Rob Harlow's Adventures Part 40

"No, you won't, lad."

"But I will."

"He won't let you."

"Won't he?" said Rob firmly. "I'm in the wrong, and I'll tell him so frankly, and ask him to forgive me."

"And then he won't; and, what's worse, he'll think you're afraid of him, because it is his natur' to."

"We'll see," said Rob; and going round outside the canvas awning by holding on to the iron stretchers and ropes, he reached the spot where Joe sat staring fixedly astern, perfectly conscious of Rob's presence, but frowning and determined upon a feud.

Rob glanced back, and could see Brazier through the opening in the canvas busily examining his specimens, so as to see if any had grown damp through the rain. Then, feeling that, if he whispered, their conversation would not be heard, Rob began.

"Joe!"

There was no reply.

"Joe, old chap, I'm so sorry." Still the young Italian gazed over the lake. "I say, Joe, it's like being alone almost, you here and I out there. We can't afford to quarrel. Shake hands, old fellow."

Joe frowned more deeply.

"Oh, come, you shall," whispered Rob. "I say, here, give me your hand like a man. I was put out about losing the puma, because I was sure I could tame it; and it would have made such a jolly pet to go travelling with. It could have lived on the sh.o.r.e and only been on board when we were going down the river. It put me out, and I said that stupid thing about the monkey."

Joe started round with his eyes flashing.

"Do you want me to strike you a blow?" he hissed angrily.

"No; I want you to put your fist in mine and to say we're good friends again. I apologise. I'm very sorry."

"Keep your apologies. You are a mean coward to call me a name like that. If we were ash.o.r.e instead of on a boat, I should strike you."

"No, you wouldn't," said Rob st.u.r.dily.

"What! you think I am afraid?"

"No; but you would be a coward if you did, because I tell you that I should not hit you again."

"Because you dare not," said the young Italian, with a sneer.

Rob flushed up angrily, and his words belied his feelings, which prompted him, to use his own expression, to punch the Italian's head, for he said,--

"Perhaps I am afraid, but never mind if I am. You and I are not going to quarrel about such a trifle as all this."

"A trifle? To insult me as you did?"

"Don't be so touchy, Joe," cried Rob. "Come, shake hands."

But the lad folded his arms across his breast, and at that moment there was the sharp report of Brazier's gun and a heavy splashing in the water among the lily leaves close up to the drooping trees which hid the cause of the turmoil.

There was a little excitement among the men as the boat was rowed close in under the trees, and there, half in the water, lay one of the curious animals known as a water-pig, or carpincho.

A rope was immediately made fast to tow the dead animal to the halting-place to cut up for the evening meal, but before they had rowed far Shaddy shouted to the men to stop.

"That won't do," he cried.

"What's the matter, Shaddy?"

"Matter?" growled the guide; "why, can't you see, sir? There won't be a bit left by the time we've gone a mile. Look at 'em tearing away at it.

Well, I never shall have any sense in my head. To think of me not knowing any better than that!"

He unfastened the rope hanging astern, and hauled the dead animal along the side to the bows of the boat, with fish large and small dashing at it and tugging away by hundreds, making the water boil, as it were, with, their rapid movement.

"Tchah! I'm growing stoopid, I think," growled Shaddy as he hauled the water-pig in over the bows, the fish hanging on and leaping up at it till it was out of reach; and then their journey was continued till a suitable halting-place was reached, where by a roaring fire objects that required drying were spread out, while the meat was cooked and the coffee made, so that by the time they lay down to rest in the boat there was not much cause for fear of fever.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A CATASTROPHE.

The next morning the sun was drinking up the mists at a wonderful rate when Rob opened his eyes, saw Joe close by him fast asleep, and raised his hand to give him a friendly slap, but he checked himself.

"We're not friends yet," he said to himself, with a curious, regretful feeling troubling him; and as he went forward to get one of the men to fill him a bucket of water for his morning bath, for the first time since leaving England he felt dismal and low-spirited.

"Morning, sir!" said Shaddy. "Mr Joe not wakened yet?"

"No."

"Did you two make friends 'fore you went to sleep?"

"No, Shaddy."

"Then I lay tuppence it wasn't your fault. What a pity it was you let your tongue say that about the monkey!"

"Yes, Shaddy," said Rob as he plunged his head into the pail and had a good cool sluice. "I wish I hadn't now. It was a great pity."

"True, sir, it was. You see, there ain't no room in a boat for quarrelling, and if it came to a fight you'd both go overboard together and be eaten by the fish afore you knew where you were. And that would not be pleasant, would it?"

"Don't talk nonsense, Shaddy," said Rob shortly as he plunged his head into the bucket again.

"Certinly not, sir," replied the man seriously. "You see, I know how it would be as well as can be. 'Talian lads don't fight like English lads.

They can't hit out straight and honest, but clings and cuddles and wrastles. Soon as ever you began he'd fly at you, and tie his arms and legs about you in knots, and hamper you so that you couldn't keep your balance, and as there's no room in the boat, you'd be ketching your toe somewhere, and over you'd go. If I were you, Mr Rob, sir, I wouldn't fight him."

"Will you leave off talking all that stupid nonsense, Shaddy?" cried Rob angrily as he began now polishing his head and face with the towel.

"Who is going to fight? I suppose you think it's very clever to keep on with this banter, but I can see through you plainly enough."

Shaddy chuckled.