by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER VII
OFF FOR THE JUNGLE
Never will the two boys forget that first trip up the big, turbidSouth American river. From start to finish it was one never endingsuccession of surprises, interests, wonders and delight. The miles ofmangrove swamps, with their aerial roots drooping from the branchesinto the water, lured the boys' imaginations with their mysterious,dark depths. A great flock of scarlet ibis, that rose from theirfeeding ground upon a mud flat and, lighting on the trees, looked likegorgeous fiery blossoms, brought cries of delight from the boys. Theywatched the big greenheart rafts floating silently downstream withtheir Indian crews lolling in hammocks beneath the thatched shelterson the logs. Mr. Thorne pointed out dozing alligators which Tom andFrank had mistaken for logs; he showed them the giant, lily-like waterplants which he said were "mucka mucka," and he called their attentionto countless bright-plumaged birds which flitted in the foliage of theriverside trees. At times the steamer swung in so close to shore thatthe boys caught glimpses of frightened, scurrying iguanas or greatlizards; at other times, it slowed down and stopped before some tinythatched hut at the edge of a clearing and unloaded merchandise orpeople into the huge dugout canoes that put off from shore pulled bybronze-skinned, half-naked men.
"Are they Indians?" asked Tom, as they watched the fellows handlingthe heavy barrels and boxes with ease.
"No, Bovianders," replied Mr. Thorne, "a mixture of Dutch, negro andIndian blood. They're the best boatmen in the colony. I always have aBoviander captain for my boat."
"What does Boviander mean?" asked Frank. "Is it an Indian name?"
"It has a curious origin," the explorer informed him. "It's acorruption of 'above yonder.' In the old days, any one who lived upthe river from the coast was said to live 'above yonder' and graduallythe expression was transformed to 'Boviander.'"
"Well, that _is_ funny!" declared Tom. "I never would haveguessed it."
"You'll find a lot of queer expressions here," laughed the explorer."You'll hear the people speak of 'taking a walk' when they mean a tripin a canoe and you'll hear them say 'topside' when they mean someplace which is indefinite. They also speak of the turns of a stream as'streets' and they all use the native Indian names for birds, animals,and trees. They never say 'tapir' but 'maipuri,' a boa or anaconda isa 'camudi,' a camp is always a 'logi' or 'benab,' a canoe is a'coorial' and so on."
"Gosh, I don't believe I'll ever understand them!" declared Tom, "butI'm going to try. Can't you get one of your Indians to talk? I'd loveto hear that 'talky-talky' lingo you spoke about."
Mr. Thorne laughed. "All right," he assented and, approaching the edgeof the upper deck where the first-class passengers were quartered, heleaned over and beckoned to one of the Indian boys who was dozing in acotton hammock he had swung in the shade.
"Hey, Joseph!" he called. "Makeum for come here, this side."
The Akawoia grinned, stretched himself, and came padding on bare feetup the ladder.
"This fellow Buck name Joseph!" said Mr. Thorne, as the two boyslooked at the pleasant-faced Indian whose head scarcely reached Tom'sshoulder. "He one plenty good boy. Makeum for tellum white boy how canspeakum talky-talky, Joseph."
Joseph half turned his head and, fixing his eyes on the deck, twiddledhis toes in an embarrassed manner.
"No makeum for shame!" went on the explorer. "This fellows white boysmakeum plenty long walk topside 'long we. Him wantum sabbyplenty--wantum sabby Buck talk, wantum sabby bush, how can makeum forhunt, how catchum fish. Must for tellum, Joseph, must for makeum goodfren'."
The Indian grinned and looked up. "Me tellum, Chief," he replied in asoft, low voice. "Me be plenty good fren' lon'side him. How youcall-urn?"
"This fellow makeum call Tom," replied Mr. Thorne, introducing theboys, "Nex' fren' makeum call Frank."
Joseph shook hands gravely with the boys and smiled in a friendly way.
"S'pose you want makeum one walk. S'pose no sabby bush me tellum likeso," he remarked, and then, evidently thinking there was nothing moreto be said, he turned and walked silently away.
"Why, that's easy!" cried Frank as the Indian left. "I'll bet I cantalk that now. You no sabby Tom, me tellum you all same Joseph. Howyou likeum talky-talky like so?"
"Splendid!" cried Mr. Thorne, and all three roared with laughter atFrank's first attempt at talking the Indian jargon.
The banks of the stream had now changed from the low mangrove swampsto bluffs and hills of sand; the dense tangle of weeds, mucka-muckaand vines had given place to lofty trees. There were heavy forestsstretching away into the distance; tiny clearings and cultivated landshowed here and there and the boys caught glimpses of numerous,open-sided, thatched huts among the trees. From time to time flocks ofparrots flew swiftly overhead, screeching loudly as they winged theirway across the river; herons, blue, gray and white, flapped up at thesteamer's approach. In backwaters covered with gigantic lily leavesthe boys saw tiny brown and yellow birds running about, apparentlytreading on the water, and these Mr. Thorne told them were jacanas,whose long toes enabled them to walk upon the leaves of water plantswithout sinking.
Then the current of the river became swifter, the steamer chugged andstruggled and panted and Mr. Thorne explained that the tide hadturned.
"You don't mean to say that they have a tide clear up here!" exclaimedTom in surprise.
"For nearly one hundred miles up the rivers," the explorer assuredhim. "Of course, the salt water doesn't come up here, but the tidebacks up the rivers so there is a rise and fall of nearly six feet upto the first rapids or cataracts as they are called."
"Jimminy, are there rapids?" asked Frank.
"Rapids!" ejaculated Mr. Thorne. "Why, my boy, there are nothing butrapids. It's just one rapid and fall after another."
"Hurrah, that will be great!" declared Frank. "I've always wanted torun rapids."
"You'll run enough to last you for life," Mr. Thorne assured him. "Andyou'll have enough of them and to spare. It's all right running themwhen you're coming downstream, but it's slow, heartbreaking work goingup. Why, it often takes days to haul up a rapid that we shoot in lessthan an hour coming down."
"I see where I'd like to have that blamed old plane," exclaimedRawlins, who had arrived in time to hear the explorer's remarks. "Ifthey see us coming, there won't be much chance of catching them. Aplane's the thing for this country."
"Leave that to the Indians," chuckled Mr. Thorne, "When we locate theplane the rest will be easy--that is, if we can overcome the Bucks'superstitions enough to get them to touch the plane."
"By glory, that's a good idea!" declared the diver. "If they seeIndians they won't be suspicious and they'll never know we're nearuntil we march in and say 'hands up.'"
"They won't see the Indians," said Mr. Thorne decisively. "You don'tknow the Guiana red man, Mr. Rawlins. A shadow is a noisy and tangiblething compared with him."
"Oh, look, there's a ship!" cried Tom, pointing ahead to where themasts of a large vessel showed above the trees.
"Yes, she's off Wisniar--loading greenheart, I expect," assented theexplorer. "We're almost at the end of our steamer trip."
"But how did a big ship get up here?" inquired Frank.
"Ocean liners can come up here," replied Mr. Thorne. "The river isdeep and it's not unusual to see several big tramps up here loadinggreenheart or even farther up at Akyma loading bauxite--aluminum ore,that is. An American company is developing a large mine there."
"Oh, there's the town!" cried Tom.
A few moments later, the steamer was being moored to a rickety wharfbefore the little settlement and the boys were surprised to see adiminutive locomotive and a train of toylike cars standing on a tracknear the landing.
"Why, they have a railway here!" exclaimed Prank. "Pshaw! this isn'twild a bit."
"It's the jumping-off place of civilization," said Mr. Thorne. "Therailway merely runs across to Rockstone, a settlement on the EssequiboRiver."
Rapidly the motley crowd of passengers dis
embarked, Mr. Thome's twoIndians, reenforced by five others who appeared to spring by magicfrom nowhere, shouldered the party's baggage, and Mr. Thorne led theway to a large dug-out canoe which was moored near the dock.
"We'll spend the night across the river," he explained, as the Indianspiled their loads in the "coorial" and the boys and their companionsseated themselves. "There is a hotel here," he continued, "but it's arotten hole and my Boviander captain has a nice place where we can befar more comfortable."
Pushing off from shore, the Indians grasped their paddles and withswift, powerful strokes drove the craft diagonally across the river,swung it deftly into a small creek, and ran its bow on to a mud bankfrom which a notched log led up to the higher land.
Standing at the head of the improvised steps was a powerfully built,yellow man with grizzled curly hair, a heavy mustache and a pair ofkeen gray eyes.
"Howdy!" he greeted them with a pleasant smile, "I'se please to seeyou retarn, Chief."
Mr. Thorne shook his hand warmly. "Glad you were here, Colcord," heexclaimed. "These are the gentlemen and the boys that are going upriver with me." Then, turning to the others, "This is Captain Colcord,my boat captain," he announced. "And there's none better in thecolony."
The Boviander flushed under his dark skin and then, shaking hands witheach member of the party in turn, led the way along a narrow pathbetween the trees.
"You'll have to tell Colcord something of our plans," said Mr. Thorne,speaking to Mr. Pauling in subdued tones. "He's perfectly dependableand can keep a secret, but we can't accomplish much unless he knowswhat we want to do."
"Very well," assented the other. "I trust to your judgment, Thorne."
Colcord's house proved a revelation to the boys. It was merely a hugeopen shed, with a high, thatched roof, a floor of hewn boards raisedseveral feet above the earth, and one small room partitioned off bywattled palm leaves. Its furnishings consisted of a rough table ofnative wood, a few cheap chairs, a number of big hammocks, anickel-plated alarm clock, and an American lantern. On the raftersoverhead were spread woven palm leaf mats on which were placed Indianbaskets and trays; a huge red earthen jug of water stood on a tripodof hard wood sticks; a long, highly polished bow and several six-footarrows were laid upon a timber; and a single-barreled gun stood in acorner. It seemed scarcely more than a camp and might well have beenthe home of an Indian, but they soon found that this rude andprimitive dwelling was very comfortable and that, despite itssimplicity and its meager furnishings, no necessity was lacking.
Colcord's wife, who appeared to be of nearly pure Indian blood, wasbusy over a tiny fire in a small shed in the rear and no sooner hadthe Indian boatmen brought the baggage into the house than they joinedher and seemed perfectly at home. Presently the Akawoia, Joseph,appeared, carrying a steaming earthenware pot, and Colcord rapidlyproduced dishes and cutlery and set the table. As he moved about andJoseph brought in more steaming dishes, the boys lolled in thehammocks in the deliciously cool breeze and idly watched the chickens,doves, and woefully thin dogs that swarmed about the house. They knewthat less than a mile distant was a town, with railway trains, asawmill, and shipping, and that only a few hours' travel by steamerwas the big busy port of Georgetown, and yet, they could not helpfeeling that they were in the heart of the jungle and far beyond thereach of civilization.
"Gosh, isn't it great!" exclaimed Tom. "This is really camping out."
"You bet!" replied Frank. "I wonder if there are any wild animalsabout."
"Plenty deer," declared Colcord, who overheard Frank. "I made fo' tokill one this marnin'. I 'spect you folks plenty hungry, no?"
"Well, I have got a mighty good appetite," admitted Tom.
"Me too," added Frank. "Gee, that food smells good!"
"O. K., then," declared the Boviander. "Jus' draw up an' he'pyourselves. I 'spect you're not accustom' to rough livin' like this,an I have to 'pologize fo' not havin' more better."
"Now don't say a word!" Mr. Thorne admonished him, as the party drewchairs to the table. "I'll bet they never tasted anything better thanthis venison and yams and pepper pot, and it's like the Ritz comparedto what we'll be getting from now on."
Every one declared that Mr. Thorne was right and that they had nevertasted anything to equal the roast venison, the boiled yams, the friedplantains and the pepper pot.
The boys were particularly enthusiastic over the last and also overthe crisp, toasted cassava bread and were greatly surprised to learnthat both were made from the deadly poisonous bitter cassava root.
"The juice is the poisonous part," explained Mr. Thorne. "After it'ssqueezed out through a cylindrical sieve called a 'metapee'--that'sone hanging over in the corner--any traces of the poison, which isprussic acid, are driven off by baking the meal into these cakes. Thepoisonous juice boiled down makes the pepper pot. It has the propertyof preserving meat and giving it this delicious flavor. It's reallythe national dish of Guiana."
"Well, it's good enough to be the national dish of any country,"declared Rawlins. "Just fill my plate up again, Mr. Thorne."
The meal over, the party made themselves comfortable in the hammocksand, as pipes were lighted, the explorer told Colcord that they weregoing in search of an aircraft which had last been sighted flying tothe south over Wismar.
"It's of the utmost importance that we find it," he said. "The men init are desperate criminals and Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson areofficials sent out by the United States Government to get them. Theywant those men dead or alive--alive preferably--and we expect you tohelp us. We have no idea where the machine is, but we have an ideathey are hiding somewhere not far away. Now do you suppose we cantrail that plane and get the men, Colcord?"
"Yes, Sir--Chief," replied the Boviander confidently. "But we'll neverfin' it over this side, Chief. That airship's went up the Essequibotopside. I was makin' a walk up beyon' Malali for locus' gum an' Inever cotch a glimmer of it, but ol' Charlie--the Macusi what livesover Mule Pen side, you know--he was huntin' pacu on the Tukumi Creekan' he mek to get mos' frighted to death when she fly over. Yes,Chief, I sure we make our walk up the Essequibo top side we boun' forto find she."
"Hmm, very likely," agreed the explorer. "Can we get a boat atRockstone?"
"I can' say rightly, Chief," replied Colcord. "But I 'spect you can.Le's see, they's seven of you, an' we'll need a plenty good size boatan' 'bout ten men an' bowman asides me. You got Joseph, an' Billy an'Bagot an' Carlos an' Theophilus an' Abr'ham. That's six, an' I reckonI can s'cure free more boys an' Boters for bowman, but I can' rightlysay 'bout the nex' man."
"Ah can paddle," put in Sam who had been very silent. "Ah don' lay todo narthin'."
The Bovinander glanced approvingly at the Bahaman's powerful arms andshoulders. "Yes, son, I 'spect you can," he agreed. "You surely is astrong-lookin' boy."
Everything was soon arranged, one of the Indians was sent off tonotify the men Colcord had in view, and, in preparation for an earlystart the next morning, all turned in almost as soon as it was dark.
The boys had never before slept in hammocks and, although Mr. Thorneand Colcord showed them how to wrap themselves in their blankets andlie diagonally across the hammocks, it was some time before they couldmake themselves comfortable and go to sleep. It was a new sensation tobe thus going to bed practically in the open air and for a long timethe boys remained awake, listening to the multitude of strange andunusual sounds which issued from every side. There were chirps,whistles, squeaks, and strident songs of insects; thousands of frogscroaked and barked and grunted; night birds called plaintively; owlshooted and from the forest in the distance came a roaring,reverberating bellow which Tom was sure must be a jaguar. But Mr.Thorne laughed and assured him it was merely a troop of howlingmonkeys or baboons and, to put the boys more at ease, he patientlyidentified each of the unusual noises that disturbed them. Gradually,realizing that there was nothing more dangerous than frogs or monkeysto be feared, and assured by the explorer that even the vampire batswould keep away as long as the l
antern was kept burning, the two boysquieted down and, watching the myriad giant fireflies, dropped off tosleep.
It seemed as if they had scarcely closed their eyes when Colcord'scheery cry of "Fireside" aroused them and they sat up, yawningsleepily, to find the sky across the river pink and gold with thecoming dawn.
It was cold and chilly and the steaming coffee which Colcord had readywas very welcome.
"Golly, I thought the tropics were hot!" exclaimed Frank, as he beathis arms about and tried to keep his teeth from chattering.
Mr. Thorne chuckled. "Not at night--in the bush," he replied. "You'llfind colder nights than this after we get farther up river."
"Whew! I'll want an overcoat then," declared Tom, "or a furnace fire!"
But the boys' chill was only temporary and a little exercise, combinedwith piping hot food, soon made them forget all about the cold morningair and by the time they were ready to embark in the canoe and crossthe river the air was balmy and springlike.
The boys found little of interest on their ride across from Wismar toRockstone by the railway, for the train passed through land which hadbeen stripped of its forests by the lumbermen and the few remainingtrees stood gaunt and dead above a tangle of weeds and shrubs. But atRockstone they were delighted, for, close to the station, flowed thegreat Essequibo River, dark and mysterious, with its shores covered bythe impenetrable tropic jungle. To them this mile-wide, silentlyflowing stream gave an impression of the unknown and savored ofadventures to come, for Mr. Thorne had told them that its source wasnear the borders of Brazil and that much of its rapid andcataract-filled course led through country never seen or penetrated bywhite men.
The boat was ready and waiting, for the Indian sent by Colcord hadmade his way across to Rockstone and had arranged everything, andalready the additional members of the crew and the bowman were stowingthe outfit in the craft.
Within half an hour of their arrival the boys and their friends wereseated under the arched canvas awning or "tent" near the stem, thenine Indian paddlers, with Sam, were in their places, and the bowman,grasping a huge paddle, was perched precariously on the boat's prow.Colcord stepped on to the stern and slipped an enormous paddle througha bight of rope. Then, to his shout of "Way-ee-oo!" the ten paddlesdug into the water as one, the heavy, spoon-bottomed boat sprangforward, and Colcord straining at his great steering paddle, headedthe speeding craft upstream. Five minutes later Rockstone with itshouses, its railway station and its docks, slipped from sight behind awooded point and only the sullen, mighty river and the endless junglestretched ahead.
