CHAPTER XVIII-AS IF STRUCK BY A DUM-DUM BULLET
Roland and Dick walked quickly towards the camp.
It was all a scene of bustle and stir indescribable, for good news as well as bad travels apace.
"Bill and the boats are coming!" Englishmen wereshouting.
"Beel and de boats!" chorused the Indians.
But on the approach of "the young captains", as theboys were called, comparative peace was restored.
"Had anyone seen Mr. Peter?" was the first questionput by our heroes to their white officers. "No," from all.
"He had disappeared for a few moments in histent," said an Indian, "then der was no more MassaPeter."
Scouts and armed runners were now speedily gottogether, and Roland gave them orders. They wereto search the bush and forest, making a long detouror outflanking movement, then closing round acentre, as if in battue, to allow not a tree to gounexamined.
This was all that could be done.
So our heroes retraced their steps towards the riverbank, where, lo! they beheld a whole fleet of strangecanoes, big and small, being rowed swiftly towards them.
In the bows of the biggest-a twelve-tonner-stoodBurly Bill himself.
He was blacker with the sun than ever, and wildlywaving the broadest kind of Panama hat ever seen onthe Madeira. But in his left hand he clutched hismeerschaum, and such clouds was he blowing that onemight have mistaken the great canoe for a steam-launch.
He jumped on shore as soon as the prow touchedthe bank-the water here being deep.
Black though Burly Bill was, his smile was sopleasant, and his face so good-natured, that everybodywho looked at him felt at once on excellent terms withhimself and with all created things.
"I suppose I ought to apologize, Mr. Roland, for thedelay-I-"
"And I suppose," interrupted Roland, "you oughtto do nothing of the kind. Dinner is all ready, Bill; come and eat first. Put guards in your boats, andmarch along. Your boys will be fed immediately."
It was a splendid dinner.
Burly Bill, who was more emphatic than choice inEnglish, called it a tiptopper, and all hands in Roland'sspacious tent did ample justice to it.
Roland even spliced the main-brace, as far as Billwas concerned, by opening a bottle of choice port.
The boys themselves merely sipped a little. Whatneed have lads under twenty for vinous stimulants?
Bill's story was a long one, but I shall not repeat it.He had encountered the greatest difficulty imaginablein procuring the sort of boats he needed.
"But," he added, "all's well that end's well, I guess, and we'll start soon now, I suppose, for the rapids ofAntonio."
"Yes," said Roland, "we'll strike camp possiblyto-morrow; but we must do as much loading up aspossible to-night."
"That's the style," said Bill. "We've got to makehaste. Only we've got to think! 'Haste but nothurry', that's my motto.
"But I say," he continued, "I miss two friends-whereis Mr. Peter and where is Brawn?"
"Peter has taken French leave, I fear, and Brawn, where is Brawn, Dick?"
"I really did not miss either till now," answeredDick, "but let us continue to be fair to Mr. Peter- Listen!"
At that moment shouting was heard far down the forest.
The noise came nearer and nearer, and our heroeswaited patiently.
In five minutes' time into the tent bounded the greatwolf-hound, gasping but laughing all down both sides, and with about a foot of pink tongue-more orless-hanging out at one side, over his alabaster teeth.
He quickly licked Roland's ears and Dick's, thenuttered one joyous bark and made straight for Burly Bill.
Yes, Bill was burly, but Brawn fairly rolled himover and nearly smothered him with canine caresses.Then he took a leap back to the boys as much as to say:
"Why don't you rejoice too? Wouff-wouff! Aren'tyou glad that Bill has returned? Wouff! Whatwould life be worth anyhow without Bill?Wouff-wouff-wow!"
But the last wow ended in a low growl, as Peterhimself stood smiling at the opening.
"Why, Mr. Peter, we thought you were lost!" cried Dick.
Mr. Peter walked up to Bill and shook hands.
"Glad indeed to see you back," he said nonchalantly,"and you're not looking a bit paler. Any chance of amorsel to eat?"
"Sit down," cried Dick. "Steward!"
"Yes, sah; to be surely, sah. Dinner foh MassaPeter? One moment, sah."
Mr. Peter was laughing now, but he had seatedhimself on the withered grass as far as possible fromBrawn.
"I must say that three hours in a tree-top gives onethe devil's own appetite," he began. "I had gone totake a stroll in the forest, you know-"
"Yes," said Roland, "we do know."
Mr. Peter looked a little crestfallen, but saidpointedly enough: "If you do know, there is no needfor me to tell you."
"Oh, yes, go on!" cried Dick.
"Well then, I had not gone half a mile, and was justlighting up a cigarette, when Brawn came down onme, and I had barely time to spring into the treebefore he reached the foot of it. There I waited aspatiently as Job would have done-thank you, steward, what a splendid Irish stew! – till by and by-aprecious long by and by-your boys came to look forBrawn, and in finding Brawn they found poor famishingme. Thank you, Bill, I'll be glad of a little wine."
"Looking for Brawn, they found you, eh!" saidRoland. "I should have put it differ-"
But Dick punched Roland's leg, and Roland laughedand said no more.
—
Two days after the arrival of Burly Bill an orderwas given for general embarkation. All under theirseveral officers were inspected on the river bank, andto each group was allotted a station in boat or canoe.
The head men or captains from whom Bill had hiredthe transport were in every instance retained, but alarge number of Roland's own Indians were mostexpert rowers, and therefore to take others would onlyserve to load the vessels uncomfortably, not to saydangerously.
But peons or paddlers to the number of two or fourto each large canoe their several captains insisted onhaving.
The inspection on the bank was a kind of "musterby open list", and Roland was exceedingly pleasedwith the result, for not a man or boy was missing.
It was a delightful day when the expedition was atlast got under way.
Roland and Dick, with Peter, to say nothing ofBrawn, occupied the after-cabin in a canoe of verylight draught, but really a twelve-tonner. The cabinwas, of course, both dining-room and sleeping berth-thelounges being skins of buffaloes and of wild beasts, but all clean and sweet.
The cabin itself was built of bamboo and bambooleaves lined with very light skins, so overlapping asto make the cabin perfectly dry.
Our heroes had arranged about light, and candleswere brought out as soon as daylight began to fade.
Then the canoes were paddled towards the bank orinto some beautiful reach or back-water, and theremade fast for the night with padlock and chain.
Roland and Dick had their own reasons for takingsuch strict precautions.
The first day passed without a single adventureworth relating.
The paddlers or peons, of whom there were sevenon each side of our hero's huge canoe, workedtogether well. They oftentimes sang or chanted a wildindescribable kind of boat-lilt, to which the sound ofthe paddles was an excellent accompaniment, butnow and then the captain would shout: "Choorka-choorka!"which, from the excitement the words caused, evidently meant "Sweep her up!" and then the vesselseemed to fly over the water and dance in the air.
Other canoe captains would take up the cry, and"Choorka-Choorka!" would resound from every side.
A sort of race was on at such times, but the BurnleyHall, as Roland's boat was called, nearly always leftthe others astern.
Dinner was cooked on shore, and nearly everyonelanded at night. Only our heroes stuck to their boat.
There were moon and stars at present, and verypleasant it was to sit, or rather lie, at their open-sidedcabin, and to watch these mirrored in the calm water, while fire-flies danced and flitted from bush to bush.
But there was always the sorrow and the weight ofgrief lying deep down in the hearts of both Rolandand Dick; the ever-abiding anxiety, the one questionthey kept asking themselves constantly, and whichcould not be answered, "Shall we be in time to savepoor Peggy?"
Mr. Peter slept on shore.
Brawn kept him company. Kept untiring watchover him. And two faithful and well-armed Indianslay in the bush at a convenient distance.
In a previous chapter I have mentioned anex-cannibal Bolivian, whom Roland had made up hismind to take with him as a guide in the absence of,or in addition to, faithful Benee.
He was called Charlie by the whites.
Charlie was as true to his master as the needle tothe pole.
On the third evening of the voyage, just as Rolandand Dick, with Bill, were enjoying an after-dinnerlounge in an open glade not far from the river brink, the moon shining so brightly that the smallest of typecould easily have been read by young eyes, hesuddenly appeared in their midst.
"What cheer, Charlie?" said Roland kindly. "Come, squat thee down, and we will give you a tiny toothfulof aguardiente."
"Touchee me he, no, no!" was the reply. "Hecatchee de bref too muchee. Smokee me, notwidstanding," he added.
It was one of Charlie's peculiarities that if he couldonce get hold of a big word or two, he planted them inhis conversation whenever he thought he had afavourable opening.
An ex-cannibal Charlie was, and he came from thegreat western unexplored district of Bolivia.
He confessed that although fond of "de pig ob deforest (tapir), de tail ob de 'gator, and de bighaboo-snake when roast," there was nothing in all the worldso satisfactory as "de fles' ob a small boy. Yum, yum! it was goodee, goodee notwidstanding, and makebof him ear crack and him 'tumack feel wa'm."
Charlie lit up his cigarette, and then commenced toexplain the reason of his visit.
"What you callee dat?" he said, handing Burly Billa few large purple berries of a species of thornylaurel.
"Why," said Bill, "these are the fruit of thelanton-tree, used for poisoning arrow-tips."
"And dis, sah. What you callee he? Mind, mind,no touchee de point! He poison, notwidstanding."
It was a thin bamboo cane tipped with a fine-pointednail.
Bill waited for him to explain.
He condescended to do so at last.
"Long time ago I runee away from de cannibalIndians notwidstanding. I young den, I fat, I sweetin flesh. Sometime my leg look so nice, I like to eatone little piecee ob myse'f. But no. Charlie not onebig fool. But de chief tink he like me. He takeme to him tent one day, den all muchee quickee heslaves run in and take up knife. Ha, ha! I catcheeknife too, notwidstanding. Charlie young and goodeeand plenty mooch blood fly.
"I killee dat chief, and killee bof slaves. Den Irunned away.
"Long time I wander in de bush, but one day Icome to de tents ob de white men. Dey kind to pohCharlie, and gib me work. I lub de white man; allsame, I no lub Massa Peter."
He paused to puff at a fresh cigarette.
"And," he added, "I fine dat poison berry and datleetle poison spear in place where Massa Peter sleep."
"Ho, ho!" said Bill.
Charlie grew a little more excited as he continued: "As shuah as God madee me, de debbil hisself makeedat bad man Peter. He wantee killee poh Brawn.Dat what for, notwidstanding."
Now although there be some human beings-theyare really not worth the name-who hate dogs, everygood-hearted man or woman in the world loves thosenoble animals who are, next to man, the best andbravest that God has created.
But there are degrees in the love people bear fortheir pets. If a faithful dog like Brawn is constantlywith one, he so wins one's affection that death alonecan sever the tie.
Not only Roland, but Dick also, dearly loved Brawn, and the bare idea that he was in danger of his life soangered both that, had Mr. Peter been present whenhonest Charlie the Indian made his communication, one of them would most certainly have gone for himin true Etonian style, and the man would have beenhardly presentable at court for a fortnight after atthe least.
"Dick," said Roland, the red blood mounting to hisbrow, the fire seeming to scintillate from his eyes."Dick, old man, what do you advise?"
"I know what I should like to do," answered Dick, with clenched fist and lowered brows.
"So do I, Dick; but that might only make matters worse.
"But Heaven keep me calm, old man," he continued,"for now I shall send for Peter and have it out withhim. Not at present, you say? But, Dick, I am allon fire. I must, I shall speak to him. Charlie, retire;I would not have Mr. Peter taking revenge on sogood a fellow as you."
At Dick's earnest request Roland waited for half anhour before he sent for Peter.
This gentleman advanced from the camp firehumming an operatic air, and with a cigar in hand.
"Oh, Mr. Peter," said Roland, "I was walking nearyour sleeping place of last night and picked this up."
He held up the little bamboo spear.
"What is it?" said Peter. "An arrow? I supposesome of the Indians dropped it. I never saw it before.It seems of little consequence," he continued, "thoughI dare say it would suffice to pink a rat with."
He laughed lightly as he spoke. "Was this all youwanted me for, Mr. St. Clair?"
He was handling the little spear as he spoke. Next moment:
"Merciful Father!" he suddenly screamed, "I havepricked myself! I am poisoned! I am a dead man!Brandy- Oh, quick- Oh-!"
He said never a word more, but dropped on themoss as if struck by a dum-dum bullet.
And there he lay, writhing in torture, foaming atthe mouth, from which blood issued from a bittentongue.
It was a ghastly and horrible sight. Roland lookedat Dick.
"Dick," he said, "the man knew it was poisoned."
"Better he should die than Brawn."
"Infinitely," said Roland.
CHAPTER XIX-STRUGGLING ONWARDS UP-STREAM
"But," said Roland, "it would be a pity to let evenPeter die, as we may have need of him. Let ussend for Charlie at once. Perhaps he can tell us of anantidote."
The Indian was not far off.
"Fire-water", was his reply to Dick's question, "and dis."
"Dis" was the contents of a tiny bottle, which hespeedily rubbed into the wound in Peter's hand.
The steward, as one of the men was called, quicklybrought a whole bottle of rum, the poisoned man's jawswere forced open, and he was literally drenched withthe hot and fiery spirit.
But spasm after spasm took place after this, andwhile the body was drawn up with cramp, and themuscles knotted and hard, the features were fearfullycontorted.
By Roland's directions chloroform was now pouredon a handkerchief, and after this was breathed by thesufferer for a few minutes the muscles became relaxed, and the face, though still pale as death, became moresightly.
More rum and more rubbing with the antidote, andMr. Peter slept in peace.
About sunrise he awoke, cold and shivering, butsensible.
After a little more stimulant he began to talk.
"Bitten by a snake, have I not been?"
"Mr. Peter," said Roland sternly, "you havenarrowly escaped the death you would have metedout to poor Brawn with your cruel and accursed arrow.
"You may not love the dog. He certainly does notlove you, and dogs are good judges of character. Hetree'd you, and you sought revenge. You doubtlesshave other reasons to hate Brawn, but his life is farmore to us than yours. Now confess you meant to dofor him, and then to make your way down-stream bystealing a canoe."
"I do not, will not confess," cried Peter. "It is alie. I am here against my will. I am kidnapped. Iam a prisoner. The laws of even this country-andsorry I am ever I saw it-will and shall protect me."
Roland was very calm, even to seeming carelessness.
"We are on the war-path at present, my friend," hesaid very quietly. "You are suspected of one of themost horrible crimes that felon ever perpetrated, thatof procuring the abduction of Miss St. Clair andhanding her over to savages."
"As Heaven is above us," cried Peter, "I am guiltlessof that!"
"Hush!" roared Roland, "why take the sacred nameof Heaven within your vile lips. Were you not aboutto die, I would strike you where you stand."
"To die, Mr. Roland? You-you-you surely don't mean-"
Roland placed a whistle to his lips, and its soundbrought six stern men to his side.
"Bind that man's hands behind his back and hanghim to yonder tree," was the order.
In two minutes' time the man was pinioned and thenoose dangling over his head.
As he stood there, arrayed but in shirt and trousers, pale and trembling, with the cold sweat on his brow,it would have been difficult even to imagine a moredistressing and pitiable sight.
His teeth chattered in his head, and he swayedabout as if every moment about to fall.
A man advanced, and was about to place the noosearound his neck when:
"A moment, one little moment!" cried Peter. "Sir-Mr. St. Clair-Idid mean to take your favourite dog's life."
"And Miss St. Clair?"
"I am innocent. If-I am to be lynched-for-that-youhave the blood of a guiltless man on your head."
Dick Temple had seen enough. He advanced nowto Peter's side.
"Your crime deserves lynching," he said, "but I willintercede for you if you promise me sacredly you willnever attempt revenge again. If you do, as sure asfate you shall swing."
"I promise-Oh-I promise!"
Dick retired, and after a few minutes' conversationwith Roland, the wretched man was set free.
Entre nous, reader, Roland had never really meantto lynch the man. But so utterly nerveless andbroken-down was Mr. Peter now, that as soon as hewas released he threw himself on the ground, cryinglike a child.
Even Brawn pitied him, and ran forward andactually licked the hands of the man who would havecruelly done him to death.
So noble is the nature of our friend the dog.
—
The voyage up-stream was now continued. Butthe progress of so many boats and men was necessarilyslow, for all had to be provided for, and this meantspending about every alternate day in shooting, fishing, and collecting fruit and nuts.
The farther up-stream they got, however, the morelightsome and cheerful became the hearts of our heroes.
They began to look upon Peggy as already safe intheir camp.
"I say, you know," said Dick one day, "our passageup is all toil and trouble, but won't it be delightfulcoming back."
"Yes, indeed," said Roland, smiling.
"We sha'n't hurry, shall we?"
"Oh, no! poor Peggy's health must need renovating, and we must let her see all that is to be seen."
"Ye-es, of course! Certainly, Roll, and it will beall just too lovely for anything, all one deliciouslydelicious picnic."
"I hope so."
"Don't look quite so gloomy, Roland, old man. Itell you it is all plain sailing now. We have only tomeet Benee when we get as far as the rendezvous, then strike across country, and off and away to theland of the cannibals and give them fits."
"Oh, I'm not gloomy, you know, Dick, though notquite so hopeful as you! We have many difficultiesto encounter, and there may be a lot of fighting afterwe get there; and, mind you, that game of giving fitsis one that two can play at."
"Choorka! Choorka!" shouted the captain of theleading boat, a swarthy son of the river.
As he spoke, he pointed towards the western bank, and thither as quickly as paddles could send him hisboat was hurried. For they had been well out in thecentre of the river, and had reached a place where thecurrent was strong and swift.
But closer to the bank it was more easy to row.
Nevertheless, two of the canoes ran foul of a snag.One was capsized at once, and the other stuck on top.
The 'gators here were in dozens apparently, andbefore the canoe could be righted two men had beendragged below, the brown stream being tinged withtheir gushing blood.
Both were Indians, but nevertheless their sad deathcast a gloom over the hearts of everyone, which wasnot easily dispelled.
On again once more, still hugging the shore; butafter dinner it was determined to stay where theywere for the night.
They luckily found a fine open back-water, and thisthey entered and were soon snug enough.
They could not be idle, however. Food must becollected, and everything-Roland determined-mustgo on like clock-work, without hurry or bustle.
Soon, therefore, after the canoes were made fast, both Indians and whites were scattered far and nearin the forest, on the rocks and hills, and on the rivers.
I believe that all loved the "boys", as Roland andDick were called by the white men, and so all workedright cheerfully, laughing and singing as they did so.
Ten men besides our heroes and Burly Bill hadremained behind to get the tents up and to preparethe evening meal, for everybody would return ashungry as alligators, and these gentry seem to havea most insatiable appetite.
Just before sunset on this particular evening Rolandand Dick had another interview with Mr. Peter.
"I should be a fool and a fraud, Mr. Peter," said theformer, "were I to mince matters. Besides, it is notmy way. I tell you, then, that during our journeyyou will have yonder little tent to yourself to eat andto sleep in. I tell you, too, that despite your declarationsof innocence I still suspect you, that neverthelessno one will be more happy than Mr. Temple here andmyself if you are found not guilty. But you mustface the music now. You must be guarded, strictlyguarded, and I wish you to know that you are. Iwish to impress upon you also that your sentries havestrict orders to shoot you if you are found makingany insane attempt to escape. In all other respectsyou are a free man, and I should be very sorry indeedto rope or tie you. Now you may go."
"My time will come," said Mr. Peter meaningly.
His face was set and determined.
"Is this a threat?" cried Roland, fingering hisrevolver.
But Peter's dark countenance relaxed at once.
"A threat!" he said. "No, no, Mr. Roland. I aman unarmed man, you are armed, and everyone is onyour side. But I repeat, my time will come to clearmy character; that is all.
"So be it, Mr. Peter."
And the man retired to his tent breathing blackcurses deep though not aloud.
"I've had enough of this," he told himself. "Andescape that young cub's tyranny I must and shall, even should I die in my tracks. Curse them all!"
—
Next day a deal of towing was required, for theriver was running fierce and strong, and swirling inangry eddies and dangerous maelstroms even close tothe bank.
This towing was tiresome work, and although allhands bent to it, half a mile an hour was their highestrecord.
But now they neared the terrible rapids of Antonio, and once more a halt was called for the night, inorder that all might be fresh and strong to negotiatethese torrents.
Next day they set to work.
All the cargo had to be got on shore, and a fewarmed men were left to guard it. Then the emptyboats were towed up.
For three or four miles the river dashed onwardhere over its rocky bed, with a noise like distantthunder, a chafing, boiling, angry stream, which butto look at caused the eyes to swim and the senses toreel.
There are stretches of comparatively calm waterbetween the rapids, and glad indeed were Roland'sbrave fellows to reach these for a breathing-spell.
In the afternoon, before they were half-way throughthese torrents, a halt was called for the night in a littlebay, and the baggage was brought up.
They fell asleep that night with the roar of therapids in their ears, and the dreams of many of themwere far indeed from pleasant.
Morning brought renewal of toil and struggle. But"stout hearts to stey braes" is an excellent oldScottish motto. It was acted on by this gallant expedition, and so in a day or two they found themselves in afresh turmoil of water beneath the splendid waterfallsof Theotonia.
The river was low, and in consequence the cataractwas seen at its best, though not its maddest. Fancy,if you can, paddling to keep your way-not toadvance-face to face with a waterfall a mile at least inbreadth, and probably forty feet in height, dividedinto three by rocky little islands, pouring inwhite-brown sheets sheer down over the rock, and fallingwith a steady roar into the awful cauldrons beneath.It is like a small Niagara, but, with the hills and rocksand stately woods, and the knowledge that one is inan uncivilized land, among wild beasts and wilder men, far more impressive.
Our young heroes were astonished to note themultitudes of fish of various kinds on all sides ofthem. The pools were full.
The larger could be easily speared, but bait of anykind they did not seem to fancy. They were troubledand excited, for up the great stream and through thewild rapids they had made their way in order tospawn in the head-waters of the Madeira and itstributaries. But Nature here had erected a barrier.
Yet wild were their attempts to fling themselvesover. Many succeeded. The fittest would survive.Others missed, or, gaining but the rim of the cataract, were hurled back, many being killed.
Another halt, another night of dreaming of allkinds of wild adventures. The Indians had told thewhites, the evening before, strange legends about thedeep, almost bottomless, pools beneath the falls.
Down there, according to them, devils dwell, andhold high revelry every time the moon is full. Dark?No it is not dark at the bottom, for Indians who havebeen dragged down there and afterwards escaped, have related their adventures, and spoken of thesplendid caverns lit up by crimson fire, whose mouthsopen into the water. Caverns more gorgeous andbeautiful than eyes of men ever alight upon above-ground.Caverns of crystal, of jasper, onyx, and ruby; caverns around whose stalactites demons, in the formof six-legged snakes, writhe and crawl, but arenevertheless possessed of the power to change their shapesin the twinkling of an eye from the horrible andgrotesque to the beautiful.
Prisoners from the upper world are tortured here, whether men, women, or children, and the awful ritesperformed are too fearful-so say the Indians-to beeven hinted at.
The cargo first and the empty canoes next had tobe portaged half a mile on shore and above thelovely linn. This was extremely hard work, but itwas safely accomplished at last.
Roland was not only a born general, but akind-hearted and excellent master. He never lost histemper, nor uttered a bad or impatient word, andthus there was not an Indian there who would nothave died for him and his companion Dick.
Moreover, the officer-Indians found that kind wordswere more effectual than cuts with the bark whipsthey carried, or blows with the hand on naked shoulders.
And so the march and voyage was one of peace andcomfort.
Accidents, however, were by no means rare, forthere were snags and sunken rocks to be guardedagainst, and more than one of the small canoes werestove and sunk, with the loss of precious lives.
—
Roland determined not to overwork his crew. Thismight spoil everything, for many of the swamps in theneighbourhood of which they bivouacked arepestilential in the extreme.
Mosquitoes were found rather a plague at first, butour boys had come prepared.
They carried sheets of fine muslin-the ordinarymosquito-nets are useless-for if a "squeeter" getsone leg through, his body very soon wriggles after, and then he begins to sing a song of thanksgivingbefore piercing the skin of the sleeper with hispoison-laden proboscis. But mosquitoes cannot get throughthe muslin, and have to sing to themselves on theother side.
After a time, however, the muslin was not thoughtabout, for all hands had received their baptism ofblood, and bites were hardly felt.