CHAPTER LI.
MATTHEW AND I CONTINUE THE DISCUSSION, BUT WITH SMALL PROFIT.
"Master," begins Matthew, "the Ingas would have us go to their village,which lies, as I take it, among the mountains to the west, nigh thatriver Meta they have spoken about."
"There need be no hesitation in agreeing to that," says I; "for whetherwe resolve to make for the north seaboard board or the west, thisvillage lies all in our way."
"You are in the right," says he; "but they would have us stay there."
"That needs no consideration neither," says I; "for we have no mind tobecome Ingas."
"Not so fast, master; hear me out," says he. "They would have us staythere until they have drawn together their scattered people in suchforce as we may assault the Portugals, and take one of their ports."
"That is easier said than done, Matthew."
"Ay," says he; "like descending the Baraquan, but with thisdifference--that in attacking a town we can ascertain pretty fairly whatopposition we shall have to encounter, and what force we have toovercome it; while in t'other affair there's no knowing what obstaclemay stand in our way, or what accidents of sickness and the like mayhappen to enfeeble us. Look you, master, the furthest an Englishman haspenetrated into Guiana by the Oronoque is a matter of thirty or fortyleagues, and that with the succor of lusty fellows well armed with boatsand stores; now, what we two men, with no arms but what we can beg ofthe Ingas, and no stores but what we may carry on our backs, propose tocompass is a journey through that same Guiana by untrodden ways andbroken waters--a distance of three or four hundred leagues, as I reckon;and with a female, remember. Likewise I would have you reflect that erewe are many months on our way, we shall be overtaken by the rain, whenwe must seek high ground, or be swept away by the floods and torrentsthat pour through the valleys. For you and me a month or two of misery,more or less, may count for nothing; but how is the female to stand it,with not a dry thread to her back, and, as like as not, never a bit ofshoe to her foot?"
This perspective was terrible enough, and yet, as I saw not overdrawn,but indeed favorable in comparison with the image that presented itselfto my mind, of my poor lady falling sick under the hardships ofprivation, and having no shelter but chilly rocks, no remedy, nocomfort, nor any hand to render those services which a woman can onlyreceive from a woman.
"Now, Matthew," says I, "let me hear what you have to say in favor oft'other venture, for I see which song your voice is most in tune for."
"I will say what I think, master," says he, showing greater patiencewith me than I with him, "for I have no wish you should count me wiseror more foolish than I am. Yet that you may not be disinclined to theIngas' design by thinking my wishes lead me to set it out in a fairerlight than it deserves, I must tell you that I have no relish formeddling with the Portugals. I have seen enough of 'em to satisfy mystomach to the last day of my life, and would rather end my days in awilderness than under the walls of a town. Anyhow, master, I will try tolet you see their project as they laid it out to me. This tribe numbersabout a hundred men and boys; females count for nothing. Ten of theirnumber will be left with us in the village; the rest will go out torouse up other tribes and bring them to their purpose. They will takewith them the Portugals' muskets, as a proof of what they have done, andI warrant it will count for something in their inducement that they havefor allies a couple of Englishmen who are accustomed to whippingPortugals; for it is certainly in the knowledge of these Indians that webeat them out of Cartagena in years gone by."
"How many Indians do they think to muster in this business?"
"Betwixt three and four hundred, according to the general opinion, andthat within a month."
"Say they gather together all that they hope for," says I, "what can aband of naked savages do against a town fortified with guns and defendedby trained soldiery, Matthew?"
"In the first place, master, let me tell you, 'tis no inconvenient tofight without clothes in these parts. As for their guns, I doubt if theywill ever get a chance of firing at us. We shall take the town bysurprise, for these Ingas know how to march easily through the woods byways unknown to the Portugals. Against the trained soldiery we shallbring ten arquebuses, with good account, I'll answer for it, with galoreof bows, blow-guns, and pikes, all wielded by fellows who are fightingfor liberty and life."
"Supposing we carry the town, as very probably we may, what then? Unlessevery soul in the place is massacred the news must be carried to thePortugals, who will lose no time in sending ships and men to recover it.Supposing the Ingas can withstand an assault, how long can they standout against an organized siege?"
"Why, that's their lookout," says Matthew. "What we have at heart isgetting out of Guiana, and it will be odd indeed if we can't get somesort of craft to bear us thence ere the Portugals come down to lay siegeto the place."
"What," says I, "would you desert the Ingas after leading 'em into thispitfall?"
"Nay," says he, "'tis their own wish to go there, and they know fullwell we have no wish to stay."
"Ay," says I; "but did you warn them of the vengeance the Portugals willcertainly take? No! On the other hand, with your prating of our prowesson the sea, and the multitude of our ships, and drubbings in store forthe Portugals, you may have led them to believe that we should come backwith ships and men to help them, which can never be while we stand atpeace with the Portugal."
Matthew scratched his head in silence for a minute, and then says he:
"'Twould be a scurvy trick to leave the poor fellows to fight the nextbattle alone, and that's a fact. If they could only hold their own--oranybody else's."
"But they can not, so we must set our faces against their design."
"I don't mind standing by 'em, master, if you're minded to let me takethe responsibility of this business on my own shoulders. I warrantthere's not a soul alive in England who remembers me, or would care tosee me again."
"And what would become of you, my poor fellow?" says I, touched by thesadness of his speech. "Do you think you could hold the town against thePortugals?"
"No," says he; "but I wager I'd thin down the rascals before they tookit from me."
"Come," says I, "let us think of something else, for you must know thiscan never be."
So I turned my thoughts to the Baraquan, and gloomy enough they were, sothat I had not a word to say; but Matthew, though his hopes were dashed,still revolved the Ingas and their design in his mind, as it appeared,for presently, breaking silence, he says:
"I had no notion these Ingas were such a fine set of fellows, which onlyproves once again that we should never judge of a flock of sheep by theewes in the pen."
"Why," says I, "did you not find your wives amiable and kind?"
"Ay," says he; "but what does a man want of such trumpery as amiabilityand kindness?" (As I have tried to show, he was himself remarkable forthese qualities.) "Can you tell me anything about these Ingas, master,for I am no schollard?"
"Nor I neither, Matthew," says I. "I know no more of these people thanwhat I have learnt from you and my own limited observation."
"You know enough to perceive they are better than the common ruck ofmankind, I warrant," says he, "for they have the bearing and proudcarriage of a noble race not used to base practices. For my own part Ifeel I could trust 'em with my life--as long as they learn nothing to mydiscredit."
"Ay," says I, "they do seem, as you say, a noble race of men."
"Then what a thousand pities it is," says he, "that they should behunted from their homes, and worried to death by such a pack of dirtydogs as these Portugals."
I made no reply. Nor did he continue his theme for some time, butstrolled beside me in silence, which was odd in him, who was wont toutter his thoughts as they came into his head. Yet I perceived his mindwas still occupied, for, taking off his hat for the greater convenienceof scratching his head, he would now and again give his thigh a slapwith it, muttering occasionally betwixt his teeth, though I could catchno words but "dirty
dogs of Portugals," and the like.
The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Page 51
