Martin Rattler, R. M. Ballantyne [e book reader android txt] 📗

dry season, and on rafts in the wet They subsist on turtle, cow-fish, and the other fish with which the river abounds, and live almost entirely in their canoes; while at night they frequently sling their hammocks between the branches of trees and sleep suspended over the deep water.

Some of the animals found in the Gapo are peculiar to it, being attracted by the fruit-trees which are found growing only there. The Indians assert that every tree that grows in the Gapo is distinct from all those that grow in other districts; and when we consider that these trees are submerged for six months every year, till they are tall enough to rise above the highest water-level, we may well believe their constitution is somewhat different from those that are reared on ordinary ground. The Indians are wonderfully expert in finding their way among the trackless mazes of the Gapo, being guided by the broken twigs and scraped bark that indicate the route followed by previous travellers.

Owing to this sudden commencement of the rainy season, the old trader resolved to return to a small village and there spend several months. Martin and Barney were much annoyed at this; for the former was impatient to penetrate further into the interior, and the latter had firmly made up his mind to visit the diamond mines, about which he entertained the most extravagant notions. He did not, indeed, know in the least how to get to these mines, nor even in which direction they lay; but he had a strong impression that as long as he continued travelling he was approaching gradually nearer to them, and he had no doubt whatever that he would get to them at last. It was, therefore, with no small degree of impatience that they awaited the pleasure of their sable master, who explained to them that when the waters reached their height he would proceed.

Everything comes to an end, even a long story. After many weeks had passed slowly by, their sojourn in this village came to an end too. It was a dull place, very dull, and they had nothing to do; and the few poor people who lived there seemed to have very little or nothing to do. We will, therefore, pass it over, and resume our narrative at the point when the old trader announced to Barney that the flood was at its height and they would now continue their journey. They embarked once more in their old canoe with their goods and chattels, not forgetting Marmoset and Grampus, whose friendship during their inactive life had become more close than ever. This friendship was evidenced chiefly by the matter-of-course way in which Grampus permitted the monkey to mount his back and ride about the village and through the woods, where dry places could be found, as long as she pleased. Marmoset was fonder of riding than walking, so that Grampus had enough to do; but he did not put himself much about. He trotted, walked, galloped, and lay down, when, and where, and as often as he chose, without any reference to the small monkey; and Marmoset held on through thick and thin, and nibbled nuts or whatever else it picked up, utterly regardless of where it was going to or the pace at which it went. It was sharp, though, that small monkey, sharp as a needle, and had its little black eyes glancing on all sides; so that when Grampus dashed through underwood, and the branches threatened to sweep it off, it ducked its head; or, lying flat down, shut its eyes and held on with all its teeth and four hands like a limpet to a rock. Marmoset was not careful as to her attitude on dog-back. She sat with her face to the front or rear, just as her fancy or convenience dictated.

After leaving the village they travelled for many days and nights through the Gapo. Although afloat on the waters of the Amazon, they never entered the main river after the first few days, but wound their way, in a creeping, serpentine sort of fashion, through small streams and lakes and swamps, from which the light was partially excluded by the thick foliage of the forest. It was a strange scene that illimitable watery waste, and aroused new sensations in the breasts of our travellers. As Barney said, it made him "feel quite solemn-like and eerie to travel through the woods by wather."

The canoe was forced under branches and among dense bushes, till they got into a part where the trees were loftier and a deep gloom prevailed. Here the lowest branches were on a level with the surface of the water, and many of them were putting forth beautiful flowers. On one occasion they came to a grove of small palms, which were so deep in the water that the leaves were only a few feet above the surface. Indeed they were so low that one of them caught Martin's straw-hat and swept it overboard.

"Hallo! stop!" cried Martin, interrupting the silence so suddenly that Grampus sprang up with a growl, under the impression that game was in view; and Marmoset scampered off behind a packing-box with an angry shriek.

"What's wrong, lad?" inquired Barney.

"Back water, quick! my hat's overboard, and there's an alligator going to snap it up. Look alive, man!"

In a few seconds the canoe was backed and the straw-hat rescued from its perilous position.

"It's an ill wind that blows nae guid, as the Scotch say," remarked Barney, rising in the canoe and reaching towards something among the overhanging branches. "Here's wan o' them trees that old black-face calls a maraja, with some splendid bunches o' fruit on it. Hould yer hat, Martin; there's more nor enough for supper anyhow,"

As he spoke a rustling in the leaves told that monkeys were watching us, and Marmoset kept peeping up as if she half expected they might be relations. But the moment the travellers caught sight of them they bounded away screaming.

Having gathered as much fruit as they required, they continued their voyage, and presently emerged into the pleasant sunshine in a large grassy lake, which was filled with lilies and beautiful water-plants, little yellow bladder-worts, with several other plants of which they knew not the names; especially one with a thick swollen stalk, curious leaves, and bright blue flowers. This lake was soon passed, and they again entered into the gloomy forest, and paddled among the lofty trunks of the trees, which rose like massive columns out of the deep water. There was enough of animal life there, however, to amuse and interest them. The constant plash of falling fruit showed that birds were feeding overhead. Sometimes a flock of parrots or bright blue chatterers swept from tree to tree, or atrogon swooped at a falling bunch of fruit and caught it ere it reached the water; while ungainly toucans plumped clumsily down upon the branches, and sat, in striking contrast, beside the lovely pompadours, with their claret-coloured plumage and delicate white wings.

Vieing with these birds in splendour were several large bright-yellow flowers of the creeping-plants, which twined round the trees. Some of these plants had white, spotted, and purple blossoms; and there was one splendid species, called by the natives the flor de Santa Anna—the flower of St. Ann—which emitted a delightful odour and was four inches in diameter.

Having traversed this part of the wood, they once more emerged upon the main stream of the Amazon. It was covered with water-fowl. Large logs of trees and numerous floating islands of grass were sailing down; and on these sat hundreds of white gulls, demurely and comfortably voyaging to the ocean; for the sea would be their final resting-place if they sat on these logs and islands until they descended several hundreds of miles of the great river.

"I wish," said Martin, after a long silence, during which the travellers had been gazing on the watery waste as they paddled up stream—"I wish that we could fall in with solid land, where we might have something cooked. I'm desperately hungry now; but I don't see a spot of earth large enough for a mosquito to rest his foot on."

"We'll jist have to take to farhina and wather," remarked Barney, laying down his paddle and proceeding leisurely to light his pipe. "It's a blissin' we've got baccy, any how. Tis mesilf that could niver git on without it."

"I wish you joy of it, Barney. It may fill your mouth, but it can't stop your hunger."

"Och, boy, it's little ye know! Sure it stops the cravin's o' hunger, and kapes yer stumick from callin' out for iver, till ye fall in with somethin' to ate."

"It does not seem to stop the mouth then, Barney, for you call out for grub oftener than I do; and then you say that you couldn't get on without it; so you're a slave to it, old boy. I wouldn't be a slave to anything if I could help it."

"Martin, lad, ye're gittin' deep. Take care now, or ye'll be in mettlefeesics soon. I say, ould black-face,"—Barney was not on ceremony with the old trader,—"is there no land in thim parts at all?"

"No, not dis night,"

"Och, then, we'll have to git up a tree and try to cook somethin' there; for I'm not goin' to work on flour and wather. Hallo! hould on! There's an island, or the portrait o' wan! Port your helm, Naygur! hard aport! D'ye hear?"

The old man heard, but, as usual, paid no attention to the Irishman's remarks; and the canoe would have passed straight on, had not Barney used his bow-paddle so energetically that he managed to steer her, as he expressed it, by the nose, and ran her against a mass of floating logs which had caught firmly in a thicket, and were so covered with grass and broken twigs as to have very much the appearance of a real island. Here they landed, so to speak, kindled a small fire, made some coffee, roasted a few fish, baked several cakes, and were soon as happy and comfortable as hungry and wearied men usually are when they obtain rest and food.

"This is what I call jolly," remarked Barney.

"What's jolly?" inquired Martin.

"Why this, to be sure,—grub to begin with, and a smoke and a convanient snooze in prospect,"

The hopes which Barney cherished, however, were destined to be blighted, at least in part. To the victuals he did ample justice; the pipe was delightful, and in good working order; but when they lay down to repose, they were attacked by swarms of stinging ants, which the heat of the fire had driven out of the old logs. These and mosquitoes effectually banished sleep from their eye-lids, and caused them to reflect very seriously, and to state to each other more than once very impressively, that, with all their beauties and wonders, tropical lands had their disadvantages, and there was no place like the "ould country," after all.

CHAPTER XVIII THE SAD AND MOMENTOUS ERA REFERRED TO AT THE CLOSE OF THE CHAPTER PRECEDING THE LAST

One sultry evening, many weeks after our travellers had passed the uncomfortable night on the floating island in the Gapo, they came to a place where the banks of the river rose boldly up in rugged rocks and hemmed in the waters of the Amazon, which were by this time somewhat abated. Here they put ashore, intending to kindle their fire and encamp for the night, having been up and hard at work since daybreak.

The evening was calm and beautiful, and the troublesome insects not so numerous as usual,—probably owing to the nature of the ground. One or two monkeys showed themselves for a moment, as if to enquire who was there, and then ran away screaming; a porcupine also crossed their path, and several small bright snakes, of a harmless species, glided over the rocks, and sought refuge among the small bushes; but beyond these there were few of the sights and sounds that were wont to greet them in the forest.

"I think things look well to-night," remarked Martin as he threw down a bundle of sticks which he had gathered for the fire; "we shall have a comfortable snooze for certain, if the mosquitoes don't wake up."

"I'm not so sure of that," replied Barney, striking a light with flint and steel and stooping to puff the smouldering spark into a flame. "I've larned by exparience that ye niver can be—puff—sure o' nothin' in this—puff—remarkable country. Jist look at Darkey now," continued the Irishman, sitting down on a stone before the fire, which now began to kindle up, and stuffing the tobacco into his pipe with his little finger. "There