Black Sheep's Daughter

by Carola Dunn

  Teresa was sure he was comparing their crude efforts with the magnificent performances he must have attended in England. Don Eduardo had mentioned that all well bred young ladies played the piano or the harp, and there were operas and orchestras also.

  However, when they finished, the Englishman said with great sincerity, "What a haunting tune! It reminds me a little of the music of the Scottish islands. Will you play another?"

  With Oscar gazing into Rafaela's dark eyes, and Teresa delighted to be doing something that met with Sir Andrew's approval, it was left to Marco to be practical for once. After their third piece, he reminded them firmly that they must be up at dawn tomorrow if they hoped to reach Turrialba. Reluctantly they put away their instruments and retired for the night.

  * * * *

  They left shortly after dawn the next morning. Torrential rain during the night had turned the path to a yellow hasty pudding that sucked at the horses' hooves and steamed visibly in the hot sun.

  When they reached the main track, the jungle closed in again.

  A pair of huge blue butterflies danced by and Gayo swooped at them. They fluttered on, paying him no heed, to his annoyance.

  He scolded vociferously, making Teresa laugh. Offended, he took refuge with Sir Andrew.

  As they rounded a bend, a spectacular view opened before them. They were on the edge of a precipice that fell sheer into a mighty, mist-filled gorge. In the depths, rifts in the swirling mists revealed a glint of sunlight on water.

  Oscar, as always in the lead, reined in his horse. They all stopped and sat in silence, staring. The walls of the rift, steep as they were, were green with jungle growth, broken here and there by a yellow-flowering tree or the white of falling water. On the far side, mountain slopes rose towards the volcano Chirripo, its peak now hidden in clouds.

  A flock of long-tailed scarlet macaws flew by below them, their raucous cries breaking the stillness.

  "Hello, hello, hello," cried Gayo, but his wild cousins paid him no heed. "Hello, dinner," he muttered in Andrew's ear, sounding just like a sulky child.

  Regretfully they rode on.

  * * * *

  Some time later, they were picking their way down a steep slope when it began to rain. The path was sandy, scattered with pebbles, and many exposed roots crossed it; Oscar at once recognised it as the bed of an occasional stream. As the sudden downpour turned the track into a rushing torrent of yellow water, he shouted for everyone to move to the sides and try to find more solid footing on the tangle of roots and small plants. One of the mules dug in its heels and refused to move, holding back the two others tied to it. Teresa saw the peon leading them raise his whip.

  "Juan, no!" she cried, afraid that the terrified animal would lose its footing and dump all their possessions in the floodwaters. She urged her mount back up the path, grasped the mule's leading rein and leaned down to stroke its long nose and speak soothing words. Gently tugging, she persuaded it to scramble up the side of the stream. The other two followed willy-nilly.

  Just as they gained firm ground, a fallen branch as thick as a man's leg swept by them, twisting in the current.

  "Don't you dare ever do such a damned fool thing again!" shouted Oscar, furious.

  "But it is carrying Don Eduardo's coffee," she explained, bewildered.

  "Don't you ever think before you act? Do you think Papa had not rather lose all the coffee in the world than lose you? How do you suppose I could ever go home and tell him you had died in such a stupid accident while in my care?" He saw the glint of tears in his sister's eyes. Dismounting, he pulled her down into his arms and held her tight. "You are the most precious thing in the world to him, to all of us," he went on gently. "We can scarcely bear to let you go to England, Teresa. It would break our hearts to lose all hope of seeing you again. Take better care of yourself for our sakes, if not for your own."

  "I did not think anyone cared that I am going," she sniffled into his rain-wet shoulder.

  "Papa knows that you will never be satisfied with the limited life at home. It is a hard, dull life for a woman. Perhaps you will come back to us when you have seen the world, if only for a visit. At least we will know you are not wasting away lonely on some isolated farm. Be happy, that is all we want."

  She hugged him hard, sniffed again, then leaned back with a brilliant smile. "Darling Oscar, if you are so eloquent when you speak to Rafaela, I have no fears that your courtship will not prosper."

  He laughed, let her go, and aimed a slap at her rear end. "Back on your horse, woman, or we shall never reach Turrialba before dark."

  "Well done!" Marco mouthed at her as she passed him.

  As Teresa mounted, she saw Sir Andrew watching her with a strange look on his face. She realised she had once again managed to thoroughly disgust him with her unladylike conduct. No doubt he would prefer her to fall into a swoon at the least sign of danger, so that he could play the gallant in coming to the rescue.

  Next time, she thought, perhaps she would oblige.

  The rainstorm ended and the flood dispersed as suddenly as it had risen. Riding on, they made good time in spite of the rugged terrain, and reached the posada in the little village of Turrialba well before nightfall.

  The innkeeper recognised Oscar, who had more than once accompanied his father's trains of ox-wagons to the coast, and welcomed them heartily. A hunter had just brought in a sack of armadillos, so they dined on roast armadillo, except for Sir Andrew who declined even though the alternative was plain beans. Once again, the political news was eagerly discussed, but they retired early and rose as usual with the dawn.

  Their goal for the day was Siquirres, which was not very far. However, as Oscar said, it was better to leave early and allow for delays than to find themselves still in the jungle after dark.

  The track was in good condition, and as they neared the coastal plain the going was easier though they all felt the heat after the comparative coolness of the Meseta Central. The jungle was more tangled and lush than ever, and occasionally the peons took out their machetes to clear encroaching growth. If everyone who passed did not do their bit, the track would soon disappear altogether.

  They crossed several rough log bridges over slow moving, greenish grey rivers. Once they disturbed a caiman sleeping in the sun. It looked like a misplaced log until it opened its jagged-toothed mouth in a wide yawn. The sinister reptile slid off the bridge into the water with a splash then surfaced to watch them with cold, unblinking eyes.

  On the banks, where more light reached the lower levels of the forest, orchids bloomed in delicate profusion on every branch.

  By Oscar's reckoning, it was not long after noon and they were scarce an hour's ride from Siquirres when they found their way blocked. A hundred-foot tree had fallen recently, directly across the track. In its fall it had dragged down a score of lesser trees, all tied together by an impenetrable tangle of vines.

  They would have to blaze a new trail. The men drew out their machetes from their leather sheathes. Spares were found for Rowson and Sir Andrew, who enquired in a bland voice as to why Miss Danville was exempt from this labour.

  "She is skilful with a machete," Marco rushed to her defense, "but not strong enough. Besides, someone must stand guard, and she is the best shot."

  So Teresa sat her horse, hands hovering over her pistols, eyes scanning the jungle. The maidservant was left in charge of the other animals. Oscar went ahead, slicing his way through the greenery, to choose a route that was wide enough to allow passage to an ox-cart. The rest of the men followed, blades swinging.

  Andrew soon found that he was making little impression on his adversary, the jungle, while expending a great deal more energy than the others appeared to be. He wiped his forehead and went humbly back to Teresa to ask for a lesson. She demonstrated the twist of the wrist that would most successfully direct the force of the blade. He was heading back to work when there was a noise something like barking dogs in the treetops, far above. He looked up.


  A very ripe and very smelly fruit hit him in the face.

  Attracted by the sound of their work, a troop of monkeys had come to investigate. Soon a shower of missiles descended upon them, mostly harmless if squishy, but including sizeable sticks. Trying not to laugh, Teresa handed Sir Andrew a large handkerchief. She looked up with caution. A dozen or more white-faced monkeys swung through the branches, apparently enjoying themselves no end.

  Gayo did not appreciate their antics. He flew up to a treetop above them and shouted in outrage. "¡Hijo de puta! ¡Hijo de puta! ¡Caramba! ¡Ay de mí! ¡Que lástima, what a pity, what a pity!"

  The shower of missiles grew less as the monkeys lost interest. Teresa moved after the men, along the newly cleared track.

  Suddenly she heard a coughing snarl above her, and a rank odour reached her nostrils. She glanced up.

  She looked straight into the golden eyes of a jaguar.

  Chapter 4

  Teresa's horse smelled the jaguar's distinctive scent. With a frightened neigh it reared, then galloped off leaving its rider prone on the ground.

  Startled, breathless, Teresa gaped up at the big cat. It lounged on a branch some fifteen feet above her. In that frozen instant before she began to think, she noted the rounded, white furred ears, the sleek tawny coat stippled with black rosettes. The jaguar gazed at her with impassive eyes. Its black tipped tail twitched and it yawned, its long, sharp teeth gleaming ivory.

  Teresa's first impulse was to faint and let Sir Andrew deal with the situation. He was closer to her than the others and she was sure he would appreciate a chance to play the hero. On the other hand, she had no idea how to go about swooning.

  She did not dare lose sight of the jaguar, but she needed to know what the men were doing. Very slowly she turned her head a little. Sir Andrew was laughing at her! Behind him, his servant, her brothers and the peons all had broad grins on their faces. For a moment she was furious, then she realised that all they knew was that her horse had thrown her.

  Andrew's amusement changed to concern when he saw that Teresa was not moving. He started towards her.

  "Stop!" she hissed. "Jaguar!" She tried to roll her eyes upwards to indicate its position without making a movement that might startle it.

  He stopped, looking puzzled, doubtful. She moved her hand just enough to point. Raising his gaze, he peered into the tangled mass of growth, then she saw his face pale beneath the tan.

  Oscar and Marco came up to him. He pointed and whispered, "A jaguar! Do you see it? In the tree just above her. What can we do?"

  Her eyes on the beast, Teresa heard Oscar say in a low voice, "My rifle is with the horses. I must go round through the jungle to get it."

  "No." Sir Andrew sounded aghast. "It will take too long, and besides, if you only wounded it it would certainly attack. She is too close. There must be something else we can do!"

  "What do you suggest?" Oscar asked helplessly.

  The three men looked at each other in despair. Oscar turned and started hacking his way through the jungle towards the horses.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Teresa caught sight of a movement in the greenery above the jaguar. A pair of dark eyes peered down through the leaves. One of the troop of monkeys had discovered the jaguar. It screeched, and its companions swung down the dangling lianas to join it.

  Fruit and sticks pelted down on their enemy, amidst whoops of fury. The jaguar turned its dispassionate golden gaze on the pests. Its ears twitched and it stirred restlessly. Suddenly Gayo swooped down with a wordless shriek, batting his colourful wings at the big cat's ears.

  “No!” Teresa whispered in dismay.

  But Gayo darted down again with a wordless shriek. Distracted by the parrot and the monkeys, the jaguar seemed to lose interest in Teresa. Her eyes never leaving it, she sat up and began to inch backwards.

  When she had crept some fifteen feet it turned its head and regarded her with calm unconcern. She jumped to her feet and ran, stumbling over roots and vines. Sir Andrew caught her and hugged her to him. She slumped against him, very much aware of his comforting strength. Catching her breath, she turned, his arms still about her, and looked back.

  The jaguar snarled as Gayo swooped down once more. Breaking from Sir Andrew's disturbing clasp, Teresa put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The parrot veered towards her. With majestic composure, the jaguar leaped to the ground and stalked away into the forest without a backward glance.

  In moments, its speckled coat merged with the pattern of light and shadow and it vanished.

  "Hold still a minute," said Marco, and started brushing leaf mould off Teresa's back with a brotherly disregard of her narrow escape.

  "You would almost think he knew what he was doing," exclaimed Sir Andrew as Gayo landed on his shoulder.

  "Of course he knew what he was doing!" snapped Teresa, annoyed with herself for her reaction to the Englishman’s embrace. "Oh stop it, Marco. Where has Oscar got to?"

  There was a crashing in the undergrowth and Oscar appeared, breathless, machete in hand. "What happened? I heard Teresa's whistle."

  "The jaguar jumped down and wandered off into the jungle," said Marco with a grin. "It decided she was not an appetising morsel."

  “A beast of no discernment whatever,” Sir Andrew muttered to himself. He flushed as Teresa’s questioning glance informed him that he had been overheard.

  Oscar had an explanation for her escape. "I found a fresh deer carcass under a bush, half eaten. It must have fed recently. What extraordinary good luck."

  "What luck!" said Gayo complacently, and emitted a deep, rich chuckle.

  Rowson looked at him, startled. "Blimey if that ain't Sanchita's laugh!" He shook his head, a reminiscent look in his eye. "Beg pardon for spoilin' the celebration," he went on, "but was you aware a bunch o' them horses has took off?"

  They all looked to where the maidservant, Josefa, was struggling to control their mounts. Several were missing.

  "Let us hope they stayed on the track," said Oscar, frowning. "Teresa, will you and Sir Andrew go after them, please, while the rest of us finish cutting a passage?"

  Since Teresa's mount had run off with her sidesaddle, she was forced to ride astride one of the remaining horses. She had often done so at home, but with Sir Andrew riding alongside, carefully avoiding looking her way, she was very conscious of her skirts hiked up to her knee, exposing several inches of leg above her high boots. She couldn’t forget how he had taken her in his arms when she had run from the jaguar. A tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth and she glanced at him. His eyes were fixed rigidly ahead.

  They reached the point where their new track had diverged from the old to circle the fallen tree. Teresa's horse was standing by the barrier. It rolled its eyes nervously but came when she called. Rejecting Sir Andrew's assistance, she slid to the ground and tied the spare horse to a sapling, then used a stump to hoist herself onto the sidesaddle. She rearranged her skirts with great care, then grinned at her companion.

  "Better?" she asked.

  "Better," he agreed ruefully. "Of course it would be quite impossible to manage with an English ladies' riding habit in the jungle. You could never have escaped the jaguar without tripping over the train. I find it difficult to rid myself of old prejudices. You must forgive me, Miss Danville."

  "Willingly, sir, since you are willing to admit that they might be unwarranted. Now let us see if we can find the rest of the beasts. I hope they have not gone too far."

  They found the three missing horses milling uneasily at the near end of the last bridge they had crossed. As they calmed and caught them, they saw the reason for their halted flight. On the bridge lay three caimans, one an impressive six-footer that looked quite capable of drowning a horse if it tried.

  "I never thought to be grateful to a crocodile," said Sir Andrew.

  "Ugly brutes," shuddered Teresa. "I had rather meet a snake any day."

  "You doubt your ability to charm these creatures? Come now, you
must have more faith in your powers of enchantment."

  Teresa flushed and looked away. Had there been an unexpected warmth behind his teasing smile, or had she imagined it? She was thoroughly confused.

  Leading the recaptured animals, they rejoined the others. The new trail had rejoined the old, and they had not gone far when they met a train of ox wagons heading for the Meseta Central.

  Loaded with all the household goods of several immigrant families, the two-wheeled carts moved with painful slowness. Men and boys escorted them on horseback, but all the women and girls perched on top of their belongings on the wagons. They stared at Teresa as she rode past.

  Oscar spoke to their guide, a local man he knew slightly, explaining about the new detour, then the two groups parted. Teresa reined in until Sir Andrew drew level with her.

  "Had I insisted on travelling thus," she pointed out, "you'd not reach the coast for a month."

  "I'd not have allowed myself to be persuaded to escort you," he retorted. "A missish female could be nothing but an encumbrance on a journey such as lies ahead of us."

  That, she decided uncertainly, could be taken as a compliment of sorts.

  * * * *

  They reached Siquirres as the sun set behind the mountains. Leaving horses and mules in the care of Juan and Jorge, they entered the public room of the posada, to find a Spanish family already ensconced there.

  Teresa was first into the room. Seeing a black-clad matron sitting in a corner with two girls, she nodded to them. "Buenas tardes, señora."

  The woman looked her up and down, then eyed her companions. They were all travel-stained, weary, but only Teresa was liberally coated with mud, as a result of her encounter with the jaguar. Like a mother hen protecting her chicks, the woman gathered her daughters to her and, ignoring Teresa entirely, swept out of the room.

  Mortified, Teresa looked down at herself. Her clothes were filthy and uncomfortable. She had accepted it as an unavoidable hazard of travel, not considering her appearance. She brushed futilely at her skirt. "I had not realised what a disgraceful sight I am," she said with an attempted laugh. "How I long for a bath!"