CHAPTER FIVE.
SHIP AHOY!--RESCUED--THE KIND SKIPPER--ENTER THE ORINOCO--THEHURRICANE--TWO MEN OVERBOARD--WRECKED ON A TREE--AN ANXIOUS QUESTION--ACURIOUS SCENE--WE OBTAIN FOOD--QUACKO, OUR NEW FRIEND.
Uncle Paul had charged Arthur and me to call him should there be theslightest change in the weather. The wind, however, continued verylight, and the boat glided forward, as well as we could judge, steeringby the stars, towards the point we desired to gain. I kept my eyesabout me as long as they would consent to remain open, though it wasoften a difficult task.
Several times I was nodding, when Arthur aroused me with his voice. Itmust have been about midnight, when, looking astern, I saw a darkshadowy form gliding over the surface of the ocean. I rubbed my eyes,supposing it to be a thing of the imagination; but there it was, notmany cable-lengths off, coming up towards us.
"See! see, Arthur! What can that be?" I cried out.
"A sloop or a small schooner!" he exclaimed.
We at once called up Uncle Paul.
"Can she be a vessel sent in chase of us?" I asked.
"No fear of that. It could never have been supposed that we had got sofar south; and they would not know in which direction to look for us,"he answered.
Still I could not help having some doubts on the subject.
"We will hail the stranger, and learn what she is," said Uncle Paul; so,uniting our voices, we shouted out, "Ship ahoy! ship ahoy!"
A voice replied, in Dutch; and my father, who understood the language,at once cried out,--"Heave to, for the love of Heaven, and receive us onboard!"
"Ya, ya," was the answer; "we will be up with you presently."
In a few minutes we were alongside the stranger, a small Dutchtrading-sloop. As soon as we were all on board our boat was droppedastern, and sail was made. Her skipper, Mynheer Jan van Dunk, gave us akind reception, exhibiting the greatest sympathy when he heard of thesufferings we had endured, and seeming especially moved at hearing ofthose Marian had gone through.
"I have one little maid just like her," he said, taking her in his arms."She must go into my berth and sleep while we get supper ready. Poorlittle dear, she has had no food for so many days."
"Thank you, I am not so very hungry," said Marian; "but I am verythirsty."
"Well, well, then, we will get you some tea ready," he answered."Peter," he cried to his mate, "get a fire lighted in the caboose.Quick, quick, now; they all want food--I see it in their looks."
The skipper said this while we were seated round the table in his littlecabin, pretty closely packed, as may be supposed.
"We want water more than anything else," said Uncle Paul.
"Ya, ya; but we will put some schiedam into it. Water is bad forstarving people."
Peter quickly brought in a huge jug of water, but the skipper would notallow him to fill our tumblers till he himself had poured a portion ofschiedam into each of them. "There now," he said, "there will no harmcome to you."
Never had I taken so delicious a draught. It certainly had a verybeneficial effect, and we set to with a will on some cold salt beef,sausages, and biscuits, which the kind skipper placed before us. By thetime we had finished the viands we were quite ready for a fresh supplyof liquid. Peter then brought in a large pot of hot tea, which perhapsreally refreshed us more than anything else. Captain Jan had notforgotten Marian. All this time he had kept supplying her, till sheassured him that she could eat and drink no more.
After we had taken all the food we required, the skipper and his matearranged the cabin to enable us all to sleep with as much comfort aspossible. My father was put into the mate's berth, Uncle Paul slept onthe after-locker, Tim and Arthur on either side, and I on the table. Ishould have said that Captain Jan's crew consisted of his mate Peter,another Dutchman, a black, and two Indians. Worn-out with fatigue as wewere, we all slept on for several hours, and when we awoke our firstimpulse was to ask for some food, which, thanks to the honest mate, wasquickly supplied to us. As the cabin was on deck, and the door andscuppers were kept wide open, though small, it was tolerably cool; andwe felt, after being so long cooped up in the boat, as if suddenlytransported to a luxurious palace. Captain Jan looked in on us veryfrequently, and did not appear at all to mind being turned out of hiscabin, but, on the contrary, exhibited a genuine pleasure in attendingto our wants.
By the evening Marian was quite herself again, and wished to get up andgo on deck; while our father was certainly very much better. He alsowanted to get up, but the skipper insisted that he should remain quiettill his strength was perfectly restored. My father and Uncle Paul hadbeen so prostrated mentally as well as physically, that it did not occurto them to ask where the vessel was bound to, nor had the captain askedus where we wished to go.
Captain Jan was exactly what I had pictured a Dutch skipper--short, fat,and fond of a drop of schnapps, and fonder still of his pipe. He waskind-hearted and good-natured in the extreme, and was evidently pleasedwith the thought that he had been the means of saving our lives. Hismate Peter was in appearance very unlike him: tall and thin, with amelancholy expression of countenance; which, however, belied his naturaldisposition, for he was really as merry and kind-hearted as the skipper.
Arthur, Tim, and I went on deck for a short time, and found the sloopslipping pretty quickly through the water; but I cannot say that we tooka "turn" on deck, for there was very little space to enjoy more than afisherman's walk, which is three steps and overboard. We soon returnedto the cabin to have supper, which Sambo the black, under Peter'ssupervision, had exerted all his skill to cook. It was not of a refinedstyle of cookery, but we enjoyed it as much as if it had been the mostmagnificent banquet. We had not yet made up for our loss of sleep, soonce more we all lay down in the little cabin, the kind skipper and hismate still refusing to occupy their own berths.
Next morning, when I went on deck, I found that it was a perfect calm.After breakfast the oars were got out; and as none of us wished to beidle, we offered to take our turn with the rest. I should have saidthat the vessel belonged to Stabroek, Guiana, then a Dutch settlement.After having visited Trinidad, she was on her way up the Orinoco totrade with the natives. Had my father and Uncle Paul known this, theywould certainly have requested the skipper to carry us to Stabroek.
"I am afraid that we put you much out of your way, eat up yourprovisions, and keep you out of your cabin," said Uncle Paul to CaptainJan.
"Oh no, no, my friends," answered the honest skipper. "I am glad ofyour company, and that little girl has won my heart; so, if you arepleased to remain, we will just run up the river for a week or two, andwhen we have done some trading with the natives I will carry you toStabroek, or wherever else you may wish to go. We shall have nodifficulty in obtaining provisions and water, and I have still a goodstore of schiedam, so, my friends, you will not starve, you see."
Although my father and Uncle Paul would much rather have landed at once,they could not insist on the skipper going out of his course, and theyaccordingly agreed to his proposal.
We had been rowing on for some time, the calm still continuing, when Isaw Peter the mate eagerly looking out ahead. Springing up on heel ofthe bowsprit, he cried out, "Land ho! We shall soon be within the mouthof the river."
"Faith, it's curious land now," exclaimed Tim. "My eyes can only makeout a row of bushes floating on the top of the sea."
"We shall find that they are pretty tall trees, by the time we get nearthem," observed Peter.
All hands now took to the sweeps, and made the sloop walk through thewater at the rate of three or four miles an hour. Still the current,which was running out pretty swiftly, would have prevented us fromentering, had not a breeze sprung up. Sail was made immediately, and atlength we found ourselves entering one of the many mouths of the mightyOrinoco, with mangrove-covered islands on either side. There wasnothing either picturesque or imposing in the scenery, except the greatwidth of the river. As we advanced, however, we caught faint glimpsesof h
igh mountains rising to the southward. Not a sail dotted the vastexpanse, but now and then we saw native canoes paddling close to thewood-covered shore, though none of them came near us. The intention ofour skipper was not to delay longer at the mouth of the river than toobtain provisions, but to proceed at once some hundred miles or so, tothe district where the natives with whom he proposed trading resided.We had to keep the lead going, with a bright lookout ahead, to preventthe risk of running on any of the numerous shoals and sandbanks whichimpeded the navigation; and at length darkness compelled us to bring upand furl the sail, for it would have been dangerous to proceed on duringthe night without a pilot who was intimately acquainted with thechannel.
I was awakened during the night by a loud rushing sound, and on going ondeck I found the captain and mate anxiously watching the cable.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing as yet," was the reply; "but we shall be fortunate if ouranchor holds, and we are saved from being carried down the stream. Theriver has risen considerably since we entered, and a strong current iscoming down from the interior."
Happily our anchor did hold. The skipper and his mate kept watching itthe whole night through, and had a second one ready to let go should thefirst yield; so I felt no inclination to turn in again, though I wouldnot awake the rest of our party.
Next morning there was a strong breeze, and we were able to weigh anchorand run up against the current. When passing an island some way up, acouple of canoes came off with provisions to sell, when we readilybecame purchasers. Among other articles we bought a number ofland-tortoises, which, when cooked, we found delicious. We had also asupply of very fine ripe plums, which grow wild in the forest on thebanks of the stream. Altogether we fared sumptuously, and soonrecovering our spirits, began to look more hopefully at the future. Myfather even talked of being able to return to Trinidad some day, shouldthe Inquisition be got rid of. The people in the country generallydetested it, and so especially did the new settlers, who had beenaccustomed to live in countries blessed with freer institutions.
For fully a week more we ran on, the wind favouring us--otherwise weshould have made no progress. By the appearance of the banks we sawthat the river had risen very considerably, and in many places the wholeforest appeared to be growing out of the water, which extended amid thetrees as far as the eye could reach. We had thus an advantage, as wecould make a straight course and pass over sandbanks and shallows;whereas in the original state of the river we should have had to steernow on one side, now on the other, to avoid them.
The weather had hitherto been very fine; but at length one night, somehours after we had brought up, the wind began to increase, dark cloudsgathered in the sky, the thunder roared, and vivid lightning dartedthrough the air.
A cry arose, "The anchor has parted!" Sail was instantly made, and wedrove before the blast. The broad river, hitherto so calm, was lashedinto fierce waves, amid which the little sloop tumbled and tossed as ifshe was in mid-ocean. To anchor was impossible, and no harbour appearedon either side into which we could run for shelter. The trees bentbeneath the fierce blast which swept over them. Our only course was tokeep on in the centre of the stream. Our brave skipper went to thehelm, and did his best to keep up our spirits by assuring us that hissloop had weathered many a fiercer gale. The seas, however, continuallybroke aboard, and the straining mast and shrouds threatened everyinstant to yield to the fury of the tempest. If there was danger wherewe were, it was still greater near the submerged forest on either side;for the lofty trees, their roots loosened by the rushing water, werecontinually falling, and one of them coming down upon our vessel wouldquickly have crushed her, and sent her helplessly to the bottom.
Marian behaved like a true heroine, and terrific as was the scene, sheendeavoured to keep up her own courage and that of all on board.
Hour after hour the little vessel struggled on amid the waves, till atlength a blast more furious than any of its predecessors struck her,heeling her over, so that it appeared as if she would never rise again.Her sails were blown to ribbons, and the sea carried away her rudder.Now utterly helpless, she drove before the gale; which, shifting to thenorthward, blew directly across the stream, bearing us towards thesubmerged forest, where the waves as they rolled along dashed up amidthe tall trees, sending the spray high over their branches.
On and on the vessel drove. A heavy sea rolling up filled our boat,towing astern, and, for our own safety, we were compelled to cut heradrift. Before us arose out of the water a large tree withwidespreading branches; and in a few minutes the vessel drove violentlyagainst it. Her bowsprit was carried away, and a huge rent made in herbows, when she bounded off; but it was only to drive helplessly furtheron. Every moment we expected to see the trees which were bending aboveour heads come down and crush us. Again the wind shifted, and we foundourselves drifting along by the edge of the forest. We endeavoured toget a rope round the trunk of one of the trees, but the effort was vain.Peter and another of the crew, in attempting to do so, were draggedoverboard. We heard their cries, but we were unable to assist them, andthey were quickly lost to sight in the darkness.
On and on we drove. The water was now rushing into the vessel, andevery instant we expected that she would go down. All chance of savingher was abandoned; and our only hope was that she might be drivenagainst some tree, into the branches of which we might clamber fortemporary safety. The roaring of the waves, the howling of the windamid the branches, the dashing waters, and the crashing of the boughstorn off by the tempest, created a deafening uproar which almost drownedthe sound of our voices. Uncle Paul, however, still tried to makehimself heard. "Trust still in God. I will endeavour to save Marian,"he said. "Be prepared, my friends, for whatever may occur; don't loseyour presence of mind." Scarcely had he spoken when the sloop wasdashed with great violence against the trunk of an enormous tree, which,with several others forming a group, stood out from the forest. Thewater rushed rapidly into her, and we felt that she was sinking.
Uncle Paul, taking Marian in his arms, now sprang to the bows, followedby Arthur, who grasped my hand. "Come along, Guy; I must do my best tosave you," he exclaimed, dragging me along. I did not at the moment seemy father, who was in the after part of the vessel; but I knew that Timwould do his utmost to save him. Uncle Paul, in a manner a sailor alonecould have accomplished, leaped on to a mass of hanging creepers whichthe sloop was at the moment touching; while Arthur and I foundourselves--I scarcely knew how we had got there--on another part of thevast trunk, when we instinctively began to climb up the tree. I sawthat two other persons had reached the tree, when loud cries arose; and,to my dismay, as I looked down from the secure position I had gained, Icould nowhere discover the vessel: she had disappeared. In vain Icalled to my father: no reply came. I now perceived the black man Samboclinging to the upper part of a bough; and lower down, Kallolo thenative holding on to a part above the water, out of which he hadscrambled.
Just then the cry arose from amid the surging water of "Help!--help! Ishall be after being drowned entirely, if somebody doesn't pick me outof this!" I recognised Tim's voice; and Arthur and I were about toclamber down to help him, when Kallolo the native stretched out hishand, and catching Tim's as he floated by, dragged him out of the water.We went down to his assistance, and soon had him hauled up safe on thebough.
Tim had just expressed his gratitude to Kallolo, when he missed myfather. "Ochone! what has become of the master?" he exclaimed. "Shure,he hasn't been drowned? Ochone!--ahone! what will become of us?" Noneof us could answer Tim's question. My father and the brave skipper haddisappeared with the vessel, which, with too much reason, we feared hadgone down. Tim only knew that he had found himself suddenly swept offthe deck, and struggling in the water. Probably an overhanging bough,as the vessel swept by, had caught him. But, believing his master to belost, he seemed scarcely to feel any satisfaction at having been savedhimself.
With the fierce current rushing by th
e tree, and the heavy surges whichdashed against it, we could not tell how long it might stand; indeed,every moment we expected to find it falling. Such must have been itsfate, had not its roots been deeply planted in the ground.
We now turned our attention to Uncle Paul and Marian, who stood in asort of network but a few feet above the waves, which threatened toreach them. Our object was to get them at once into a more secureposition.
Day was just breaking, the light revealing a wild and fearful scene. Onone side the broad river, lashed into fierce waves, foamed and leapedfrantically; while on the other was the forest-region, the groundcovered, as far as the eye could reach, with turbid waters, intermixedwith fallen boughs and uprooted shrubs; while the trees sent downshowers of leaves, fruit, and branches, rent off by the wind. But wehad not much time to contemplate this scene. Arthur managed to reach abough just above their heads, and then called to Uncle Paul, and beggedhim to climb up higher, so that he might get hold of Marian. It was noeasy matter. But at last he succeeded; and with my help and her ownexertions she was dragged up to the bough to which we clung. Uncle Paulsoon followed; and we were now all able to rest and contemplate thefuture. Whether the waters would rise still higher, or how long theywould cover the earth, we did not know. Of one thing we were certain,that they would not cover it altogether; but in other respects ourposition greatly resembled that of the inhabitants of the old world whenthe flood first began to rise, and they sought the hilltops and thehighest branches of the trees for safety. With them the water continuedto rise higher and higher, and they must have watched with horror anddismay their rapid progress. We knew, let the floodgates of heaven beopened ever so wide, that the waters must ere long be stayed.
"Where is papa?--oh! what has become of him?" exclaimed Marian, lookinground and not seeing our father among us.
"I trust that he is still on board the sloop," answered Uncle Paul,wishing not to alarm her. "Had she gone down, we should have seen hermasts above the water. Probably, lightened of so many people, shefloated on, and may be even now at no great distance. We must notdespair; though our position, I own, is very critical."
"Shure, I think the master must have escaped," observed Tim. "He was atthe other end of the vessel when the big bough knocked me overboard, andhe and the skipper may even now be better off than we are; for if theyget the craft in among the trees, they may stop without any trouble ofanchoring; and they will have plenty of grub aboard, which is more thanwe are likely to find among these big trees, though we are much obligedto them for giving us shelter just now."
Poor Marian seemed somewhat comforted by these assurances, and asked nofurther questions, but sat on the bough on which we had placed her,gazing down on the waters, which rolled in rapid eddies beneath us.
We were talking of what we should next try to do, when we heard a loudchattering above our heads; and looking up, we saw several monkeys,which had descended from the topmost boughs, gazing down on us,--someinspecting us with all the gravity of Turks, others swinging backwardsand forwards on the pendent vines, as if they felt themselves at home,and were perfectly indifferent to our presence. While we remainedquiet, they held their posts. One big fellow, especially, with a longtail and huge bushy whiskers, was unusually bold; and having crept alonga bough, sat himself down not a dozen yards from the native Kallolo, ofwhom he appeared not to have the slightest dread. Kallolo began talkingto him in his own language, and as soon as he ceased the monkeychattered a reply.
"He know me," said Kallolo. "We soon be great friends. Quacko!--Quacko! Dat your name, I know. Come here, good Quacko. Tell me whereyou been since you ran away from your old master," he continued.
"Quacko!--Quacko!" answered the monkey, imitating the Indian's tone ofvoice.
Kallolo then began to work his way along the bough. The monkey, insteadof retreating, came nearer and nearer; when Kallolo stopped, stillspeaking in the same soothing tone. Once more he moved on. It seemedas if the monkey were fascinated; for I could not suppose that thecreature really understood the native, or that the native understood themeaning of the monkey's chattering. At length Kallolo got within reachof Quacko, when, gently stretching out his hand, he began to tickle themonkey's nose. Then he got a little nearer, till he could scratch itshead and back. All this time the monkey sat perfectly still, althoughits companions were climbing here and there, some swinging backwards andforwards on the vines, others making all sorts of grimaces at us. Atlength, to our surprise, we saw Kallolo take Quacko in his arms, andquickly return with him into our midst. Quacko looked a little alarmedat us, but was speedily soothed, and in a few minutes he appeared quiteat home.
"He has been among white men before this," observed Kallolo, showing themonkey's ears, which had small gold earrings in them. "I thought sowhen him first come to look at us. He and I great friends before long."
Thus was the extraordinary way in which Kallolo had apparentlyfascinated the monkey accounted for. As the native had predicted, thecreature was soon as much at home with us as if we had been friends allour lives. Strange as it may seem, under the perilous circumstances inwhich we were placed this incident afforded us much amusement andconsiderable relief. Our thoughts, however, were soon turned to a moreimportant subject,--the means of finding support. We agreed that themonkeys could not live in the trees without food; and what assisted tosustain them would help to keep us alive, though too probably we shouldsoon produce a scarcity.
Kallolo overheard us speaking on the subject. "We have plenty to eat,never fear," he observed.
"I wish you could show us that same," said Tim.
"Why, we catch the other monkeys, and eat them," said Kallolo. "Youtake care of Quacko, while I go and look for food."
As Kallolo spoke, he began to ascend the tree, and was soon lost tosight amid the dense foliage. As we looked up we could not see anywherenear the summits of the trees. We might, as far as we could judge, beat the foot of "Jack's beanstalk." Taking Kallolo's hint, Tim tried tocatch one of the other monkeys; but though Quacko remained quietly withus, they were far too cautious and nimble to allow him to get up withthem, and I feared that in his eagerness he would tumble off into thefoaming waters and be swept away. Uncle Paul at last called to him, andtold him to give up the chase as utterly hopeless. Uncle Paul, however,advised us to search more carefully, in the hope that we might findeither nuts or fruit of some sort or other, or bird's eggs, or youngbirds, which might serve us as food, while he remained to take care ofMarian.
I had not gone far when I heard a sound, coming from no great distance,of "Wow! wow! wow!" and looking along the bough, I caught sight of abird rather smaller than the common pigeon, but of beautiful plumage.Its head and breast were blue, the neck and belly of a bright yellow;and, from the shortness of its legs, it appeared as if sitting, like ahen on her nest. It saw me, but made no attempt to move. I had littlehope, however, of catching it with my hands, and suspected that it wouldfly away should I attempt to approach it nearer. I therefore retreated,and considered what was best to be done. Then, I bethought me that bycutting a long stiff sepo to serve as a wand, I might form a noose atthe end of it, and thus catch not only the bird before me, but anyothers which might be in the trees. I immediately put my plan intoexecution; and a sepo suitable for the purpose being within my reach, Icut it. Fortunately I had a piece of string in my pocket, with which Imanufactured a noose; and returning along the branch, I held my wand atan angle above me, so as to let the end drop down on the bird. I wasmore successful than I expected. Not till it actually felt the nooseround its neck, did it attempt to fly; but it was then too late. As Ijerked it towards me, a quantity of feathers fell from it. I got itspeedily in my hands, and, influenced by feeling how acceptable it wouldbe, immediately wrung its neck, and brought it down in triumph. Lookinground, I saw several other birds of the same species, and was successfulin catching three more; for they made not the slightest attempt to flyaway till I was close upon them.
I
at length returned with my game to the large branch where I had leftUncle Paul and Marian. Arthur and Tim came back about the same time;the one with some eggs, and the latter with a couple of tree-frogs ofhuge size.
"Faith, when a man's hungry he mustn't be particular," observed Tim;"and it seemed to me that though these beasts are not over pretty tolook at, they might serve to keep body and soul together till bettertimes come round."
"Very right," said Uncle Paul. "I trust that these few trees willsupply us with sufficient food if we search for it, and I am not verysqueamish as to its character."
Sambo brought in a very ugly-looking lizard; but he declared that itwould prove as good to eat as anything else. We now somewhat anxiouslyawaited the return of Kallolo.
The only articles which could be eaten with satisfaction, unless cooked,were the eggs which Arthur had brought, and these he and Uncle Paulinsisted should be given to Marian. It required some persuasion toinduce her to take them, as she was unwilling to deprive us of them; andit was only by assuring her that when our appetites were a littlesharper we should eat the frogs and lizards with satisfaction, that wecould induce her to consume the eggs.
We now discussed the possibility of making a fire to cook ourprovisions. There was room enough in the fork of a large branch; butthe danger was that we might set the whole tree alight, and burn it andourselves. Still, we did not as yet feel inclined to eat the frogs andlizards, or even the birds, raw, though we knew that we might in the endbe compelled to do so.
At length we heard Kallolo's voice above us; and looking up, we saw himdescending the tree. "Here, friends. See!" he exclaimed, "I have notmade my trip up to the sky for nothing;" and he produced from agrass-formed pocket, which he always carried by his side, a supply ofripe figs. He parted them among us, offering Marian the largest share.
How delicious those figs tasted! They were both meat and drink to us;and we felt that while a bountiful Providence supplied us with suchfood, we need have no fear of starving.
I showed Kallolo the birds which I had caught. He called them bocloras,and observed that they were pretty good food, and he hoped that we mightcatch some others which would come to feed on the ripe figs.
The Wanderers; Or, Adventures in the Wilds of Trinidad and Orinoco Page 5
