The Rover of the Andes: A Tale of Adventure on South America by R. M. Ballantyne (best books to read for students .TXT) 📖

“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 God’s blessing, none of them touched me, and I was soon in the shelter of the woods. I could also hear my friend panting at my heels.

“I’m a pretty fair runner,” continued Pedro, “but my friend is a better. He passed me like a deer. ‘Come on,’ he cried, ‘you’ve no time to lose.’ From which I knew he meant that the blackguards would cross the river in canoes and pursue me. He led me across a spit of jungle-land where the river took a sudden bend, and came out on the bank at the head of a long rapid. On reaching the bank he pulled out a small canoe which had been concealed there, and told me to jump in. ‘You’ll have to run the rapid. It’s not much of a chance, but it’s your only one.’ I squeezed his hand, thanked him hastily, and was soon paddling quickly with the current. In a few moments I heard my friend shouting with rage and brandishing his knife. He was acting, I knew. Looking back I saw that a number of men had joined him, and again the arrows began to drop around me, but I was soon beyond their reach and battling with the rapid.

“Well was it for me that I have been much used to canoeing, for the words of my friend, ‘It’s not much of a chance,’ were literally true. For some minutes I was whirled about by eddies and shoots in such a way that it seems to me now a miracle that I escaped being dashed to pieces several times. I forgot all about my pursuers, so great was the danger; but when at last I ran out of the lowest shoot into the water below the rapids, I saw, on looking back, that they were still following me along the banks. I was going faster, however, than they were, so I felt easier in my mind, till I saw them jump into several canoes and push off in chase. By that time I had more than a mile of start, and the sun was setting. ‘Now, Pedro,’ said I to myself, ‘it’s a fair race for your life; so bend your back to it, my boy.’ I went on till it grew so dark that I could hardly see twenty yards ahead of me. Then I put ashore, hauled the canoe up among the reeds, climbed into a tree and went to sleep, for well I knew that it would be death both to them and me if we continued descending a stream like that in the dark.

“Well, I slept like a top, for I was dead beat; but two or three times I awoke with a tremendous start under the impression that I was falling. I’ve always found it so when obliged to spend the night in the branches of a tree. Did you ever sleep so, Senhor Armstrong?”

Lawrence confessed that he had never yet indulged in such bird-like repose.

“Well, it’s not so difficult as you might think,” continued Pedro, with a meditative gaze at the fire, “especially if you’re very tired, hard pressed for time, and in some danger. Under these circumstances it’s wonderful what a fellow can do to make the best of his opportunities. You find out, somehow, the securest way to twine your legs and arms in among the branches, and twist your feet and fingers into the forks and twigs—don’t you know?”

Yes, Lawrence knew well; at least, if he did not know exactly, he had a powerful imagination!

“Well, then, long before daylight I was up and off, feeling my way as best I could in the first grey glimpses of dawn, so that I got a good start—at least I thought so; but soon I found my pursuers had also started early and were overhauling me; and no wonder, seeing that their canoes were large and well manned. I now felt that I had no chance of escaping by water, but I had by that time got into a part of the country with which I was well acquainted, and knew that if I could only reach a certain point before being caught, I might take to the bush and cross overland to my friend’s hut here. That was early this morning. The only trouble I had was that my wound was beginning to give me considerable pain, and I felt losing strength for want of food. I had scarce time to cat, much less to search for food, they pressed me so hard. However, a man makes a hard struggle for life, so I tightened my belt, and set to work with such good will, that I was soon a long way ahead of them, and got out of sight at a place where the river takes a number of bends and is full of small islands. At last, about noon, I reached the desired point, paddled carefully in among the reeds, so as to prevent the savages seeing where I had landed, jumped ashore, hid the canoe, stepped out as hard as I could, and—here I am.”

“But,” exclaimed Lawrence, with some excitement, “if you left the Indians so recently, won’t they be close on your heels?”

“No fear. I came here in a straight line overland. By the windings of the river they cannot be here, even at the soonest, before the afternoon of to-morrow. But they will probably give up the chase long before getting this length. Besides, if they did arrive, they would find a warm reception from four well-armed men, instead of catching one poor unarmed fugitive. But we won’t give them the chance. We will be up and away by daybreak. Tiger here has agreed to join us in our trip to Buenos Ayres. He will take his wife and family down stream to his father-in-law’s tribe, where they will be safe till his return. Are you all well, and ready for a start?”

“Yes, all well—and shall be ready as soon as you please.”

“That’s right. Where’s Quashy?”

“Close alongside. Don’t you hear him?”

Lawrence referred to a sound like the drone of a giant mosquito, which proceeded from the negro’s nose, for that worthy was a heavy sleeper—when not in danger—and had not been disturbed by the arrival of the guide.

Giving vent to a prolonged yawn, Pedro rose and stretched himself. Then he went up to the sleeping Quashy and took him by the nose, at the same time putting his hand on his mouth to smother the inevitable yell in its birth. When sufficiently awake to be released with safety, the amiable negro was permitted to raise himself, and when aware of who had grasped him, he beamed with good-will, and gleamed with surprise.

“Get up, Quashy, and help them to pack,” said Pedro, curtly, “we start at daybreak.”

Quashy was on his feet in a moment. “Don’t rouse me till it’s time to start,” added Pedro, who thereupon rolled into the vacant hammock, and was asleep—perchance in the land of dreams—almost as soon as his wearied head reposed on the negro’s pillow.