and parrots and birds innumerable flew over our heads, driven from their
long accustomed homes.
"It won't do for us to remain here much longer," observed Ned. "Ask the
young Spaniard how he feels, and whether he thinks he can get along."
In reply Pedro answered me that he was able to walk, though it was not
without difficulty that he lifted himself from the ground. However, as
it was absolutely necessary for us to proceed on our journey, Ned and I,
supporting him between us, began to descend the rock. There was,
fortunately, a sandy track, free from grass, of considerable extent, on
one side, across which we proposed to proceed. Ned had loaded his
pistols, and we each of us kept our sticks in our hands, ready to defend
ourselves from any of the wild beasts which might venture to attack us.
The fire continued raging fiercely on our right as we hurried on, and we
watched it with intense anxiety, to see whether it was advancing towards
us. Had it taken place on the open prairies, which cover many portions
of the continent, our escape would have been impossible. As it was, our
chance was at times doubtful. By ourselves we might have run for our
lives; but our wounded companion impeded us, and I would have sacrificed
myself sooner than have quitted him. The ground which we were then
traversing was composed chiefly of rock and sand, but there was enough
dry grass growing on it, should it catch fire, to scorch us very much,
if not to destroy us; and ahead, for some distance, it grew much
thicker; while beyond again there appeared a wide extent of sandy soil,
which, if we could once reach, we should probably be in safety. As the
sun rose, the wind shifted to a quarter which blew the flames more
rapidly than heretofore towards us. Ned and I exerted ourselves to the
utmost to drag on poor Pedro, who was not so well aware of our danger.
Onward, in the shape of a wedge, advanced the devouring flames with the
sharp point first. This gradually thickened, spreading out on either
side. Now a rock or a sandy patch intervened, but they leaped over all
impediments, the long dry grass catching fire from the sparks which,
like a vast courier of destruction, were borne forward by the breeze. I
looked at Ned to learn from his looks what chance he thought we had of
escaping, but his countenance did not betray the slightest sign of fear
or doubt. The fire, it must be understood, had, in consequence of the
direction the wind had before blown in our rear, been driven in a
straight line on our right a considerable distance in advance of us; and
now, from the wind blowing from our right, it was taking a course
directly across the path we were anxious to pursue. On our left the
ground was covered with dry grass and underwood, so that we dared not to
venture across it. The only course left us was, therefore, directly
ahead.
"I am sorry we left the rock," said I, as we hurried on.
"We should have been fried brown by this time, if we had remained on
it," answered Ned, giving a glance over his shoulder. "Why, mate, the
flames are dancing round it as merrily as waves in a storm. Cheer up:
we shall do well yet."
Taking courage from him, I pushed on with renewed hope. But this did
not last long. Every moment the fire got nearer and nearer; and already
it seemed to me that the path before us was cut off. By running very
fast we might perhaps get across; but with Pedro to help along, I
thought we could not do it. I felt that I could not leave the poor
fellow, and resolved to remain by him, and perish with him if so it must
be; but I saw no reason why the brave seaman should share our fate, when
he might easily save himself.
"Ned," I cried, when we had reached a spot somewhat more free from grass
than the surrounding ground, "run for it, my good fellow, and save
yourself. I cannot leave my friend, for I owe him much; but he has no
claim whatever upon you. Fly! fly!"
"What, mate? I should be a pretty sort of a seaman if I was to do as
you say," he exclaimed, stopping for a moment to address me. "He's a
fellow-creature in distress, and that's enough for Ned Gale, I hope.
Run--ha! ha! Here, just lift him up on my back, and we'll see what can
be done."
It was the work of a moment to do as he bid me; and throwing me his
knapsack, Ned, with Pedro on his shoulders, set off running, and I after
him, as fast as our legs would carry us. I had before remarked the
great strength Ned possessed when he chose to exert it. He now bore
Pedro along as if he had been a child. Away we dashed right into the
belt of tall grass, one end of which, not many hundred yards' distant,
was already burning. The fire came hissing along towards us like a
fiery serpent. Ned glanced at it over his shoulder, and increased his
exertions. He saw that not a moment could be spared. As I saw it
coming on, I almost shrieked with a terror I had never before felt; and
had I been alone I think I should have fallen. The fire was close upon
us. There was a slight rise in the ground. We rushed up it. I thought
that our doom was sealed, when, to my joy, I discovered that I had been
deceived by the rise as to the width of the belt of grass. A few yards
only of grass had to be passed, when beyond appeared the sandy plain,
without a particle of herbage on it. We felt the heat of the fire--the
flames were upon us. We dashed through the intervening space of grass,
and ran on for a hundred yards before Ned thought of stopping.
"Here, mate!" he said at last. "Help the poor fellow down, and hand me
a drop of water. It's hot work, but we have escaped a frying this time
at all events."
We put Pedro on the ground, and then, as he insisted on walking, we
moved on a little further, and sat down by him to watch the progress of
the conflagration. It quickly worked its way across the belt we had
passed across; and then the scrub beyond towards the mountain caught
fire and blazed up furiously, extending far away to the east, till the
whole country before us seemed one mass of flame. Had it been night it
would have been magnificent, but we were truly glad that it was day,
that we might more easily see our road.
"Well, I hope there are no poor people's farms in that direction, or any
Indians hiding away, for the fire doesn't seem inclined to spare them,"
said Ned. "And now, mates, let's have some prog; we've a long day's
journey before us, and have had a sharp morning's work."
We took our frugal meal, and then seeing that Pedro required some rest,
we made him lie down for half an hour before we recommenced our journey.
"I'm thinking, mate, that this fire will be bringing some Indians down
to look at it," observed Ned, as we walked on. "If they are friends
they will be welcome, as they will help to carry our poor friend here.
Howsomdever, `it's an ill wind that blows no one good,' and, to my mind,
if any Spaniards are on our track they won't much like crossing that
little bit of blaze astern, till we are pretty well out of their reach."
I agreed with him that I should much like to meet any friendly Indians.
We had another reason for being anxious to do so, as our provisions were
running short, and, at the slower rate we were now compelled to travel,
would scarcely last us till we could reach that part of the country
where I expected to find some of Manco's followers. With regard to the
Spaniards harming us, I did not think they would venture so far; but
should they have done so, the fire would afford us a better chance of
escape, and prevent their dreadful bloodhounds from scenting out our
track. Pedro bore up manfully in spite of the pain he suffered from his
hurts. From the very temperate life he had led, his blood was cool and
healthy, and no inflammation set in; which I was afraid would have been
the case. If people would but remember the great importance of
temperance, and would avoid strong drinks, and take only a moderate
portion of meat, they would escape much suffering from wounds and
injuries to which all are liable, and which in so many cases prove
fatal, although no vital part has been touched. I have seen the
strongest men die from a slight scratch; and the weakest apparently
recover from the most terrible hurts. The strong men have eaten and
drunk to gratify their palates; the weak have eaten food to live.