O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas Part 15

"Friday had boldly rushed to my rescue. He struck the puma over the head with his useless rifle. The beast sprang backwards fully fifteen feet, and prepared to give Friday battle, but the brave fellow was on him, knife in hand, in a moment. Friday told me afterwards that he literally flung himself on the puma. Had he missed his aim, he would never have had another chance, but deep into the monster's very heart went the dagger, and he never moved a muscle more. Friday was unwounded."

"And you, Ben?"

"Fearfully cut in the shoulder with the puma's teeth, cut in the back with the talons of his fore feet, and lacerated in the stomach with his hind. They have an ugly way of cutting downwards with those talons of theirs, few who have felt it are likely to forget."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

"Wide-rent, the clouds Pour a whole flood; and yet, its flame unquenched Th' unconquerable lightning straggles through Ragged and fierce, or in red whirling b.a.l.l.s, And fires the mountains with redoubled rage."

Thomson.

My old friend Captain Roberts is quite a remarkable man in his way--yes, I might go farther and say, in many of his ways. As a pedestrian, for example, there are few young men can beat him. When he and I make up our minds to have a walk, the elements do not prevent us. We start and go through with it.

But in summer or spring weather, when the roads are not quite ankle-deep in mud, we dearly love to mount our tricycles and go for a good long spin. We like to return feeling delightfully hungry and delightfully tired; then we dine together, and after dinner, when good old Ben gets his pipe in full blast, it would indeed do your heart good to listen to him. Everything or anything suggests a yarn to Ben, or brings back to his mind some sunny memory or gloomy recollection.

One day last summer we started for a ride, for the morning looked very promising, and the roads were in splendid form. We followed the course of the Thames upwards, and about noon found ourselves enjoying our frugal luncheon near a pretty little reach of the river, one of the thousand beautiful spots by the banks of this famous old stream.

As the clouds, however, began to bank up rather suddenly in the west, and as they soon met and quite hid the sun, and as the day was still and sultry, we expected, what we soon got, a thunderstorm. Neither my friend nor I am very shy, when it comes to the push, so we ran for shelter, and just as the thunder began to roll and the raindrops to fall, we got our 'cycles comfortably housed in a farmer's shed.

The farmer was not content, however, until he had us both indoors in his comfortable parlour. He threw the window wide open, because, he said, the gla.s.s drew the lightning; so there we sat with the thunder rattling overhead, the rain pattering on the gra.s.s and sending up delicious odours of red and white clover, while the lightning seemed to run along the ground, and mix itself up with the sparkling rain-rush in quite a wonderful way.

"Terrible thunder!" said Captain Roberts. "Terrible! puts me in mind of South America."

The farmer looked eagerly towards him.

The farmer's wife entered with tea, and this completed our feeling of comfort.

"You've got something to tell us, Ben," I said. "There is something which that storm reminds you of. Better out with it, without much further parley."

"Ah, well," he said, "I suppose I must. Not that it is very much of a story; only, gentlemen, it is true. I haven't lived long enough yet to have to invent yarns. I haven't told half what I've seen and come through. But not to weary you--what delicious tea, ma'am!"

"So glad it pleases you, sir."

"I've sailed around a good many coasts in my time; but I think you will find scenery more charming on the seaboard of some parts of South America than in any other country in the world. Round about Patagonia, now, what can beat the coast line for grandeur and stern beauty?

Nothing that I know of.

"But farther north--on the sh.o.r.es of Bolivia, for instance--the scenery is just a trifle disappointing; the coast is low and sandy, and very rough in places.

"They call the ocean that laves it the Pacific. Bless my soul! friends, had you but seen it one day in the month of April, 18--, you wouldn't have said there was much 'pacific' about it. The bit of a barque I was coasting in was on a lee-sh.o.r.e, too, and there was nothing short of a miracle could save her. We all saw that from the first. That miracle never took place. We were carried on sh.o.r.e--carried in on top of a mountain wave, struck with fearful force, and broke in two in less than an hour.

"It was a wonder anybody was saved. As it was, seven of us got on sh.o.r.e one way or another, and there we lay battered and bruised. The sun dried one half of our clothes; then we rolled round, and he dried the other. We had tasted no food for four-and-twenty hours, for we had been battened down, and all hands had to be on deck. So when a case rolled right up to our very feet we weren't long looking inside it, and glad enough to find some provisions in the shape of tinned soup.

"Stores floated on sh.o.r.e next day, and spars, and one thing and another, so we rigged a tent, and made ourselves as much at home as it was possible for shipwrecked mariners to do.

"We had been shipwrecked apparently on a most inhospitable sh.o.r.e. To say there wasn't a green thing in sight would hardly be correct. Bits of scrubby bushes grew here and there in the sand, and a kind of strong rough gra.s.s also in patches; but that was all. Inland, the horizon was bounded by a chain of mountains; to the west was the ocean, calm enough now, very wide and dark and blue, with not even an island to break its monotony.

"It was a poor look-out for us, only we all agreed that it would be better to stay where we were until our wounds and bruises were somewhat healed, and until we had gathered sufficient strength to explore the country.

"We had plenty to eat and drink where we were; we could not tell how we might fare elsewhere. Only we were quite out of the way of ships, and our provisions would not last for ever.

"For the first three or four days, I may say we did nothing else but bury our dead. Sad enough employment, you must allow. But after this a breeze of wind sprang up, which during the night increased to a gale, blowing right on to the sh.o.r.e. When the darkness lifted, to our great joy we found our ship, or rather the pieces of her that had in a sort of way held together, floated high and dry on the beach.

"Had we wished now to become Crusoes we should have had every convenience, for we not only got provisions of all kinds out of the wreck, but boxes of stores, guns, and ammunition. For the last we were very grateful; and rough sailors though we were, we did not forget to kneel down there on the sands and thank the Giver of all good, not only for having mercifully spared us from the violence of the sea, but for giving us this earnest of future good fortune.

"The hawk scents the quarry from afar, and early next morning we were not surprised to receive a visit from some armed Indians. They rode on horses and on mules that seemed as fleet as they were sure-footed.

These Indians were kind enough to express a wish, not over-politely worded, to possess samples of our various stores. We gave them to eat as much as they liked; but when they attempted to pillage the wreck, we first and foremost smilingly and persuasively hinted our disapproval of such a proceeding.

"This hint not being taken, we tried another: we levelled guns at them, and they fled.

"They came again the next day; and we made them many presents, and asked them, in broken Spanish and a deal of sign language, to conduct us safely over the mountains to the nearest Bolivian town or settlement.

"They were in all about twenty, and if they were half as bad in heart as they looked, then they were indeed scoundrels of the first water. But we numbered seven--seven bold hearts and true, and we were well armed, and able enough to drive a bargain with these fellows to our mutual advantage.

"We did so in this way: we were to have several horses and five mules, which should be laden with all our own especial baggage. They--the Indians--should have as much as they liked of the stores that remained.

"They appeared to consent to this willingly enough. So we made our packs up--taking the best of everything, of course, and whatever was of the greatest value.

"It was now well on in the afternoon, so we determined to start on our journey inland the very next morning. The Indians had still half a dozen good mules left, and they at once set about making preparations for loading them.

"There was a deal of squabbling and wrangling over the division, and more than once they seemed coming to blows.

"As soon as they had chosen all they could carry, we set about piling up the rest of the wreckage in a heap, preparatory to setting fire to it.

This was absolutely necessary, for if anything was left behind it would be but a short convoy those Indians would give us. They would hide their mule packs among the mountains and hurry back for more.

"They were very much displeased, therefore, to see what we were about.

"But nothing cared we; and just as the sun dipped down into the western ocean we set fire to the immense pile.

"When darkness fell, and the flames leaped high into the air, the scene was one worthy of the brush of a Rembrandt. The sea was lit up for miles with a ruddy glare; the sands were all aglow with the blaze; the Indians and their mules thrown out in bold relief looked picturesque in the extreme, while we, the white men, armed to the teeth, and carefully watching the Indians, though not in any way to give them cause for alarm, formed a by no means insignificant portion of the scene.

"We were early astir the next day, and on the road before the sun had begun to peep down over the eastern hills.

"We marched in single file, an old grey-bearded Indian leading the van as our guide.

"Before many hours we had left the sandy hills along the seash.o.r.e, and had entered the mountain defiles.

"Scenery more rugged, wild, and beautiful I had seldom clapped eyes upon, either before or since. At the same time we could not help feeling thankful that we had obtained the guidance of these Indians, treacherous though they no doubt were, for we never could have made our way otherwise across this range of rugged mountains, nor through the wild entanglement of forest.

"By day many a wild beast crossed our pathway, but only seldom we shot them, and we never followed far; we were shipwrecked sailors trying to make our way to some semi-civilised town, where we could live in some degree of safety until we found out the lay of the land, as our mate called it, and fell in at last with some British ship.

"These fellows, our guides, could tell us nothing, but they led us day after day towards the east and the north.

"We kept a strict watch over their every movement, and it was well we did so. At night we bivouacked but a little distance from their camp, and had separate fires and separate sentries.

"Almost every evening after supper they made themselves madly drunk with the wine they had received from us, and without which they would have refused to guide us at all.

"After four days' wandering we arrived, during a pitiless storm of thunder and rain, at a strange and semi-barbarian village. The houses or huts were built upon piles, and the inhabited portion of them stood high above the ground; you had to ascend to this on a sort of hen's ladder.