Chapter 17
absent from home. Again Duppo knocked, and obtaining no reply, opened the door and cautiously looked in. No one was within. What were we to do? Were we to wait for the return of the owner, or go back to our settlement? I advised that Maono should be carried within, and proposed waiting till he appeared. We lifted him up and placed him under the shade of the verandah. Meantime Duppo collected a number of dried leaves, with which to form a bed, as he was not in a fit state to be placed in a hammock. I then advised Illora to send Duppo for water, while Arthur and I went out and searched for the recluse, in the hope that he might be in the neighbourhood. We first went to his plantation, thinking that he might be there, but could nowhere find him. It appeared, indeed, as if it had not been lately visited, as it was in a far more disordered state than when we had before seen it. We were afraid of going into the forest, lest we should lose our way; we therefore turned back and proceeded up the igarape, which would serve as a guide to us. It grew wilder and wilder as we went on. At length we reached a spot which we could not possibly pass. The trunks of the mighty trees grew close to the water, their roots striking down into it, while thousands of sipos and air-plants hung in tangled masses overhead, and huge ferns with vast leaves formed a dense fringe along the banks. Near us the trunk of an aged tree, bending over the water, covered with parasitic plants, had been seized by the sipos from the opposite side, and hung, as it were, caught in their embrace, forming a complete bridge across the igarape. I have already described these wonderful air-plants. They here appeared in greater numbers and more varied form than any we had yet seen. Flights of macaws and parroquets flew here and there through the openings, or climbed up and down, cawing and chattering in various tones. Although I should have liked to have obtained some, I saw that, should I kill any, they would have fallen where it would be impossible to get at them, for even True could not have made his way through the wood; and I was afraid that if they fell into the water, he might be snapped up by an alligator who might be lurking near.
We were on the point of turning away, when Arthur exclaimed, "I see something moving high up the igarape, among those huge leaves." I scrambled down to where he was standing, and presently, amid the dim light, a human figure came into view. At first it seemed as if he was standing on the water, but as he slowly approached we saw that a raft of some sort was beneath his feet. He was hauling himself along by the branches, which hung low down, or the tall reeds or leaves fringing the banks.
"I do believe it is the recluse," whispered Arthur to me. "What can have happened to him?" We waited till he came nearer. He looked even wilder and more careworn than usual. He had no covering on his head except his long hair, while he had thrown off his coat, which lay on the raft. Slowly and not without difficulty he worked his way on. He did not perceive us till he was close to where we stood.
"Can we help you, sir?" I said. "We came to look for you."
"What induced you to do that?" he asked. "I thought no human being would care for me."
"But we do, sir," said Arthur, almost involuntarily. "You can be of service to one of your friends, a poor Indian, who has been severely hurt."
"Ah! there is something to live for then!" he exclaimed, looking up at us. "But I must have your assistance too. I have injured my leg; and had I not been able to reach the igarape and construct this raft, I must have perished in the forest. I have with difficulty come thus far, and should have had to crawl to my hut, as I purposed doing, had you not appeared to assist me. My canoe I had left a league or two further away, and could not reach it."
"Oh, we will gladly help you, sir," exclaimed Arthur; "and if you will let us, we will tow the raft down nearer to the hut."
"It is strange that you should have come; and I accept your offer," answered the recluse.
We soon cut some long sipos, and fastening them together we secured one end to the raft. The recluse sat down, evidently much exhausted by his previous exertions; and while we towed the raft along, he kept it off the bank with a long pole. When we got down opposite the hut, we assisted him to land. He could not move, however, without great difficulty.
"Let me go and call Mora and Duppo, that we may carry you in the litter on which I was brought to your hut," said Arthur. "No, no; I can get on, with your assistance, without that," answered the recluse, placing his arms on our shoulders. He groaned several times, showing the pain he suffered; but still he persevered, and at length we reached the hut. We had great difficulty in getting him up the ladder. When he saw Maono, he seemed to forget all about himself.
"My hurt can wait," he observed. "We must attend to this poor fellow." Having examined the Indian's head, he produced a salve, which he spread on a cloth, and again bound it up. "A European would have died with such a wound," he observed; "but with his temperate blood, he will, I hope, escape fever."
Having attended to his guest, he allowed Arthur and I to assist him in binding up his leg, and in preparing a couch for him in his own room, instead of the hammock in which he usually slept. He explained to Illora how she was to treat her husband, and gave her a cooling draught which he was to take at intervals during the night. Having slung his hammock in the outside room, Arthur and I lay down, one at each end; while the Indian woman sat up to keep watch, and Duppo coiled himself away on one of the chests.
At daybreak, Arthur, hearing the recluse move, got up and asked him if he could be of any service.
"Yes, my good lad," answered our host; "you can help me to bind this limb of mine afresh. Bring me yonder jar of ointment!" I heard what was said, though I could not see what was going forward. "Thank you, my lad," said the recluse. "No woman's hand could have done it better. Now go and see how the Indian has passed the night."
Arthur came out, and having looked at Maono, reported that he was still sleeping quietly.
"He must not be disturbed then," was the answer. "When he wakes I will attend to him. Now, go and see what food you can obtain. My plantations will afford you some; or if not, your brother will be able to shoot some birds. He will find troops of toucans and parrots not far off. Some farinha will be sufficient for me."
"Harry will, I am sure, do his best to kill some game," said Arthur; "but you called him my brother. Though he is a dear friend, we are not related. He has father, and mother, and sisters; and the gentleman you saw is his brother; but I have no relations--none to care for me except these kind friends."
"I know not if you are to be pitied then," said the recluse. "If you have none to care for you, you are free to take your own way."
"Oh, but I do care for the kind friends who brought me out here," exclaimed Arthur. "And I feel that I care for you; and I ought to do so, as you took care of me and nursed me when I was ill." The recluse was silent, and Arthur came into the larger apartment.
The recluse was sufficiently recovered during the day to be placed in his more airy hammock in the outer room. His eyes, I observed, were constantly following Arthur. "It is strange," I heard him whispering to himself. "There is a resemblance, and yet, it is so unlikely."
Maono was going on favourably; and the recluse was able to crawl from his hammock to attend to him as often as was necessary. I was very anxious to get back to Ellen and John; especially to assist in finishing the canoe, that we might at soon as possible recommence our voyage down the river. I proposed, therefore, that Arthur and I should set off at once, as I thought we could find our way through the forest without difficulty. The recluse seemed far from pleased at my proposal.
"I would not deprive you of the society of your friend," he said, "but he will be of great assistance to me if he can remain; and you can call for him when you come down the river. Instead of him, take the boy Duppo with you. He may be of more use in guiding you through the forest. The Indian woman will probably wish to remain with her husband."
I found that Arthur was ready to stay with the recluse. "Poor man," he said, "I may, I think, be of some service in soothing his mind, as well as assisting him as he wishes. I do not like to leave you, Harry; but if you do not object, I will remain. I wish, however, that you would go in the canoe."
"She is too heavy, I fear, to paddle against the stream," I answered; "and if I have Duppo as a guide, I would rather return through the forest."
I explained this to the Indians, who at once consented that Duppo should return with me; while Illora remained to nurse her husband. As there was time to reach our location before dark, I begged to set off at once. Duppo and I stored our wallets with fresh farinha; and I hoped to kill a toucan, or a brace of parrots, on our way, which would afford us sufficient food. As no time was to be lost, we set off at once. Duppo showed some affection when parting from his mother. She was certainly less demonstrative, however, than a European would have been. He was evidently very proud of being allowed to attend on me.
He led the way with unerring instinct through the forest; and I felt that there was no danger of losing the path, as John and I had done when travelling in the same direction. I kept my eyes about me as we proceeded, hoping to shoot some game, as we had but a limited supply of food. I got a shot at a toucan, which was climbing with bill and claws up a tree above our heads. It hung on to the branch for an instant, and I was afraid I should lose it. Its claws and beak, however, soon let go, and down it came, its beautiful plumage shining in the sun as it fell. I could scarcely bring myself to kill it; but I had to confess that necessity has no laws, and should as willingly at that moment have shot the most gaily-coloured macaw or parroquet. It would, however, afford Duppo and I, and True, but a scanty meal; I therefore kept my gun ready for another shot.
Going on a little further, directly in front of us a beautiful deer started up from behind a thicket. True darted forward, and flew at the creature, which turned round and round to defend itself. I thus had the opportunity of having a good aim, and wounded the deer in the neck. Duppo started off in pursuit. He had brought his father's blow-pipe instead of his own, which he had lost. It was too heavy, however, for him to manage. I thought we should have lost the deer; but kneeling down, he raised it on a hanging sipo, and let fly an arrow, which struck the animal. He had time to send another shaft before the deer got out of sight. Then calling to me, he urged me to pursue it. Away we went through the forest, True at the heels of the deer, and I following Duppo as closely as I could. Still, notwithstanding its wounded condition, there seemed every probability of its escaping. Duppo thought otherwise, and continued the pursuit; though I could not perceive either the animal or its track. He was right, however; for in ten minutes we again caught sight of it, moving slowly. Just as we reached it, it sank to the ground. It was the first deer we had killed; though I had seen several scampering in the distance through the more open parts of the forest, and I believe they are numerous along the banks of the Amazon and its tributaries. We packed up as much of the flesh as we could carry, and hung the remainder on the branch of a tree.
We were walking on with our loads, when a loud crashing sound echoed through the forest. I had never seen Duppo show any sign of fear before, but he now came close up to me, trembling all over. "What is the matter?" I asked. All was again silent for some minutes. Then came from the far distance the melancholy howl, which had often kept us awake at night--the cries, I felt sure, of howling monkeys. They again ceased; and a loud clang sounded through the forest, such as I had read of in that wonderful romance, "The Castle of Otranto." Duppo grew more and more alarmed; and now caught hold of my jacket, as if I could protect him. I was puzzled to account for the sound; but still I saw nothing very alarming in it. When, however, a loud piercing cry rent the air, coming, I could not tell from whence, I confess that I felt somewhat uncomfortable. Poor Duppo trembled all over, and clung to my arm, exclaiming, "_Curupira_! _curupira_!" True pricked up his ears, and barked in return. "Do not be afraid, Duppo," I said, trying to encourage him. "It may have been only the shriek of a monkey, caught by a jaguar or puma." He, however, seemed in no way disposed to be satisfied by any explanations which I could suggest of the noises we had heard.
As we proceeded, he tried to explain to me that he was sure that that part of the forest was haunted by a spirit, which made the noises. It was like a huge monkey, covered with long shaggy hair. He committed, he said, all sorts of mischief. He had a wife and family, whom he taught to do as much harm as himself; and that, if they caught us, they would certainly play us some trick. I tried to laugh away his fears, but not with much success.
At last he gained a little more confidence, and walked on ahead to show the way. No other sound was heard. He looked back anxiously to see that I was close to him.
Among the fruits I observed numbers of a curious bean-like description. Several species had pods fully a yard long hanging to delicate stalks, and, of course, very slender. Others were four inches wide, and short. While I was looking down to pick up some of the curious beans I have mentioned, I saw the big head of a creature projecting from a hole. For a moment I thought it was a large serpent, but presently out hopped a huge toad in pursuit of some little animal which had incautiously ventured near its den. Presently it gave sound to a most extraordinary loud snoring kind of bellow, when True dashed forward and caught it. I rescued the creature before his teeth had crushed it. On recovering its liberty, it croaked away as lustily as before. On measuring it, I found it fully seven inches long, and as many broad. It had a considerable enlargement of the bone over the eyes, while the glands behind the head were of great size. I knew it thus to be the agua toad--_Bufa agua_. I had no doubt that he and his brothers produced some of the hideous noises we had heard at night. I have since read that these toads will kill rats, and that a number of them were carried to Jamaica for the purpose of keeping down the swarms of rats which devastated the plantations of that island. I found, indeed, the bones of several rodent animals near its den. It was somewhat remarkable, but a few minutes afterwards I saw another toad lying quietly on the ground. I kept True back, not wishing to let him hurt the creature. I saw some small animals moving on its back, and stooping down, what was my surprise to see a number of little toads scrambling out of holes apparently in its skin. First out came one, and slipping down the fat sides of the big toad, hopped along on the ground. Another little head directly afterwards burst its way through the skin, and imitated the example of its small brother. Several others followed. Even Duppo, in spite of his late fright, could not help bursting out laughing. The colour of the big toad was a brownish-olive and white below; but the head was most extraordinary, as it had a snout almost pointed, the nostrils forming a kind of leathery tube. The creature was, I at once guessed, the Surinam toad--_Pipa Americana_--which I knew was found, not only in Surinam, but in other parts of this region. It is, though one of the ugliest of its race, one of the most interesting. The male toad, as soon as the eggs are laid, takes them in its paws, and places them on the back of the female. Here, by means of a glutinous secretion, they adhere, and are imbedded, as it were, in a number of cells formed for them in the skin. Ultimately a membrane grows over the cells and closes them up. The eggs are here hatched, and the young remain in them till their limbs have grown and they can manage to take care of themselves. The skin of the back is very thick, and allows room for the formation of the cells, each of which is sufficiently large to contain a small-sized bean placed in it edgeways. As soon as the brood have left the cells, they are again closed, giving a very wrinkled appearance to the back. Duppo made signs to me that the creature was good to eat; but I must say, I should have been very hard pressed for food before I should have been tempted to try it. I succeeded in dragging True away, and prevented him interfering with the family arrangements of the wonderful _batrachian_.
We met with several other curious frogs and toads, but the creatures which abounded everywhere, and unfortunately surpassed all others in numbers, were the ants--_termites_. The termites, I should remark, differ from the true ants by appearing out of the egg with their limbs formed, and in the same shape they bear through life. Some we met with in our walk were an inch and a quarter in length, and stout in proportion. The creatures were marching in single file, coming out from a hole formed in the roots of a small tree. I took up one to examine it, and received a sting for my pains, but the pain soon went off. We all suffered much more from the stings of several smaller ants, especially the fire-ants, by which we had on more than one occasion been attacked.
Although I had twice before made the trip through the forest, I still felt certain that we were far from the hut, when Duppo signified to me that we should soon reach it. Just then I heard a shot, and a magnificent macaw fell down a short distance ahead of us. True dashed forward, and directly afterwards I heard John's voice. I hurried on.
"Yes, we are all well," answered John to my inquiries, as he took my load of venison and slung it over his more sturdy shoulders. "The canoe is finished, and we were only waiting for your return to set out. No positive news about our parents; but the Indians describe having seen a canoe with white people, women among them, pass down the river several weeks ago Ellen feels sure it was they who were seen; though, as is sometimes the case with her, dear girl, she can give no other reason than her own feelings. I am disappointed at not seeing Arthur; but we must put in to take him on board, and save him the journey through the forest."
Of course John wanted to know all about our adventures, and I briefly recounted them as we walked homewards.
"It is, indeed, a mercy that your life was saved," he observed. "I would almost advise you not to tell Ellen all the fearful dangers you went through; it will make her nervous, for she even now sometimes dreads that the Majeronas will again attack us."
"They will certainly not come so far by water," I remarked; "and our friends will give us warning should they venture by land. Still, as the canoe is ready, we ought not to delay in commencing our voyage."
As soon as we emerged from the thick part of the forest, we caught sight of Ellen watching for us in front of the hut. She came running forward, followed by Maria and Oria, and not only by Nimble and Toby, but a whole troop of other creatures. John laughed. "There comes our little sister," he said, "with her happy family. She and her young companions have not been idle. It is wonderful how they have contrived to tame all those creatures."
In another minute Ellen and I were in each other's arms. She looked very well, and glad to see me, but her eye roved about in quest of Arthur. She was satisfied, however, when I told her that he had remained behind to attend to the recluse.
"I am not surprised at it," she said; "for I could not help fancying that there was some relationship between the two. Our strange friend was evidently more interested in Arthur than in any of us. In spite of his cold and repelling manner, Arthur, too, took greatly to him. However, perhaps I am wrong."
"Yes; I suspect, Ellen, it is but one of your fancies. You would like it to be the case; it would be so interesting and romantic, and so you cannot help thinking that it must be so," observed John.
Ellen was eager at once to introduce me to her pets. Nimble and Toby knew me immediately, and climbed up my back without hesitation.
"Here," said Ellen, "is a dear little bird." It was a small heron of a very graceful shape. The plumage was variegated with bars and spots of several colours, as are the wings of certain moths. She called it, and it immediately came up to her with a peculiarly dainty, careful gait. An insect was crawling along the ground. It immediately afterwards pierced it with its slender beak, and gobbled it up. It was the _ardea helias_. John said he had seen the birds perched on the lower branches of trees in shady spots: their note is a soft, long-drawn whistle; they build their nests in trees, of clay, very beautifully constructed.
"Now I must introduce my _curassow_ turkey," she said, calling another very handsome bird, almost as large as an ordinary turkey. It was of a dark-violet colour, with a purplish-green gloss on the back and breast. The lower part was of the purest white, while the crest was of a bright golden-yellow, greatly increasing the beauty of the bird. John called it the crested curassow--the _crax alector_.
"See," she said, "I have greatly increased the number of my feathered friends. Look at this beautiful marianna."
It was a small parrot, with a black head, a white breast, and orange neck and thighs--a most lovely little creature. As soon as she called it, it came down from its perch and sprang upon her wrist. When she again let it go, off it went, poking its head into the various articles on the verandah, examining a basket of fruits which Oria had just brought in, and the pots of which Domingos had charge; now pecking at one thing, now another. Our Indian friend had brought her another parrot called an _anaca_. This was also a beautiful bird, its breast and belly banded with blue and red, while the back of the neck and head were covered with long bright-red feathers margined with blue. True approaching it, up went the crest, looking remarkably handsome. From this crest it obtains the name of the hawk-head parrot. It came when called, but quickly retired in rather a solemn fashion to its perch.
"Do you know," said Ellen, "Oria has brought me that beautiful little duck you described. I would rather take that home with me than all the other pets, and yet I should be sorry to lose any of them."
"I tell Ellen that her menagerie is a mere bait to jaguars or boas, or other prowling animals of the forest," observed John. "What a nice breakfast one of them would make if it found its way into our settlement!"
"You shall not frighten me with any such ideas," she answered; "and I hope before we leave the country that I may add many more to my collection. But I have not shown you my humming-bird yet," she said. "I keep it in a cage in the house for fear the others should get at it; but it takes a flight by itself every day, and comes back again when it wants a sip of sirrup, or wishes to go to roost. I must show you some nests of the beautiful little birds which have built not far off. Would you like to go and see them at once?"
Knowing it would please her, while Domingos and Maria were preparing our evening meal, I accompanied her to a little distance, where, hanging to some long, pendant leaves, she pointed out two little purse-shaped nests, composed, apparently, of some cottony material bound together with spider-web. A graceful little bird was sitting in each of them, with tails having long, pointed feathers. The upper part of their bodies were of a green bronze, except the tail-coverts, which were of a somewhat rusty red; while the tails themselves were of a bronzed tint, broadly tipped with white. I knew them by the shape of their bills and their nests to belong to the genus _Phaethornis_.
"They are quite accustomed to me now," she said, "and will not fly away even when I go near them."
While we were looking, the mate of one of the birds came up and perched close above the nest. As we were going away I saw two others pass by us, of the same size, it seemed to me. Another settled on a flower near at hand, when the idea seized me that I could catch it. I struck it with my hat, and down it fell. Ellen uttered a cry of sorrow; but stooping down, what was my surprise to find, instead of a humming-bird, a moth so exactly in shape and appearance like the humming-birds, that it was no wonder I had been deceived.
"You would not have killed a humming-bird so easily," said Ellen; "but I am sorry for the poor moth."
The moth, however, though stunned, was not killed. On taking it to the hut I compared it with her tame pet, and was struck by the remarkable similarity in the shape of the head and position of the eye. The extended proboscis represented the long beak of the bird, while at the end of the moth's body was a brush of long hairs, which, as it flew along, being expanded, looked very much like the feathers of the bird's tail. Oria, when she saw the moth, told Ellen that it would some day turn into a bird; and Ellen, I believe, did not succeed in persuading her that such would certainly never happen. The resemblance, of course, is merely superficial, their internal construction being totally different. I have not as yet described nearly all Ellen's new pets; but just then, as I was very hungry, I had something else to think of.