O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas Part 16

"The street itself at the time we entered the town was more like a river than anything else. But we were glad enough to find shelter of any kind, drenched to the skin as we were, and wet and weary as well.

"Next day was bright and clear again, and it seemed to me that every one of the villagers turned out to see us start. They appeared to be peaceable enough, so we made little presents to the women, and advised our Indian guides to do the same. They were not inclined to part with anything, however, and evidently looked upon us as fools for what we did.

"Our march that day was across vast plains and swamps towards another mountain-chain, more rugged and grand than any we had yet seen.

"We chatted pleasantly and sang as we rode on, for the Indians a.s.sured us that in two days more we should arrive at a very large and populous city, where plenty of rich white men lived, with splendid houses, broad paved streets, hotels, and even palaces. We bivouacked that night at the very foot of the chain of mountains, and next morning entered and rode through gloomy glens and dark woods, and the farther we rode the wilder the country seemed to become. Yet some of the woodland scenes were inexpressibly lovely. We came out at last on the brow of a hill, just as the sun was setting over the distant forest, and bathing with its golden glory a scene as lovely as it was sad and melancholy.

"A vast plain in the centre of an amphitheatre of hills, clad almost to their summits with lofty trees, a broad river meandering through this plain, and on both banks thereof what appeared from where we stood to be a city of palaces. Alas! on entering it we found it a city of ruins.

Trees and shrubs grew where the streets had been, the gardens had degenerated into jungles; we saw wild beasts hiding behind the mouldering walls, and heard them growl as we pa.s.sed; and we saw monster snakes and lizards wriggling hither and thither, and these were the only inhabitants of this once large and populous town.

"Yet in the halls of its palaces the banquet had once been spread, and gaiety, mirth, and music had resounded in its streets and thoroughfares, till war came with murder and pestilence, and then all was changed. The city's best sons were sent to work in mines, or slain; the city's fairest daughters marched away in chains to become the slaves of their terrible foes.

"I could not help thinking of all this as I rode through this ruined city of the plain, and sighed as I did so. The words and music of the sad old song came into my mind:

"'So sinks the pride of former days When glory's thrill is o'er.

And hearts that once beat high with praise Now feel that pulse no more.'

"But the sun set and night came on, and with it storm and darkness."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak.

Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear."

Byron.

My friend Ben paused for a moment.

A sheet of lightning almost blinded us. It was followed instantaneously by one of the most terrific peals of thunder I have ever heard in this country.

"It was in just such a storm as this," said Captain Roberts, "that we took shelter in the ruins of an old fort. We tethered our mules outside, and we had not even the heart to keep the Indians from sharing our quarters. For once, and it was the last time, we ate with them, drank with them, and talked to them. How little we suspected them of treachery!

"We found plenty of dry wood in the old fort and soon had a roaring fire with which to warm up our soup and cook our vegetables.

"'Who goes sentry to-night?' I said to the mate.

"'Well,' replied the mate, 'I guess we'd better draw for it. He'll have a wet skin whoever does it.'

"It was just after dinner when this conversation took place.

"'But,' continued the mate, stretching himself before the fire, 'I expect it will be between you and me, for, look, the other fellows have all gone to sleep, and I feel so drowsy I really--don't--know--how long--'

"He said no more; he was asleep.

"'Poor fellows,' I said to myself, as I took up my gun and prepared to leave the room, 'they're tired. I'll station myself here by the door, where I can be in the dry and still see all that is going on.'

"The storm continued with unabated violence. The rain came down in sheets; the thunder seemed to rend the old fort and shake it to its very foundation, while the lightning was everywhere; the whole world looked as if on fire. Night was coming on, and rude though our shelter was, I felt thankful we were not out in the gloom of the forest.

"'How soundly they sleep!' I said to myself about half an hour after when I went to heap more wood on the five. 'How I envy them! I'll sit a moment and think. The Indians are not so bad as they look. First impressions are not always--the--best.'

"The next thing I was conscious of was hearing voices close beside me.

It was the Indians bending over me and over my companions, and seeming to listen for our breathing.

"'They're dead,' one said.

"'Better make sure,' said another.

"Then with half-open eyes I could see drawn daggers gleaming in the fire-light; but I was unable to stir hand or foot; I felt like one in some dreadful nightmare. I tried to shriek, but my voice failed me.

Then, 'O G.o.d, be merciful to us!' I inwardly prayed, 'for our hour is come.'

"Two Indians advanced, knives in hand, towards the mate. One pulled his head back, the other had his arm uplifted to strike, when suddenly he sprang back appalled.

"Was it sent as in answer to my prayer? I know not; yet I firmly believe nothing happens by chance. The electric fluid had entered by the roof, shattering the masonry and scattering the fire. It gleamed on the uplifted knife of the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin; he dropped it, and with arm paralysed and hanging by his side fled shrieking from the building. The others uttered exclamations of terror and surprise, and quickly followed the first.

"I remember no more then. Daylight was s.h.i.+mmering in through the broken roof of the building, and the fire had long gone out, when I awoke s.h.i.+vering, and started to my feet.

"Almost at the same moment the mate jumped up. He was the first to speak.

"'We have been drugged,' he cried, pressing his hand to his aching head.

"'Drugged?' I answered. 'Yes, fools that we were to trust those scoundrels; we've been drugged, and, doubtless, robbed.'

"The mate looked very pale and ghastly in the early light of the morning; probably I myself looked little better. My surmise was right: the Indians had gone. They had taken all our goods and our pack-mules with them, and driven away the spare animals. Thank goodness, they had left us our arms and ammunition.

"Not even on the morning after the s.h.i.+pwreck did we poor fellows feel so miserable as we did now, seated round a meagre meal of bananas and gourds.

"But we were intent on regaining our goods.

"Clever though these Indians might be if alone and unenc.u.mbered, they could hardly go fast, nor far at a time, through forest and jungle with horses and laden mules. Nor could they go anywhere without leaving a trail that even a white man could pick up and follow.

"The rain of the previous night favoured us. We soon found the trail, and, better still, we had not gone very far ere a sound fell upon our ears that caused us to pause and listen. It was soon repeated--the neighing of a horse. I sprang into the jungle, and there, to my joy, found not only the horse I had ridden, but two others and some mules besides. The poor brutes were quietly browsing on the herbage and the tender leaves of young palm-trees, but were evidently delighted to see us.

"We went on now with more comfort, and had good hope of speedily coming up with the pillaging Indians, of whom we never doubted we could give a good account.

"Somewhat to our surprise we found they were taking a westerly direction, instead of going east and by north, as they had been leading us. They were either then bent upon returning to their own village, or making their way to some seaport where they could sell their plunder.

If this latter surmise was the correct one, we were comparatively safe; if the former, any chance we had of recapturing our goods lay in our being able to come up with them before they were reinforced by members of their own tribe. This thought made us redouble our exertions. But we were weak for want of food and from the effects of the drug that had been administered to us on the previous evening, so that our progress was not so great as we wished it to be.

"The trail continued all day to lead us through the jungle; but before sunset we found ourselves out in the open, on the brow of a hill that overlooked a vast, almost treeless, swamp. It was bounded on the further horizon by a chain of mountains--spurs, no doubt, of the ubiquitous Andes. Away to the left, and just under the hills, we could see smoke rising, and had no doubt that here our friends were encamped.

"We speedily held a council of war, at which we discussed the best plan for attacking the Indians.

"We stirred not then till long past nine o'clock, when the moon rose and flooded all the landscape. Then we took to the swamp. It was a terrible ride: at times our horses floundered in the quagmires, at other times they had to swim, to our imminent danger of being devoured by the huge alligators with which the place seemed to swarm. We startled the birds from their beds in the reeds, the wild beasts from their lairs in the patches of jungle, and herds of fleet-footed creatures fled, bounding away towards the forest at sight of us. It was a dangerous ride. But we cared for nothing now; it was life or death with us. We must reach the camp of the Indians, conquer them, or die in the attempt.

"All night we rode, struggling and fighting against fearful odds; but at five o'clock in the morning, or about one hour before sunrise, we left the plain and entered the forest, determined to take our foes by surprise. The ride through the tangled forest, without any pathway save that made by the beasts, was one of extreme difficulty. But we were free at last; and tethering our horses, we prepared for the attack. We could see the Indians on a small plateau not three hundred yards beneath us, asleep by their smouldering fires. But we were on the brow of a hill, they much nearer the plain; beneath was a precipice, overhung with trailing shrubs and creepers, fully five hundred feet in depth, which it was impossible to descend without risk of being seen.

"The place the Indians had chosen for a camping-ground was fortified by nature. Probably that is the reason they had not troubled to set a sentry. We saw our advantage at once; it was to make a detour, gain the level of the plain, then creep up the hill upon them, attacking both in flank and rear.

"We carried out our plans most successfully. Few but sailors could have climbed up the rocks which led to the plateau. So steep were they that in some places the loosening of a stone or one false step might mean death.