the horrid creature, causing the most courageous to tremble as they
beheld it. There was no mistaking it for anything else than the head of
a serpent; but such a head as not even the far-travelled tapuyo had ever
seen before. In size it equalled that of an otter, while the lurid
light that gleamed from a pair of scintillating orbs, and still more the
long, forked tongue, at intervals projected like a double jet of flame,
gave it an altogether demoniac appearance.
The water out of which it had just risen, still adhering to its scaly
crown, caused it to shine with the brightness of burnished steel; and,
as it loomed up between their eyes and the sun, it exhibited the
coruscation of fire. Under any circumstances it would have been fearful
to look at; but as it slowly and silently glided forth, hanging out its
forked red tongue, it was a sight to freeze the blood of the bravest.
When it had raised its eyes fairly above the log, so that it could see
what was upon it, it paused as if to reconnoitre. The frightened men,
having retreated towards the opposite end of the dead-wood, stood as
still as death, all fearing to make the slightest motion, lest they
should tempt the monster on.
They stood about twenty paces from the serpent, Munday nearest, with the
pashuba spear in hand ready raised, and standing as guard over the
others. Richard, armed with Munday's knife, was immediately behind him.
For more than a minute the hideous head remained motionless. There was
no speech nor sound of any kind. Even the coaita, screened by its
friends, had for the time ceased to utter its alarm. Only the slightest
ripple on the water, as it struck against the sides of the ceiba,
disturbed the tranquillity of the scene, and any one viewing the tableau
might have supposed it set as for the taking of a photograph.
But it was only the momentary calm that precedes the tempest. In an
instant a commotion took place among the statue-like figures,--all
retreating as they saw the serpent rise higher, and, after vibrating its
head several times, lie flat along, evidently with the design of
advancing towards them. In another instant the monster was advancing,--
not rapidly, but with a slow, regular motion, as if it felt sure of its
victims, and did not see the necessity for haste in securing them.
CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX.
AN UNEXPECTED ESCAPE.
The great reptile had already displayed more than a third of its hideous
body, that kept constantly thickening as it rose over the butt-end of
the log; and still the tapuyo appeared irresolute. In a whisper,
Trevannion suggested their taking to the water.
"No, patron; anything but that. It would just be what the sucuruju
would like. In the water it would be at home, and we should not. We
should there be entirely at his mercy."
"But are we not now?"
"Not yet,--not yet,--stay!" From the fresh confidence with which he
spoke, it was evident some plan had suggested itself. "Hand me over
that monkey!" he said; and when he took the ape in his arms, and
advanced some paces along the log, they guessed for what the pet was
destined,--to distract the attention of the anaconda, by securing for it
a meal!
Under other circumstances, Tom might have interfered to prevent the
sacrifice. As it was, he could only regard it with a sigh, knowing it
was necessary to his own salvation.
As Munday, acting in the capacity of a sort of high-priest, advanced
along the log, the demon to whom the oblation was to be made, and which
he still fancied might be the _Spirit of the Waters_, paused in its
approach, and, raising its head, gave out a horrible hiss.
In another instant the coaita was hurled through the air, and fell right
before it. Rapidly drawing back its head, and opening wide its serrated
jaws, the serpent struck out with the design of seizing the offering.
But the ape, with characteristic quickness, perceived the danger; and,
before a tooth could be inserted into its skin, it sprang away, and,
scampering up the mast, left Munday face to face with the anaconda, that
now advanced rapidly upon him who had endeavoured to make use of such a
substitute.
Chagrined at the failure of his stratagem, and dismayed by the
threatening danger, the tapuyo retreated backwards. In his confusion he
trod upon the still smouldering fire, his scorched feet scattering the
fagots as he danced through them, while the serpent, once more in
motion, came resolutely on.
His companions were now more frightened than ever, for they now saw that
he was, like themselves, a prey to fear. For again had he become a
believer in the Spirit of the Waters. As he stood poising his spear, it
was with the air of a man not likely to use it with effect. The young
Paraense, with his knife, was more likely to prove a protector. But
what could either do to arrest the progress of such a powerful monster
as that, which, with only two thirds of its length displayed, extended
full twenty feet along the log? Some one of the party must become a
victim, and who was to be the first?
The young Paraense seemed determined to take precedence, and, with the
generous design of protecting his friends,--perhaps only little Rosa was
in his thoughts,--he had thrown himself in front of the others, even the
spearman standing behind him. It appeared that his time was come. He
had not confidence that it was not. What could he do with a knife-blade
against such an enemy? He stood there but to do his duty, and die.
And both would quickly have been accomplished,--the duty and the
death,--but that the Omnipotent Hand that had preserved them through so
many perils was still stretched over them, and in its own way extricated
them from this new danger. To one unacquainted with the cause, it might
have been a matter of surprise to see the reptile, hitherto determined
upon making an attack, all at once turn away from its intended victims;
and, without even showing its tail upon the log, retreat precipitately
into the water, and swim off over the lagoa, as if the ceiba was
something to be shunned beyond everything else that might be encountered
in the Gapo!
CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN.
HISTORY OF THE ANACONDA.
Though it may be a mystery to the reader why it had retreated, it was
none to our adventurers, who had seen it crawl over the scattered
fagots; they had heard the hissing, sputtering sound, as the live coals
came in contact with its wet skin; they had witnessed its dismay and
flight at a phenomenon so unexpected. They were therefore well aware
that it was the scorching hot cinders that had caused the sucuruju to
forsake the dead-wood in such a sudden and apparently mysterious manner.
It was some time before they were entirely relieved of their fears.
Notwithstanding its precipitate retreat, they could not tell but that
the anaconda might change its mind and come back again. They could see
it swimming for some time in a tortuous track, its head and part of its
neck erect above the water; then it took a direct course, as if
determined upon leaving the lagoa. It was, therefore, with no ordinary
feeling of relief that they saw it finally disappearing from view in the
far distance.
The mystery of its presence upon the dead monguba was soon cleared up.
The log was hollow inside, the heart-wood being entirely decayed and
gone. In the cavity the serpent had perhaps sought a sleeping-place
secure from intrusion during some protracted slumber that had succeeded
the swallowing of a gigantic prey,--deer, paca, or capivain. Here it
had lain for days,--perhaps weeks; and the log, carried away by the
rising of the floods, had done nothing to disturb its repose. Its first
intimation that there was any change in the situation of its
sleeping-place was when the fire fell in through the burnt shell, and
the hot cinders came in contact with its tail, causing it to come forth
from its concealment, and make the observation that resulted in its
attacking the intruders. The hollow that had contained the colony of
tocandeiras was altogether a different affair. It was a cavity of a
similar kind, but unconnected with that in the heart of the tree; and it
was evident that the little insects and the great reptile, although
dwelling in such close proximity,--under the same roof, it may be
said,--were entirely unacquainted with each other.
When the serpent was quite out of sight, our adventurers once more
recovered their spirits, and conversed gayly about the strange incident.
The breeze, having freshened, carried their raft with considerable
rapidity through the water, in the right direction, and they began to
scan the horizon before them in the hope of seeing, if not land, at
least the tree-tops ahead. These, however, did not show themselves on
that day, and before the sun went down the forest behind them sank out
of sight. The night overtook them, surrounded by a smooth surface of
open water, spotless and apparently as limitless as the great ocean
itself.
They did not "lay to," as on the night before. The breeze continued
favourable throughout the night; and, as they were also favoured with a
clear sky, and had the stars to pilot them, they kept under sail till
the morning. Before retiring to rest they had supped upon roast charqui
and fish broiled over the coals; and, after supper, talk commenced, as
usual, the chief topic being the anaconda. On this subject the tapuyo
had much to say, for of all the animals that inhabit the water
wilderness of the Amazon there is none that inspires the Indian with
greater interest than the sucuruju. It is the theme of frequent
discourse, and of scores of legends;--some real and true, while others
have had their origin in the imagination of the ignorant aboriginal;
some even having proceeded from the excited fancy of the colonists
themselves, both Spanish and Portuguese, who could boast of a higher
intelligence and better education.
The fanciful say that there are anacondas in the waters of the Amazon
full thirty yards in length, and of a thickness equalling the dimensions
of a horse! This has been stated repeatedly,--stated and believed in,
not only by the ignorant Indian, but by his instructors, the monks of
the missions. The only fanciful part of the statement is what regards
the size, which must be merely an exaggeration. What is real and true
is of itself sufficiently surprising. It is true that in the South
American rivers there are anacondas, or "water-boas," as they are
sometimes called, over thirty feet in length and of proportionate
thickness; that these monstrous creatures can swallow such quadrupeds as
capivains, deer, and even large-sized animals of the horse and cattle
kind; that they are not venomous, but kill their prey by
_constriction_,--that is, by coiling themselves around it, and crushing
it by a strong muscular pressure; and that, once gorged, they retire to
some safe hiding-place,--of which there is no scarcity in the
impenetrable forests of Amazonia,--go to sleep, and remain for a time in
a sort of torpid condition. Hence they are much more rarely seen than
those animals which require to be all the time on the alert for their
daily food.
Of these great snakes of Tropical America there are several species; and
these again are to be classified, according to their habits, into two
groups markedly distinct,--the "boas," properly so called, and the
"water-boas," or anacondas. The former are terrestrial in their mode of
living, and are to be found upon the dry road; the latter, though not
strictly living in the water or under it, are never met with except
where it is abundant; that is to say, on the banks of rivers and
lagoons, or in the submerged forests of the Gapo. They swim under
water, or upon the surface, with equal facility; and they are also
arboreal, their powers of constriction enabling them to make their way
to the tops of the highest trees. It is these that are more properly
called sucurujus,--a name belonging to the common language spoken upon
the Amazon, a mixture of Portuguese with the ancient tongue of the
Supinampas, known as the _lingua geral_. No doubt, also, it is from
some unusually large specimen of sucuruju, seen occasionally by the
Indian hunters and fishermen, that these simple people have been led
into a belief in the existence of the wonderful _Mai d'Agoa_, or "Mother
of the Waters."
CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT.
A SNAKE "YARN."
Cheered by the thought that the breeze was bearing them in the right
direction, our adventurers sat up till a late hour. When they at length
resolved upon going to sleep, it was arranged that two should sit up,--
one to mind the sail, the other to ply a paddle, and keep the craft
steadily to her course, as well as could be done with such a rudder.
The old sea-cook still had charge of the sheets and halyards, while
Tipperary, notwithstanding that he had already proved himself such an
indifferent helmsman, was intrusted with the steering.
After the many perils through which they had passed, and under the
apprehension of the many more through which they might yet have to pass,
Tom's mismanagement,--the original cause of all their misfortunes,--if
not forgotten, was not remembered against him with resentment. It had
been only an error of judgment,--a fault of the head, and not of the
heart.
Even the negro, whose race appears, almost by instinct, to inherit an
antipathy to the countrymen of Tom, and who, previous to the
catastrophe, was not always on the best of terms with the Irishman, no
longer showed signs of spite: rather had the two become friends. Their
friendship sprung from the ties of a common misfortune, and any little
difference that now displayed itself was in a rivalry as to which should
make himself most useful to the floating community.
On this particular night they sat together as white and black brothers;
Mozey attending to the sipo that served for a sheet to the sail, and Tom
steering the craft by a star that had been pointed out to him as that
towards which he was to keep her head.
Both African and Irishman were not a little vain of being thus left to
themselves. Up to that time both had been playing a very subordinate
part; the Indian taking upon himself almost the sole management of
affairs, and treating them as nobodies. From the night on which they
had made their unfortunate mistake by straying into the Gapo, every
movement had been made by his counsel and direction: moreover, both had
suffered humiliation by his having saved their lives from drowning.
Although they were not ungrateful for that, they were nevertheless
chagrined to think that they should be so looked upon.
On this night, Munday, worn out by his long-continued exertions, was
urged by Trevannion to desist, and recruit his energies by good repose.
As there was no particular reason why he should remain awake, he had
consented to do so; and, with his back against one of the buttresses, he
reposed, silent as the Sphinx.
Neither the man of Mozambique, nor he of Tipperary, was given to habits
of silence; and they continued to converse long after the others had
sunk into slumber. After what had that day occurred, it was natural
that the theme should be _snakes_. "Yez have got some in your
counthry,--haven't yer, Mozey?" inquired Tom.
"Dar you'se 'bout right, Masser Tum. Haven't we got um! Snakes ob de
biggest kind."
"But none so big as the wun we saw the day?"
"Buf! you call dat a big snake. He not more den ten yard long. I've
hab some on de coass of Africa, down dere by Mozabeek, dat measure more
den a mile,--ticker round de body den dis ere log we sittin' on."
"More than a mile long!" rejoined Tipperary. "And thicker than this
tree! Yez don't mane to say ye iver saw wan ov that size yerself?"
"Well, I's not say it war a whole mile. It mout be less, an' it mout a
been more dan a mile. Ob one ting I's sartin shoo: it wa'n't less den
three quarters ob a mile. Youz may b'lieve um or not; jess as you
pleeze 'bout dat, Massa Tipprary. All I'b got to say is, dat de snake I
'peak 'bout war long nuf to go clar roun' de kraal, and twice roun'
too."
"A kraal! what moight that be? I know what a _kreel_ is. Miny's the
wan I've carried on me back, full ov turf at that, in the bogs of
Tipperary. Yez don't mane a kreel, div ye?"
"Kreel! no. I'm 'peakin' 'bout de place we niggers live in,--village,
you white folk call 'um."
"A village! that is a town av people,--men, weemen, and childher."
"Jess so. Da be men, woman, and chillen in de kraal,--sartin to be
plenty of boaf de last,--an' dar am dogs, and sheeps, and goats, and
sometime big cattle. Dat's zactly what we brack folks ob de African
coass call de kraal. Some am bigger dan oders; but de one I 'peak
'bout, dat war surrounded by de snake, war a kraal ob de mod'rate size.
It had 'bout a hundred houses, and, ob coorse, it contain zackly hundred
families, excludin' de piccaninnies."
"A snake to extind round a hundherd houses! Whin was that?"
"When dis chile was a piccaninny hisself. If you like, Massa Tipprary,
I tell you all 'bout it. Ye see, dat de kraal I 'peak 'bout war my
native place, wha dis chile fust saw de shinin' ob de sun. I 'pose I
war 'bout ten year ole jess at dat time when de sacumstance 'curred ob
which I go tell you. Near de village dar war a big foress. It wa'
filled with all sorts ob dangerous beasts. Da wa' buffaloes and
elephants, an' de rhinoceros, an' hipperpotamusses, an' dar war big
monkeys ob de baboon 'pecies. These lass war partickler dangerous,
'pecially to de women ob de place, for if any ob de nigga gals strayed
too fur into de foress, den de baboons carried dem up into de tops ob de
highest trees, an' dere kep' dem prisoner fo' eber. But de wussest ting
in dat wood war de snakes. Da war ob all sorts an' sizes. Dere war de
cobera, berry benemous, dat killed you wif him bite, an' de spit snake
dat fo' pizen beat de cobera all holler, as it kud kill ye by jess
spittin' upon yer from among de branches ob a tree. An' da war de
whip-snake, dat lashed folks to deaph wif him tail; an' de rock-boa dat
twisted itself roun' you body an' crushed you to de jelly. But none ob
dese kud hold a candle to de great big snake ob all,--de one I tell you
'bout. Munday, he call dat we see, de spirit ob de waters. Our big
snake we nigga of Mozabeek call de _debbil ob de woods_. Nebba mind
'bout de name. He come one fine mornin', dis debbil come, while de
people ob de kraal war all 'sleep, dat is 'fore anybody get up to go
'bout dar bisness. He surroun' the village _twice_."
"You mane that he crawled twice round it?"
"Not a bit ob dat;--he may hab crawled twenty time roun' it: nobody
know. De people all 'sleep when he come. What dis chile mean is, dat
when de people get out ob dar beads, an' come to de door, de debbil ob
de woods, he hab him body all roun' de place in two great coil, one on
top ob de odder, like de cable 'board ship,--de two makin' a fence roun'
do kraal, more'n ten feet high."
"Saint Pathrick prasarve us!"
"Ah, Masser Tom, I tink I hear you say dat de San Parfick you 'peak
'bout was a great snake-killer in yur country. I wish he had been in de
island of Mozabeek on dat same mornin'. Pahps dis nigger might still
hab a fadder an' a modder. He loss dem boaf on de occasion we now 'peak
ob. You see de snake, after enclosin' de kraal twice roun' wif him
body, left enuf ob de neck to reach all ober de place; den stretchin'
out him mouf, dat war wide nuf to swaller a man 'ithout chewin' him, he
went from house to house, pickin' out de people, till der want one lef',
neider man, woman, nor chile. He eat up de chief ob de kraal jess de
same as de commonest scum ob de village. As fo' de piccaninnies, he
swallow dem eight or ten at a time, jess de same as we see de ant-eater
do wif de ants. Boaf de men an' de women an' de chillen try to 'scape
out ob de place. 'Twa'n't no manner ob use. When dey tried to climb
ober de body ob de snake, de ole debbil gub hisself a shake, an' down
dey slipped from him sides, as if him skin had been coated from de slush
cask. Ob course da wa' soon all destroyed."
"But yerself, Mozey; how did yez manage to 'scape?"
"Ah, how! dat wor de bess joke ob de whole. As I's been tellin' you, I
war at de time only a piccaninny, 'bout ten years ob de age. I war
considered 'bove de common for dat age, an' wa' employed in de house ob
de chief which war called de palace. Well, jess when I see dat great
big mouf sarchin' from place to place an' swallerin' up ebberybody, I
know it wan't no use to hide down dar among de houses. Now dar war a
big pole dat stood righ' in front ob de palace, wif a flag floatin' on
de top. When de odder folk war runnin' about ebbery wha else, I climbed
up de pole, an' when I got to de top, I drawed de flag roun' me, so as
to hide de whole ob my body. When dat 'ere debbil ob de woods had
finished off wif de oder people, and cleared out de kraal complete, he
nebber thought 'bout lookin' up de pole, or 'spectin' whether tha wa'
anybody wrop up in de flag at de top. Dis chile kep' up dar till he see
de snake 'tretch out him long body, an' go back to de big foress. Den I
slip down from de tree, an' make my way to de nearest place wha da war
people. As boaf my fadder and modder had been eat up 'long wi' de ress,
I atterwards left home an' tuk to de sea. Dat's why dis nigger hab
wandered all de way fom dat 'ere island ob Mozabeek. Buf! de snake we
see here, de spirit ob de water, a'n't no more to de debbil ob de woods
dan a tadpole am to de biggest alligator in all de waters ob de Amazum."
CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE.
SAINT PATRICK'S PERFORMANCE.
Notwithstanding the serious air with which Mozey told his very
improbable story, Tom did not appear to give implicit credence to it.
He evidently suspected that the rogue had been cheating him; and, after
several exclamations of wonder, but without betraying incredulity, he
sat in silence, apparently cogitating some scheme for repaying him. It
was not long before an opportunity offered, his companion
unintentionally furnishing him with a cue.
"I's hab heer, Massa Tum, dat dar am no snake in de country wha you come
from. Dat 'ere de troof?"
"Yis. Nayther snake nor toad in owld Oireland,--nayther could live for
a single hour, if ye plants them thare. The green island wudn't contain
thim bekase they're condimned to die the moment they sit fut on the
sod."
"But what condemn dem?"
"Saint Pathrick, to be shure. Trath, thare's a story about that. May
be yez wud loike to be afther hearin' it, Mozey?"
"Like um berry much, Massy Tum."
"Will, thin, I'll till it to yer. It isn't such a wondherful story as
yours; but it had a betther indin', as yer'll see when ye've heerd it.
Instid av the snakes killin' all the people exciptin' wan, the riptiles
got killed thimsilves, all but wan,--that was the father of ivry sirpint
in the world. He's livin' yit, an' must now be about five thousand
years uv age. So the praste sez.
"A long toime ago, owld Oireland was very badly infisted wid thim
craythers. They wur so thick all over the swate island, that yez cudn't
sit your fut down widout triddin' on wan av their tails; an' to kape out
av their way the people had to build a great scaffoldin' that extinded
all over the counthry, and slape on the threes, just as we've been doin'
over the gyapo.
"Whiniver they wanted anythin' to ate, such as purtaties, an' the loike,
they were compilled to git it up from the ground wid long forks; and
whin they wur in need to dhrink, they had to dip it up in buckets, as if
they were drawin' it out av a well.
"Av coorse this was moighty inconvanient, an' cudn't last long no how.
The worst ov it was, that the snakes, instid ov gettin' thinned off,
were ivery year growin' thicker, by razin ov their large families ov
young wuns. Will, it got so bad at last that ther' wusn't a spot av
groun' bigger than the bunch ov your hand that warn't occupoyed by a
snake, an' in some places they were two deep. The people up on the
platform that I towld yez about, they cursed an' swore, an' raged, an'
raved, an' at last prayed to be delivered from the inimy."
Here Tom paused to note the effect of his speech on his sable listener.
"But dey war delibbered,--wur dey?"
"Trath, wur they. If they hadn't, is it at all loikely that yer wud see
me here? Will, the people prayed. Not as your countrymen prays, to a
stick or a stone, or beloike to the sarpints themselves, that could do
them no benefit; but to a lady, that was able to protect them. We, in
owld Oireland, call her the Virgin Mary. She was the mother av Him that
came down from the siventh heaven to save us poor sinners. But what's
the use of my tryin' to explain all that to an ignorant haythen, loike
you?"
"No use, Massa Tum, no use," rejoined the African, in a tone of
resignation.
"Never moind, Mozey. The lady heerd their prayer, and that was an ind
to it."
"She killed da snakes!"