In Far Bolivia Part 22

Had anyone doubted the intoxicating power of this vilest of all vile drinks, a glance at the scene which soon ensued around the fire would speedily have convinced him.

Benee lay there watching these fiends as they gradually merged from one phase of drunkenness to another, and fain would he have sent half a dozen revolver bullets into the centre of the group, but his life depended on his keeping still.

The savages first confined themselves to merry talking, with coa.r.s.e jokes and ribaldry, and frequent outbursts of laughter. But when they had quaffed still more, they must seize their knives and get up to dance. Round and round the blazing fire they whirled and staggered through the smoke and through it again, with demoniacal shouts and awful yells, that awakened echoes among the forest wild beasts far and near.

Then they p.r.i.c.ked their bodies with their knives till the blood ran, and with this they splashed each other in hideous wantonness till faces and clothes were smeared in gore.

All this could but have one ending--a fight.

Benee saw one savage stabbed to the heart, and then the orgie became a fierce battle.

Now was Benee's time to escape.

Yet well he knew how acute the power of hearing is among the Bolivian savages. One strange noise, even the crackle of a bush, and the fighting would end in a hunt, and he would undoubtedly lose his life.

But he wriggled and crawled like a snake in the gra.s.s until twenty yards away, and now he moved cautiously, slowly off.

Soon the glare of the fire among the high trees was seen no more, and the yelling and cries were far behind and getting more and more indistinct every minute.

Benee refreshed himself at the stream, pulled some food from his pocket, and ate it while he ran.

He knew, however, that after fighting would come drowsiness, and that his late entertainers would soon be fast asleep, some of their heads pillowed, perhaps, on the dead body of their murdered comrade.

If there be in all this world a more demonish wretch than man is in a state of nature, or when--even among Christians--demoralized by drink, I wish to get hold of a specimen for my private menagerie. But the creature should be kept in a cage by itself. I would not insult my monkeys with the companions.h.i.+p of such a wretch, should it be man or beast.

CHAPTER XIII--THE MARCH TO THE LOVELESS LAND

On and on hurried Benee now, at his old swinging trot.

On and on beneath the splendid stars, his only companions, that looked so calmly sweet and appeared so near. G.o.d's angels surely they, speaking, as they gazed down, words from their home on high, peace and good-will to men, and happiness to all that lived and breathed.

On and on over plains, through moor and marsh, by lake and stream, by forest dark and jungle wild. It was evident that Benee meant to put leagues between himself and the camp of his recent enemies before each star grew beautiful and died; before the fiery sun leapt red above the eastern hills, and turned the darkness into day.

Benee had come onwards with such a rush that even the slimy alligators, by pond or brown lake, left their lairs among the tall nodding reeds and dashed in terror into the water.

Prowling wild beasts, the jaguar and puma, also hurried off at his approach, and many a scared bird flew screaming up into the darkling air.

But Benee heeded nothing. His way lay yonder. That bright particular star away down on the southwestern horizon shone over the great unexplored region of Bolivia.

Morning after morning it would be higher and higher above him, and when it shone at an angle of forty-five degrees he would be approaching the land of the cannibals.

Yes, but it was still a far cry to that country. By the time the sun did rise, and the mists gathered themselves off the valleys and glens that lay low beneath him, Benee felt sadly in want of rest.

He found a tree that would make him a good sleeping place, for the country he was now traversing abounded in hideous snakes and gigantic lizards, and he courted not the companions.h.i.+p of either.

The tree was an Abies of some undefined species.

Up and up crawled Benee, somewhat enc.u.mbered by his arms.

He got through a kind of "lubbers' hole" at last, though with much difficulty, and, safe enough here, he curled up with his face to the stem, and was soon so fast asleep that cannons could not have awakened him.

But satisfied Nature got uneasy at last, and far on towards evening he opened his eyes and wondered where he was.

Still only half-awake, he staggered to his feet and made a step forward.

It was only to fall over the end of a huge matted branch, but this branch lowered him gently on to the one immediately beneath it, and this down to the next, and so on. A strange mode of progression certainly, but Benee found himself sitting on the ground at last, as safe and sound as if he had come down in a parachute.

Then his recollection came back to him. He sought out some fruit-trees now and made a hearty meal, quenched his thirst at a spring, and once more resumed his journey.

For three days he marched onwards, but always by night. The country was not safe by day, and he preferred the companions.h.i.+p of wild beasts to that of wilder men. In this Benee was wise.

But awaking somewhat earlier one afternoon, he saw far beneath him, a town, and in Benee's eyes it was a very large one.

And now a happy idea struck him. He had money, and here was civilization. By and by he would be in the wilds once more, and among savages who knew nothing of cash. Why should he not descend, mix with the giddy throng, and make purchases of red cloth, of curios, and of beads. He determined to do so.

But it would not do to go armed. So he hid his rifle and pistols in the bush, covering them carefully up with dried gra.s.s. Then he commenced the descent. Yes, the little town, the greater part of which was built of mud hovels, was full, and the streets crowded, many in the throng being Spaniards, Peruvians, and Portuguese.

Benee sauntered carelessly on and presently came to the bazaar.

Many of the police eyed him curiously, and one or two followed him.

But he had no intention of being baulked in his purpose.

So he entered a likely shop, and quickly made his purchases.

Wrapping these carefully up, he slung the bundle over his shoulder and left.

He stumbled over a lanky Portuguese policeman a few yards off.

The man would have fallen had not Benee seized him in his iron grasp and brought him again to his equilibrium.

Then he spoke a few words in Bolivian, and made signs that he wished to eat and drink.

"Aguardiente!" said the officer, his eyes sparkling with joy.

He had really harboured some intentions of throwing Benee into the tumble-down old prison, but a drink would be a far better solution of the difficulty, and he cheerfully led the way to a sort of hotel.

And in twenty minutes' time this truly intelligent member of the force and Benee were lying on skin mats with apparently all the good things in this life spread out before them.

The officer was curious, as all such men are, whether heathens or not, to know all about Benee, and put to him a score of questions at least, part of which Benee replied to with a delicate and forgivable fib.

So the policeman was but little wiser at the end of the conversation than he was at the beginning.

About half an hour before sunset, Benee was once more far up on the moorlands, and making straight for the place where he had hidden his guns and ammunition.

But he stopped short and stared with astonishment when, before rounding the corner of the wood, a pistol shot rang out in the quiet air, followed by the most terrible shrieking and howling he had ever listened to.