APPROACH MY HOME--A WELCOME--MY SISTER NORAH--THE INDIAN'S WOUND
DRESSED--HE TAKES HIS MEDICINE FROM NORAH--HIS GRATITUDE--MY FAMILY--A
HAPPY EVENING--CANDELA LEAVES US--OUR RELATIVE, DON FERNANDO SERRANO--
GERALD AND I PAY HIM A VISIT--THE BARAWA INDIANS--OUR COUSINS--DONNA
ISABELLA MONTEROLA--I PRACTISE WITH THE LANCE--WIN DONNA ISABELLA'S
APPROVAL--WE TAKE OUR DEPARTURE--SWIM ACROSS A RIVER--PUT TO FLIGHT BY A
BOA-CONSTRICTOR--TRAVEL ALONG THE BORDERS OF A LAKE--SEE DR.
STUTTERHEIM--HE ACCOMPANIES US HOME--TAKES KANIMAPO IN HAND--THE FATE OF
DONNA PAOLA SALABRIATA--START ON A SHOOTING EXPEDITION WITH THE DOCTOR--
ENCOUNTER A HUGE ANACONDA--I SHOOT IT, AND SAVE THE DOCTOR--CARRY OFF
THE SKIN IN TRIUMPH.
We were now approaching my father's house, and I recognised several
points in the surrounding scenery. The northern end of the lake came
into view, bordered by lofty palms and other graceful trees, and I
remembered well the shape of the mountains which rose above it.
Tim kept a watchful eye on our prisoner, who, though badly wounded,
might still, he thought it probable, attempt to make his escape. He had
not spoken as yet, but I observed his dark eye wandering on every side,
either in the hope of rescue, or as if considering in what direction he
should fly, should he be able to free himself from the thongs by which
he was secured to the mule. I was surprised that his followers should
have deserted him in the cowardly way they had done. He was a
fine-looking savage, with features more refined and regular than those
of the Indians I had hitherto seen. But his countenance was sullen;
and, from his resolute aspect, he probably expected that he would meet
with the fate the Spaniards invariably inflicted on their captives, and
be immediately put to death on our arrival at our destination. I
suspect that he was in ignorance as to who we were, and supposed that we
belonged to a party of patriots; and if so, he must have been surprised
on discovering the smallness of our numbers.
Tim led his mule, constantly looking back to assure himself that he had
not succeeded in loosening the thongs which secured his arms and legs.
At the same time Tim continued talking to me, and pointing out various
objects which I thought I remembered.
At length he exclaimed,--"Sure, Masther Barry, there's the masther's
house; and mighty glad they'll all be to see you safe;" and he pointed
to a good-sized house with a broad verandah in front, shaded by trees,
and standing in the midst of a large, well-irrigated garden. Though
smaller than I had supposed, I at once knew the house to be that in
which I was born. "And beyond it there, higher up the hill, you see Mr
Concannan's mansion--Castle Concannan, we call it, you'll remember--and
a pretty dacent castle it is, with its high, thick walls and courtyard;
it would take a pretty strong earthquake to shake it down. He has made
it stronger still, by blocking up some of the lower windows."
In our eagerness to reach home, we pushed on as rapidly as our mules
could move. We were yet at a little distance, when, riding on ahead, I
caught sight of the figure of a black woman holding up a chubby little
boy in her arms. I felt sure that he must be my youngest brother,--the
baby, as he was called,--whom I had never seen, and that the woman must
be our nurse, Josefa. She gazed at me, doubting whether the tall young
man she saw approaching could be the little boy who had gone away but a
few years before. The baby, who was a good bouncing one, shook his
rattle, and seemed satisfied that I was some one he ought to expect.
Josefa knew me the moment I uttered her name; and as I sprang from my
mule, she and little Denis, who was named after our uncle, threw their
arms round my neck. We then hastened on towards the front gate, Josefa
shrieking out in her delight,--"They are come! they are come! It is
Senor Barry!" Her voice was heard at the house; and my father and
mother, with my sister Norah and the rest of the family, guessing who we
were, hurried out to welcome us.
Our first greetings over, my father expressed his satisfaction at my
appearance.
"You have benefited greatly by your stay in the old country, Barry," he
said; "and your journey here seems to have done you no harm."
My mother pressed me to her heart; and my sweet sister Norah kissed my
cheek again and again, gazing at me as sisters are apt to do at a
brother of whom they are proud. I am sure I felt proud of her, and
wondered that all the young men in the neighbourhood were not dying with
love for her; but perhaps they had too much to do in fighting for the
liberty of their country.
As may be supposed, my father soon made inquiries about our captive.
Uncle Denis explained how we had caught him, and suggested that he
should be placed in a strong room, under a proper guard, where his wound
could be tended without the risk of his making his escape. My father
observed that he had a small unoccupied room at the back of the house,
which would serve as a prison; and to this our captive was at once
conducted.
As there was no surgeon, either English or Spanish, living within many
miles, my uncle undertook to dress the Indian's wound, and to do his
best to cure him.
A bed was brought into the room, on which he was placed. Uncle Denis
then commenced his operations.
After gently washing the wound, he discovered to his satisfaction that
the ball had passed through the Indian's body, and that he should
therefore not have to attempt its extraction. This greatly facilitated
his task. My mother having brought some linen bandages and a healing
salve, the wound was carefully bound up. The Indian, who did not once
wince, though he must have been suffering great pain, gazed with a look
of surprise at my uncle and the other bystanders, and was evidently
wondering why so much care was taken of him. My sister Norah then
brought in a cooling draught, which she offered to him; and speaking
first in Spanish, and then in the language generally used by the Indians
in the neighbourhood, advised him to take it, assuring him that it would
be beneficial. He, without hesitation, swallowed the draught; and now
speaking for the first time, expressed his gratitude for the attention
bestowed on him.
"We are sorry that you were wounded, and our wish is that you may
recover," said Norah, in a pitying tone. "You must rest now; and if you
will give your word that you will not attempt to escape, or to injure
those who are guarding you, your arms will be left at liberty."
The Indian hesitated, and was apparently considering the consequences
which might ensue should he give the promise required.
"Tell him that we intend to keep him a prisoner only till his wound is
healed, and that we will not now trouble him with questions; but we
shall by-and-by wish to learn who he is, and why he attacked your uncle
and Barry," said my father.
Norah repeated this, for having learned the Indian tongue from her
nurse, she spoke it better than any one else in the house; no one,
indeed, would have been so likely to calm the suspicions of our captive,
and to gain his confidence, as she was. "We do not wish you to speak
now," she added; "but to-morrow or next day, when you are stronger, you
will tell us what we seek to know. And now, will you give me the
promise we ask? It will be for your benefit; and you know how you would
have been treated had you fallen into the hands of the Spaniards."
"I promise to remain quiet as a child on its mother's breast," answered
the Indian. "Kanimapo never breaks his word; and to you, who have
treated him so mercifully, he will be faithful."
On this assurance, in which my father and uncle believed that they could
trust, the Indian's limbs were left unfettered; but, at the same time,
they thought it prudent to place a man well-armed with pistols and a
dagger at the door, and carefully to bar the window on the outside, so
that the captive, even in possession of his full strength, would have
been unable to make his escape.
My father, with Norah, always accompanied by another person, visited him
several times during the evening. Notwithstanding all the care bestowed
on him, he appeared to be suffering much, though, Indianlike, he
endeavoured not to exhibit his feelings; but his eye brightened whenever
it fell on Norah, and he seemed to look upon her as his good genius.
Each time he showed his gratitude by a few words, or by the expression
of his countenance when unable to speak from pain.
We had a very happy evening. My parents were glad to have me back safe,
and, as may be supposed, we had a great deal to talk about.
My young brother, Gerald, was fully as fine a little fellow as Tim had
described him. He constantly came up to my side, and brought various
articles to show me--stuffed birds, and the skins of animals he had
shot--and as soon as he could he dragged me away to exhibit his gun, and
his canoe, and several animals he had tamed. Kathleen, my second
sister, was like Norah, but on a smaller scale; and Mary, the third, was
a jolly little girl, fat and chubby as a rosy apple, in spite of the
climate in which she was born; while the baby, Denis, was a merry chap,
who took to me at once, though he might not exactly have comprehended
our relationship.
Our uncle remained with us during the night, that he might attend to our
wounded prisoner, though anxious to proceed to his brother's house. He
was also unwilling to let Candela go back alone, lest the Indians who
attacked us might be still prowling about, and should murder him.
"I have no fear on that score, senor," he answered; "I know the country
better than they do, and can easily make my way without being
discovered. They would not, either, willingly attack the senor padre's
servant; and so by daybreak to-morrow I will depart, as my master will
be anxious to hear of your arrival."
We sent many messages to the kind padre; and my father especially
invited him to come to our house, should he at any time find himself
threatened by the Spaniards on account of his Liberal principles. His
cloth certainly would not save him, as they had already shot several
padres who had sided with the patriots; the greater number of the
priests, however, professed to be loyal subjects of the King of Spain,
and supported his cause. One might have supposed that the Spaniards,
after all they had suffered at the hands of Napoleon's generals, would
have been inclined to treat their fellow-countrymen in their colonies
with leniency; but, on the contrary, the only lesson they appeared to
have learned had taught them to be more cruel and tyrannical than their
conquerors.
Among the various friends about whom my uncle made inquiries was our
relative, Don Fernando Serrano, whose estate was a few leagues off,
though it abutted upon that of Mr Concannan, which extended a
considerable distance to the southward. Properties in that country are
of great extent, and a visitor to Don Serrano's house had to travel a
dozen leagues through his estate before reaching it. He was not only a
wealthy man, but greatly esteemed by all who knew him. He was supposed
to entertain strong Liberal principles, but, on account of his age and
health, had taken no part in the struggle going forward. My mother's
and Uncle Denis's father, I may remark, had married his sister; he was
therefore my great-uncle, and his children were my cousins. Our
families, too, had always been on the most friendly terms, and my father
and mother had paid frequent visits at his house. His eldest son, Don
Carlos, who was married and had a large family, lived with him. Two of
Don Carlos' sons and one of his brothers had joined the insurgents, but,
not to commit Don Fernando, had assumed different names; though we knew
that both Don Fernando and Don Carlos afforded much pecuniary assistance
to the Liberals. From the precautions they had taken, they believed
that they were not suspected by the Royalists, and at all events they
had escaped being molested.
Their chief cause of anxiety arose, however, from the hostile behaviour
of a tribe of Indians, the Barawas, who inhabited the shores of the
river Guaviare, falling into the Orinoco. They belonged to the great
Carib family, and had many years before been driven by their white
invaders from their native territory on the coast to the eastward, and
had here settled themselves; retaining, however, their warlike
disposition and many of their ancient manners and customs. Barawa is a
Carib name for the sea; and they consequently took it, as was supposed,
from their ancestors having lived on the borders of the ocean, or having
crossed it from the lands they once inhabited. We had little doubt that
our prisoner belonged to that tribe, and was probably a chief among
them.
My father told us of a report he had heard, of Spanish emissaries having
visited them for the purpose of inducing them to take up arms against
the Republicans; and should such be the case, the capture of our
prisoner, Kanimapo, might prove a fortunate circumstance, as we should
hold him as a hostage for their good behaviour. The next morning,
however, there appeared great probability that our hopes would be
disappointed; for on my uncle's visiting him he found him much worse.
As the day advanced, Uncle Denis expressed his fears that the Indian
would die, notwithstanding all the care bestowed on him.
Day after day, however, the wounded man lingered on. My father and
Norah were assiduous in their attentions to him; and he refused to take
such medicines as we possessed from any other hands but my sister's.
There was now no chance of his escaping, for he was too weak to walk;
indeed, he could scarcely sit up in his bed. Still, the Indians possess
wonderful vitality and endurance, which enable them to recover from
wounds of the body; but they succumb very quickly to European diseases.
Though apparently growing weaker, Kanimapo still clung to existence. He
seemed grateful, too, for the attentions shown him; but except having
mentioned his name, he had not told us who he was, nor had he given any
reason for attacking our party.
Uncle Denis had gone home; and soon after Gerald and I paid a visit at
his house. We then went on to that of our relation, Don Fernando
Serrano, where we were received by him and my cousins with the greatest
kindness. They were interested in hearing of all my adventures, and
especially in the accounts I gave them of our capturing the Indian; but
they were unable to conjecture who he was. I was delighted with all the
family, they were so gentle and loving to each other, and so kind to me.
What also surprised me much, was to find that Don Serrano regularly
read the Bible and had prayers with his family. Such a thing was at
that time probably unheard-of in South America. They did not speak
unkindly of the nearest padre, who occasionally visited them, but they
evidently held him in no respect.
"He is a poor ignorant man," observed Don Carlos, "a blind leader of the
blind; he expressed his horror at finding we read the Bible, and urged
us to give up the practice, as one most dangerous to our souls. Now, it
is very evident to me that from the Bible alone do we know anything
about God, or how He desires men to live; and therefore, unless we read
the Bible, we must remain ignorant of Him and His will, or obtain the
knowledge second-hand from one who might make grievous mistakes in
interpreting it,--as Padre Bobo would most certainly do."
I suspected from this (what I afterwards found to be the case) that my
relatives were really Protestants, though they did not openly declare
themselves to be so; that their family had held these opinions from the
time when many of the noblest in Spain had espoused them. Their
ancestor had providentially escaped the doom which the horrible
Inquisition had inflicted on the greater number of those who had become
Protestants: having made his way to America with his wife, he had
settled in this then remote region; but dreading persecution, he had not
attempted to promulgate his opinions beyond his own family. My maternal
grandfather, when he married Donna Teresina Serrano, had, through her
instruction, become a Protestant. Thus, in the heart of South America,
those principles were cherished which, as was fondly hoped, would spread
around them when liberty should be established among the population.
I suspect it was owing to the machinations of the priests that the
Barawa Indians had proved so hostile to one whose wish and aim was
always to benefit them. That such was the case, Don Fernando could not
clearly ascertain; but it was known that Padre Bobo had made several
visits to the Indians, for the purpose, as he professed, of converting
them to Christianity. He had managed, indeed, to induce some of them to
allow him to baptise their children, but they remained as utterly
ignorant of the Truth as before. (What I have here mentioned, I heard
from my own family before Gerald and I set off to visit our friends.)
As is often the case in Spanish families of wealth, there were three
generations living in harmony together, and I was somewhat puzzled at
first to distinguish between my numerous relatives. Gerald, who knew
them all, helped me, but still I was frequently making mistakes. Among
them was a very beautiful girl, whom I at first took to be one of my
cousins, and whom I addressed accordingly; but after I had been there a
couple of days, she laughingly told me that, though she should be very
happy to be a relative, she was not so in reality: that her name was
Isabella Monterola, and that she was a ward of Don Fernando. Then
suddenly changing her tone from gay to grave, she said,--"I am happy
here, and they are all very kind; but I cannot forget my poor father,
who was murdered by the cruel Spaniards because he loved liberty and
hated tyranny; and, alas! my mother, who was compelled to witness his
execution, died of grief. They would have shot her too, had she lived,
as they did other women, without remorse; and me, perhaps, because I was
their child, had I not been so young but I was rescued from prison by
Juan Serrano, and brought here secretly. The Spaniards did not know who
carried me off, and therefore could not send to bring me back, or they
would have done so. You have not been long enough in the country to
have heard one-tenth part of the horrible cruelties those Gothos have
inflicted on our people."
"But you, Donna Isabella, are Spanish, and so are all our friends here,"
I said, after having expressed my horror of the atrocities which had
been committed in the country.
"I am a child of Venezuela," she answered proudly. "I disown the name
of Spaniard; do not, Senor Barry, ever call me one again. We speak the
language of Spain, it is true, and boast our descent from noble
ancestors who conquered the country in which we live; but we have for
ever severed our connection with the land from which we came, because
Spaniards desire to enslave us."
I had considered Donna Paola a heroine, but as I listened to Donna
Isabella I thought her a still more interesting one; and she was equally
anxious to enlist recruits in the cause of liberty.
I had not forgotten the advice General Bermudez had given me; and I
found my young cousins were in the habit of exercising themselves daily
in the use of the lance, as well as with firearms and swords. Every
morning they went out for some hours on horseback, and practised on a
level meadow at some little distance from the house; and I soon became
as expert as any of them. The ends of our lances were not only
headless, but covered with a soft pad, so that we could charge at each
other without much risk of serious injury; and one day, in a sham fight,
I unhorsed all my opponents in succession. As I rode up to where the
ladies--who had come out to witness our sports--were standing, they
greeted me with loud applause, and Donna Isabella especially showed her
satisfaction by the bright smile she gave me and the eagerness with
which she waved her scarf.
We had occasionally, also, real sport in hunting wild boars in the part
of the forest frequented by those animals. The first day I went out I
killed a boar, after narrowly escaping, by a dexterous turn of my horse,
being killed myself. We killed a bear, too, and a puma, or South
American lion--which, next to the jaguar, is the most savage animal in
that continent; and I had the satisfaction of presenting the skin to
Donna Isabella.
But our visit was at last to come to an end. Very unwillingly, so far
as I was concerned, did we bid our friends good-bye, and mount our
horses to commence our journey.
"I shall expect to hear great things of you, Senor Barry," said Donna
Isabella, as I bade her farewell. "The next campaign undertaken by
Bolivar will, it is hoped, complete the overthrow of the Spaniards, I am
told."
"The noble sentiments you hold will inspire me, Donna Isabella," I
answered; "and if you will give me that feather from your hat, I will
ever wear it in battle, and promise that it shall never be seen in
flight."
She, smiling, instantly gave it me, and I fixed it securely in my hat.
We were very young, and I had of late become more romantic than I had
ever before been.
At last we had to ride forward, two of our cousins accompanying us to
the borders of the estate. As we were well-mounted, instead of taking
the rougher but shorter road across the spurs of the mountains, we had
settled to strike down into the plain, where we could gallop for a
considerable distance, and then, keeping by the borders of a long lake,
return towards our own home. Gerald, who knew the way well, said there
were no insuperable difficulties to overcome, though we might have to
swim a stream or two. "But that," as he observed, "is nothing when one
is accustomed to it; and you, Barry, will have many a river to cross and
many a marsh to wade through, as well as mountains to climb, and
hundreds of miles to gallop over the prairie, when you take service with
General Bermudez."
He was right; and I was glad to gain some experience as to the varieties
of country I might have ere long to traverse.
We were armed with pistols, carbines, and lances, though Gerald's arm
was not strong enough to wield the latter with much effect; but he could
skilfully use his carbine when going at full gallop. We trusted,
however, to the speed of our horses, should we come in sight of any
marauding party of the enemy; and Gerald declared that three, or even
four or five, horsemen would not dare to attack us. He was indeed the
most spirited little fellow I ever met, and utterly fearless.
As we galloped along we kept a look-out over the plain for any horsemen
who might appear.
"I only wish two or three would come!" cried Gerald. "We would soon
make the survivors turn to the right-about; for I am pretty sure we
should kill a couple at least."
"I hope that we shall not have anything of the sort to do," I answered.
"I am perfectly ready to fight, when necessary, in a right cause, such
as I believe that to be in which our friends are engaged; but it is
dreadful to contemplate killing people unless stern necessity compels
us. Warfare is terrible work at the best, and the butcheries of which I
have heard in this country show too well what men are capable of when
their passions are excited. For my part, though I have seen but little
of fighting as yet, I wish that peace were established."
"Oh, you wouldn't do for a guerilla!" exclaimed Gerald, in a somewhat
contemptuous tone.
"I shall not fight with less determination because I wish for peace," I
continued, not minding him. "The only way to secure it is to beat our
enemies; and that I will do my best to accomplish, when I have the
opportunity."
"That I am sure you will!" exclaimed Gerald, sorry for his remark; for
though impulsive, and in the habit of blurting out anything that came
uppermost, he was ever ready to acknowledge himself in the wrong.
We galloped on for some leagues, stopping occasionally to give our
horses breath, and then reached the borders of the lake I spoke of--
which extended for some distance parallel with the foot of the
mountains, and was fed by several streams which flowed from them. It
was also connected, by another stream, with the smaller lake below our
father's house. Out of it likewise flowed a river of some size towards
the east.
We had forded two of these smaller streams without difficulty, when we
came to a wider and deeper one.
"We shall have to swim for a little distance," said Gerald; "but our
horses will perhaps carry us over on their backs. However, if we find
that our weight is too much for them, we must slip off; only we must
remember to hold on tight by their manes, and keep at their shoulders,
to avoid the unpleasant pats they might otherwise give us with their
fore hoofs. And, by-the-by, it will be as well, while we are on their
backs, to keep our feet as high up as we can, lest an alligator should
take a fancy to our toes; though, as the brutes are of no great size, we
haven't much to fear from them."
I thought Gerald was joking; but he was perfectly in earnest, though the
danger we were to run did not in the slightest degree trouble him.
I followed his advice when, after wading a short distance, my horse
began to swim. Shortly afterwards, as its body was completely immersed,
I slipped off its back, taking care to hold on to its mane, near the
crupper, with one hand, while I struck out with the other. Gerald
himself, being so much lighter, stuck on, and guiding his horse to a
shelving part of the bank, regained the firm ground.
I was still in the water, when, looking up the stream, he shouted out to
me,--"Make haste, make haste, Barry! for here comes an ugly-looking
customer it would be as well not to encounter in the water."
As may be supposed, I was making all the haste I could; for I had no
fancy to remain in the river longer than necessary, with the possibility
of being seized by an alligator, even though it might be one not large
enough to swallow me at a gulp. I saw that Gerald was more excited than
usual: as he held his horse's bridle, he kept stamping and moving about
in his eagerness. I exerted myself to the utmost, and at length had the
satisfaction of finding my horse's feet touch the shore; when I
immediately scrambled on its back and rode up the bank.
"Look there!" cried Gerald; "that brute would be a more unpleasant
opponent than even a big alligator."
He pointed, as he spoke, to a huge serpent--which, I concluded, was a
boa-constrictor--coiled round the broken stem of a palm-tree, and, with
head erect, floating leisurely down the river.
"I only wish it would come nearer!" exclaimed Gerald. "I think I could
manage to hit it and blow its head off."
He fired as he spoke, but missed; and the serpent, turning its head,
gave a hiss at us, though it did not attempt to quit its raft. From the
way it moved its tail, which served as a rudder, I believe that it could
easily have guided itself to the shore; and as it was big enough to have
crushed not only one of us, but either of our horses, in its powerful
folds, I felt especially anxious to avoid it.
Gerald quickly reloaded his weapon. "Fire, Barry--fire!" he cried out;
"and if you miss, I'll have another shot."
As the snake, though it was not likely to attack us, might injure other
people or destroy some cattle, I took aim and fired; but I merely grazed
its head, for it was a small mark to hit with a carbine. The creature
then gave a hiss, as if it did not like such treatment, and whisking its
tail urged its float towards the bank.
"I say, Barry, the brute's coming towards us," cried Gerald. "I'll have
one more shot; and if I miss we'd better gallop off, for these snakes
move with fearful rapidity through the grass, and this one might catch
hold of us in a way we shouldn't like."
I was glad to find that Gerald was as cautious as he was brave; and
considering his advice good, I agreed to take to flight rather than risk
an encounter with the serpent on dry land. I might transfix it with my
lance, as Saint George did the dragon, but I had no wish to engage in
combat with the terrible beast.
While I was reloading my carbine Gerald fired. "Missed again!" he
shouted; "now let's gallop for it,--the brute's in earnest, and will
have us if he can!"
We turned our horses' heads, and digging our spurs into their flanks,
left the serpent, should it land, to search for us in vain.
After going some distance we pulled rein and looked back, but as we
could nowhere see it, we concluded that, not discovering us on the
shore, it had continued its voyage to wherever it was bound.
"I don't care for human foes, or for any wild animals, but these snakes
are my detestation," said Gerald. "The boa and anaconda, and the big
tree-snake, are bad enough; but there are others which, on account of
their bite, are still worse. There is one called the aques, seldom more
than eight or ten feet long, which is the most savage creature
imaginable; and its fangs are so deadly that a person seldom lives more
than a few hours after being bitten. Not only will the creature spring
out upon a passer-by, but it will follow him to a considerable distance,
and then fly at his throat and kill him,--unless he has a long stick to
defend himself. The Indians and blacks are, with good reason, mortally
afraid of the aques. I have often seen them, but never had a fight with
one; though I shouldn't care about it, provided I was armed with a long,
tough stick."
I confessed that I should not wish to make the near acquaintance of so
terrible a reptile; but, young as he was, Gerald had shot a jaguar and a
puma (on each occasion while quite alone), and several smaller wild
animals--such as black bears, boars, peccaries, and tiger-cats. He had
numerous trophies of his skill to exhibit. No wonder that Tim was proud
of him. He had greatly the advantage of me as a sportsman; but, though
our father and mother had done their best to instruct him, he was sadly
behind-hand in general knowledge and book-learning, such as I had had
the opportunity of gaining at school. Notwithstanding this, we got on
very well together; and there was no fear, I hoped, of our ever falling
out. He looked up to me as superior to him in many points, and I
regarded him with admiration for his courage and hardihood and excellent
temper.
We had proceeded for some way along the banks of the lake, when we
caught sight of a boat in the distance, apparently crossing to reach a
point ahead of us. We could distinguish four people in the boat, which
came on rather slowly. This was accounted for when we made out several
horses swimming in the water astern. The lake was bordered by a fringe
of reeds, which in some places grew some distance into the water, over
which water-fowl of various species winged their flight,--while we
observed several pink-tinted flamingoes stalking with long legs in the
shallows: and as we were watching the boat, a large flight of these
beautiful birds came swooping along through the air.
Being curious to know who was in the boat, we rode slowly on towards the
landing-place, from whence, Gerald told me, the road led past the end of
the lake to our house. As we reached the spot the boat approached; and
looking at the only passenger it contained, I at once recognised the
countenance of Dr Stutterheim, while his canine friend Jumbo was
standing in the bow of the boat. "What, doctor! is that you?" I
shouted out.
"Ah, my young friend, I am very glad to see you," he exclaimed, standing
up and waving his hand. "I am coming to take advantage of your
invitation. But I will tell you all about it when I get on shore."
In another minute the boat touched the bank; when the doctor, leaping on
dry ground, dragged two of his horses out of the water by the long reins
which secured them--a black man, whom I found to be his attendant,
leading the third. Shaking hands warmly with the doctor, I introduced
Gerald, while Jumbo acknowledged me as an acquaintance by leaping up and
energetically whisking his tail. The boatmen then assisted in loading
the baggage-animals with several chests the doctor had brought; and
having paid the men, he dismissed them, and mounted his horse.
"Now, Heliogabalus, follow me; and see that none of the baggage falls
off, you black villain," said the doctor.
The black, having examined the thongs which secured the baggage, climbed
up on the back of one of the animals, and followed us as we rode on.
"I sometimes call him Heliogabalus," said the doctor; "but he is
generally known by the name of Gab, which is a more convenient
appellation for ordinary use. I picked him up on the road to Santa Fe.
I have no great faith in his honesty; but as I wanted an attendant, I
engaged him--though I strongly suspect he is a runaway, and very likely
may be reclaimed by his owner."
"I don't admire him for his beauty," I answered. "Now tell me, doctor,
to what happy circumstance are we indebted for the pleasure of seeing
you so soon?"
"Simply because I found it dangerous to remain longer in Santa Fe," he
answered. "I got no practice,--or rather no payment from my patients;
and I thought it very probable that I should be led out and shot by the
Spaniards on suspicion of being a Liberal, as was the case with many
unfortunate people while I was there. I determined, therefore, to
continue my journey through the country, and gain a further knowledge of
its natural history and productions,--keeping, if possible, out of the
way of the combatants. I should have preferred travelling in more
peaceable times; but, as life is short, I might not have an opportunity
were I to defer my travels till the Spaniards are driven out of the
country and peace is restored."
Of course I told him that, under any circumstances, we were very glad to
see him; and it at once occurred to me, that should our captive Indian
be still alive, the doctor might by his superior skill assist to cure
him.
"I have a grand remedy, which, if he has still some breath in his body,
is almost sure to succeed," he answered.
"What is it?" I asked.
"To let nature take its course," he replied. "Perhaps your friends have
been doctoring him overmuch; but I shall judge when I see him."
It was late when we reached our house, and my father, to whom I had
before described the doctor, gave him a hearty welcome.
I was thankful to hear that the Indian was still alive, though in a very
weak state; so the doctor was at once taken in to see him. Having
examined his wound and felt his pulse, he observed,--"I see all about
it. We will give him stimulants, which will set the machine agoing.
You have been afraid of fever, and have kept him too low. I will answer
for it that in a few days he will be ready to perform his war-dance and
flourish his scalping-knife with as much energy as ever."
Norah, who heard this remark, assured the doctor that she believed his
patient had become perfectly civilised, mild, and gentle.
"Oh yes, while he is in this house and in your presence, young lady; but
let him get back to his old haunts among his savage companions, and he
will cut throats with as much zest as ever," replied the doctor.
At the supper-table my father inquired what news the doctor brought from
Bogota.
"Judging from the cruelties inflicted on their prisoners, the Spaniards
know that they are losing ground," he answered. "It is bad enough when
they shoot men taken in arms; but the day before I left I witnessed a
sight which made my blood boil with indignation--and I am not apt to
feel such sensations, I assure you. A young lady, it appears, residing
in the city, was accused of favouring the patriot cause, and of giving
information to its leaders--of being a spy, in fact. A letter she had
written to Bolivar was stopped, and the bearer confessed that it had
been intrusted to him to deliver, by her. She was immediately arrested
and brought before the judge. She was young and beautiful--very
beautiful indeed, I assure you--and I should have thought that her
appearance alone would have softened the heart of the greatest tyrant.
I expected to hear her plead her innocence with tears in her eyes,
imploring for mercy; but instead, she stood calm and unmoved, and boldly
acknowledged herself a patriot, and ready to die, if required, so that
she might know her beloved country would gain its freedom. Not one
among those collected at the trial dared to utter a word in her favour:
she was condemned to die, and was forthwith led out to undergo the
sentence just pronounced. She bowed her head proudly, not a limb
trembling, not a tear dropping from her eye. It was granted her, as a
favour, that she should be shot, on account of her rank and the high
estimation in which she was held. A priest was sent for; but she
refused his services, observing that she had counted the cost, and had
made full preparation for the fate which awaited her should she be
discovered--her only regret being that she could no longer serve the
cause in which she gloried. `Do you leave no one behind you who will
mourn your loss?' asked her military judge, with cruel irony in his
tone; for it was known that she was engaged to marry a young and
handsome colonel of the Republican army."
"Who was she?" I exclaimed eagerly, my heart sinking as I heard the
doctor say this; "what was her name?"
"Donna Paola Salabriata," he answered. "Without being allowed to take a
last farewell of her friends, or to communicate with any one, she was
led out into the great square, followed by a party of soldiers,"
continued the doctor, not observing my agitation. "She entreated as a
favour that her eyes might not be bound; and facing her executioners,
she stood with her arms crossed on her fair bosom, without for a moment
exhibiting the slightest fear. I could not have believed that any woman
would have shown courage so undaunted, and yet be so gentle and modest
in all her actions. Stoical and indifferent as I am, I could scarcely
refrain from shouting `To the rescue!' and rushing forward to preserve
her; but I remembered in time that I should certainly be shot did I make
the attempt. And so, rooted to the spot, and feeling as if I were
turning into stone, I waited till the fatal word should be given. Could
any being in the form of man, as he beheld that young creature in all
her maiden beauty, utter that word? Could those swarthy soldiers,
savage as they looked, pull a trigger to deprive her of life? Yes! and
the officer--who perhaps was a husband, perhaps a father--in a loud
voice, which sounded to me like the shriek of a demon, gave the order to
fire. Then came the rattle of musketry and a cloud of smoke; and the
fair young girl, pierced by a dozen wounds, sank lifeless on the ground.
The officer advanced to ascertain that she was dead, followed by the
soldiers, to plunge their bayonets into her had she shown any signs of
life. But death had been merciful; and the still lovely corpse--for not
a shot had struck her countenance--was placed on a bier, and carried
away for interment."
As the doctor finished his thrilling narrative, unable longer to
restrain myself, I burst into tears, at the thought of one so young, so
lovely, and so devoted to a noble cause, having been thus cruelly put to
death. My heart bled, too, for young Colonel Acosta. I reflected on
the agony he must endure, the bitter desire for vengeance which must
animate his bosom. I little fancied at the time that he was my cousin,
and that I should be by his side on the field of battle when, in the
hour of victory, he cast his last fond look at the miniature of the
lovely girl whom he had hoped one day to make his bride, ere she was
foully murdered by those who were now about to be driven for ever from
the land. But I anticipate events.
The account we had heard excited feelings of grief and indignation in
all our family. Norah was weeping bitterly; she had known Donna Paola.
Even had she not known her, she would have wept at the tale, and wished,
as I did, to aid in driving our tyrants from the land. I suspect that
had my worthy schoolmaster been present, his sympathies would have been
with us, and he would not have advised me to remain neutral in the
struggle. But I must quit the subject; I cannot, even at the present
day, speak of it without a choking sensation rising in my bosom.
The doctor looked surprised at the effect his narrative had produced;
and he expressed his regret that he should have spoken of her, when I
told him that I had but lately met Donna Paola.
"Now we will talk of something else," he said. "Your brother seems to
be a great sportsman for one so young, Mr Barry. I hope that he will
assist me in obtaining specimens of natural history, and enable me to
gain a further knowledge of the habits of the quadrupeds and quadrumana,
and of the feathered tribes, of this region."
"I shall be very happy to accompany you, doctor,--either into the
forests, or over the plains, or up the mountains, or on the shores of
the lakes,--whenever you wish to go," said Gerald.
"I should be ready to go to-morrow; but I must not neglect my patient,"
answered the doctor. "And he will require my care for a few days; and
trust me, I will do my best to cure him."
The rest of the evening was spent in talking of our proposed
shooting-excursion.
Some days elapsed, however, before we could set out. The doctor was
most attentive to the wounded Indian, who was now evidently recovering
under his superintendence. Still, he seemed to regard Norah as his
chief nurse; and though he hesitated to take what the doctor prescribed
for him from any one else, he received it willingly from her hands.
At last the doctor pronounced him convalescent, and declared that he no
longer needed his care. "And so, my young friends," he said, turning to
us, one evening while we sat at supper, "we will lose no more time, out
set off immediately. Life is short, remember. `_Carpe diem_' should be
the motto of all who desire to gain information."
I agreed to accompany the doctor and Gerald; and before retiring to rest
that night we made arrangements. Tim, also, on hearing of our plan,
begged to go--being afraid that Gerald would get into some scrape.
The doctor of course intended to take Jumbo. I asked him if Gab was to
go also.
"I have not tried him yet, and I think it is possible, if I put a gun
into his hands, that he might shoot me instead of a jaguar, should one
appear before us," he replied.
I confess I thought that possible, for I did not particularly like the
appearance of Mr Heliogabalus.
My father employed a number of blacks on his estate, as did my uncle;
for they found them far more trustworthy and industrious than the
so-called Christianised natives. Gab soon made himself at home among
his fellow-blacks, but they from the first looked upon him with some
degree of suspicion, for which I could not account; they very probably
had more insight into his character than either his master or I had.
We started early the next morning, with a small quantity of
provisions,--consisting chiefly of flour and biscuits,--a pot in which
to boil our cocoa, and some cups to drink it out of; some condiments,
such as pepper and salt; and plenty of powder and shot. We expected to
kill sufficient game to supply ourselves with substantial food. We were
all mounted, as we could leg-strap our horses while we shot, or leave
them under charge of a black servant, who accompanied us with a
sumpter-horse to carry our larger game, as also the skins of any animals
the doctor might wish to preserve. We agreed to camp out for a couple
of nights, and then return home.
I must not stop to describe the numerous birds we saw on the lake along
the shores of which we took our way--the flamingoes, spoonbills, herons,
and several varieties of water-fowl. Among others, we saw some little
herons as white as snow, which the doctor assured me were great friends
of the alligators. Before long we caught sight of a number of these
saurians lying on a bank in the sun; and while we were watching them,
several of the beautiful birds perched on their backs, and went walking
composedly along, as if they mistook them for trunks of trees. The
alligators were much smaller than those I had seen in the Magdalena, and
both Gerald and Tim assured us that they never attacked human beings.
Having left our horses in charge of our black servant, Chumbo, we set
off to get a shot at the wild-fowl, some of which the doctor wanted to
stuff, while we agreed they would also serve us for dinner. The reeds
being very high, we soon lost sight of each other. I had gone some way,
supposing that I was at a distance from my companions, and was on the
point of firing at some wild-fowl which rose in the air, when, just
close to the water, I heard the doctor shout out in a voice of terror,
which I was sure he would not have done without good cause. I rushed
forward as fast as I could through the reeds, when what was my horror to
see an enormous anaconda, capable of swallowing a foal or a young calf
at a gulp, with its head raised within a few feet of his shoulders, and
apparently about to seize him in its deadly embrace. Either his gun was
unloaded, or terror prevented him from using it.
Hastily ramming a bullet down my fowling-piece, I raised it to fire,
hoping earnestly that I might take good aim. My worthy friend's life
depended on my doing: so, for in another instant the monster might
envelop him in its huge folds. I shall not forget in a hurry the look
of horror depicted in the worthy doctor's countenance. Taking steady
aim, I fired, and the bullet happily went crashing through the
anaconda's head. Though the creature was not killed, its head dropped,
and the doctor had time to spring forward and escape its fangs, which
almost grazed his arm. I shouted to him while I was reloading my gun.
In a moment he was himself again, and imitating my example, got his
weapon ready to fire down the serpent's throat should it again lift its
head. It quickly gave him an opportunity; and the second shot had the
effect of making it roll over and over in a most extraordinary fashion.
I was glad to keep out of its way, and so was the doctor, whom, by
making a circuit, I rejoined.
"I hope this marsh is not frequented by other snakes of the same
species," he observed. "If it is, I propose that we beat a retreat
while we can do so with whole bones. But I should like to have that
fellow's skin; it would be a prize worth possessing. However, I don't
feel inclined to approach it nearer."
"Nor do I; but probably in a few minutes it will be dead," I said.
"Not quite sure of that," replied the doctor; "serpents have wonderful
vitality. But if we could get near enough to cut off its tail, we
should soon kill it."
I undertook to make the attempt. Having a sharp axe in my belt, while
the doctor stood ready to fire should it raise its head, I rushed
forward and severed the tail about six feet from the end. In an instant
its movements ceased, and its coils gradually relaxed.
"Bravo, Barry! The piece you've cut off would make a good-sized serpent
of itself," shouted the doctor, holding it up. "If we could skin it, we
might carry it home."
While we were speaking, Jumbo, who had been at a distance, came jumping
up, and barked furiously at the dead serpent. I rather suspect that,
having seen the creature, he had bolted--not unwisely, for it would have
swallowed him at a gulp. I hinted this to the doctor, who at first
repudiated the idea, but acknowledged that Jumbo was more experienced
with regard to alligators than anacondas.
Our shots, and shouts had been heard by Gerald and Tim, who now
appeared, and congratulated the doctor on his escape.
"I owe it to my friend Barry's coolness and courage," he answered. "I
shall ever be grateful to him;" and he described how I had shot the
anaconda.
The doctor seemed so anxious to have the skin that we all set to work
and cut it off, together with the head. To me it was a disagreeable
operation, as I was unaccustomed to it; but the rest of the party took
it as a matter of course. Having scraped it as clean as we could, we
bore it in triumph to where we had left the horses. They snorted as
they saw it, and the animal on whose back we fastened it did not seem
much to like its burden. Our negro servant gazed on it with horror and
astonishment, declaring that he had never seen so large a serpent.
We agreed that, as there might be others in the neighbourhood, it would
be wise not to remain among the reeds, especially as Gerald and Tim had
shot as many wild-fowl as we required for supper. We accordingly
proceeded on towards a forest which bordered the bank of a stream
running into the lake; and here we intended to encamp for the night.