countenance had all at once assumed an expression of cheerfulness,--
almost joy. The others, as they turned their eyes upon him, were
surprised at the sudden change, for but a moment before they had noticed
his despairing look.
"The Mundurucu must be mad, patron," he shouted. "Where is his head?
Gone down to the bottom of the Gapo along with the galatea!"
"What's the matter?" inquired Tom, brightening up as he beheld the
joyful aspect of the Indian. "Is it dhroy land that he sees? I hope
it's that same."
"What is it, Munday?" asked Trevannion. "Why do you fancy yourself
insane?"
"Only to think of it, patron, that I should have been sorry to find but
the trunk of a tree. The trunk of a tree,--a grand manguba, big enough
to make a _montaria_, an _igarite_,--a galatea, if you like,--a great
canoe that will carry us all! Cry _Santos Dios_! Give thanks to the
Great Spirit! We are saved!--we are saved!"
The words of the tapuyo, wild as they might appear, were well
understood. They were answered by a general shout of satisfaction,--for
even the youngest of the party could comprehend that the great log lying
near them might be made the means of carrying them clear of the dangers
with which they had been so long encompassed.
"True,--true," said Trevannion. "It is the very thing for which we have
been searching in vain,--some sort of timber that would carry its own
weight in the water, and us beside. This dead manguba, as you call it,
looks as if a ton would not sink it a quarter of an inch. It will
certainly serve us for a raft. Give thanks to God, children; his hand
is in this. It fills me with hope that we are yet to survive the perils
through which we are passing, and that I shall live to see old England
once more."
No flock of jacanas ever created such a commotion among the leaves of
the Victoria lily as was made at that moment. Like frail leaves the
thick stems were struck aside by the arms of the swimmers, strengthened
by the prospect of a speedy delivery from what but the moment before
seemed extremest peril; and almost in a moment they were alongside the
great trunk of the manguba, in earnest endeavour to get upon it.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.
THE STERCULIADS.
In their attempts at boarding they were as successful as they could have
expected. The top of the gigantic log was full six feet above the
surface of the water, and there were huge buttresses upon it--the
shoulders spoken of by Munday--that rose several feet higher. By dint
of hard climbing, however, all were at length safely landed.
After they had spent a few minutes in recovering breath, they began to
look around them and examine their strange craft. It was, as the Indian
had alleged, the trunk of a silk-cotton-tree, the famed _Bombax_ of the
American tropical forests,--found, though, in many different species,
from Mexico to the mountains of Brazil. It is known as belonging to the
order of the _Sterculiads_, which includes among its _genera_ a great
number of vegetable giants, among others the _baobab_ of Africa, with a
stem ninety feet in circumference, though the trunk is out of proportion
to the other parts of the tree. The singular hand-plant of Mexico
called _Manita_ is a sterculiad, as are also the cotton-tree of India
and the gum-tragacanth of Sierra Leone.
The bombax-trees of Tropical America are of several distinct species.
They are usually called cotton or silk-cotton-trees, on account of the
woolly or cottony stuff between the seeds and the outer capsules, which
resemble those of the true cotton plant (_Gossypium_). They are noted
for their great size and imposing appearance, more than for any useful
properties. Several species of them, however, are not without a certain
value. _Bombax ceiba_, and _Bombax monguba_, the monguba of the Amazon,
are used for canoes, a single trunk sufficing to make a craft that will
carry twenty hogsheads of sugar along with its crew of tapuyos. The
peculiar lightness of the wood renders it serviceable for this purpose;
and there is one species, the _ochroma_ of the West Indies, so light as
to have been substituted for cork-wood in the bottling of wines.
The silk or cotton obtained from the seed-pods, though apparently of an
excellent quality, unfortunately cannot be well managed by the
spinning-machine. It lacks adhesiveness, and does not form a thread
that may be trusted. It is, however, extensively used for the stuffing
of couches, cushions, and other articles of upholstery; and the
Amazonian Indians employ it in feathering the arrows of their blow-guns,
and for several other purposes.
A peculiarity of the Sterculiads is their having buttresses. Some are
seen with immense excrescences growing out from their trunks, in the
form of thin, woody plates, covered with bark just like the trunk
itself, between which are spaces that might be likened to stalls in a
stable. Often these partitions rise along the stem to a height of fifty
feet. The cottonwood (_Populus angulata_) and the deciduous cypress of
the Mississippi (_Taxodium distichum_) partake of this singular habit;
the smaller buttresses of the latter, known as "cypress knees,"
furnishing the "cypress hams," which, under their covering of
lime-washed canvas, had been sold (so say the Southerners) by the Yankee
speculator for the genuine haunch of the corn-fed hog!
In spite of its commercial inutility, there are few trees of the South
American forest more interesting than the manguba. It is a conspicuous
tree, even in the midst of a forest abounding in types of the vegetable
kingdom, strange and beautiful. Upon the trunk of such a tree, long
since divested of its leaves,--stripped even of its branches, its
species distinguishable only to the eye of the aboriginal observer,--our
adventurers found a lodgment.
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN.
CHASED BY TOCANDEIRAS.
Their tenancy was of short continuance. Never did lodger retreat from a
shrewish landlady quicker than did Trevannion and his party from the
trunk of the silk-cotton-tree. That they so hastily forsook a secure
resting-place, upon which but the moment before they had been so happy
to plant their feet, will appear a mystery. Strangest of all, that they
were actually driven overboard by an insect not bigger than an ant!
Having gained a secure footing, as they supposed, upon the floating
tree-trunk, our adventurers looked around them, the younger ones from
curiosity, the others to get acquainted with the character of their new
craft. Trevannion was making calculations as to its capability; not as
to whether it could carry them, for that was already decided, but
whether it was possible to convert it into a manageable vessel, either
with sails, if such could be extemporised, or with oars, which might be
easily obtained. While thus engaged, he was suddenly startled by an
exclamation of surprise and alarm from the Indian. All that day he had
been the victim of sudden surprises.
"The _Tocandeiras_!--the _Tocandeiras_!" he cried, his eyes sparkling as
he spoke; and, calling to the rest to follow, he retreated toward one
end of the tree-trunk.
With wondering eyes they looked back to discover the thing from which
they were retreating. They could see nothing to cause such symptoms of
terror as those exhibited by their guide and counsellor. It is true
that upon the other end of the tree-trunk, in a valley-like groove
between two great buttresses, the bark had suddenly assumed a singular
appearance. It had turned to a fiery red hue, and had become apparently
endowed with a tremulous motion. What could have occasioned this
singular change in the colour of the log?
"The Tocandeiras!" again exclaimed Munday, pointing directly to the
object upon which all eyes were fixed.
"Tocandeiras?" asked Trevannion. "Do you mean those little red insects
crawling along the log?"
"That, and nothing else. Do you know what they are, patron?"
"I have not the slightest idea, only that they appear to be some species
of ant."
"That's just what they are,--ants and nothing else! Those are the
dreaded _fire-ants_. We've roused them out of their sleep. By our
weight the manguba has gone down a little. The water has got into their
nest. They are forced out, and are now spiteful as hungry jaguars. We
must get beyond their reach, or in ten minutes' time there won't be an
inch of skin on our bodies without a bite and a blister."
"It is true, uncle," said Richard. "Munday is not exaggerating. If
these ugly creatures crawl upon us, and they will if we do not get out
of the way, they'll sting us pretty nigh to death. We must leave the
log!"
And now, on the way towards the spot occupied by the party, was a fiery
stream composed of spiteful-looking creatures, whose very appearance
bespoke stings and poison. There was no help for it but to abandon the
log, and take to the water. Fortunately each individual was still in
possession of his string of sapucaya-shells; and, sliding down the side
of the log, once more they found themselves among the grand gong-like
leaves of the gigantic lily.
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.
A LOG THAT WOULDN'T ROLL.
It now became a question, what they were to do. Abandon the log
altogether, for a swarm of contemptible insects, not larger than
lady-bugs, when, by the merest chance, they had found a raft, the very
thing they stood in need of? Such a course was not contemplated,--not
for a moment. On gliding back into the Gapo, they had no idea of
swimming away farther than would secure their safety from the sting of
the insects, as Munday assured them that the fire-ants would not follow
them into the water. But how regain possession of their prize?
The ants were now seen swarming all over it, here and there collected in
large hosts, seemingly holding council together, while broad bands
appeared moving from one to the other, like columns of troops upon the
march! There was scarce a spot upon the surface of the log, big enough
for a man to set his foot upon, that was not reddened by the cohorts of
this insect army!
"How shall we dispossess them?" inquired Trevannion.
"Shure," said Tipperary Tom, answering as if the appeal had been made to
him, "can't we sit thim on fire, an' burn thim aft the log? Cudn't we
gather some dry laves out av the threes, an' make a blaze that 'ud soon
consume ivery mother's son av thim?"
"Nonsense, Tom. We should consume the log, as well as the ants, and
then what would be the advantage to us?"
"Well, thin, iv yez think fire won't do, why can't we thry wather? Lit
us thry an' drownd thim off the log. Munday sez they can't swim, an' iv
they can't, shure they must go to the bottom."
"How would you do it?" asked Trevannion, catching at the idea suggested
by the Hibernian.
"Nothing asier. Give the did three a rowl over on its back, an' thin
the ants'll get undher the wather; an' won't they have to stay there?
Lit us all lay howlt on the log, an' see iv we can't give the swate
craythers a duckin'."
Convinced that there was good sense in Tom's counsel, swimming back
towards the log, they stretched their arms upward, and commenced trying
to turn it over. The attempt proved unsuccessful. Partly from the
enormous weight of the dead tree, saturated as one half of it was with
water, and partly owing to the great buttresses acting as outriggers,
they could only turn it about one tenth part of its circumference. It
rolled back upon them, at first dipping a little deeper, but afterwards
settling into its old bed. They were about to discontinue their efforts
when a cry came from Tom, as if some new source of terror had been
discovered in the manguba. Soon each and all found an explanation in
their own sensations, which were as if they had been sharply stung or
bitten by some venomous insect. While shouldering the log in vain
endeavours to capsize it, some scores of the ants had been detached from
its sides, and fallen upon the bodies of the swimmers. Instead of
showing gratitude for this temporary respite from drowning, the spiteful
insects had at once imbedded their poisoned fangs in their preservers,
as if conscious that they owed all their misfortunes to the intruders
who had so rudely disturbed their rest. But when these stray ants that
had been stinging them were disposed of, their attention was once more
directed towards the manguba, with a still more determinate resolution
to repossess what in their eyes was more valuable than a selected log of
the finest Honduras mahogany!
CHAPTER FIFTY NINE.
DROWNING THE TOCANDEIRAS: FIVE MEN IN A FEVER.
For a time the brains of our adventurers were busied in devising some
plan for routing the tocandeiras from their floating citadel, of which
they now retained sole possession. At last Tipperary Tom again became
the suggester of a scheme for dispelling the multitudinous hosts.
"If we can't spill thim aff the log," said he, "we can wather thim aff
it."
"Not such a bad idea," said Richard. "Come on, let us surround the
trunk, and attack them on all sides, and let all heave together."
The dark mud colour that had characterised it when first seen, and
during the time while they were approaching it, was now changed to a hue
of fiery red, here in spots of patches, there in broad lists or streaks,
running irregularly between the extremities. Of course the red bands
and blotches mottling its sombre surface were the tocandeiras, whose
crowded battalions were distributed all over it. On closer scrutiny, it
could be seen that they were in motion, passing to and fro, or in places
circling around as if in search of the intruders who had disturbed them.
At a word from Trevannion, all the assailants commenced heaving up water
with the palms of their hands, and the log became shrouded under a
shower of sparkling drops that fell fast and thickly over it,
dissipating into a cloud of vapour like the spray of a waterfall. Under
such a drenching the tocandeiras could not possibly retain their hold,
however tenacious might be their sharp curving claws, and it was but
natural that thousands of them should soon be swept from the manguba.
Their assailants saw it, and, rejoicing at the success of their scheme,
gave utterance to triumphant shouts, just like boys destroying with hot
water a nest of wasps or hornets. Louder than all could be heard the
voice of Tipperary Tom. It was he who had suggested the scheme, and the
thought of having his character for sagacity thus raised caused his
boisterous fit of self-congratulation.
But the splashing suddenly ceased, and the six pairs of palms, instead
of being turned upward and forward to bale water upon the log, were now
exerted in the opposite direction, backward and downward, while the
owners of them commenced swimming away from the spot; as they went off,
making vigorous efforts to free themselves from the spiteful creatures
again clinging to them. Not one of them said a word about staying
longer by the dead manguba; but, picking up little Rosa on the way, they
continued their retreat, nor paused again until they felt sure of having
distanced the tocandeiras.
As a matter of course they had retreated towards the tree-tops. After
so many surprises, accompanied by almost continuous exertion, they stood
in need of rest. Having chosen one that could be easily climbed, they
ascended to its branches, and there seated themselves as comfortably as
circumstances would permit. On perceiving that the sun was already over
the meridian, and satisfied, moreover, that the task of getting rid of
their enemies was one that it might take time to accomplish, they
determined to remain all night in their new situation. But there was a
more powerful reason for suspending their journey at this point. They
were suffering great pain from the stings of the tocandeiras, and, until
that should be to some extent allayed, they could think of nothing else,
unless indeed it might be a mode of avenging themselves.
It was fortunate they had found a safe place of repose, and that Munday,
who suffered less than the rest, preserved sufficient composure to make
their beds or hammocks of sipos, for, in less than twenty minutes after
ascending the tree, every one of the party, Munday and Rosa excepted,
found himself in a raging fever from the stings inflicted by the
tocandeiras, since these bloodthirsty insects not only bite as other
ants, but have the power of stinging like wasps, only that the pain
produced by their sting is much greater,--more like that of the black
scorpion.
As the sun went down, a cool breeze began to play over the waters of the
lagoa; and this--the fever having burnt itself out--restored them to
their ordinary health, though with a feeling of languor that disinclined
them to do anything for that night. Stretched upon their rude aerial
couches, they looked up at the stars, and listened to Munday as he made
answer to the interrogatories of Trevannion giving an account of one of
the singular customs of his tribe,--that known as the "Festival of the
Tocandeiras."
CHAPTER SIXTY.
THE FESTIVAL OF THE TOCANDEIRAS.
When a youth of the Mundurucu nation, or its kindred tribe, the Mahue,
has reached the age for assuming the dignities of manhood, he is
expected to submit himself to an ordeal that well deserves to be called
fiery. This more especially if the youth's ambition inclines him to
become a warrior or otherwise distinguished in the tribe. The ordeal is
voluntary; but without undergoing it, the young Mundurucu must consent
to an existence, if not disgraced, at least inglorious; and if not
absolutely scorned by the girls of the Malocca, he will have but slight
chance of winning their smiles.
It must be known to my young readers that a custom prevails among many
tribes of North American Indians of submitting their young men who
aspire to become "braves" to a test of courage and endurance so severe
at times as to be a torture quite incredible to those unacquainted with
the Indian character. You might fancy the South American a very
trifling affair, compared with the torture of the Mandans and other
Northern tribes, when you are told that it consists simply in the
wearing of a pair of gloves, or mittens, for a certain length of time,--
so long that the wearer can make the round of the Malocca, and finish up
by an obeisance to the _tuchao_, or chief, who awaits him at the door of
his hut. But these mittens once described to you, as they were
described by Munday to his companions on the tree, you will perchance
change your mind; and regard the Mundurucu ceremony as one of the most
severe that was ever contrived to test the constancy and courage of any
aspirant to distinction.
When the young Mundurucu declares his readiness to put on the gloves, a
pair of them are prepared for him. They are manufactured out of the
bark of a species of palm-tree, and are in fact only long hollow
cylinders, closed at one end, and large enough to admit the hand and arm
up to the elbow. Before being drawn on they are half filled with ants
of the most spiteful and venomous kinds; but chiefly with tocandeiras,
from which the ceremony derives its name.
Thus accoutred, and accompanied by a crowd with horns, drums, and other
musical instruments in use among the Indians, the candidate for
manhood's rights has to make the round of the village, presenting
himself before every hut, and dancing a jig at every halt that is made.
Throughout all the performance he must affect signs of great joy,
chanting a cheerful strain, loud enough to be heard above the beating of
the drums, the blowing of the horns, and the fracas of his noisy
followers. Should he refuse to submit to this terrible ordeal, or
during its continuance show signs of weakness or hesitation, he is a
lost man. He will be forever after the butt and scorn of his tribe; and
there is not a Mundurucu girl who will consent to have him for a
sweetheart. His parents and relatives will also be affected in the
event of his proving a coward, and he will be regarded as a disgrace to
the family.
Stimulated by these thoughts, he enters upon the trial, his friends
urging him forward with cries of encouragement, his parents keeping by
his side, and with anxious entreaties fortifying him against a failure.
He has courageously thrust his hands into the fiery gauntlets, and with
like courage he must keep them there, until the ceremony is completed.
He suffers cruel torture. Every moment increases his agony. His hands,
wrists, and arms feel as if surrounded by fire. The insect poison
enters his veins. His eyes are inflamed. The sweat pours from his
skin,--his bosom palpitates,--his lips and cheeks grow pale; and yet he
must not show the slightest acknowledgment of suffering. If he does, it
will cover him with shame; and he will never be permitted to carry the
Mundurucu war-spear, nor impale upon its point the head of his slain
enemy. He knows the awful fate that must result from failure; and,
though staggering in his steps, he keeps courageously on. At length he
stands in the presence of the tuchao, seated to receive him.
Before the chief the ceremony is repeated with increased excitement; the
dance is redoubled in vigour,--the chant is louder than ever,--both
continuing until his strength fails him through sheer exhaustion. His
gloves are then removed, and he falls into the arms of his friends.
He is now surrounded by the young girls of the tribe, who fling their
arms around him, covering him with kisses and congratulations. His
sufferings prevent him from appreciating their soft caresses, and
breaking away from their embrace, he rushes down to the river, and
flings his fevered body into the grateful current. There remaining
until the cool water has to some extent alleviated his pain, he comes
forth and retires to the Malocca, to receive fresh congratulations from
his fellow-savages.
He has proved himself of the stuff of which warriors are made, and may
now aspire to the hand of any Mundurucu maiden, and to the glory of
increasing the number of those hideous trophies that adorn the
council-room of the tribe, and which have earned for these Indians the
distinctive surname of _Decapitadores_ (Beheaders).
CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.
AMAZONIAN ANTS.
Succeeding this thrilling account of the tocandeira festival, ants
continued for a time to form the staple subject of conversation, which
was not confined to the particular species they had encountered upon the
log, but related to many others that inhabit the forests and _compos_ of
the Amazon valley. Scores of sorts were known to the Mundurucu,--all
differing from each other, not only in size, shape, colour, and what may
be termed _personal_ characteristics, but also in their modes of life,
habits, and dwelling-place; in short, in every particular except those
essential traits which make them all members of the same family.
The entomologist who would make a study of ant-life could find no better
school to pursue it in than the grand valley of the Amazon. In all
parts of it he will find these insects in countless numbers, and in a
vast variety of species,--separated from each other by all distinctions
of classes founded on habits of life quite opposed to each other. Some
species inhabit the earth, never descending below its surface. Others
live _under_ it, in subterranean dwellings, scarce ever coming out into
the light of day. Others again live above the earth, making their home
in the hollow trunks of trees; while still others lead a more aerial
life, building their nests among the twigs and topmost branches.
In their diet there is a still greater range. There are _carnivora_ and
_herbivora_,--some that feed only on flesh, others that confine
themselves to vegetable substances. There are, moreover, kinds that
devour their meat before the life is out of it; while other carnivorous
species, like the vulture among birds, prey only on such carrion as may
chance to fall in their way, and in search of which their lives seem
principally to be spent.