Considering the circumstances in which he has been left, it is time to
return to the poor student of theology--Don Cornelio Lantejas. We left
him sleeping in a hammock, between two great tamarind trees; and
certainly it must have been his good star that had conducted him into
that comfortable situation.
All at once he awoke with a start--his slumber having been interrupted
by a chilly sensation that had suddenly crept upon him. On opening his
eyes, he perceived that he was suspended over a vast sea that rolled its
yellow waves beneath the hammock, and within six inches of his body! At
this unexpected sight, a cry of terror escaped him, which was instantly
responded to by a growling, sniffing noise, that appeared to proceed
from the tops of the tamarinds over his head!
As yet he saw nothing there; but casting his eyes around, he perceived
that the whole country was under water sweeping onward in a frothy,
turbulent current!
A moment's reflection sufficed to explain to him this singular
phenomenon. He now remembered having heard of the great annual
inundation to which the plains of Oajaca are subject, and which occur
almost at a fixed day and hour; and this also explained the
circumstances which had been mystifying him--the abandoned dwellings,
and the boats suspended from the trees. He had arrived in the midst of
one of these great floods, which he might have shunned but for the slow
and gentle gait at which his _cavallo de picador_ had carried him along
the route.
What was he to do? He scarce knew how to swim. But even had he been as
accomplished in the art of natation as a pearl-diver himself, it would
not have availed him in the midst of that immense sheet of water, on all
sides apparently stretching to the limits of the horizon!
His situation, sufficiently unpleasant on account of the danger of the
rising inundation, soon became absolutely frightful from another and a
very different reason.
Some shining objects, which appeared to him among the leaves of the
tamarinds, and that looked like burning coals, just then caught his
glance; and a closer scrutiny convinced him that these could be no other
than the eyes of some fierce animals that had taken refuge upon the
trees--jaguars, no doubt: since he could think of no other creatures
that could have climbed up the smooth trunks of the tamarinds!
His terror was now complete. Beneath rushed the surging waters. He
knew not how soon they might mount higher and engulf him--for the flood
might still be far from its maximum height! On the other hand, he dare
not climb upwards. The fierce animals in the tree would be certain to
dispute his ascent, even should they feel disposed to leave him
unassailed where he was!
In this horrid state of uncertainty--dreading the double danger--he was
compelled to pass the remainder of the night.
We need not detail the unpleasant reflections to which his situation
gave rise: for a volume would scarce contain the thousand alternations
from hope to fear that passed through his spirit before the light of the
morning broke upon his longing eyes.
Though he had longed for morning to come, the daylight did not add much
to the joyfulness of his situation. The animals, whose glancing orbs
had kept him all night in a state of apprehension, were now plainly seen
among the branches of the trees. They _were_ jaguars--four of them--two
large ones, and two others of smaller size, or _cachorras_. This was
not all that Don Cornelio saw to alarm him. In addition to the fierce
quadrupeds, the tops of the tamarinds were occupied by other living
creatures of equally frightful aspect. These were reptiles: large
serpents of hideous appearance twined spirally round the branches, with
their heads projected outwards, and their forked tongues glistening
beyond their teeth!
The terrified student cast an inquiring glance over the waters, to see
if there was no means of escape from his perilous position. He saw only
the bubbling surface, here and there mottled with huge uprooted trees,
upon which appeared wolves and other wild animals half dead with
affright. High overhead, eagles, vultures, and other birds of prey
wheeled in circles through the air, uttering their piercing cries--fit
accompaniment to this scene of desolation and death.
Don Cornelio again turned his eyes towards the fierce jaguars crouching
among the branches of the trees. These brutes appeared to struggle
against the ferocious instincts of their nature, which prompted them to
seize hold of a prey almost within reach of their claws. Fear for their
own lives alone prevented them from taking that of the student; and at
intervals they closed their eyes, as if to escape the temptation caused
by his presence!
At the same time the serpents, not far above his face, kept continually
coiling their long viscous bodies round the branches, and rapidly
uncoiling them again--equally uneasy at the presence of the man and the
tigers.
Mechanically closing the folds of the hammock over him, and thus holding
them with both hands, the student lay perfectly still. He feared either
to speak or make a motion, lest his voice or movement might tempt either
the reptiles or quadrupeds to make an attack upon him.
In this way more than an hour had passed, when over the surface of the
waters, which now flowed in a more tranquil current, Don Cornelio
fancied he heard a singular sound. It resembled the notes of a bugle,
but at times the intonation was hoarser and more grave, not unlike a
certain utterance of his two formidable neighbours, which from time to
time the student heard swelling from the tops of the tamarinds.
It was neither more nor less than the conch of Costal; who, making his
way towards the spot in his canoe, was employing the time to advantage
in endeavouring to invoke the goddess of the waters.
Presently the student was able to make out in the distance the little
canoe gliding over the water, with the two adventurers seated in the
stem and stern. At intervals, the Indian, accustomed to this sort of
navigation, was seen to drop his oars and hold the shell to his mouth.
Lantejas then saw that it was from this instrument the sounds that had
so puzzled him were proceeding.
Absorbed in their odd occupation, neither Costal nor Clara had as yet
perceived the student of theology--hidden as he was by the thick network
of the hammock, and almost afraid to make the slightest movement. Just
then, however, a muffled voice, as of some one speaking from under a
mask, reached their ears.
"Did you hear anything, Costal?" inquired the negro.
"Yes, I heard a sort of cry," replied Costal; "like enough it's the poor
devil of a student who is calling us. _Carrambo_! where can he be? I
see only a hammock hung between two trees. Eh! as I live, he is inside
it. _Carrai_!"
As Costal finished speaking, a loud peal of laughter burst from his
lips, which to him in the hammock appeared like heavenly music. It told
him that the two men had discovered his situation; and the student at
once fervently returned thanks to God for this interposition of His
mercy.
Clara was sharing the mirth of the Indian, when music of a very
different sort stifled the laugh upon his lips. It was the cry of the
jaguars, that, suddenly excited by the voice of the student, had all
four of them sent forth a simultaneous scream.
"_Carrambo_!" exclaimed Clara, with a fresh terror depicted upon his
face; "the tigers again."
"Rather strange!" said the Indian. "Certainly their howls appeared to
come from the same place as the voice of the man. Hola! Senor
student," he continued, raising his voice, so as to be heard by him in
the hammock, "are you making your siesta alone, or have you company
under the shade of those tamarinds?"
Don Cornelio attempted to reply, but his speech was unintelligible both
to the Indian and the negro. In fact, terror had so paralysed his
tongue, as to render him incapable of pronouncing his words distinctly!
For a moment his arm was seen elevated above the folds of the hammock,
as if to point out his terrible neighbours upon the tree. But the thick
foliage still concealing the jaguars from the eye of Costal, rendered
the gesture of the student as unintelligible as his cry.
"For the love of God, hold your oar!" cried Clara; "perhaps the tigers
have taken refuge on the top of the tamarinds!"
"All the more reason why we should get up to them," replied the Indian.
"Would you leave this young man to smother in his hammock till the
waters had subsided?"
In saying this, Costal plied his oars more vigorously than ever; and, in
spite of the remonstrances of his companion, headed the canoe in a
direct line towards the hammock.
"If these be the same tigers we encountered yesterday," said Clara, in
an anxious tone of voice, "and I am almost sure they are, by the mewing
of their whelps, think for a moment, Costal, how desperately spiteful
they will be against us."
"And do you think I am not equally spiteful against them?" replied
Costal, urging his canoe onwards with more rapidity than ever.
A few strokes of the paddle brought the light craft within gunshot
distance of the tamarinds; and now for the first time did Costal obtain
a good view of the theological student couched within the hammock--where
he appeared to be indolently reposing, like some Oriental satrap, under
a dais of tigers and serpents!