A CHANGE OF FORTUNE
David felt sure that he was the most luckless of all persons. So far,
about everything had gone wrong. But there must be a turning-point
somewhere. It was strange how a single misunderstanding could cause so
much confusion.
To make matters worse, regardless of what happened he had to accept the
situation in apparent good humor, for he dared not assert himself too
strongly. If there had been trouble, he would have been blamed, fairly
or unfairly; that had been, almost invariably, his experience. Rather
than take a single chance at spoiling this opportunity of a lifetime he
would suffer in silence. But when the day came, as it surely would, when
he had won his spurs, he would demonstrate that he could direct affairs
as well as obey the orders of others.
He had wanted to thrash Rogers; and the American Consul should at least
have been told that his duties did not include meddling in other
people’s business. As for the gruff captain of the _Aguila_--he should
receive his dues when the time came; Mr. Rice would of course make him
regret his rude conduct toward his guest.
When David reached his hotel his indignation was still at the boiling
point. He must relieve his mind to someone and that person,
unfortunately, was the owner of the hotel, for he happened to be the
first one he chanced to meet.
He told him the whole episode from beginning to end omitting none of the
details. The man listened attentively until the recital was finished.
Then he grunted, with an amused expression on his face.
“Hum! I think he did right in not taking you. His orders were clear.”
“Yes, but how about the letter? He said he was leaving in two hours and
then went in half an hour.”
“There may have been a reason for the change. If you knew his boss you
would not blame him for being careful. Las Palmas is a notorious place.
Everyone who can, avoids it. Those who are there are slaves--they are
afraid to leave. Rice has the reputation of being the worst character in
the country.”
“That’s very interesting,” David retorted. “I am very glad to hear it
because I had the idea that all ranch life had become tame and
commonplace. It will be great to see a real place--I can hardly wait to
get there.”
“And how are you going to get there?” the Brazilian asked with a smile.
“That is the question just now; but, once there, I guess I can look out
for myself.”
“You can’t walk. It is many, many kilometers away. And the ranch boats,
you say, will not be back in a long time.”
“Right! Still, I will find a way.”
“Let me assure you that you will not. Now listen. You do not know how
lucky you are to have escaped that outfit at Las Palmas----”
“And next,” David interrupted, “you will be saying that there is a boat
out of here for New York soon and I had better take it.”
The hotel man looked sheepish.
“I thought so,” David continued. “Save yourself any further trouble on
my account. You take care of your business and I’ll tend mine. Please
remember that.”
Leaving the astonished Brazilian he went to his room and spent the
greater part of an hour looking out of the window at the little plaza
across the street and--thinking.
“I can’t stay here any longer,” he finally concluded. “If I do I’ll get
into a fight and I don’t want to fight. I’ll have to watch my step.”
He packed his belongings, slowly and without paying a great deal of
attention to just what he was doing. When he entered the office and
asked for his statement the owner of the hotel appeared grieved.
“Why are you leaving now?” he asked. “The boat does not leave until
tomorrow.”
David gritted his teeth but smiled.
“I know it. But I am sailing out of here right now. How much is it? I am
in a hurry.”
A moment later he stepped out into the street and turned in the opposite
direction to which he intended going, knowing that inquisitive eyes were
following him. A few blocks away he entered a side street and then came
back toward the center of the city. He found one of the smaller inns and
secured a room without arousing comment. Now he felt more free to pursue
the plan he had formed for, unknown and among disinterested persons, he
was more apt to get the help and information he needed. Or at least
there would be no interference.
He made no inquiries until late the following morning. Haste or a show
of too great eagerness might arouse suspicion. And then, after artfully
swinging the conversation he had started with the clerk to hunting and
to big game, he casually inquired if it would be possible to hire a
launch or boat of any kind for a trip up the river.
Much to his delight he was told that such a thing could be arranged
without trouble. There were numerous craft leaving the port daily that
would drop him at any of the little colonies or camps situated along the
river bank. The clerk even gave him the names of several persons with
whom arrangements could be made for such an outing.
To David the future seemed decidedly brighter and not long after he
sought the first man on his list. After locating the man--the keeper of
a small shop on the Rua Amazonas, and making a trivial purchase, he
remarked that he might find it necessary to make a short journey on the
river and was looking for a launch he could hire by the hour or day.
The Brazilian was quick to grasp the opportunity.
“My boat is at the disposal of the Senhor,” he said. “It is a good
boat, very seaworthy, and does not pitch or roll badly; that is
important, for the river is so enormous and storms come up suddenly.
Where do you want to go?”
“How much, by the day?” David countered.
“Sixty milreis. I will go with you and run the launch myself.”
David hesitated for a moment, as if pondering the proposition. Sixty
milreis equalled twelve dollars.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “your price is pretty high but if the boat
is extra good I guess I will take it. I want to start tomorrow.”
“How far do you want to go? I must know on account of the provisions.”
“How far can you go in one day?”
“Eighty or a hundred kilometers.”
“We can make it in a day then.”
“I shall be ready tomorrow, at any time you say,” the Brazilian said
with finality.
David could have shouted for joy. At last he had found the way.
“I think an early start is best, don’t you?” he said as calmly as he
could. “Six o’clock will be all right. So get everything ready today and
then there will be no delays in the morning.”
“Very good. Now, exactly where do you want to go?”
Dark clouds again appeared on David’s horizon.
“To one of the ranches along the river,” he replied quickly.
“Yes, but just where? There are several and how will I know which one is
the right one?”
“It makes no difference, as I am paying by the day. If it takes a little
over one day I will pay you for two whole days.”
“That part of it is all right. But I am compelled to make out papers for
the port officials when I carry passengers.”
“Make them when you get back. Then you will know just what to say.” The
situation was desperate for David.
“I could do that,” he said thoughtfully, and again David felt elated.
But after a moment the Brazilian continued, “There is only one place on
the whole river to which I can take no one.”
“What place is that?” with bated breath.
“Las Palmas. That is the one ranch where a landing is forbidden.”
“Why? That is the very spot I am bound for.”
“I am sorry, but as I said, I cannot take you there. The owner is a
foreigner. He is very terrible,” the Brazilian explained. “Nobody dares
stop there without a written permit. It is all very mysterious and you
should hear the tales that are told about the happenings at Las Palmas.”
David tried to laugh; he felt more like crying.
“It is different in my case,” he stammered. “I am expected there.
Arrangements were made by cable for them to meet me here but there was
some misunderstanding about the date. You will be taking no chances.”
“You do not know that outfit or you would not talk like that. I will not
go.”
“I will give you twice your regular price.”
“Not for a million milreis! What good would they do me after I was full
of bullets or poisoned arrows?” The shop-keeper was firm.
“Are they really so bad as all that?” David asked incredulously.
“Worse. Much worse. Once the government threatened to send soldiers
there to investigate things and they sent back word to come on with the
whole army but to bid it good-bye first for they would never see any
part of it again. So you see what kind of people you are dealing with.”
“All right,” David assumed an indifferent air. “If you don’t want my
money there are others who do.”
“Yes, Senhor. They are welcome to it.”
Seeing that argument was useless, David took his departure and went to
the second man on his list.
The negotiations proceeded smoothly as before until it became necessary
to disclose his destination. Then the Brazilian absolutely refused to go
any further with the matter. Nor could he be swayed from his
determination. He would go anywhere, even to Santa Isabel or the
Cassiquiare that connects the Rio Negro with the Orinoco--trips of many
weeks’ duration. But to Las Palmas? “Never!” most emphatically.
David was more crestfallen than ever as he went in search of the third
man. “There is something very mysterious about all this,” he thought.
“If it is really such an awful place I had better keep away from it.
But I have to see it first. I can leave if I don’t like it--that is, if
I ever get there.”
The interview with launch owner number three was shorter than the other
two. This man was gruff, even discourteous, and wanted to know first of
all where he wanted to go. And when David told him, he simply shrugged
his shoulders, said “No,” and walked away.
There were still others to be seen, but David decided that he had had
enough for one day. He walked to the river and looked across the broad
expanse of water, ruffled by the breeze, muddy, and gliding along
majestically and silently as if fully aware of its awe-inspiring
grandeur and power. Where did all that water come from? Where was it
going? What secrets were locked up in the pitiless flood? What strange
and unknown denizens lurked in its dark depths? And, what treasures were
strewn upon the bottom of the bed over which this torrent rushed,
heedlessly, relentlessly and everlastingly? Day and night, rain or
shine--it was always the same, oblivious to all things save only the
fulfilment of some mission on which it was always hurrying, hurrying,
yet seemed never to accomplish. Men might come and go--all men might
come and go--but what of it? Countless numbers had done that very thing
along its unreckoned shores and not a few of them had been engulfed in
the heartless waters. Thousands of years old, it was nevertheless young.
When other ages had passed there would be still no traces of age or
decay. Always the same--always the same.
Such were the thoughts that surged through David’s mind as he gazed at
the wide river, with the tiny waves laving his feet. They gave him an
uncomfortable feeling such as he had not experienced before. He admired
the stream for its enormity and respected its untold might; but he was
not so sure that he liked it.
Numbers of dugouts, _batalaos_ and other craft were tied up along the
bank. The idea came to him suddenly. If he could not hire a launch, why
not take one of these? The trip would require more time and be less
comfortable, but these things would be minor considerations.
He approached a group of men near one of the batalaos and asked guarded
questions as to the uses to which it was put. And then he swung the
conversation to navigation in general on the river; to the country
bordering the stream and to kindred topics, and so secured a good deal
of information that was of value to him.
He learned, for instance, that the craft was sea-worthy and was used on
the longest journeys, frequently of months’ duration. That travelling in
a batalao was a slow process unless the wind held out when sails were
used to advantage; during the intervals of calm, oars or poles were used
and even long-handled hooks to catch in the overhanging vegetation. Last
of all, in answer to his question as to whether he could rent or buy
such a craft, he was told that it was probably impossible to do either.
All of them were owned by the proprietors of rubber concessions or
similar ventures, and were employed in their service exclusively,
excepting only a few in the possession of professional rivermen; these
latter were usually under contract to some _patron_ and were engaged in
some private pursuit such as fishing or freighting, which they could not
desert.
That was the last straw. As David walked away he began to believe that
he should never reach Las Palmas.
“Luck is certainly against me,” he murmured. “I’ll flip a coin to see
what I’ll do. If it’s heads I will stay and keep on trying and if it’s
tails I’ll--I’ll stay anyway. There must be a way of getting to that
place; but I haven’t thought of it. The way will come to me--if I wait
long enough.”
And come it did, sooner than he expected. The very next day the
opportunity presented itself in the guise of a very large batalao that
swept down the river, manned by twenty swarthy oarsmen, and joined the
collection of other boats at the landing.
Somehow, that outfit was different from the others. The men did not look
like the sailors along the waterfront. They spoke a different language
and the Brazilians on shore did not greet them with the usual cries and
banterings.
David was interested in the new arrivals at once. “The way to find out
things is to ask questions,” he thought. “I will find out about them.”
He did not go to the man in charge of the batalao, but to one of the
Brazilians to whom he had spoken on several other occasions.
The boat had come from Venezuela, he learned, by way of the Cassiquiare
that connects the Orinoco with the Rio Negro of the Amazon side. The men
were Venezuelans and were traders who plied their calling along the
great rivers, visiting all the settlements and even the solitary huts,
buying native produce and selling provisions, dry goods, hardware and
ammunition. They travelled in a leisurely manner and knew more about the
rivers and their navigation than any other persons. With them, time was
no object and only when their stock of goods was on the verge of
exhaustion, or when they had accumulated a cargo of native products to
sell, did they make for the nearest market and base of supply. That was
why they had come to Manaos now--to dispose of vanilla beans, copaiba
oil, gold nuggets and a number of other things and to replenish their
supply of trading articles; for now they were going to the rubber camps
of the Upper Amazon, this being the season of harvest of that product.
To accomplish the double object of their visit would require at least a
week, probably two.
Much to his delight, David found that the pilot of the new boat had a
fair knowledge of the Portuguese language--better than his own, in
fact--and he struck up an acquaintance with him at once; but he did not
hurry matters. There was plenty of time to cultivate friendship, and
haste might cause him to be suspected of some ulterior motive.
David called at the wharf daily and finally the captain accepted his
invitation and returned the visits, even remaining to dinner at the inn.
They attended a performance at the Teatro Nacional later and then were
firm friends.
When the craft was about ready to depart, ten days later, David suddenly
announced to Don Marco, for that was the captain’s name, that he would
accompany him on the trip up the river. The latter was at first
surprised and then amused; it seemed a joke; but when David insisted
that he was in earnest he was pleased. Only one thing puzzled him; he
was not equipped to carry passengers. The crew ate almost anything,
slept anywhere and shifted for itself.
David assured Don Marco that he should be contented with the same
conditions. He expected no special consideration. He would even help
with the work if desirable and would go as one of the party.
“If you will do that,” the captain said at last, “I shall certainly be
glad to have you. But how will you get back? We may not touch at Manaos
again for a year, perhaps longer.”
“That will be all right,” David replied. “You will stop at all the
settlements and ranches----”
“Yes. We miss none of them.”
“Then I can stop off at one of them when I have seen enough of the
river. It may be in a few days or it may be longer, according to how
fast we travel.”
“Splendid. Get your things together and I will send a _mozo_ for them
this afternoon. You will need a hammock, a mosquito net, and a blanket.
Take anything else you want to.”
David hurried away and purchased the necessary articles. In addition,
he also bought chocolate and a few other things he thought would be
necessary.
For him the tide had turned. For once he was without misgivings. At last
he was about to embark on the great river; it was the beginning of a
long voyage, but he was eager to entrust himself to the whims of the
mighty stream to be wafted wherever fate decreed--as a chip drifts and
eddies in obedience to the unseen forces that control its destiny.