Part 10

When they had pulled themselves together and looked over the little fleet it was found that Loper's boat had been unfitted for further service by the collision with the rock, and the greater part of his supplies lost. After a consultation it was decided that the others should leave their unfortunate partner at a little settlement just below the cataract and proceed. Russell and Monett, pushing ahead, put in many days prospecting along the shores of Glen Canyon. They waited for Loper at Lee's Ferry, a Mormon settlement, more than twice as long as the time agreed upon. Then, as there were no signs of him, they determined to go on without him. Friday, the 13th of the month, had no terrors for the intrepid pair, and they started off down the river on the morning of that day, with the Marble Canyon acting as an introduction to the Grand Canyon below. In dwelling on this stage of their journey Russell seemed to lose sight entirely of the remarkable nerve both men showed in going through what is admittedly the wildest part of the river without the third companion who, at the outset, had seemed absolutely indispensable to the successful accomplishment of the trip. In seven days they had passed the length of the roaring stream through the perpendicular walls of Marble Canyon, towering up on either side to an average height of three thousand feet, and had come safely through the worst rapids up to that point. At one place there were fifty-seven rapids to be negotiated in quick succession, some of them having falls from sixteen to twenty feet deep.

Entering the Grand Canyon, for the first fifteen miles below the entrance of the Little Colorado they found the water comparatively quiet. From this point onwards they found, however, their way was threatened by the worst falls they had thus far met. But the good luck which had attended them from the start still prevailed, and they managed to force their way without damage to either boat down over the almost continuous cataracts. Christmas found them only fifteen miles above Bright Angel trail. In describing the manner in which they celebrated the great day, Russell remarked, casually, that they certainly hung up their stockings--to dry. From beginning to end of their journey the adventurers had been obliged to depend for fuel entirely on such driftwood as they could find lodged in eddies and on the rocky shores. They spent more than one night in clothes soaked through with the icy water of the Colorado, with no fire to warm them. Their Christmas camp, however, was on a narrow strip of sand, with a greater supply of driftwood at hand than they had found at any point along the river. Immediately below this camping place, and continuing for the succeeding ten miles, the river dashes through a troubled stretch, the most perilous section of which is known as the "Sockdologer Rapid." To make matters worse, Russell found it impossible to follow his usual custom of "picking a trail" through these rapids. When possible the elder man climbed along the precipitous sides of the canyon beside each cataract, leaving Monett above the rough water in charge of the two boats. In this manner Russell could observe the most dangerous places through the rapids, and chart a course accordingly. But in this ten-mile stretch the granite walls rise sheer and smooth for the first fifteen hundred feet, and Russell could find no foothold, so that the men faced the necessity of "shooting" unknown waters.

Russell led the way in his boat, swinging it into the boiling current stern first--his own method of taking each cataract--making the frail craft respond to his will when possible by a forward pull on one or the other of his oars. After the first minute the cockpit in which each man sat, shut off from the rest of the boat by water-tight compartments, was filled to the gunwales with icy water, in which the oarsmen were compelled to remain. The boats dashed through one wave only to plunge into another. With less than a quarter of a mile still to be covered before the less vicious water below was reached, Russell heard his companion cry out in terror from behind, but before he could turn to ascertain the cause he was driven into smooth water. Mooring his boat at the foot of the rapids as quickly as possible, Russell half climbed, half waded, along the shore of the river and made his way back.

Here was disaster indeed! Monett's boat had been thrown by a heavy wave into a cleft between two jagged rocks. The craft was wedged in so tightly that he could have done little to release her if she had been "high and dry," but as it was he was literally a prisoner in the rushing waters, and how to rescue him was the question to be answered--and answered quickly. How Russell performed this brave feat is best told in his own words: "Monett, with his boat wedged tightly between two rocks, whose tops were about a foot below the sweeping water, was hanging desperately to the gunwales of the little craft--his body straightened out horizontally by the rush of the current. The boat was completely wrecked, but when I threw the rope to him I was astounded to see the boy carefully work his way closer to the craft and begin to tie its contents securely to the one means of saving his own life.

"So loud was the roar of the rapids that it was useless for me to yell to him to let the provisions go and save himself. Four times he made me haul sides of bacon and sacks of beans through the thirty feet of rushing water between him and the shore, before he finally caught the rope himself and let me drag him to safety. He had been in the water more than twenty minutes, and was nearly exhausted when I helped him to his feet."

The loss of the boat seemed at first to mark the end of their attempt to equal the record of their predecessors, but Monett insisted that they should try the plan of carrying him astride on the stern of the surviving boat. "If we strike too rough water, I can always swing overboard," he urged, "and we've needed a drag that wouldn't get fouled in the rocks all along."

So the adventurers continued, Monett managing to keep a grip on the covered deck while Russell navigated the frail craft through the foaming torrent, stern first. It was a case of "get out or die," as they put it afterwards, for they could not possibly scale the black walls that rose on either side for thousands of feet as sheer as a stone falls through the air. They might abandon the boat and work their way up to some rocky shelf, but they stood an excellent chance of starving if they found farther progress impossible. Thus began one of the most remarkable exploits in the history of adventure. For several days they dodged in and out of the rapids, but finally reached the little stretch of smooth water where the river flows past Bright Angel trail. At noon one day, about two weeks after the second shipwreck, a party of tourists were eating their luncheon by the river-side; they saw two men in one little row-boat swing out of the rapids two hundred yards up stream and row leisurely toward them. In the thirty years that tourists have visited the bottom of the canyon at this point, it is safe to assert that not one ever saw a sight like this. Two horses were placed at the disposal of the explorers, whose clothes were torn and soaking wet, while their faces were covered with many weeks' growth of beard.

They had planned to climb out of the canyon at Bright Angel to send and receive letters, but they had no intention of remaining here. With all their provisions now confined to the limited quarters of one boat, and with other incentives to make them push on with all speed possible, it was with difficulty that they were persuaded to remain at the hotel three days. During their stay here they were fêted and made the heroes of the hour by the guests. Through it all they displayed an equanimity and unfailing good nature which surprised those who expected to find these ragged adventurers rather taciturn than talkative. Three days later the entire community accompanied the two men to the river edge and bade them an enthusiastic farewell as they pushed off into midstream and headed down river once more.

Below Bright Angel they had more thrilling experiences, for one of the ugliest canyons had to be "rushed," as Russell puts it. Here they went through no fewer than fifteen different rapids in a distance of twenty-five miles. Several times Monett was torn from the boat by monster waves, but being an expert swimmer and very strong he managed to keep himself from being drowned or dashed upon the rocks, although his escapes were miraculous. At length they emerged from the last gorge at the little town of Needles, California, where their appearance excited the utmost astonishment. They had started on the journey with clean-shaven faces, but their hair and beards had grown until Russell and Monett looked twenty years older. Their clothing was stained by exposure to the weather and torn by the rough usage they had experienced, and they appeared far more like tramps than the heroes they had proved themselves to be. Well they had earned the right to hoist the "flag of victory" on their little craft, even though it was only the remains of a cotton undershirt tied to a pole. During the last part of the voyage the gunwale of the boat was swung against a ledge with such force that the steel deck was torn from its fastenings, and, to lighten the craft and keep her from sinking, they had to pull off the useless sheets and throw them overboard.

During this unique voyage they floated down no less than seven hundred and fifty miles of the Colorado, traversing over twenty gorges whose walls ranged from three thousand to seven thousand feet--over a mile--in height. While the Grand Canyon and its divisions was the longest of the gorges, extending for three hundred miles, they also ran the Marble Canyon--a gorge seventy-five miles long. The last abyss from which they emerged was Black Canyon. At this point they came to the first settlement of human beings they had found on the banks of the Colorado since leaving Lee's Ferry over three months before, for the Bright Angel trail is several miles away from any dwelling.

The men say that they were able to accomplish their exploit only by doing the exact opposite from what a boatman usually does. They let their boats go stern first down stream instead of bow first, and pulled their oars against the current. In other words, they kept rowing away from their destination, and up instead of down river. They followed this plan because, as Russell said, it enabled them to see where they were going. The current and rapids propelled the boats so swiftly that they merely used the oars for steering. Thus they avoided rocks and points on shore upon which the craft would otherwise have struck and been battered to pieces.

A Romance of Two Islands.

+By Frederic Lees+.

That romance, such as the writer of fiction is alone thought capable of producing, often lies hidden in family records is strikingly borne out by the following story of adventure. The author recently came into possession of a bundle of letters written from the West Coast of Africa in 1844 and 1845 by his paternal great-grandfather, and from these, combined with details handed down from father to son, he has put together this interesting narrative. Fierce fighting and foul play on sea and land is the subject; the scene, the Islands of Ichaboe and St. Helena; the time, the early years of the reign of Queen Victoria, when, as the reader will see from the dangers run by the hero of the story, the early pioneers of British commerce were brought face to face with difficulties and perils which are now almost unknown.

II.

In spite of what had happened, Captain Jasper Ivory, much to everybody's astonishment, remained in the roadstead. With a twelve months' interdiction against his name, all chance of getting a pit or stage before the guano was exhausted was gone. Yet the _Gurango_ and the _Florentia_ stopped where they were, their owner professing himself to be occupied with the purchase of cargoes in view of a rise in prices. Few people, however, were deceived, for at the same time that he carried on these very speculative transactions he was making himself conspicuous by his overtures of friendship to certain members of the committee, who after a few weeks' cajoling he so far won over as to persuade them to propose a remission of part of his sentence. But Joseph Lees and other magistrates would not hear of this, since it would have been, as the chairman said when the matter was discussed, "a fatal proof of weakness on their part, above all in the case of such a man as Ivory, who would simply take advantage of it to obtain further concessions and favours, to which--as a man who had nearly been caught in the act of crime--he was certainly not entitled." It was rumoured that Captain Jasper was extremely angry on hearing the committee's decision, but he nevertheless continued his habitual policy of outward friendliness to all men.

Early in September, shortly after the above-mentioned meeting, Joseph Lees fell ill. The symptoms of his malady were peculiar, and as they baffled the skill of no fewer than three doctors, it will be as well to enumerate them. Taking up a book one evening, just before retiring to rest, he was amazed to discover that he had suddenly become short-sighted. As his eyesight had hitherto been perfect, he attributed the phenomenon to fatigue and the glaring sun to which he had been exposed all day, and decided to forego his reading and to at once retire for the night. On awaking next morning he was relieved to find that his sight was again normal. Shortly after noon, however, the focus of his eyes again changed; then, as before, there was a return to the normal state. These intervals of shortsightedness recurred with distressing regularity for a week or ten days, at the end of which time Lees called in the doctor who had accompanied him from England. General physical debility, occasioned by living under bad conditions, was pronounced to be the root of the ill, which would quickly disappear if combated with a bottle of port, a generous allowance of nourishing victuals, and a few days' rest in purer air. Remaining on board the _Elora_ instead of going on to the island to superintend the loading of the boats, the patient tried this treatment for a week. Far from improving, however, he rapidly became worse, much to the alarm of the doctor--a young and nervous man, as he proved himself to be by losing his head and proposing a consultation with a brother practitioner. Putting their wise heads together, the two doctors found that the supercargo's stomach was at fault, so they prescribed croton oil and a low diet. Other peculiar features of his ailment now began to make their appearance. He experienced a difficulty in breathing; at times his eyes brimmed over with tears, though he felt none of the feelings that usually accompany them. Weakness, too, set in, and after six weeks of lying on his back, he was afflicted with twitchings of the facial muscles. By this time a third doctor was in attendance. But he confessed to his colleagues that he had never seen such a peculiar case before, and argued that Lees must be suffering from some blood disease, combined with a nervous ailment, both of which, he suggested, might be endemic in that part of the world.

"Let us try mercury," he said. "I have known it effect wonderful cures. And to show that I do not disregard your remedy, which has also many virtues, we will give him occasional doses of croton oil as well."

The ignorance of these three doctors brought Lees to death's door. By the beginning of September he was reduced to such a state of weakness that he had to have assistance if he wished to leave his cabin, where he lay for hours at a time in a semi-paralyzed state. His brain, he noticed, continued its functions, but his body began to lose its sensibility to pain. At last he made up his mind to have done with his medical attendants and their physics and try a régime of his own.

"I have the most heartrending tidings to communicate," he wrote on December 5th to his son. "I am a dying man, and the chances are if I ever leave this place and reach England, though I implore God to spare me to see my family and arrange my affairs. But, notwithstanding, His will be done. I am resigned."

Feeling no longer able to direct the affairs of Ichaboe, and fearing that troubles would sooner or later once more break out, Lees communicated with the authorities at St. Helena. The result was the return of H.M.S. _Thunderbolt_, which brought not only a certainty that disturbers of the peace would be held in check--a great relief to the supercargo's mind--but also a first-rate ship's doctor, who was to play an important part in this history.

"We must see what Alexander Maxwell can do for you," said the captain of the man-of-war, when, half an hour after his arrival off the island, he called on the chairman of the committee. "He's one of the best doctors in the Royal Navy, without a doubt. If anyone can pull you through--and a man of your build and constitution, Lees, isn't going to be bowled over yet--he will. So as soon as I get back, I'll send him over to you."

A quarter of an hour later, Dr. Maxwell, a man of close on forty, with a broad, high forehead, was sitting by the sick man's side, feeling his pulse, questioning him as to his sensations, and learning the history of the case from its very beginning. His knitted brow and the intent manner in which he watched his patient's face showed that he was keenly interested, if not a little puzzled.

"There, now, Mr. Lees, that will do for the present, thank you," he said after a few minutes. "You mustn't fatigue yourself by too much talking. I'm going to leave you for half an hour or so. I'll bring you a bottle of something to relieve that shortsightedness--something a little pleasanter than mercury and croton oil."

And as he closed the cabin door behind him, Captain Graham, who was present at the consultation, heard him murmur: "Mercury and croton oil indeed! The dunderheads, not to think of belladonna!"

Dr. Maxwell, unlike the three incompetent medical men who had already treated the supercargo, had kept pace with scientific research, and was acquainted with the action not only of deadly-nightshade but of other less-known poisons, to one of which he knew his remedy was a counteractive. As a matter of fact, he was strongly suspicious that his patient's complaint was not due to natural causes, though as yet he could not understand how it could have its origin in artificial ones.

A few hours later Dr. Maxwell, once more by Lees' side, was in possession of one of those facts which tell so much to the scientific mind. The physiological action of belladonna, following on another agent whose effects were opposite in character, had revealed the secret.

"Exactly as I thought!" he exclaimed, when he had finished his examination of the patient. "You'll be as right as a trivet in three months or so from now. Good food and fresh air are what you want. Your case, my good sir, is one in which I can approve of Macbeth's advice to 'throw physic to the dogs.' By the by, captain," turning towards Graham, "would you kindly close the door, so that there'll be no fear of our being overheard? I should like to have a little conversation with Mr. Lees and yourself."

Wondering as to what was coming, Captain Graham did as he was asked, and drew a chair up to the side of the bunk.

"Now, Mr. Lees," began the doctor, "at the risk of fatiguing you I want all your attention for a few minutes whilst I put several very important questions to you. This is a most serious matter, and the sooner we act the better. Would you tell me, please, if you have any enemies either on board this ship or in the roadstead of Ichaboe?"

"Not a few, I imagine, in the roadstead, but on the _Elora_ I should say certainly not," replied the supercargo, in a low voice. "My position as chairman of the committee has naturally not contributed to popularity amongst the savages of these parts, and I could name at least five or six of the guano thieves who wish I'd never come to Ichaboe, and who certainly wouldn't be sorry to see the last of me."

"Particularly Captain Ivory, eh? From what I've been told he's the sort of man who would stick at nothing. But what I should like to know is this: What motive could he have for poisoning you, and, presuming that he's the instigator of this crime, who is his accomplice?"

"_Poisoning_ me, doctor?" said the sick man in astonishment, raising himself on his elbow and gazing at Maxwell with something of the old fire in his eyes. "Do you really suspect that my illness is due to a criminal hand?"

"I don't merely suspect it, my dear sir--I _know_ it. I suspected it when I first saw you, but I'm certain now. You've been systematically poisoned for several months past, and not solely by mercury and croton oil, but by Calabar bean as well. We may, a little later, if we can get hold of some of the poison, be able to prove our statement by analysis. Meanwhile, we know we've got hold of the truth, and what we've got to do is to find out the person or persons who have had a hand in this affair."

"Then you may make up your mind, doctor, that it's Jasper who's done it," affirmed Captain Graham, emphatically. "Poison's exactly the sort o' weapon he'd use, the double-faced, smooth-tongued villain that he is."

"I grant you, captain, that he's all that, and much more besides, perhaps. But before we fix this crime upon him we've to discover first what motive he could have in committing it; and, secondly, what means he adopted."

"Not much difficulty in assignin' a motive when we recall the ambuscade and its subsequent effects," returned Graham. "Twelve months' interdict against his name; checkmated aboard his own ship, if you please, and unable, ever since that day, to get the least sympathy from our gallant chairman here, though Jasper's friends tried their hardest in committee. But you'll have to hear the whole story, doctor, 'fore you can understand right, so by your leave and Mr. Lees' I'll spin you the yarn from the beginnin'."

Captain Graham gave a rapid account of the events of the past four months, and concluded with the remark:--

"Seems to me the business fairly bristles with motives. What beats me, though, is the question of his accomplice, seein' as there ain't more than five or six of us who have entered this cabin regular-like; and I've never thought o' lookin' to find a traitor among the crew o' the _Elora_. I could have taken my davy there wasn't a dishonest man aboard."

"I shall be inclined to say that Ivory is guilty, if only we can find the link between him and this ship," said Maxwell at last. "You have had your meals, I understand, almost invariably alone, Mr. Lees. By whom were they prepared and served?"

"By Daniel White, the steward."

"A man--I take it from Captain Graham--who has nothing against his character?"