The Wanderers; Or, Adventures in the Wilds of Trinidad and Orinoco

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  UNCLE PAUL'S RETURN--WE EMBARK--OVERTAKEN BY A FURIOUS GALE--OURPROVISIONS WASHED AWAY--JOSE'S DEATH--BURIAL AT SEA--OUR SUFFERINGS--ABREEZE--A SAIL--DISAPPOINTMENT--CATCHING FISH.

  Another day passed, and we became more and more anxious for the returnof our uncle and cousin. Sometimes our father talked of going back andbraving the worst; and sometimes he seemed eager to embark, to get clearaway from the island in which his once bright hopes had been socompletely destroyed. Frequently he spoke as if all happiness in lifefor him was over, and seemed only to wish for death as an end to hissorrows. He felt greatly the loss of our mother; and that alone wouldhave been sufficient to cast him down. But he was also, it was evident,dissatisfied with himself. How could it be otherwise, when he reflectedthat he had, by his own act, brought his present misfortunes uponhimself? We, however, did not and could not complain; and dear Mariandid her utmost to soothe and comfort him, telling him in a quiet way totrust in God, and that all would be well.

  "But I have not trusted in God; I have only trusted in myself," answeredour father bitterly, "and I have, in consequence, been terriblydeceived."

  Though neither Marian nor I could offer sufficient consolation, we didall we could to keep him from going back, and were thus, at all events,of use.

  Several times during the day I went down to the beach and looked alongthe shore, in the hope of seeing the boat coming; but neither did sheappear, nor was any sail in sight. Tim would not leave his post, evenfor the sake of getting some birds for our larder, but kept guard uponJose; who, it was evident, he thought would run off should he find anopportunity.

  "If once we get on salt water, the spalpeen may go and give all theinformation he chooses; though it would be a pity to let him show thissnug little hiding-place, in case some other honest folks might wish totake possession of it," he said to me. "I should just like to take himwith us, if I wouldn't rather be without his company."

  We had been for some time shut up in our retreat that night, with theentrance carefully closed. Marian had retired to her hut, and ourfather to one we had built for him; Jose was lying asleep, or pretendingto be so; while Tim sat up with me, it being my watch,--when we heard aslight sound, as of persons approaching the spot. The fire was burningbrightly, so that we could easily have been seen by those who might findtheir way to the entrance. My anxiety was relieved, however, by thevoice of Uncle Paul; and he soon appeared, followed by Arthur and Camo.

  "We have no time to lose," he said, after he had inquired if all hadgone well. "We have been able to purchase a boat; and though she is notso large as I could wish, she will carry us all. We have brought herdown to the mouth of the river, where she is moored in safety; also somecasks of water, and all the provisions we have been able to procure. Weshould embark at once, so as to be away from the land before morningdawns."

  Our father, who had been sleeping lightly, awoke on hearing Uncle Paul'svoice, and he seemed well-satisfied with the arrangements which had beenmade. "I am perfectly ready to start, and shall rejoice to get awayfrom this unhappy country," he added.

  I awoke Marian, who was equally ready to start; and we at once set towork to pack up all the provisions we had collected. With these weloaded ourselves, Jose taking one of the heaviest packages.

  "You will accompany us," said my father to him. "If you have the regardfor me you profess, you will willingly go; and should we hear favourableaccounts of the progress of events in the island, you will be able toreturn, should you wish it."

  "It is my wish to obey you, senor," answered Jose. "Had it not been forSenor Guy and Tim, I should have been killed by that dreadful serpent;and I am thankful to them for saving my life."

  "Notwithstanding all he says, I will keep an eye on him," whispered Timto me. "If he tries to give us leg-bail, I will be after him, and showhim that I have as good a pair of heels as he has."

  We were quickly ready; and having extinguished the fire, to prevent therisk of it spreading to the forest, we all set out,--Camo leading theway, Arthur assisting Marion, while Tim and I brought up the rear.

  "Stop a moment," said Camo, when we all got outside. "I will close theentrance, so that no strangers may find it." Putting down his load, hedrew together the bushes amid which we had passed, as had been ourcustom from the first.

  We walked in silence through the wood till we got down to the seashore,when, continuing along it for nearly a mile, we at length reached alittle harbour formed by a bay at the mouth of the river. Here we foundthe boat, with the two natives guarding her. She appeared, indeed, verysmall for the long voyage we contemplated, though sufficiently large tohold all our party. Uncle Paul was the only seafaring person among us,for in his early days he had been a sailor; but my cousin and I, as wellas Tim and Jose, could row, so that should the weather prove calm wemight still be able to make good way.

  Camo and the other two natives would willingly have accompanied us; butit not being necessary for them to leave the island, as there was butlittle danger of their being captured provided they kept concealed, myfather and uncle had agreed that it would be better to leave thembehind. They shed tears as they assisted us to load the boat and badeus farewell.

  The oars were got out, and Uncle Paul gave the order to shove off; then,getting her head round, we pulled down the river. There was but littlewind, and that was off the shore, so that the water at its mouth wasperfectly smooth. Bending to our oars, we pulled out to sea; and as weleft the shore astern, we all breathed more freely than we had done formany a day. We had, at all events, escaped from the dreadedInquisition, and we thought, in comparison, but little of the dangersbefore us. Having got some distance from the shore we felt the breezecome stronger, and Uncle Paul desired us to step the mast and hoist thesail, when we glided much more rapidly through the water than we haddone when rowing. The weather, too, promised to be fine, and Uncle Paulcheered us up by saying that he hoped we should fall in with a vesselduring the morning; if not, he proposed steering a course for Tobago.

  The boat was pretty well loaded with provisions and water, so that therewas not much space for lying down. We managed, however, to fit a smallcabin for Marian in the afterpart with a spare sail, into which shecould retire to rest. The task of navigating the boat fell most heavilyon Uncle Paul, as neither Arthur nor I were accustomed to steer, whileTim and Jose knew nothing about the matter. Uncle, therefore, did notlike us to take the helm.

  We glided on till the shores of the island could scarcely beperceived,--the weather having been remarkably fine ever since we hadleft home. Just before dawn, however, there were signs of it changing;and as the sun rose from its ocean-bed it looked like a huge globe offire, diffusing a ruddy glow throughout the sky, and tingeing with alurid hue the edges of the rapidly gathering clouds. The wind came infitful gusts for some time from the westward; but soon after Uncle Paulhad put the boat's head to the north, it suddenly shifted, and began toblow with considerable violence from that quarter. We had then, underhis directions, to close-reef the sail; but even thus it was more thanthe boat could bear. In vain did we try to beat to windward.

  "We shall make no way in the direction we wish to go," said Uncle Paulat length. "We must either run before it, or stand back to the coast wehave left, and try to enter some river or harbour where we can findshelter till the gale has passed."

  My father was very unwilling to return to the island, fearing that weshould be suspected by the authorities of any place where we might land,and be delivered into the hands of the government.

  We were now steering to the southward, in a direction exactly oppositeto what we wished, but the sea had got up so much, and the wind blew soviolently, that it was the only one in which the boat could be steeredwith safety. The more the sea got up, the more necessary it became tocarry sail, to avoid being swamped by the heavy waves which rolled upastern.

  Poor Uncle Paul had now been steering for some hours, but he could nottrust the helm to anyone else. The win
d continuing to increase, astronger gust than we had before felt struck the sail. In an instantboth it and the mast, which had given way, were carried overboard; andbefore we could secure them, they were lost. On this, Uncle Paulordered us to get out the oars, and to pull for our lives. We did as hedirected; but notwithstanding our efforts several seas which rolled upbroke into the boat, carrying away all our water-casks and the largerportion of our provisions. While Arthur and Tim rowed, my father, Jose,and I, aided by Marian, set to work to bail out the boat, and it waswith the greatest difficulty we could keep her clear.

  Our position had now become extremely critical. Uncle Paul kept as calmas at first, directing us what to do; but I knew by the tone of hisvoice that he had great fears for our safety. Indeed, had the galecontinued to increase, no human power could have saved us.Providentially, after the last violent blast it began to subside; butthe sea was still too high to allow us to make headway against it. Assoon as we had somewhat cleared the boat of water, Jose and I resumedour oars; but, notwithstanding all our efforts, the summits of thefoaming waves occasionally broke aboard, and we had to recommencebailing.

  We were thus employed when Uncle Paul cried out,--"Take to your oars!Pull--pull away for your lives!" We did our utmost, but the top ofanother heavy sea, like a mountain, which rolled up astern, broke aboardand carried away nearly the whole of our remaining stock of provisions;and had not Uncle Paul at the moment grasped hold of Marian, she alsowould, I believe, have been washed away. Another such sea wouldspeedily have swamped us. We, of course, had again to bail away withall our might; but it took some time before the boat could be cleared ofwater. When we at length got her to rights, and looked round for ouroars, we found, to our dismay, that both Jose's and mine had beencarried overboard, thus leaving only two with which to pull on the boat;while we had only the small sail which had formed the covering toMarian's cabin.

  The gale continued for two days longer; and it seemed surprising that myyoung sister, poor girl, should have survived the hardships she had toendure. One small cask, only partly full of water, remained, with twopackages of dried manatee flesh, and a few oranges and other fruits,--which were, besides, fast spoiling. Uncle Paul served them out with thegreatest care; giving Marian, however, a larger portion than the rest ofus--though he did not tell her so, lest she should refuse to take it.Our poor father lay in the bottom of the boat, so prostrated, that hadwe not propped him up and fed him, he would soon have succumbed. Josewas in even a worse condition. He evidently had not recovered from theinjuries he had received in the coils of the anaconda; and when I askedUncle Paul if he thought he would recover, he shook his head.

  "He will be the first among us to go," he answered in a most dispiritedway. Jose was groaning, crouched down in the bows of the boat. Tim'scompassionate heart was moved; he went and placed himself by his side.

  "Cheer up," he said. "We may fall in with a vessel before long, when weshall have plenty of grub, and you will soon get all to rights."

  "No, no!" groaned Jose; "my doom is fixed; it serves me right, for Iintended to betray you for the sake of the reward I expected to receive.I am dying--I know it; but I wish that I had a priest to whom I mightconfess my sins, and die in peace."

  "Confess them, my friend, to One who is ready to hear the sinner whocomes to Him--our great High Priest in heaven," answered Tim, who, likemost Irish Protestants, was well instructed in the truths ofChristianity. "Depend on it, all here are ready to forgive you the harmyou intended them; and if so, our loving Father in heaven is athousandfold more willing, if you will go to Him."

  Jose only groaned; I was afraid that he did not clearly understand whatTim said, so Arthur endeavoured to explain the matter.

  "God allows all those who turn to Him, and place their faith in theall-perfect atonement of His blessed Son, to come boldly to the throneof grace, without the intervention of any human being," he said.

  "I see! I see!" said the dying man. "What a blessed truth is that!How dreadful would otherwise be our fate out here on the ocean, withoutthe possibility of getting a priest to whom to confess our sins."

  I, of course, give a mere outline of what I heard, and cannot pretend totranslate exactly what they said. Jose, however, appeared muchcomforted.

  The wind had by this time entirely gone down, and the sea was becomingsmoother and smoother. At length night came on. Jose still breathed;but he was speechless, though I think he understood what was said.Either Arthur or Tim sat by him, while Marian and I supported ourfather. Uncle Paul, overcome by fatigue, had gone to sleep. Just asthe sun rose, Jose breathed his last. Our father, who had slept forsome time, by this time appeared greatly refreshed; and after he hadtaken some food, a little water, and an orange, he was able to sit up,and we began to hope that he would recover. We did not tell him ofJose's death, but soon his eye fell on the bow of the boat. "God isindeed merciful, to have spared me. I might have been like that poorman," he observed.

  We waited till Uncle Paul awoke, to learn what to do, and he at oncesaid that we must bury poor Jose. I sat with Marian in the stern of theboat, while Uncle Paul and Tim lifted Jose's body up to the side; andthe latter fastened a piece of stone, which served as ballast, to hisfeet. Our uncle having uttered an earnest prayer that we might all bepreserved, they then let the corpse drop gently into the water, where itquickly disappeared beneath the surface. It was a sad sight, and poorMarian looked on with horror in her countenance. I wished that shecould have been spared the spectacle.

  Our stock of provisions and water would now last us scarcely a couple ofdays, and no land was in sight. Uncle Paul calculated, however, that wemust be some fifteen or twenty leagues to the south-east of CapeGaleota, the most southern point of Trinidad. The brown colour of thewater also showed that we were off the mouth of the mighty Orinoco,though probably many leagues away from it. Had we possessed our fullstrength and four oars, we might in time have reached the shore; but,weak as we were, and with only a couple of oars, we could have butlittle hope of doing so. We still trusted to falling in with a vessel;but as we gazed round over the glittering surface of the ocean, not asail appeared. While the calm lasted, none indeed could approach us;and too probably, before a breeze would spring up, our scanty stock ofprovisions might be exhausted.

  "Cheer up, my friends; let us still trust in God," said Uncle Paul atlength. "It is wrong to give way to despair. There's One above whowatches over us, and orders all for the best."

  "Let us pray to Him, then," exclaimed Marian, kneeling down; andfollowing the example of the dear girl, we lifted up our voices togetherfor safety and protection.

  We all felt comforted, and even our poor father's countenance lookedless downcast than before. That which weighed most on his spirits was,I suspect, the thought that he had been the cause of our being placed inour present position. No one, however, uttered a word of reproach, andwe all did our utmost to console him. Arthur tried to speak cheerfully:Tim attempted to sing one of the melodies of his native land, which hehad learned in his boyhood; but his voice broke down, and he waswell-nigh bursting into tears.

  The calm, though very trying, enabled us to obtain the rest we so muchrequired; and the next morning, though suffering from hunger, Uncle Paulwas quite himself again.

  After we had offered up our prayers, we took our scanty breakfast ofwater and a small piece of dried meat, with such parts of the rottenfruit as we could eat. Uncle Paul then stood up and looked about him."We shall have a breeze, I think, before long," he said, "and we must atonce prepare the sail. I am sorry, Marian, to deprive you of thecovering of your nest; but we have no other means of making the boat goalong."

  "I shall be thankful to give it up, if it will help on the boat," sheanswered, assisting to undo the lashing which secured the sail. It wasold, and already torn, but with a strong breeze it would afford suchcanvas as the boat could carry. We had only an oar for a mast, andanother for a yard. Uncle Paul stepped the first, and stayed it upcarefully with s
uch pieces of rope as could be found in the boat, whilehe joined two or three together to form a sheet.

  "We are now all ready for the breeze when it comes," he observed, havingfinished his work. "I cannot say much for the appearance of our sail,but we may be thankful if it enables us to reach a port in safety." Hewent and sat down again in the sternsheets, resting his hand on thetiller, so that not a moment might be lost after the breeze should reachus.

  "Here it comes!" he exclaimed at length. "But I wish it had been fromany other quarter. We may, however, hope to beat up against it, if itproves light, as I expect." He pointed to the north-west, where a darkblue line was seen extending across the horizon, and rapidlyapproaching, every instant becoming broader and broader. Now somecat's-paws came blowing over the ocean, rippling it up into mimic waves;now they disappeared, now again came on, till the whole surface wascrisped over by the breeze. Our small triangular sail bulged out,sending the boat along about a couple of miles an hour.

  Uncle Paul was standing up, looking in the direction from which the windcame, when he exclaimed, "A sail! a sail! She is coming from thenorthward, and must be bound either up the Orinoco, or to some port inthe northern part of the continent."

  Arthur and I looked eagerly out, but we could just see a small patch ofwhite rising above the horizon, which the eye of a sailor alone couldhave declared to be the topmost sails of a vessel. We stood on in thedirection we were going, hoping to cut her off before she passed to thesouthward of us. How eagerly we watched her!--now gazing at her, now atUncle Paul's countenance, which betrayed the anxiety he felt. Bydegrees her canvas rose above the horizon, and we saw that she was aschooner, under all sail, running rapidly through the water, anddirectly crossing our course. It soon became evident that we could notby any possibility cut her off, but we might be seen by those on board.At length she came almost ahead of us. Tim stood up and waved eagerly,and we all shouted at the top of our voices. We also attempted to fireour guns, but so wet were they that they would not go off.

  "Oh, let us pray!" cried Marian; and she and I knelt down.

  Still the schooner stood on. No eye on board was turned towards us. Wemust have presented, indeed, but a small speck on the wide ocean. Timnow waved violently, but all our shouting and waving was of no avail.Uncle Paul then kept the boat away, to obtain another chance of beingseen; though, of course, there was no hope of overtaking thefast-sailing schooner.

  "God's will be done!" at length cried Uncle Paul. "We are only runningfurther and further out of our course. We must hope that another vesselwill come by, and that we may be seen by those on board. If not, whilethe wind holds as it now does we must endeavour to reach the northernpart of Guiana."

  Though Uncle Paul said this, I could not help reflecting that ourprovisions would not hold out to keep us alive till then. For myself, Ifelt more hungry than I had ever before done in my life, and dreadfullythirsty; and I feared that Marian was suffering even more than I was,though she did not complain. I was careful, however, to say nothing toincrease her alarm, though I mentioned my fears in a whisper to Arthur,as we were seated in the bows of the boat.

  "I do not despair altogether," he answered. "We may very likely, beforelong, be visited by birds, which, as we have our guns, we may be able toshoot; or, should a calm come on, possibly some flying-fish may leap onboard, or we may be able to catch some other fish. Perhaps we may evenbe able to manufacture a hook and line."

  "What a fortunate idea!" I exclaimed. "I have got a file in my knife;and we may be able to find a nail, to which I can put a barb, and bendit into the proper shape."

  We lost no time in putting the idea just started, into execution. Wehunted about, and fortunately discovered a long thin nail of tough iron,which I thought we could bend into the shape of a hook. I told no onewhat I was about, however, but at once began filing away so as to formthe barb, the most difficult part of my task. Arthur, meantime,recollected that he had on a pair of strong thread socks; so, undoingthe upper part, he produced a long line, which when doubled was ofsufficient strength to bear a pretty strong pull. By the time I hadprepared my hook, greatly to my satisfaction, his line was ready. Itwas not so long as we should have liked, but still long enough to allowthe bait to sink sufficiently below the surface to attract the unwaryfish. Tim, in the meantime, had been cleaning our guns, the locks ofwhich, not having been covered up, had prevented their use at the momentthey were so much required. We reloaded them, and put in fresh priming.

  Uncle Paul having noticed what we were about,--"That is right," heobserved. "We are bound to make every effort to preserve our lives.While we put full trust in God, He will favour our efforts."

  The wind was again dropping, and the time, we thought, was favourable tocommence fishing. We had to sacrifice a small piece of manatee flesh,but we trusted that it would give us a satisfactory return. So, havingbaited our hook, and put some lead on the line, we dropped it into thewater, letting it tow astern. Never did fisherman hold a line with moreanxious wish for success than did Arthur. He had not long to wait.

  "I have a bite!" he exclaimed in a tone of eagerness. "Hurrah! it'shooked!"

  Carefully he drew in the line, while Tim and I leaned over the side, tolift up the expected prize, for fear that it might break away at thelast moment. It was a fish nearly two feet long; and it fortunatelystruggled but little, or I believe that it would have carried away thehook. How eagerly we clutched it!--literally digging our fingers intoits flesh--and then with a jerk brought it safely aboard. We none of usknew its name; but as it was of the ordinary fishlike shape, we hopedthat it would prove to be of a species fit for human food.

  "I wish we had a kitchen-fire at which to cook it," cried Marian.

  "We must manage to do without that," observed Uncle Paul; "and we shallnot be the first folks who have been thankful to obtain raw fish fordinner."

  It is my belief that that fish saved our lives. Even Marian managed toeat a small portion, which was beaten up fine to enable her to swallowit. Strange to say, it was the only one we caught, though we had theline out for several hours afterwards. We were afraid of allowing it toremain unless one of us held it, lest some large fish, catching hold ofit, should carry away the hook. We therefore hauled it in at night;and, it being calm, Arthur took the helm, while Uncle Paul lay down tosleep.