"If you are certain that they are friends, I will swim across," answered
Pacheco.
I assured him of this, and hastily wrote a note to Juan, begging him to
wait for me, and I would try to get across the river to join him.
Pacheco placed the note inside his hat, on the top of which he fastened
the short trousers and girdle he wore. He then cut two thick pieces of
bamboo, with a still larger piece pointed at both ends, and taking them
in his hand plunged into the water.
"Are you not afraid of the alligators?" asked Uncle Richard, under the
idea that those creatures frequented the stream.
"There are few above the rapids, and those only of small size," answered
Pacheco; "if one comes near me, he will feel the point of this bamboo."
Resting his chest on the stout pieces of cane, and striking out with his
hands and feet, he made rapid progress towards the opposite shore. At
length Juan saw him coming, and at the same time observed us waving,
though he might not have known who we were. He probably guessed,
however, that we were friends, and that the Indian was coming across to
speak to him, for he rode towards the spot where our guide was about to
land.
Pacheco gave Juan the note, and I saw him take a paper from his pocket
and write an answer, which he delivered to the Indian, who, without
stopping to rest, recrossed the river. Once I saw him give a dig with
his bamboo, but the object at which he aimed was not visible. It might
have been an alligator, or a water-snake, or a big fish; but it seemed
to concern him very little, for he again came towards us, and landed in
safety.