The Rover of the Andes by Robert Michael Ballantyne (8 ebook reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: Robert Michael Ballantyne
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Little did Lawrence dream of the part that peculiar pet was to play before the period of three days closed.
It was on the evening of the third day. They were all seated round a fire at supper, in front of the hut. Lawrence sat beside Manuela, as usual, and was taking much pains to teach her the correct pronunciation of an English word, of which she made a wonderful bungle, and seemed to derive much amusement from the fact, to judge from her occasional peals of silvery laughter. We use the word advisedly, in deference to the feelings of our hero, who thought and called the laughter silvery!
Tiger sat on the girl's other side, and Quashy was seated opposite, with Little Cub and several of the lesser cubs beside him. The pet jaguar crouched close to its stake, glaring at them. There was nothing unusual either in the attitude or the glare to cause anxiety, yet Lawrence did not like it, and while engaged in imparting the difficult lesson referred to, kept his eye on the brute.
Suddenly, without warning or roar, the dangerous pet sprang at Manuela! Why it selected her we cannot imagine, unless it was that, being a brute of good taste, it chose her as the tenderest of the party. The strong cord by which it was fastened snapped like a piece of thread, but Lawrence threw himself in front of the girl, caught the animal by the throat, and held him with both hands, as if in a vice. Instantly every claw of the four paws was buried in the flesh of his legs and arms, and he would certainly have been fearfully rent by his powerful antagonist if Tiger had not, with lightning stroke, buried his long keen knife in the animal's heart.
So swiftly and effectually was the deed done, that the jaguar next moment hung limp and dead in our hero's grasp. Dropping it on the ground, he turned up his sleeves to examine the wounds.
"Deep enough, but not lacerated, thank God," he said. "They won't give me much trouble. Come, Quash, into the bush, and help me to look at the other scratches and dress them. I must appoint you assistant-surgeon for the occasion!"
Manuela murmured her thanks in a deep, tremulous voice that said much for her power of gratitude, and, timidly taking the youth's hand as he passed, humbly touched it with her lips.
The wounds were soon dressed, and, thanks to Tiger's promptitude, they did not afterwards give much trouble.
That night, as they were about to retire to their several hammocks, Lawrence went up to the Indian girl, and, for the first time, held out his hand for a shake in the white man's fashion.
"I'm glad, Manuela," he said, as she frankly grasped it, "that it has pleased God to make me the instrument of--of--protecting you."
"Twice," replied the girl quickly, and then paused, with a confused look,--"how you say, twice--or two times?"
"Say which you like," replied Lawrence, with a hearty laugh; "the words will sound equally well from _your_ lips, but `twice' is the right way."
"Well, twice you have save me. I am gratitude. My father will be gratitude."
"Tell me, Manuela," returned Lawrence, earnestly, "is your father a chief?"
"Yes,--a great chief."
There was a peculiar smile on the girl's lips as she said this that disconcerted him. We have said that he was naturally shy. He had intended to follow up his first question by asking if her father was descended from the Incas, but the peculiar smile checked him. He bade her good-night, and turned abruptly away.
While he was sitting by the fire meditating on this matter, he heard a step in the bushes. Tiger, who had already retired to his hammock, also heard it, and bounded to his feet. Next instant Pedro glided into the circle of light and saluted them.
He appeared to be worn out with exhaustion, for, flinging himself on the ground beside the fire, he rested his head in silence for a few minutes on a poncho. Then, observing a piece of manioca cake that had been dropped by some one at supper, he took it up and ate it almost ravenously.
"Why, you seem to be starving, Pedro," said Lawrence, earnestly
"Not so bad as that," returned Pedro with a faint smile. "A man can scarcely be said to starve with so many of the fruits of the earth around him. But I've been hard pressed since early morning, and--"
"Stay," interrupted Lawrence, "before you say another word, I will go and fetch you some food."
"No need, senhor. My old friend Spotted Tiger has forestalled you."
This was true. The Indian, having seen at a glance how matters stood, had gone up to the hut without speaking. He now returned with a bowl of boiled maize, a bunch of bananas, and a jar of water.
While his friend was busy with these, he asked a few questions, which Pedro answered briefly.
From the expression of the Indian's face, Lawrence gathered that these replies caused him some anxiety. As the guide's appetite became gradually appeased his loquacity increased, but he made few remarks to Lawrence until the meal was finished. Then, turning to him with a sigh of contentment, he said--
"I've been slightly wounded, senhor, but I doubt not that you can soon put me all right."
Taking off his poncho as he spoke, and pushing aside his light cotton shirt, he revealed the fact that his left breast was bound with a piece of blood-stained calico.
Lawrence at once examined the wound.
"A slight wound, indeed," he said, "but vigorously dealt. I can see that,--and you've had a narrow escape, too. Half an inch higher up would have been fatal."
"Yes, it was meant to kill," was Pedro's quiet rejoinder; "but, thank God, I had a friend near who meant to save, and he turned the knife aside in time. Sit down now, I'll tell you how it happened.
"My business required me to visit a certain tribe of Indians at a considerable distance from here, where the country is somewhat disturbed, and the white inhabitants are threatening to cut each other's throats by way of mending political affairs. They took me for a spy. It is not the first time that I have been taken for a spy, and I suppose it won't be the last," continued Pedro, with a grave smile. "Of course I protested my innocence, explained my object, and showed that my visit was one of peace. They would have let me go if an enemy had not been in the camp. You see, Senhor Armstrong, I have many enemies as well as friends everywhere."
"That is always the case with men who hold decided principles, and try to act up to them with vigour," returned Lawrence.
"So I have found it," rejoined Pedro, looking earnestly at his young friend. "You have had a more varied experience of life than I. Has that been your experience too?"
"It has. But I suspect that my experience of life has not been so much varied as yours, Pedro, for it has been chiefly among civilised communities until now. Still, I have observed that it is only those who swim with the current of public opinion, and jostle nobody, who manage to keep friends with everybody. When a man ventures to think for himself,--as he ought to do,--and take action, he is sure to have enemies as well as friends,--supposing, of course, that he is a man of any power or influence."
"Well, I suppose it is because I _try_ to have influence," rejoined Pedro, "that I manage to have plenty of friends and foes,--the last being sometimes unreasonably bitter."
"That proves your influence to be powerful," said Lawrence.
"H'm! it may be so. I know not. Time will show. At all events, this enemy of mine stirred up a number of men like himself in the camp to such an extent that they seized me, and carried me to the banks of their river, with the purpose of throwing me to the alligators. Some of those who were in my favour ran along with them, and among them I observed one man who I knew would be willing to risk his life for me. This gave me hope; but my enemy did not approve of the mode of my execution; he thought--rightly--that a chance of escape was involved in it; so, to make sure, I suppose, he came close up, and when they were on the point of throwing me into the river, he drew his knife and made a plunge at my heart. My friend must have suspected something of the sort, for he had also pushed close to me, and I saw him give the would-be murderer the jostle that turned his knife aside.
"Next moment I was in the river. I knew that it swarmed with alligators, and felt an uncomfortable thrill as I went in head foremost; but I knew also that I was a strong and swift swimmer, so I struck out for my life to the opposite bank, which was not more than forty yards off. I splashed as much as I could, for you know, senhor, that splashing tends to keep alligators off, though it is not always successful. Before I had made half a dozen strokes, however, I felt my flesh creep. Do you know what it feels like to have your flesh creep?"
"No, not exactly," replied Lawrence; "but I have a pretty good guess as to what you mean."
"Well," resumed the guide, "I felt my flesh creep, for I heard a most awful puffing and splashing close behind me. At the same time I heard a wild cheer on the bank, as if my foes were rejoicing at the prospect of my being eaten up! I looked back quickly, expecting to see the terrible jaws and the long rows of teeth; but, to my great surprise, I saw only my friend pursuing me with his knife in his teeth, as if he wanted to finish me. I understood the thing at once. The good fellow knew that two could make a better splashing than one, and he also hoped, no doubt, that his comrades would give him credit for extreme bravery in thus jumping into such danger for the sake--as they would suppose--of killing an enemy! The cheer they gave him showed what they thought on that point.
"We both gained the opposite bank--I a few yards in advance. You may be sure I was not slow in bounding up the bank. I could hear the howl of rage with which the villains saw the failure of their plan. What is more, I could both hear and see the arrows that were sent after me, but, through
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