Henty George Alfred
With Cochrane the Dauntless
“Pita is a fine-looking Indian, Gomez.”
“Yes, señor; he is a mixture, that is, he is of pure Indian blood, but he belongs to two tribes. His father was a native of one of the villages highest up among the hills. He too was a hunter and guide. In one of his journeys down in the plain country he married the daughter of one of the chiefs of the wild Indians, and Pita was their son. I don’t know which tribe it was that his mother belonged to, but I know that they lived in the forests on one of the greater rivers. Pita is not one who talks much of himself, or who talks much at all, but I know that he has the reputation of being one of the most daring hunters and guides in the country, and that he has gone through many adventures while travelling with traders. He has always been trustworthy and faithful to his employers. As he says, he cannot promise to take you safely down the Madeira, but if any man can do it, he will.”
Half an hour later they returned to the hut, where the Indian was sitting in precisely the same attitude in which they had left him.
“Well, Pita, have you arrived at a conclusion?” Gomez asked.
“I have thought it over,” he said, “and I calculate that it may be a year before I return, and the risk is great. Can the señor afford to pay three hundred and sixty-five dollars? That is for the services of myself and my comrade. He has no wife or family, and will therefore need less pay than I, who will have to leave money behind for mine. The señor will be at no other expense until he arrives at Barra, except for such things as tea and sugar, and any liquor he may wish to put on board at starting. If the señor cannot afford that, I will guide him down along by the foot of the mountains until we can cross over into Chili. It will be an arduous journey, but without perils, and we shall pass through few villages.”
“How long will that take, Pita?”
“It would be a long journey, señor. As a bird flies it would be seven or eight hundred miles; but winding round the foot of the hills it would be two thousand.”
“I would rather try the other, Pita,” Stephen replied; for the thought of the passage by water through unknown forests, and then down the Amazon, exercised a strong fascination over him, and the idea of a toilsome journey of two thousand miles was the reverse of attractive. The war was, he was sure, nearly over. He might arrive in Chili only to find that the admiral had gone away; and even when he reached the frontier he had another journey to make before he reached Valparaiso, whereas when he arrived at Para he could sail direct for England.
“I could afford to pay you the terms you ask,” he went on, “and shall still have enough left to take me from Barra home.”
“Then, so be it,” the Indian said; “to-morrow we will start for Paucartambo, which lies but a few miles from the Mayutata. We shall pass through Cuzco on our way. You have arms, I see, señor?”
“Yes, and some ammunition, but I shall want a larger supply before we start.”
At daybreak next morning they set out, the Indian walking ahead. Once or twice Stephen pushed his mule forward to endeavour to enter into conversation, but he could get but few words from him, and had to drop back to Gomez, who was willing enough to talk.
“It is no use trying to get anything out of Pita, señor. If you can get him in the mood by a camp fire, he may tell you some of his adventures; but the natives are not given to talking overmuch, and Pita, when he is once on his way as guide, will go on without saying a word for hours. I have made several journeys with him, and it is always the same. Of course there is nothing for him to look after here, but it is a sort of habit. I have no doubt that he could tell you how many birds have crossed the road to-day. He has noticed every lizard, could tell you where a mule belonging to the last party has made a false step, how many there were travelling together, and all about them. He takes it all in; and though here it might just as well be left alone, this watchfulness might save your life afterwards.”
Day after day they journeyed on. Stephen did not enter Cuzco. As the capital of the Incas he felt an interest in it, but cared little for it as a great Spanish town whose glory had almost departed; and it was not worth running any risk when nothing was to be gained by visiting it. He therefore remained at Pita’s Indian hut a few miles away, while Gomez went into the town with the guide to get the stores they required. Pita’s comrade returned with them. Stephen was greatly surprised at the man’s appearance. Pita himself was, for an Indian, tall; he was spare in frame, but very sinewy; his muscles stood up beneath the brown skin like cords. Hurka was so short that he was almost a dwarf, and, save for his face, he might have been taken for a boy of fourteen. He possessed none of Pita’s gravity, but was soon laughing and chatting with the Indian’s wife and children, and was evidently a special favourite with them. His face was bright and intelligent.
“You would not think, señor,” Gomez said as, after telling him what they had purchased in the city, he stood watching Hurka, who was running backwards and forwards between the hut and the mules, carrying in packages, “that that little chap is one of the best guides on this side of the Andes. He and Pita are, I should say, the two best; and whenever they can, they work together. He is a wonderful shot—better than Pita. He can swim like a fish; and he does not seem to know what fatigue is. He and Pita are like brothers, although they are so different in their ways; and it is wonderful to see how they get on together. I would not mind where I went with them, for they can find their way through the thickest forest, and are up to every device that can be useful to travellers. I have never heard of their losing anyone under their charge, except, of course, from disease and heat, and perhaps a few shot by Indians. That is a thing that may always happen, there is no guarding against it—especially when you have got men with you who will go their own way, and make light of any idea of taking precautions. Sometimes they have had to fall back altogether when they have been with gold or treasure seekers, but never when they were with trading parties.
“In the forest country the natives are generally ready enough to trade, but there are parts where they never allow a white party to penetrate. Whether it is that there is really a treasure, or an extraordinary rich gold-mine, or whether it is only that in some sections the tribes are more hostile than in others, no one knows for certain, but there is no doubt that when any party approaches certain localities troubles begin directly. As they go through the forest, arrows come flying thick through the tangle of creepers, and poisoned darts from blow-pipes. The foes are invisible, but they make themselves felt, and it soon breaks down the courage of the bravest to be shot at when you never get a chance of shooting back in return. Both Pita and Hurka have been with parties that have been attacked and forced to fall back; but it has not been their fault, for they always warn those who employ them that the dangers are too great to be overcome. Still, men who think that they have got a clue to hidden wealth always seem to consider that their guides are interested in preventing their getting it, and will listen to no advice till they find out for themselves that the danger has not been exaggerated, and that it is certain death to push on further.”
“I wonder that neither of them has been killed,” Stephen said.
“It is a wonder, señor, and some have even declared that they must be in league with the Indians; but it is due to their understanding the native way of fighting. While white men stand up and fire away into the bush, they quickly throw themselves down behind the trunk of a tree, and then crawl into the forest and fight in the same way as the Indians do; and they say that more than once those two alone have made the natives fall back, and so enabled the whites to retreat. You will see that they will both take bows and arrows with them; and though they would use their rifles if openly attacked, in these battles in the forests, or when hunting in dangerous neighbourhoods, they use their bows in preference to the rifles.”
The next day the journey was continued, and in ten days they reached a stream which, as the Indians told Stephen, ran into the Beni, one of the principal feeders of the Madeira. Here was a village occupied wholly by Indians and half-castes. A large canoe was purchased, and the loads of the two mules stowed in it, a store of bread and fruit was obtained from the natives, together with ten skins sewn up as bags, and intended to be inflated and used for the construction of a raft. Two days were spent in making their preparations, and then Stephen took leave of Gomez, to whom he gave a handsome present, in addition to the sum that had been agreed upon. By this time Stephen had come to appreciate the good qualities of Hurka, whose unfailingly good temper and gaiety had lightened the journey, and whose humorous stories of his adventures, and of the obstinacy and folly of his employers, raised a smile even on the impassive face of Pita.
Stephen was delighted when the canoe pushed out into the stream, and they began their journey down the thousands of miles of river that had to be traversed before they reached the eastern sea-coast. Pita sat in the stern of the canoe, Hurka in the bow, while Stephen had a comfortable seat in the middle, separated from them by two piles of stores and provisions. Over him was a roof of green boughs, supported by four poles, connected by others, to which a thin curtain of cotton-stuff was attached. It was all made in one piece, and was rolled up in the daytime to allow the passage of air, but at night could be dropped all round so as to form a protection against insects and the vapours from the water. The tent was large enough for the three men to sleep in comfortably; and in the centre was a small stove, in which fire was kept burning for cooking purposes in the daytime, and to counteract the dampness of the air at night. As soon as it was dark, and the insects became troublesome, the Indians threw on the fire branches that they cut fresh every day from shrubs growing on the banks. This caused a pungent odour which effectually prevented insects from making their way in through the leafy roof.
During the daytime the canoe was generally kept close to one shore or the other, so as to be under the shade of the overhanging forest trees; at night they sometimes tied up to a tree, but more often one or other of the Indians sat in the stern of the boat giving an occasional stroke with his paddle to keep her drifting down in the centre of the current. While it was light they always had their guns close at hand, and sometimes brought down a bird from the trees overhead. Baited hooks on a long line were towed astern. They seldom caught anything during the day, but at night they frequently captured a few fish. This, however, was more often done by spearing them, the Indians having bought spears for the purpose at the village. On these occasions Stephen took his place in the bow with two lighted torches of resinous wood; the light attracted the fish, which were speared by the Indians, who seldom missed striking them, however far beneath the surface, though Stephen failed even to catch sight of them.
The fish formed the main staple of their food, helped out by the birds, which were, for the most part, of the pigeon tribe, though larger and differing much in plumage from the English species. They had brought from Cuzco a hundred pounds of flour, which was sewed up in two skins, so that in case of a misfortune to the canoe it would be uninjured by water. From this the Indians made flat cakes, which were an excellent substitute for bread.
For the first ten days Hurka while paddling generally sung Spanish songs that he had picked up, but gradually he ceased doing so, and became as taciturn as Pita himself.
“The Indians on this part of the river,” he told Stephen, “are generally of a peaceful nature, and are quite willing to trade, but, as we have no merchandise, they would look upon us with some suspicion; and, moreover, the tribes are often at war with each other, and in that case it is always better that travellers should avoid them. Consequently it is better to travel silently.”
For the same reason they generally timed themselves so as to pass the Indian villages at night, the fire on such occasions being kept very low, and ashes being drawn up over the embers so as to completely extinguish the light until the village was well behind them. Shooting was, for the time, entirely given up.
CHAPTER XVII.
DOWN THE RIVER
The time passed pleasantly to Stephen as he reclined on a heap of skins and blankets watching the forests that bordered the stream, or looking up through the overhanging canopy at the birds and monkeys, the latter of which afforded him great amusement by the way in which they chattered and gesticulated. The mothers with the little ones climbed to the top of the trees, while the males came boldly out on the lower branches to bid defiance to those in the boat. Often he slept, for the heat, and the almost noiseless fall of the paddles, and the tranquil easy motion of the canoe made him exceptionally drowsy. One day his eye fell upon something on a large branch of a tree that bent down to within twelve feet of the water. It was only some ten yards ahead when he noticed it. It was partly hidden by foliage, and for a moment it seemed to him to be a thickening of the branch. He would have passed it without a thought had it not been for a slight movement; then a glance showed him that it was an animal of some kind lying almost flattened upon the tree.
He caught up his rifle just as it rose to a crouching attitude, and was upon the point of springing upon Pita. The gun was loaded with shot only, but as he threw up the muzzle and fired almost instantly, the beast gave a terrible roar. Its spring was arrested, and it fell headlong into the water within a foot of the side of the boat. A tawny head, with two rows of big white teeth, arose from the water almost abreast of him, and a great paw was raised to strike at the boat, but Hurka’s rifle cracked out, and the animal sank again below the water.
“You have saved my life, señor,” Pita said gravely. “It was a jaguar, and had you not fired it would have struck me down and crushed in my skull with a blow of its paw. I wonder I did not see it, but I was thinking at the time that we had best tie up for an hour or two so as to pass the next village, which is a large one, after dark.”
“It was almost hidden among those leaves,” Stephen said, “and had it not moved I should not have noticed it.”
“I think you blinded it, señor,” Hurka said. “I saw it rise to spring, and snatched at my rifle just as you fired. I think the charge struck it between the eyes, for I saw a sort of blur there just as it fell. I should have been too late; for though I might have hit it as it was in the air, it would assuredly have come down on Pita.
“It was not like you, Pita. This comes of thinking while you are paddling instead of keeping your eyes on everything.”
“I was wrong,” the Indian replied. “I should have known that an attack by a jaguar was always possible; but this is the first that we have seen since starting, and I had no thought of danger in my mind. I will be more careful in the future. It must have been well hidden, for you did not see it yourself, Hurka, until it moved for its spring.”
“That is true,” the little Indian replied. “The Englishman’s eyes must be quick indeed, and his nerve steady. It was seeing him catch up his gun that first called my attention to it. You have laid us both under a great obligation, señor, for Pita is my best friend, and were aught to befall him I should feel that I had lost part of myself. Perhaps before the journey comes to an end we may be able to show you how grateful we are.”
“It is nothing worth talking about,” Stephen said. “In a journey like this, comrades may well save each other’s lives more than once.”
“That is true, señor; but it is our duty to save your life if need be, and it is turning the tables upon us for you to be the means of saving ours. However, you will not find us lacking when the time comes. Already we have agreed that this time of all others we must carry our business through successfully. You are not like those Spaniards. To them we are Indian dogs, mere dust under their feet, a people whose services they buy as they buy those of our mules; but you have treated us as if we had been comrades of the same colour as you yourself, have insisted upon our eating with you, and have talked with us as if we were friends together; and you will find that it is so if danger arises. We Indians are not accustomed to kindness or consideration from our Spanish masters. Could they do without us they would not suffer an Indian to exist in the land; but they need our labour, and so bear with us. But we, on our part, never forget that our ancestors were lords of this country, that they received these white strangers with kindness, and were repaid by the grossest treachery and ingratitude, and that, not contented with seizing our land and our possessions, they murdered all our princes and leaders, and reduced all whom they did not slay to slavery, keeping us only that we might work the mines and till the fields for them.
“Centuries have passed since then, but there has been no change; they are still our masters, we their beasts of burden. They may pay us for our services, but they have no thought or consideration for us. We may risk our lives for them, but they value ours no more than if we were dogs. Save among the muleteers, like Gomez, who long ago ceased to be Spaniards, and are now Peruvians, they look upon us as a conquered race, and as to friendship or a kindly thought for an Indian, they think more of their dogs than they do of us. Therefore, señor, you may guess that Pita and I do not feel towards you only as a master who pays us, but as one who has treated us as if we were the same colour as himself, and even the service you have rendered Pita binds us less to you than the kindness that you have shown us. If all Englishmen are like you it would be a blessing indeed to this country if, after your famous admiral had driven out the Spaniards, he would himself reign over the land and bring some of his people here to govern us.
“The white Peruvians are no better than the Spaniards. They are the same blood, and have the same ideas, and save that they are cowards, while the Spaniards, to do them justice, are often brave, there is little to choose between them. They are as proud of their white blood, and they despise us as heartily; they are as greedy of gold, but too indolent to work for it; and when the Spaniards have gone they will be despots as hard and as tyrannical as our present governors. We hope for the change, though we know well that it will do but little for us; while, if the people of your race came as masters of the land, we might have some share of freedom and happiness. Tales have reached even us that across the western ocean you rule over a people dark like ourselves, but infinitely more numerous than we were when the Spaniards first set foot here; and that your rule is a good and just one, and that the natives are happy and contented, and that there are the same laws for them as for us. Do you think, señor, that there is any chance of your admiral and your people coming here?”
“I am afraid not, Hurka. We English here are in the service of Chili. We are free ourselves, and our sympathies are with all men who are struggling to be free; but we have no idea of conquest here, and were Peru to offer to come under our rule we should not accept it. We have already wide possessions in North America and elsewhere, and need no further territories, especially in a climate that is unfitted for us. We might rule it as we do India, but the Peruvians would never be contented, and we should never attempt to keep them in subjection did they wish us gone. India, the country you speak of, is inhabited by many races and religions. Before we went, there were incessant wars, and were we to leave they would at once recommence. The people, then, feel that our rule is a real benefit, and that they are far happier under it than they were under their native rulers. When we went there we had no thought of conquering it; we only went there to trade. It was because we were attacked that we defended ourselves, and there are still portions of the country that are altogether independent, and so long as the native sovereigns leave us alone we are well contented that things should remain as they are. We do not enrich ourselves at the expense of the natives. They have to pay taxes to keep up the expenses of the army and administration there, but England draws no revenue from India. It does not, as Spain did, enrich itself with the plunder of the land; and it is free to people of all nations to trade there as we do ourselves. Individuals may gain wealth there by commerce, or by the growth of indigo and other things that we cannot raise at home, but as a nation we obtain no revenue whatever from India. The army there is for the most part raised from the people, who are free to enlist or not as they please, and who fight as faithfully for us as they would have done for their own rulers.”
“Then what do you gain by being there?” Hurka asked.
“We gain in the trade that is carried on by our merchants selling English goods there, and buying Indian produce. The army and the civil government furnish employment to large numbers of Englishmen. These are the only material advantages that, so far as I know, we gain; although of course it is a matter of pride and satisfaction to Englishmen that they rule over so great a country, and that our presence there is of enormous advantage to the people.”
“And are there no gold or silver mines there?” Pita asked.
“No; at any rate nothing that has been worked since we went there.”
“Ah, if you would but come here,” Hurka exclaimed, “what a blessing it would be to us! and I am sure that the Indians, when they knew that they would be fairly treated, would no longer preserve the secrets of the Incas, but would gladly open to you mines that have been hidden ever since the Spaniards came, and hand over vast treasures that have been left untouched all these years. They are useless to them, and are hidden only because they hate the Spaniards, and know that did they discover these mines they would compel the people to work at them as their fathers did; and ere long we should disappear altogether.”
While they had been talking they had floated quietly down the stream, and Pita said that they were now but a few miles from the next village, and had better tie up until darkness came on.
“Have you any desire for gold, señor?” Hurka asked, after they had secured the canoe to an overhanging branch, and the two Indians had rolled and lighted their cigarettes.
“Not particularly, Hurka. I suppose everyone would like gold; but I have already enough to live upon, having been very fortunate in aiding to capture a vessel carrying a large sum for the payment of the Spanish troops. If I were to search for gold it would be rather for the sake of the adventure than for the treasure.”
“You are the first white man I have ever met, señor, who would not undertake any risk in order to gain a fortune, and the richest are as ready to adventure their gold in any enterprise that promises even a chance of success, as the poorest are willing to risk their lives.”
“The adventure itself would be very exciting,” Stephen said, “and I do not say that I should not like to take part in one, just as I am glad to have the chance of such an adventure as going down the Amazon; but it would certainly be the excitement, and not the chance of making money, that would attract me. I don’t say for a moment that I should refuse a share in the treasure, only that I would not run any great risks for the sake of the treasure alone. I suppose that every one could do with more than he has; for even if you have nothing to wish for, it would at least be a pleasure to give it away.
“I have been fortunate; although I am still very young. I have been through a great many adventures, and if I were to settle quietly down at home now, I have more to look back upon than most men.”
Day after day they floated down, sometimes on a broad tranquil sheet with a scarce perceptible current, and at others in a rapid headlong stream pent up between narrow banks. The volume of water had vastly increased since they started, owing to the number of streams that had flowed into the Beni, some of these being so large that they would be considered good-sized rivers in Europe. At last, a month after starting, Hurka said that next day they would reach the confluence of the Beni and the Madeira.
“There is a mission-station there, and if the señor likes to pause there for a day or two before descending the river he can do so.”
“Not at all, Hurka. In the first place I shall be asked a great many questions which would be difficult to answer, and in the second, even two days in a mission-station would be frightfully dull.”
“Very well, señor, then we will pass straight into the river and halt a few hours’ journey further down.”
“Why should we halt at all?”
“We shall want to construct a raft, señor. There are many dangerous rapids in the Madeira besides the falls, and the river is beginning to rise. You were noticing yesterday how thick the water had become, and some of the streams that run into it are laden with mud. That shows that the rain has begun on the western slopes. The Madeira is generally in flood two days before the Beni, and the water will be running down in a great stream; therefore it will be necessary to make our raft. We need not desert the canoe, but can let it float alongside of us, or we can haul it on to the raft; it will be convenient for sleeping in.”
“We had better land at once and make our raft,” Pita said, “before we reach the Madeira. I know of no high bank for a very long distance after we have entered the great river where we could manage it.”
“Then by all means let us do so at once,” Stephen said, “and perhaps we may get some sport.”
Accordingly the boat was headed towards shore. When they reached the side they found that the Beni itself had risen, and the bank, usually seven or eight feet out of water, was now little more than a foot above its level.
“You may get some birds,” Hurka said, “but nothing else. The instinct of the beasts tells them that the river is nearly full, and doubtless indeed the low-lying parts of the forest are already submerged. They will be off before this, and will travel on till they come to ground that is always above the floods. Some will, doubtless, be caught and perish. Such as climb will take to trees, but hunger will destroy them.”
“How far do the floods extend?”
“In some places a hundred miles, and on the Amazon itself, as I have heard, a great deal further.”
They paddled along close to the bank until they reached a spot where it was bordered by a vast number of reeds, many of them as thick as Stephen’s arm.
“Now we are going to make our raft,” Hurka said. “These reeds are far better than solid branches. They are very light, and we fasten them but loosely together, so that they can give to the water. When we have made it, we shall then want four young saplings. These we shall lash together firmly in a square, and under each corner we fasten the skins, and one also in the middle of each pole; you know we have brought eight with us. First we make the raft itself with the rushes. It is made about four feet larger each way than the frame with the skins. This frame is laid in the raft, and is fastened loosely to it. Thus you see the raft itself is complete without the poles and skins, which, so long as it holds together, simply rest on it, but if the raft gets broken up the skins will support the poles. We generally lash a few cross poles to the frame, and on these we sit, for the water splashes up between the reeds, making everything wet. As we are going to take our canoe with us, we shall not want the cross poles, but shall lay her on the reeds and get on board her. We shall pick out the largest reeds we can get to place under the spot where she will lie, and shall only get out of the boat when it is necessary to go to the front or sides of the raft to pole her off from any floating tree or other danger.”
It took them two days to complete the raft, the second day’s work being carried on afloat, for the stream rose very rapidly. The lashings of the reeds were of leather thongs, so tied that while they were held firmly in their places there was a great deal of play, an advantage that Stephen discovered as soon as they were afloat again on the stream. The rapidity with which the river was running raised it in a series of sharp waves, and a rigid raft would have had one end or the other constantly immersed. The raft, however, undulated with the water almost as a carpet of the same size would have done, the lashings of the buoyant reeds permitting each side to rise and fall, while the structure upon it lifted or fell with the motion. The canoe half floated and was half supported by the raft below it, and Stephen was surprised to find how slight the motion was even in the broken water. Presently the two Indians left the canoe, and seating themselves on the poles, paddled towards the shore to the left, and getting out of the current made their way along the edge of the forest.
“We are close now,” Hurka said, “to the Madeira, and the struggle of the two swollen rivers will raise a turmoil so great that even this raft might break up in the waves.”
