by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XVII
MISGIVINGS.
Most travellers who have passed a night in a South American forest havebeen roused from their slumbers by a _matinee musicale_ more fantasticthan melodious, performed by monkeys, as their ordinary greeting of thedawn. The yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form achorus almost unearthly in its hideousness.
Amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the quadrumanaought to be recognized the little marikina; the sagouin, with itsparti-coloured face; the grey mora, the skin of which is used by theIndians for covering their gun-locks; the sapajou, with its singulartuft over the forehead, and, most remarkable of all, the guariba(_Simia Beelzebul_) with its prehensile tail and diabolical countenance.
At the first streak of daylight the senior member, as choragus, willstart the key-note in a sonorous barytone, the younger monkeys join intenor and alto, and the concert begins. But this morning there was noconcert at all. There was nothing of the wonted serenade to break thesilence of the forest. The shrill notes resulting from the rapidvibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard.Indians would have been disappointed and perplexed; they are very fondof the flesh of the guariba when smoked and dried, and they wouldcertainly have missed the chant of the monkey "paternosters;" but DickSands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, andaccordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise.
They all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which there hadbeen nothing to disturb. Jack was by no means the latest in opening hiseyes, and his first words were addressed to Hercules, asking himwhether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. Hercules had toacknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himselfquite ready for breakfast. The whole party were unanimous in thisrespect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiouslyserved by old Nan. The meal was but a repetition of the last evening'ssupper, but with their appetites sharpened by the fresh forest air, andanxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not failto do ample justice to their simple fare. Even Cousin Benedict, foronce in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were notutterly a matter of indifference to him; but he grumbled very much atthe restraint to which he considered himself subjected; he could notsee the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to beobliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets; and he protestedthat if Hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catchfire-flies, there would be a bone to pick between them. Hercules didnot look very much alarmed at the threat. Mrs. Weldon, however, tookhim aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive theenthusiast entirely of his favourite occupation, instructed him toallow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not losesight of him.
The morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when thetravellers were once more on their way towards the east, preserving thesame marching-order as on the day before.
The path was still through luxuriant forest. The vegetable kingdomreigned supreme. As the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropicallatitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descendedperpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thusobtained combined with the abundant moisture retained in the subsoil,caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent.
Dick Sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. Herethey were, as Harris told them, in the region of the pampas, a wordwhich he knew in the Quichna dialect signifies "a plain;" but he hadalways read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency alikeof water, of trees, and rocks; he had always understood that during therainy season, thistles spring up in great abundance and grow until theyform thickets that are well-nigh impenetrable; he had imagined that thefew dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer onlystamp the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough barenessand desolation. But how different was everything to all this! Theforest never ceased to stretch away interminably to the horizon. Therewere no tokens of the rough nakedness that he had expected. Dick seemedto be driven to the conclusion that Harris was right in describing thisplateau of Atacama, which he had for his part most firmly believed tobe a vast desert between the Andes and the Pacific, as a region thatwas quite exceptional in its natural features.
It was not in Dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. Inthe course of the morning he expressed his extreme surprise at findingthe pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas.
"Have I not understood correctly," he said, "that the pampas is similarto the North American savannahs, only less marshy?"
Harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the pampasof Rio Colorado, and the Ilanos of Venezuela and the Orinoco.
"But," he continued, "I own I am as much astonished as yourself at thecharacter of this region; I have never crossed the plateau before, andI must confess it is altogether different to what you find beyond theAndes towards the Atlantic."
"You don't mean that we are going to cross the Andes?" said Dick, insudden alarm.
Harris smiled.
"No, no, indeed. With our limited means of transport such anundertaking would have been rash in the extreme. We had better havekept to the coast for ever rather than incur such a risk. Ourdestination, San Felice, is on this side of the range, and in order toreach it, we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatestelevation is but little over 1500 feet."
"And you say," Dick persisted, "that you have really no fear of losingyour way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have neverset foot before?"
"No fear whatever," Harris answered; "so accustomed am I to travellingof this kind, that I can steer my way by a thousand signs revealingthemselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of thesoil, which would never present themselves to your notice. I assure youthat I anticipate no difficulties."
This conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. Harrisseemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and Dick felt thatthere might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his ownmisgivings.
Five days passed by, and the 12th of April arrived without any specialincident. Nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in aday; regular periods of rest had been taken, and, except that Jack'sspirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to haveinterfered with the general good health of the travellers.
First disappointed of his India-rubber-tree, and then of his hummingbirds, Jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had beenled to expect he should see in this wonderful forest. Where were thebright green macaws? where were the gaudy aras with their bare whitecheeks and pointed tails, which seem never to light upon the ground?and where, too, were all the brilliant parroquets, with their featheredfaces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest chatterers of whichthe Indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct?
It is true that there was no lack of the common grey parrots withcrimson tails, but these were no novelty; Jack had seen plenty of thembefore, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever inmimickry of the Psittacidae, they have been domesticated everywhere inboth the Old and New worlds.
"Don't Fire!"]
But Jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to Cousin Benedict's.In spite of being allowed to wander away from the rank, he had failedto discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit; not even afire-fly danced at night; nature seemed to be mocking him, and hisill-humour increased accordingly.
In this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the16th it was estimated that they must have travelled between eighty andninety miles north-eastwards from the coast. Harris positively assertedthat they could not be much more than twenty miles from San Felice, andthat by pushing forwards they might expect in eight-and-forty hours tofind themselves lodged in comfortable quarters.
But although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vasttable-land, they had not seen one hum
an inhabitant. Dick was more thanever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that theyhad not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near somevillage or plantation where Mrs. Weldon might long since have found asuitable refuge.
Deserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it hadlatterly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. Many atime a long, plaintive cry was heard, which Harris attributed to thetardigrades or sloths often found in wooded districts, and known by thename of "ais;" and in the middle of the dinner-halt on this day, a loudhissing suddenly broke upon the air which made Mrs. Weldon start to herfeet in alarm.
"A serpent!" cried Dick, catching up his loaded gun.
The negroes, following Dick's example, were in a moment on the alert.
"Don't fire!" cried Harris.
There was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a "sucuru,"a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had justmoved itself in the long grass at their side, but Harris affirmed thatthe "sucuru" never hisses, and declared that the noise had really comefrom animals of an entirely inoffensive character.
"What animals?" asked Dick, always eager for information, which it mustbe granted Harris seemed always equally anxious to give.
"Antelopes," replied Harris; "but, hush! not a sound, or you willfrighten them away."
"Antelopes!" cried Dick; "I must see them; I must get close to them."
"More easily said than done," answered Harris, shaking his head; butDick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and, gun in hand, creptinto the grass. He had not advanced many yards before a herd of about adozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short, pointed horns, dashedpast him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood withoutgiving him time to take a shot.
"I told you beforehand what you would have to expect," said Harris, asDick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to theparty.
Impossible, however, as it had been fairly to scrutinize the antelopes,such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, theidentification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion betweenHarris and the rest.
About four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, the travellerswere halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, whenthree or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundredpaces ahead, and scampered off at full speed. In spite of what Harrishad urged, Dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on the very pointof firing, when Harris knocked the rifle quickly aside.
"They were giraffes!" shouted Dick.
The announcement awakened the curiosity of Jack, who quickly scrambledto his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging.
"My dear Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, "there are no giraffes in America!"
A herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud.]
"Certainly not," cried Harris; "they were not giraffes, they wereostriches which you saw!"
"Ostriches with four legs! that will never do! what do you say. Mrs.Weldon?"
Mrs. Weldon replied that she had certainly taken the animals forquadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression.
Laughing heartily, Harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for aninexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe; theshape of both was so similar, that it often quite escaped observationas to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle; besides,what need of discussion could there be when the fact was establishedthat giraffes are unknown in the New World? The reasoning was plausibleenough, and Mrs Weldon and the negroes were soon convinced. But Dickwas far from satisfied.
"I did not know that there was an American ostrich!" he again objected.
"Oh, yes," replied Harris promptly, "there is a species called thenandu, which is very well known here; we shall probably see some moreof them."
The statement was correct; the nandu is common in the plains of SouthAmerica, and is distinguished from the African ostrich by having threetoes, all furnished with claws. It is a fine bird, sometimes exceedingsix feet in height; it has a short beak, and its wings are furnishedwith blue-grey plumes. Harris appeared well acquainted with the bird,and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. Inconcluding his remarks, he again pressed upon Dick his most urgentrequest that he should abstain from firing upon any animal whatever. Itwas of the utmost consequence.
Dick made no reply. He was silent and thoughtful. Grave doubts hadarisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them.
When the march was resumed on the following day, Harris asserted hisconviction that another four-and-twenty hours would bring them to thehacienda.
"And there, madam," he said, addressing Mrs. Weldon, "we can offer youevery essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of yourown home in San Francisco."
Mrs. Weldon repeated her expression of gratitude for the profferedhospitality, owning that she should now be exceedingly glad to reachthe farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to bethreatened with the symptoms of incipient fever.
Harris could not deny that although the climate was usually veryhealthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind ofintermittent fever during March and April.
"But nature has provided the proper remedy," said Dick; and perceivingthat Harris did not comprehend his meaning, he continued, "Are we notin the region of the quinquinas, the bark of which is notoriously themedicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? for my part,I am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already."
"Ah! yes, yes; I know what you mean," answered Harris, after a moment'shesitation; "they are trees, however, not always easy to find; theyrarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrantred blossom, the Indians themselves often have a difficulty inrecognizing them; the feature that distinguishes them most is theirevergreen foliage."
At Mrs. Weldon's request, Harris promised to point out the tree if heshould see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she wouldbe able to obtain some sulphate of quinine, which was much moreefficacious than the unprepared bark.[1]
[Footnote 1: This bark was formerly, reduced to powder, known as"Pulvis Jesuiticus," because in the year 1649 the Jesuits in Romeimported a large quantity of it from their missionaries in SouthAmerica.]
The day passed without further incident. No rain had fallen at present,though the warm mist that rose from the soil betokened an approachingchange of weather; the rainy season was certainly not far distant, butto travellers who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in aplace of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern.
A halt was made for the night beneath a grove of loftytrees.]
Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove oflofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be morethan about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, wasDick Sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him torelax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted uponthe negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch.
Worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but theyhad scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry.
"Who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed Dick, the firstto rise to his feet.
"It is I," answered Benedict's voice; "I am bitten. Something hasbitten me."
"A snake!" exclaimed Mrs. Weldon in alarm.
"No, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; I believe it wasan orthoptera; I have it all right," he shouted triumphantly.
"Then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace,"said Harris.
"Kill it! not for the world! I must have a light, and look at it!"
Dick Sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light.The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insectsomewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow onthe under portion of the body. He looked radiant with
delight.
"A diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famousdiptera!"
"Is it venomous?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes."
"But tell us its name! what is it?" cried Dick impetuously.
The naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone.
"This insect is here a prodigy; it is an insect totally unknown in thiscountry,--in America."
"Tell us its name!" roared Dick.
"It is a tzetzy, sir, a true tzetzy."
Dick's heart sank like a stone. He was speechless. He did not, darednot, ask more. Only too well he knew where the tzetzy could alone befound. He did not close his eyes again that night.
