that of the castaway crew of the galatea. Seated, standing, or astride
upon the limbs of the sapucaya, their position was painful, and far from
secure. The tempest continued, and it was with difficulty they could
keep their places, every gust threatening to blow them out of the
tree-top. Each clung to some convenient bough; and thus only were they
enabled to maintain their balance. The branches, swept by the furious
storm, creaked and crackled around them,--bending as if about to break
under their feet, or in the hands that apprehensively grasped them.
Sometimes a huge pericarp, big as a cannon-ball, filled with heavy
fruits, was detached from the pendulous peduncles, and went _swizzing_
diagonally through the air before the wind, threatening a cracked crown
to any who should be struck by it. One of the castaways met with this
bit of ill-luck,--Mozey the Mozambique. It was well, however, that he
was thus distinguished, since no other skull but his could have
withstood the shock. As it was, the ball rebounded from the close
woolly fleece that covered the negro's crown, as from a cushion, causing
him no further trouble than a considerable fright. Mozey's looks and
exclamations were ludicrous enough, had his companions been inclined for
laughter. But they were not; their situation was too serious, and all
remained silent, fully occupied in clinging to the tree, and moodily
contemplating the scene of cheerless desolation that surrounded them.
Till now, no one had speculated on anything beyond immediate safety. To
escape drowning had been sufficient for their thoughts, and engrossed
them for more than an hour after the galatea had gone down. Then a
change began to creep over their spirits,--brought about by one
observable in the spirit of the storm. It was, you remember, one of
those tropical tempests, that spring up with unexpected celerity, and
fall with equal abruptness. Now the tempest began to show signs of
having spent itself. The tornado--a species of _cyclone_, usually of
limited extent--had passed on, carrying destruction to some other part
of the great Amazonian plain. The wind lulled into short, powerless
puffs, and the comparatively shallow waters of the Gapo soon ceased to
swell. By this time noon had come, and the sun looked down from a
zenith of cloudless blue, upon an expanse of water no more disturbed,
and on branches no longer agitated by the stormy wind.
This transformation, sudden and benign, exerted an influence on the
minds of our adventurers perched upon the sapucaya. No longer in
immediate danger, their thoughts naturally turned to the future; and
they began to speculate upon a plan for extricating themselves from
their unfortunate dilemma.
On all sides save one, as far as the eye could scan, nothing could be
seen but open water,--the horizon not even broken by the branch of a
tree. On the excepted side trees were visible, not in clumps, or
standing solitary, but in a continuous grove, with here and there some
taller ones rising many feet above their fellows. There could be no
doubt that it was a forest. It would have gratified them to have
believed it a thicket, for then would they have been within sight and
reach of land. But they could not think so consistently with their
experience. It resembled too exactly that to which they had tied the
galatea on the eve of the tempest, and they conjectured that what they
saw was but the "spray" of a forest submerged. For all that, the design
of reaching it as soon as the waters were calm was first in their minds.
This was not so easy as might be supposed. Although the border of the
verdant peninsula was scarce a quarter of a mile distant, there were but
two in the party who could swim across to it. Had there existed the
materials for making a raft, their anxiety need not have lasted long.
But nothing of the kind was within reach. The branches of the sapucaya,
even if they could be broken off, were too heavy, in their green growing
state, to do more than to buoy up their own ponderous weight. So a
sapucaya raft was not to be thought of, although it was possible that,
among the tree-tops which they were planning to reach, dead timber might
be found sufficient to construct one. But this could be determined only
after a reconnoissance of the submerged forest by Richard Trevannion and
the Mundurucu, who alone could make it.
To this the patron hardly consented,--indeed, he was not asked. There
seemed to be a tacit understanding that it was the only course that
could be adopted; and without further ado, the young Paraense, throwing
off such of his garments as might impede him, sprang from the tree, and
struck boldly out for the flooded forest. The Mundurucu, not being
delayed by the necessity of stripping, had already taken to the water,
and was fast cleaving his way across the open expanse that separated the
solitary sapucaya from its more social companions.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
A FRACAS HEARD FROM AFAR.
The castaways watched the explorers until they disappeared within the
shadowy selvage. Then, having nothing else to do, they proceeded to
make themselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit, by
selecting for their seats the softest branches of the sapucaya. To be
sure there was not much choice between the limbs, but the great fork,
across which the galatea had broken, appeared to offer a position rather
better than any other. As the swell was no longer to be dreaded,
Trevannion descended into the fork, taking little Rosa along with him,
while the others sat on higher limbs, holding by the branches or stout
llianas growing above them. At best their situation was irksome, but
physical inconvenience was hardly felt in their mental sufferings.
Their reflections could not be other than painful as they contemplated
the future. Their shelter in the sapucaya could be only temporary, and
yet it might continue to the end of their lives. They had no assurance
that they might be able to get out of it at all; and even if they should
succeed in reaching the other trees, it might be only to find them forty
feet deep in water. The prospect was deplorable and their forebodings
gloomy.
For nearly an hour they exchanged no word. The only sound heard was an
occasional scream from one of the pet birds, or the jabbering of the
monkeys, of which there had been five or six, of different kinds, on the
galatea. Two only had found refuge on the tree,--a beautiful little
_Ouistiti_, and a larger one, of the genus _Ateles_, the black Coaita.
The others, chained or otherwise confined, had gone down with the
galatea. So, too, with the feathered favourites, of many rare and
beautiful kinds, collected during the long voyage on the Upper Amazon,
some of which had been bought at large prices from their Indian owners,
to carry across the Atlantic. The caged had perished with the wreck,
others by the tornado, and, like the _quadrumana_, only two of the birds
had found an asylum on the tree. One was a splendid hyacinthine macaw,
the _Araruna_ of the Indians (_Macrocercus hyacinthinus_); the other a
small paroquet, the very tiniest of its tribe, which had long divided
with the little ouistiti the affections of Rosa.
About an hour had elapsed since the departure of the swimming scouts,
with no signs of their return. The party cast anxious glances towards
the place where they had last been seen, listening for any sounds from
the thicket that concealed them. Once or twice they fancied they heard
their voices, and then they were all sure they heard shouts, but
mingling with some mysterious sounds in a loud, confused chorus. The
coaita heard, and chattered in reply; so, too, did the ouistiti and
paroquet; but the macaw seemed most disturbed, and once or twice,
spreading its hyacinthine wings, rose into the air, and appeared
determined to part from its _ci-devant_ protectors. The call of Ralph,
whose especial pet it was, allured it back to its perch, where, however,
it only stayed in a state of screaming uncertainty. There was something
strange in this behaviour, though in the anxiety of the hour but little
heed was paid to it; and as the voices soon after ceased, the araruna
became tranquillised, and sat quietly on the roost it had selected.
Once more, however, the shouting and strange cries came pealing across
the water, and again the araruna gave evidence of excitement. This time
the noise was of shorter duration, and soon terminated in complete
tranquillity. Nearly two hours had now expired, and the countenances of
all began to wear an expression of the most sombre character. Certainly
they had heard the voices of Richard and the Mundurucu mingling with
those unearthly sounds. There was time enough for them to have gone far
into the unknown forest, and return. What could detain them? Their
voices had been heard only in shouts and sharp exclamations, that
proclaimed them to be in some critical, perhaps perilous situation. And
now they were silent! Had they succumbed to some sad fate? Were they
dead?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
THE JARARACA.
There are bodily sensations stronger than many mental emotions. Such
are hunger and thirst. The castaways in the tree-top began to
experience both in an extreme degree. By good fortune, the means of
satisfying them were within reach. With a "monkey-cup" emptied of its
triangular kernels they could draw up water at will, and with its
contents conquer the cravings of hunger. At his father's request, and
stimulated by his own sensations, Ralph began climbing higher, to
procure some of the huge fruit-capsules suspended--as is the case with
most South American forest-trees--from the extremities of the branches.
The boy was a bold and skilful climber among the crags and cliffs of his
native Cordilleras. Still a tree did not come amiss to him, and in a
twinkling he had ascended to the top branches of the sapucaya, the macaw
making the ascent with him, perched upon his crown. All at once the
bird began to scream, as if startled by some terrible apparition; and
without losing an instant, it forsook its familiar place, and commenced
fluttering around the top of the tree, still continuing its cries. What
could be the cause? The boy looked above and about him, but could
discover nothing. The screams of the araruna were instantly answered by
the little paroquet in a tiny treble, but equally in accents of terror,
while both the coaita and ouistiti, chattering in alarm, came bounding
up the tree. The paroquet had already joined the macaw, and, as if in
imitation of its great congener, flew fluttering among the top branches,
in a state of the wildest excitement! Guided by the birds, that kept
circling around one particular spot, the boy at length discovered the
cause of the alarm; and the sight was one calculated to stir terror.
It was a serpent coiled around a lliana that stretched diagonally
between two branches. It was of a yellowish-brown colour, near to that
of the lliana itself; and but for its smooth, shining skin, and the
elegant convolutions of its body, might have been mistaken for one
parasite entwining another. Its head, however, was in motion, its long
neck stretched out, apparently in readiness to seize upon one of the
birds as soon as it should come within striking distance.
Ralph was not so much alarmed. A snake was no uncommon sight, and the
one in question was not so monstrous as to appear very formidable. The
first thought was to call off the birds, or in some way get them out of
reach of the snake; for the imprudent creatures, instead of retreating
from such a dangerous enemy, seemed determined to fling themselves upon
its fangs, which Ralph could see erect and glistening, as at intervals
it extended its jaws. The little paroquet was especially imprudent,
recklessly approaching within a few inches of the serpent, and even
alighting on the lliana around which it had warped itself. Ralph was
ascending still higher, to take the bird in his hand, and carry it clear
of the danger, when his climbing was suddenly arrested by a shout from
Mozey, the Mozambique, that proclaimed both caution and terror. "Fo'
you life doant, Mass'r Raff!" cried the negro, following up his
exclamation of warning. "Fo' you life doant go near um! You no know
what am dat ar snake? It am de _Jararaca_!"
"Jararaca!" mechanically rejoined Ralph.
"Ya--ya--de moas pisenous sarpin in all de valley ob de Amazon. I'se
hear de Injine say so a score ob times. Come down, Mass'r! come down!"
Attracted by the screaming of the birds and the chattering of the
monkeys, the others listened attentively below. But upon the negro's
quick cry of warning, and the dialogue that ensued, Trevannion ascended
higher, followed by Tipperary Tom,--Rosa remained alone below, in the
fork where her father had left her. Trevannion, on coming in sight of
the snake, at once recognised it as all that Mozey had alleged,--the
most poisonous of the Amazon valley,--a species of _Craspedocephalus_.
He knew it from having seen one before, which the Mundurucu had killed
near Coary, and had described in similar terms,--adding that its bite
was almost instantly fatal, that it will attack man or beast without any
provocation, that it can spring upon its enemy from a distance, and,
finally, that it was more feared than any other creature in the country,
not excepting the jaguar and jacare!
The appearance of the reptile itself was sufficient to confirm this
account. Its flat triangular head, connected with the body by a long
thin neck, its glittering eyes and red forking tongue, projected at
intervals more than an inch beyond its snout, gave the creature a
monstrous and hideous aspect. It looked as if specially designed to
cause death and destruction. It was not of great size,--scarcely six
feet long, and not thicker than a girl's wrist; but it needed not bulk
to make it dangerous. No one knew exactly what to do. All were without
arms, or weapons of any kind. These had long since gone to the bottom
of the Gapo; and for some minutes no movement was made except by young
Ralph, who on being warned of his danger, had hastened to descend the
tree. The birds were left to themselves, and still continued screaming
and fluttering above. Up to this time the snake had remained
motionless, except his oscillating head and neck. Its body now began to
move, and the glittering folds slowly to relax their hold upon the
lliana.
"Great God! he is coming down the tree!" The words had hardly left
Trevannion's lips before the snake was seen crawling along the lliana,
and the next moment transferring its body to a branch which grew
slantingly from the main trunk. This was soon reached; and then, by
means of another lliana lying parallel to it, the reptile continued its
descent. All those who stood by the trunk hastily forsook the perilous
place, and retreated outward along the branches. The jararaca seemed to
take no note either of their presence or flight, but continued down the
limb towards the fork of the main stem, where stood little Rosa. "O
heavens!" cried Trevannion, in a voice of anguish, "my child is lost!"
The girl had risen to her feet, being already fearful of the danger
threatening her friends above; but on looking up, she beheld the hideous
reptile coming straight towards her. Her situation was most perilous.
The lliana by which the snake was descending rose right up from the fork
of the sapucaya. The child was even clasping it in her hand, to keep
herself erect. The reptile could not pass without touching her. In
fact, it must pass over her person to get down from the tree. There was
no likelihood of its gliding on without striking her. Its well-known
character--as the most malicious of venomous serpents--forbade the
supposition. The snake was scarce ten feet above her head, still
gliding onward and downward! It was at this crisis that her father had
given voice to that despairing exclamation. He was about to scramble
down to the trunk, with the design of launching himself upon the
serpent, and grappling it with his naked hands, reckless of
consequences, when a sign from Mozey, accompanied by some words quickly
spoken, caused him to hesitate.
"No use, Mass'r!" cried the negro, "no use,--you be too late. Jump,
lilly Rosy!" he continued, calling to the child in a loud, commanding
voice. "It's you only chance. Jump into de water, an ole Mozey he come
down sabe you. Jump!" To stimulate the child by his example, the
negro, with his last word, sprang out from his branch and plunged into
the water. In an instant he was upon the surface again, continuing his
cries of encouragement. Rosa Trevannion was a girl of spirit; and, in
this fearful alternative, hesitated not a moment to obey. Short as was
the time, however, it would have proved too long had the snake continued
its descent without interruption. Fortunately it did not. When its
hideous head was close to the child's hand, where the latter grasped the
lliana, it suddenly stopped,--not to prepare itself for the fatal dart,
but because the negro's heavy fall had splashed much water against the
tree, sprinkling child and jararaca too. It was the momentary surprise
of this unexpected shower-bath that had checked the serpent, while Rosa
dropped down into the Gapo, and was caught by her sable preserver.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
HOLD ON!
Mozey's noble conduct elicited a cry of admiration. It was the more
noble as the negro was a poor swimmer, and therefore risked his own
life. But this produced another effect, and in the shout there was no
tone of triumph. The child was perhaps only rescued from the reptile to
be swallowed with her preserver by a monster far more; voracious, the
ingulfing Gapo. Nor was it yet certain that she had been saved from the
serpent. The jararaca is a snake eminently amphibious, alike at home on
land or at sea. It might follow, and attack them in the water. Then,
too, it would have a double advantage; for while it could swim like a
fish, Mozey could just keep himself afloat, weighted as he was with his
powerless burden. In view of this, Trevannion's heart was filled with
most painful anxiety, and for some time neither he nor any beside him
could think what course to pursue. It was some slight relief to them to
perceive that the snake did not continue the pursuit into the water; for
on reaching the fork of the tree it had thrown itself into a coil, as if
determined to remain there.
At first there appeared no great advantage in this. In its position,
the monster could prevent the swimmers from returning to the tree; and
as it craned its long neck outward, and looked maliciously at the two
forms struggling below, one could have fancied that it had set itself to
carry out this exact design. For a short time only Trevannion was
speechless, and then thought, speech, and action came together. "Swim
round to the other side!" he shouted to the negro. "Get under the great
branch. Ho, Tom! You and Ralph climb aloft to the one above. Tear off
the lliana you see there, and let it down to me. Quick, quick!"
As he delivered these instructions, he moved out along the limb with as
much rapidity as was consistent with safety, while Tipperary and Ralph
climbed up to carry out his commands. The branch taken by Trevannion
himself was that to which he had directed the negro to swim, and was the
same by which Tipperary Tom had made his first ascent into the tree, and
from which he had been washed off again. It extended horizontally
outward, at its extremity dipping slightly towards the water. Though in
the swell caused by the tornado it had been at intervals submerged, it
was now too far above the surface to have been grasped by any one from
below. The weight of Trevannion's body, as he crept outward upon it,
brought it nearer to the water, but not near enough for a swimmer to lay
hold. He saw that, by going too far out, the branch would not bear his
own weight, and might snap short off, thus leaving the swimmers in a
worse position than ever. It was for this reason he had ordered the
untwining of the creeper that was clinging above. His orders were
obeyed with the utmost alacrity by Tom and Ralph, as if their own lives
depended on the speed. Almost before he was ready to receive it, the
long lliana was wrenched from its tendril fastenings, and came
straggling down over the branch on which he sat, like the stay of a ship
loosened from her mast-head.
Meanwhile Mozey,--making as much noise as a young whale, blowing like a
porpoise, spurting and spitting like an angry cat,--still carrying the
child safe on his shoulders, had arrived under the limb, and, with
strokes somewhat irregularly given and quickly repeated, was doing his
very best to keep himself and her above water. It was evident to all,
that the over-weighted swimmer was wellnigh exhausted; and had not the
end of the long lliana plumped down in the nick of time, the Mozambique
must indubitably have gone to the bottom, taking his charge with him.
Just in time, however, the tree-cable came within his clutch, and,
seizing it with all his remaining strength, Rosa relieved him of her
weight by laying hold herself, and the two were drawn up into the tree
amidst cries of "Hold on! hold on!" ending in general congratulation.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
THE PAROQUET.
Alas! there was one circumstance that hindered their triumph from being
complete. The jararaca was still in the tree. So long as this terrible
tenant shared their abode, there could be neither confidence nor
comfort. There it lay coiled upon its scaly self, snugly ensconced in
the fork below, with skin glittering brightly, and eyes gleaming
fiercely in the golden sunlight that now fell slantingly against the
tree. How long would the monster remain in this tranquil attitude, was
the question that presented itself to the minds of all, as soon as the
first transport of their joy had subsided. It was evident it had no
intention of taking to the water, though it could have done so without
fear. No doubt the sapucaya was its habitual haunt; and it was not
likely to forsake it just to accommodate some half-score of strange
creatures who had chosen to intrude. Surely some time or other it would
re-ascend the tree, and then--?
But all speculations on this point were soon interrupted. The little
paroquet, which had shown such excitement on first discovering the
snake, had been quiet while all were engaged in the salvage of Mozey and
the child. Now that a certain quietness had been restored, the bird was
seen returning to the jararaca for the supposed purpose of renewing its
impotent attack. For some minutes it kept fluttering over the serpent,
now alighting upon a branch, anon springing off again, and descending to
one lower and nearer to the jararaca, until it had almost reached its
head. Strange to say, there appeared no hostility in the bird's
movements; its actions betrayed rather the semblance of fear, confirmed
by the tremulous quivering of its frame whenever it came to rest upon a
perch. The spectators' suspicion was further strengthened by the little
creature's continued cries. It was not the angry chattering by which
these birds usually convey their hostility, but a sort of plaintive
screaming that betokened terror. At each flight it approached closer to
the serpent's forked tongue, and then retreated, as if vacillating and
irresolute.
The reptile meanwhile exhibited itself in a hideous attitude; yet a deep
interest enchained the spectators. Its head had broadened, or flattened
out to twice the natural dimensions; the eyes seemed to shoot forth twin
jets of fire, while the extensile tongue, projected from a double row of
white, angular teeth, appeared to shine with phosphorescent flame. The
bird was being _charmed_, and was already under the serpent's
fascination.