In Far Bolivia - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Yes, Bill was burly, but Brawn fairly rolled him over 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't you glad that Bill has returned? Wouff! What would life be worth anyhow without Bill?
Wouff--wouff--wow!"
But the last wow ended in a low growl, as Peter himself stood smiling at the opening.
"Why, Mr. Peter, we thought you were lost!" cried d.i.c.k.
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 a morsel to eat?"
"Sit down," cried d.i.c.k. "Steward!"
"Yes, sah; to be surely, sah. Dinner foh Ma.s.sa Peter? One moment, sah."
Mr. Peter was laughing now, but he had seated himself on the withered gra.s.s as far as possible from Brawn.
"I must say that three hours in a tree-top gives one the devil's own appet.i.te," he began. "I had gone to take a stroll in the forest, you know--"
"Yes," said Roland, "we do know."
Mr. Peter looked a little crestfallen, but said pointedly enough: "If you do know, there is no need for me to tell you."
"Oh, yes, go on!" cried d.i.c.k.
"Well then, I had not gone half a mile, and was just lighting up a cigarette, when Brawn came down on me, and I had barely time to spring into the tree before he reached the foot of it. There I waited as patiently as Job would have done--thank you, steward, what a splendid Irish stew!--till by and by--a precious long by and by--your boys came to look for Brawn, and in finding Brawn they found poor famis.h.i.+ng me.
Thank you, Bill, I'll be glad of a little wine."
"Looking for Brawn, they found you, eh!" said Roland. "I should have put it differ--"
But d.i.c.k punched Roland's leg, and Roland laughed and said no more.
Two days after the arrival of Burly Bill an order was given for general embarkation. All under their several officers were inspected on the river bank, and to each group was allotted a station in boat or canoe.
The head men or captains from whom Bill had hired the transport were in every instance retained, but a large number of Roland's own Indians were most expert rowers, and therefore to take others would only serve to load the vessels uncomfortably, not to say dangerously.
But peons or paddlers to the number of two or four to each large canoe their several captains insisted on having.
The inspection on the bank was a kind of "muster by open list", and Roland was exceedingly pleased with the result, for not a man or boy was missing.
It was a delightful day when the expedition was at last got under way.
Roland and d.i.c.k, with Peter, to say nothing of Brawn, occupied the after-cabin in a canoe of very light draught, but really a twelve-tonner. The cabin was, of course, both dining-room and sleeping berth--the lounges being skins of buffaloes and of wild beasts, but all clean and sweet.
The cabin itself was built of bamboo and bamboo leaves lined with very light skins, so overlapping as to make the cabin perfectly dry.
Our heroes had arranged about light, and candles were brought out as soon as daylight began to fade.
Then the canoes were paddled towards the bank or into some beautiful reach or back-water, and there made fast for the night with padlock and chain.
Roland and d.i.c.k had their own reasons for taking such strict precautions.
The first day pa.s.sed without a single adventure worth relating.
The paddlers or peons, of whom there were seven on each side of our hero's huge canoe, worked together well. They oftentimes sang or chanted a wild indescribable kind of boat-lilt, to which the sound of the paddles was an excellent accompaniment, but now and then the captain would shout: "Choorka--choorka!" which, from the excitement the words caused, evidently meant "Sweep her up!" and then the vessel seemed 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 _Burnley Hall_, as Roland's boat was called, nearly always left the others astern.
Dinner was cooked on sh.o.r.e, and nearly everyone landed at night. Only our heroes stuck to their boat.
There were moon and stars at present, and very pleasant it was to sit, or rather lie, at their open-sided cabin, 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 of grief lying deep down in the hearts of both Roland and d.i.c.k; the ever-abiding anxiety, the one question they kept asking themselves constantly, and which could not be answered, "Shall we be in time to save poor Peggy?"
Mr. Peter slept on sh.o.r.e.
Brawn kept him company. Kept untiring watch over him. And two faithful and well-armed Indians lay in the bush at a convenient distance.
In a previous chapter I have mentioned an ex-cannibal Bolivian, whom Roland had made up his mind 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 to the pole.
On the third evening of the voyage, just as Roland and d.i.c.k, with Bill, were enjoying an after-dinner lounge in an open glade not far from the river brink, the moon s.h.i.+ning so brightly that the smallest of type could easily have been read by young eyes, he suddenly appeared in their midst.
"What cheer, Charlie?" said Roland kindly. "Come, squat thee down, and we will give you a tiny toothful of aguardiente."
"Touchee me he, no, no!" was the reply. "He catchee de bref too muchee.
Smokee me, notwidstanding," he added.
It was one of Charlie's peculiarities that if he could once get hold of a big word or two, he planted them in his conversation whenever he thought he had a favourable opening.
An ex-cannibal Charlie was, and he came from the great western unexplored district of Bolivia.
He confessed that although fond of "de pig ob de forest (tapir), de tail ob de 'gator, and de big haboo-snake when roast," there was nothing in all the world so satisfactory as "de fles' ob a small boy. Yum, yum! it was goodee, goodee notwidstanding, and make bof him ear crack and him 'tumack feel wa'm."
Charlie lit up his cigarette, and then commenced to explain the reason of his visit.
"What you callee dat?" he said, handing Burly Bill a few large purple berries of a species of th.o.r.n.y laurel.
"Why," said Bill, "these are the fruit of the lanton-tree, used for poisoning arrow-tips."