[Illustration: New cuts were made in the trees for the next day's
supply.
[_Page 136_
]
ADRIFT
ON THE AMAZON
BY
LEO E. MILLER
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1923
COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
Printed in the United States of America
[Illustration]
TO
ALL READERS
WHO HAVE A WHOLESOME LIKING
FOR STORIES
OF ADVENTURE AND THE GREAT OUTDOORS
PREFACE
The Amazon! Who has not been thrilled at the mere mention of the words?
For the name of the world’s mightiest river suggests not only vast
expanses of muddy water, but also the jungle-clad shores and wild
hinterland where nature seems to have run riot in the development of
strange and interesting vegetation and animal life, and of tribes of
savages but little known and less understood. There is romance and
adventure to be found in each mile of its yellow flood or gloomy
thickets. But to only a few is given the privilege of lifting the veil
of mystery that hangs over the Amazon country and of exploring its
hidden retreats.
“Adrift on the Amazon” is the story of a youth’s struggles against the
seemingly insurmountable difficulties that confronted the intrepid
wanderer into the Amazon wilderness.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. FIGHTING JONES 1
II. DAVID LEAVES HOME 13
III. THE AMAZON 21
IV. ROGER’S WORK 36
V. A CHANGE OF FORTUNE 51
VI. HARPOONING A RIVER MONSTER 64
VII. WHEN THE RIVER RAN RIOT 78
VIII. THE ROAD TO LAS PALMAS 91
IX. THE BEAST 104
X. THE ASCENT OF THE UPPER AMAZON 115
XI. IN THE RUBBER FOREST 128
XII. A BATTLE WITH A CROCODILE 140
XIII. ADRIFT IN THE FOREST 154
XIV. THE RESCUE FROM THE ANT ARMY 168
XV. THE CHARGE OF THE INDIANS 178
XVI. THE BATTLE IN THE JUNGLE 191
XVII. THE TERROR OF THE ISLAND 203
XVIII. WHEN THE WATER RAN HIGH 216
XIX. THE BROWN MEN OF THE JUNGLE 229
XX. THE DRIFTING ENDS 242
ILLUSTRATIONS
New cuts were made in the trees for the next day’s supply _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
A huge silvery form ... leaped out of the water, rolled
and wallowed convulsively, and sank from sight 74
He delivered thrust after thrust with his right at the vulnerable
neck and throat 150
Again facing toward the ... white men ... he grasped
the arrow in both hands, snapped the shaft in two ...
and threw the pieces into the river 232
ADRIFT
ON THE AMAZON
CHAPTER I
FIGHTING JONES
To David’s friends he was commonly known as “Fighting Jones”; but this
name carried nothing of discredit with it; for, though the title had
been earned by the not infrequent use of two good fists, the encounters
had always been occasioned by a righteous cause--in protection of
someone who was unable to defend his or her own interest.
The trouble was that the one higher up, the final authority as it were,
had always decided against him. Sometimes words of sympathy, even
approbation, had softened the rebuke that invariably followed each
altercation; but in the final summing up he had never escaped the
penalty.
David was downcast. It seemed as if the bottom had dropped out of
everything. And as he mentally reviewed the events of the past ten
minutes and speculated upon their consequences he knew that at last he
had reached the very end of his tether. He had arrived at the parting of
the ways; a break was plainly in sight; and at last he meant to assert
himself.
His determined nature began to show itself so long ago as David could
remember and probably before that. But he could recall the first
difficulty in the kindergarten when one of the older and larger boys
took advantage of his small size to deprive him of some cherished
plaything. He never forgot that fight, nor the punishment he received at
the hand of a stern father.
Later, years later, in high school, there had been the trouble when the
principal had rebuked Miss Palmer, the instructor in Latin, before the
whole class. The principal was a big, gruff man whose main attributes
were to look stern at all times in an effort to instill discipline and
to rejoice secretly when others showed signs of fear. He ruled by
intimidation. Miss Palmer was meek and frail and when the lordly Mr.
Davison assailed her she began to cry. That was too much for David. He
calmly arose and informed the surprised Mr. Davison that he would never
see any woman mistreated like that and if he did not stop at once and
apologize he would knock his block off. Several of his classmates now
came to his assistance. That precipitated a row. Result--David as
ringleader of the mutiny was dismissed. Discipline had to be maintained.
He worried through school and college somehow or other. Then was forced
into business by his father and tried hard to make good and was
progressing in a satisfactory, so he thought, if not brilliant manner
until----
Wellman, the chief engineer, was passing through the draughting room.
David, busy at his board, was not even aware of his presence until he
heard a muffled cough in back of him.
“Good morning, Mr. Wellman,” he said pleasantly, turning to greet his
chief.
“How are the plans coming along?” the latter said abruptly. “I want to
have the blue-prints struck off this afternoon.”
“They will be ready in an hour,” David returned. “I am just finishing
the terrace.”
“Let me see!” Wellman adjusted his tortoise shell spectacles. “What
scale?”
“Quarter inch.”
“What? Quarter inch?” One would have thought Wellman had been shot, the
way he roared. “Didn’t I tell you to make it half inch?”
“I am sorry. I must have misunderstood. I will do them over.”
“Impossible. The superintendent must have the blue-prints tonight.”
“That is impossible too. I cannot do two days’ work in a few hours and
do it right.”
“You’ll never know anything.” Wellman bellowed, while all the others in
the office turned to see and hear what was going on.
“Now, look here,” David interrupted. “There is no excuse for your acting
like that. You passed my table several times both yesterday and the day
before and it seems to me as if you should have noticed the mistake
then. Besides, I am sure you said quarter inch scale to begin with.”
“That’s right! that’s right! Blame it on me. You think you can do as you
please because your father is president of this concern.” The chief was
talking louder than ever.
“If it were not for your age I’d thrash you until you took that back.”
“Never mind my gray hair. Never mind my glasses; I’ll take them off.
Here I am. Go to it. You are a privileged person around here. Do
anything you like.”
Instead of replying, David threw down his drawing instruments and left
the room. He headed straight for his father’s office. Arrived there he
was told by a secretary to sit down in the ante-room; his father had
given orders not to admit him until he should ring for him.
So! He knew about it already! Wellman had forestalled him by using the
telephone. It was just as well that he had. His father would have the
chief’s version of the affair and be ready to hear the other side of it.
A buzzer sounded and the secretary nodded to him to enter.
For a moment the elder Jones did not notice him. Then he turned abruptly
in his chair and faced his son.
“What have you got to say?” he asked, not unkindly and rather sadly.
“Wellman told you what happened, I suppose.”
“Yes. He just called up. I want to hear your side of the matter.”
David gave an accurate account of the occurrence from beginning to end,
while his father listened resignedly.
“Wellman is an old and valued employe, but I think this time he went
too far. Disregarding the fact that you are my son, I am inclined to
believe that you were not at fault--in fact, I am rather proud of the
way you handled the situation. Still, that does not settle the issue.
That office is too small for you and Wellman; so Wellman will have to
go.”
David could not believe his ears and for a moment he was speechless.
“You don’t mean that you are going to fire him?” he asked finally.
“Yes. He went too far. The two of you would always be at odds after this
and it would demoralize the whole department. I am sorry, but Wellman
will receive his notice today.”
“I don’t want to see him lose his job. He is old and would have a hard
time to find another. Why not keep him and let me out?”
“Because I want you to learn this business thoroughly; you may be called
upon to take my place some day. You are just starting life. Your welfare
is my first consideration.”
David saw his chance at last.
“If that is true,” he quickly interposed, “don’t start me on the wrong
track. I do not want to stay in this business. I hate it. I tried to
make good only to please you. If you are really thinking of my welfare,
let me pick out my own work.”
“What is wrong with this? It offers most unusual opportunities for great
and lasting success.”
“I know, but somehow or other I don’t seem to fit in. I dislike the city
and all business. I want to go away where there is room to expand and
to learn big things of another kind.”
“Remember the possibilities I just mentioned. You might some day erect a
building taller than any of today or build a cathedral that would be a
monument to your genius.”
“I would rather plow with a tractor and sow wheat; or herd cattle; or
raise pigs than build anything no matter how great. I could put my whole
heart and soul into that work and enjoy it. I want space to do my
thinking and to develop in. I want green grass under my feet and a blue
sky overhead. It is too crowded here. There are just as big things to be
done in one place as in another.”
“Good gracious! Who put all that into your head? Or did you read it in
some book?”
“It has just been growing on me and with me. I must get away from here.
Let me work out my own future.”
“Suppose I should refuse to listen any further.”
“Then I am afraid I should go anyway, not right now, perhaps, but at
some future time. The thought of all this is bigger than I am, and some
day, soon, it would get the better of me and I should be compelled to
go.”
“Well, well!” His father was obviously worried. “So you have made up
your mind. You refuse to go back to your work here?”
“I should rather not. And, let Wellman stay.”
“I’ll see. Now you go straight home and wait for me there. This thing
will have to be settled one way or the other.”
As David left the building his mind was filled with so many things that
it was impossible to think clearly on any one of them. Two things kept
recurring to him, however, because they had been so unexpected. The
first was that his father had taken sides with him in the controversy,
had admitted that he was right and that Wellman was in the wrong; he had
even gone so far as to volunteer to discharge the old and valued
employe. And the second was that for the first time his parent had
indicated a willingness to seriously listen to the thing he felt best
suited him and for which he was eager to sacrifice his enviable
prospects as a man of the business world.
He could hardly wait to tell his mother. She had always been a
sympathetic listener and while she had never greatly encouraged him in
his ambition she had never discouraged him.
It was, therefore, a source of disappointment to him to find upon
reaching home that his mother was not there. She had an appointment for
luncheon, the cook informed him, and would go to a club meeting after
that. It was impossible to draw any further information from the cook.
David suspected that she knew more, but to his casual remark that she
must have decided rather suddenly to go, there came no response.
Evidently the cook had orders not to talk, so he did not question her
further.
The afternoon seemed like a year. He tried to read a magazine; then a
book, but after turning a few pages he was forced to admit that he did
not know what he was reading about, so he closed it with a bang and
calling Spike, his terrier, went for a walk in the garden.
David had just passed his twenty-first year. He was tall, of athletic
build, with dark hair and eyes. There was the look of determination in
his face that caused others instinctively to respect him. And his
regular, pleasant features bespoke intelligence and breeding. If his
natural bent could only be diverted into the proper channel, there was
no question but that inborn ability and determination would make
themselves felt, and in no uncertain manner.
His father and mother returned just in time for dinner. That there was
anything unusual about this did not occur to David for, often when his
mother chanced to be in the vicinity of the office in the late afternoon
she dropped in and the two motored home together.
The conversation during the meal was a conventional one. It was not
until later when the three were together in the library that the subject
uppermost in David’s mind was broached.
“I have been talking this thing over with your mother,” his father began
abruptly. “There is but one thing in our minds. Regardless of how we
feel about it personally, we must consent to the course that seems best
for your own good.”
David said nothing, but looked expectantly at his mother.
“Are you sure, David?” she asked in a low voice. “Is your mind made up
definitely? Is there not the least possibility that you may want to
reconsider? Remember you are young. A mistake may mean the loss of
years, perhaps, that will never return. Here you have rare opportunities
to make both name and fortune. It would be well to think of these things
and to try to picture what it will mean to you to give up a certainty
for an uncertainty, for you know very little about the course you are
favoring.”
“I have thought of all that,” he said uncomfortably, “and I wish I could
feel differently, for your sake. But I just can’t help it. I have always
wanted to be out in the open where there is room to see and do things.”
For a moment nothing was said.
“Well,” his father finally ventured with a sigh, “then there is nothing
for us to do but to give you the chance you think we owe you. Be sure
that you are sure. Take a few weeks to think it over in. But you must
promise one thing. If we let you go and you don’t make good or find out
that you were mistaken after all, you will come back to the office and
buckle down to hard work and never mention the subject again.”
“I don’t need the time; my mind is made up now. And, I promise; but I
will get along all right and in the end you will be glad you let me try
it.”
They insisted on the time for reflection, however, and during the two
weeks that followed no mention was made of the matter. David did not go
back to the office; he spent the days, and parts of the nights, too, in
reading books on agriculture. These consisted mainly of government
publications, long possessed and secretly cherished. He had read them so
often that he was sure he knew all about farming and ranching; in fact,
when he should use all this information together with some ideas of his
own that he had worked out, he should greatly improve if not
revolutionize the whole farming and ranching business.
When the two weeks had expired there was another council in the library.
“What is the verdict?” his father asked. “Will you go or will you stay?”
“I want to go just as soon as possible.”
“Have you considered the matter fully from all angles?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And you still feel that your calling is out in the country?”
“Be absolutely sure of yourself before you answer,” his mother
cautioned.
“I am sure. I feel that when I get away from the noise and hurry and
confinement of the city I can accomplish more in a week than I could
here in a year.”
“And, if after trying it you find that you have been mistaken?”
“I shall come back at once and do exactly as I promised.”
“That settles it. You shall have your chance and it will be a rare one
even though you cannot realize at what cost to us.” He shot a quick
glance at his wife; her eyes were glistening.
“The fact that we have known of your ambition for a long time does not
make it easier for us, for you will be far, far away. That alone will
give you the opportunity to show your mettle. I think it best that it
should be so, for you will be thrown entirely upon your own resources.
Either you will become discouraged quickly and come back ready to take
our advice, or you will do big things.”
“Where?” David asked in an awed voice. “Where am I going?”
“To South America, because there real opportunities exist for the right
man.”
“South America?”
“Yes. Dan Rice, a former client of mine, has a ranch in the Argentine.
He went down fifteen years ago. He was a born stock man and made a huge
success of the venture. I enquired about him and learned that he is
opening a new place in Brazil, somewhere in the Upper Amazon country,
above the city called Manaos. I shall send you to him. If ever there was
a person who could judge men and get the best out of them, Rice is the
one. What do you say?”
“I don’t know what to say except to thank both of you for letting me go.
It is better than I even dreamed of. It will be wonderful!”
“Good! I only hope you will not be too greatly disappointed when you get
there.”
They continued the discussion far into the night; but the thing the
elder Jones did not tell his son was that he had already sent cablegrams
to Rice in Manaos in an attempt to make arrangements for his coming. A
very short time in the steaming and insect-infested tropics would be
sufficient to cause a change of heart, he felt sure. The fact that he
was in a wild country thousands of miles away from home and among
strangers would hasten it and make it more emphatic. And, once his
illusions were dispelled, David would be ready to settle down and do as
he was told.
As for David, he was too elated for words. “I am going at last,” he kept
repeating to himself. “My luck has changed! My luck has changed!”
But David was quite forgetful of the fact that there are two kinds of
luck, good and bad; and that the former seldom lasts long, while the
latter is inclined to linger with a most disheartening persistency, and
then grow worse.