As we knew that Marian would like to see it alive, Uncle Paul went to call her. The creature, with its huge dewlap, ugly face, long claws, and row of spines on its back, looked indeed truly formidable. Marian, who with Arthur and our father soon came, recollecting all about the alligator, cried out under the idea that it might break loose and attack us. Just at that moment the after-rope, which Tim was holding loosely, slipped off the tail of the creature; when finding that member at liberty, it began to lash about with it on every side. Tim thoughtlessly rushed forward to seize it; but it gave him a cut on the leg, which brought him to the ground howling with pain; and had not Uncle Paul hauled him out of the creature's way, he might have received a still more serious blow. As it showed an inclination to inflict further damage, Sambo coming up speedily despatched it by a blow on the head. Ugly as it looked, he assured us that it would afford us most delicious food; and at dinnertime we found his prediction amply fulfilled. We had become so accustomed to eat odd-looking creatures, that however repulsive the appearance of an animal, we never hesitated to try it; and we agreed that we should have no objection to eat another iguana as soon as one could be caught.

Kallolo was our chief hunter; and Arthur and I, when we could spare time from our regular work, were glad, for the sake of variety, to go out with him. We were walking along the shore of the lake, when from the top of a low tree a huge bird, its plumage chiefly black, with a crest of curled feathers on its head and a white breast, flew off over the water.

"We have lost the bird, but we will try to find something instead," said Kallolo, giving me his blowpipe and bow to hold. He then climbed up the tree till he reached the bird's nest, from which he extracted two eggs, and brought them down safety. They were considerably larger than a duck's egg, white and granulated all over, though the bird itself did not appear to be above the size of an ordinary duck. It was, I found, a crested curassow. The eggs being newly laid were very palatable. Kallolo then ascended the tree again and laid a snare, hoping to catch the hen-bird; which, he said, might become domesticated, if carefully treated.

As we were going through the forest shortly afterwards I heard a rustling sound among the underwood, and saw, close ahead of me, a dark-skinned creature about the size of a calf rush on towards the water. Its head, of which I caught a glimpse, was peculiarly long, with a proboscis-like snout. I guessed from this that the animal was a tapir. Calling to Kallolo, I told him what I had seen. He came up, and examining the ground, gave it as his opinion that the creature frequently passed that way, and that he had little doubt we should be able to catch it.

On returning to the settlement he invited Tim and Sambo to accompany him, and to dig a pit in which to catch the animal. We had a short time before manufactured some wooden spades, which served very well for digging in soft ground: we each took one, and Kallolo having fixed on a spot over which he considered the tapir was accustomed to pass, we set to work to dig the pit. The tapir being unable to climb, we made our pit only about four feet deep, seven long, and four wide. Having shovelled away the earth as far as we could throw it, we covered the pit over with thin branches and light twigs, which would at once give way under the animal's weight.

Next morning, as the rest of the party were busily employed, I alone accompanied Kallolo. We each carried a spade, with some rope and pieces of matting.

We first visited the tree on which he had set the snare for the curassow. As we approached we observed a fluttering on the top of it, and there, sure enough, was the bird caught by the legs. Kallolo climbed up, and detaching the snare from the tree brought the bird safely to the ground. It was too much frightened to attempt resistance, and before it recovered, the Indian had covered its head up with a piece of matting, so that it could not see; and then taking it under his arm, we set off to examine our pit. Even before we got up to it, we saw that the covering had given way; and sure enough, there was the tapir safe within. The creature could not turn round, and was standing perfectly still, utterly unable to help itself. Kallolo had brought a bag, the mouth secured by a string; this he managed to slip over its head, so that it, like the curassow, was completely blindfolded. He then passed another rope round its forelegs, and passing the end round the trunk of a tree, hauled it tight. Putting the curassow on the ground, with its legs tied, Kallolo begged me to assist him in throwing a quantity of earth over the front of the pit. In a short time we had made an incline, up which the tapir of its own accord climbed; expecting, probably, when at the top to find itself free. In this it was disappointed; but its strength being considerable, it would speedily have broken loose had not its eyes been blindfolded. Kallolo now approaching, spoke to it in soothing terms, patted it on the back, and at length it stood perfectly still, its alarm having apparently been completely calmed.

"We will now return home with our prizes, and I hope that in a short time they will become tame," he observed; and having transferred the rope from its legs to its neck, he led it along, while I followed with the curassow. On our arrival with our two prizes we were warmly greeted by all hands, and Marian begged that she might be allowed to tame the bird.

"I should like to make friends with the tapir," she added; "but I am afraid that it would prove an unruly pupil."

"You need not be afraid of that," said Kallolo. "In a short time the tapir will become as tame as a dog, and will follow you about wherever you go."

Kallolo certainly exhibited a wonderful skill in taming animals. He managed to do so entirely by kindness, though in the first instance he starved them to make them ready to receive food from his hands. He did not, however, allow the tapir to go loose for some days, but regularly brought it the food he knew it liked best. He then took it down to the water to bathe, keeping the rope tight that it might not swim off.

Marian imitated his example with regard to her curassow; and the bird soon knew her, and showed its pleasure when she approached with its favourite fruit. At length, feeling pretty sure that it would not fly away, she let it loose just before its usual feeding time, and then held out some fruit which she had got in readiness. The bird flew towards her; and from that day followed her about wherever she went. "Crass," (the name we gave to the curassow), soon became a great favourite, and made Quacko and Ara very jealous. The monkey would, now and then, steal down and slyly try to pluck the feathers out of Crass, which would immediately run for protection to Marian; while Ara would fly down and perch on its head, and peck at its crest.

We had now a little menagerie. Three parrots, of different species, and another monkey, had been added to our collection. The tapir became perfectly domesticated, and could be trusted to go out and have a bathe by itself, when it would invariably come back and lie down in front of our hut, knowing that it was there safe from its arch enemy the jaguar. We, however, could not bestow much time on our animals, as we were employed in the more important business of building our vessel and supplying our larder. We were never, indeed, in want of food, but we had to consider the means of preserving a supply for our voyage. The days passed quickly by; and though the carpenters appeared to work very slowly, each day saw the vessel further advanced, and it was a satisfaction to count the numerous ribs which now rose from the keel of our vessel.

We were all at work one day on the vessel, with the exception of Tim and Sambo, who had gone out to fish on the lake at a short distance from the shore, when cunning Master Quacko, observing us engaged, and catching sight of Crass feeding at a little distance from the huts, slyly stole towards her. Crass turned her head just in time to see him coming, and recollecting that she had wings as well as legs, rose in the air and flew towards a neighbouring tree. Quacko, who had not forgotten the art of climbing, made chase, and soon got up to the bough on which Crass was perched. Crass, who had been watching him, flew off to another tree close to the shore of the lake. Quacko, however, liking the fun, threw himself from bough to bough and drove Crass further and further off. Marian, who had been busy at her loom, looking up caught sight of Quacko and Crass flying away in the far distance. Guessing the cause of her favourite's flight, she ran to call Quacko back, and to try to recover her bird. As she was making her way through the thick underwood, I fortunately happened to see her, and calling to Arthur, we both ran to her assistance. So thick was the forest, however, at this spot, that we soon lost sight of her; and though we shouted to her to return, she made no reply. Recollecting the fearful danger to which she had before been exposed on the bank of the stream, I could not help fearing that some accident had happened to her.

We went on till we saw Crass on the bough of a tree just ahead of us, and I was sure that Marian could not be far off. Just then it occurred to me that she was perhaps only trying to frighten us; so, instead of following her further, I resolved to climb the tree and secure the bird. Calling to Arthur, we both easily mounted by means of several sepos which hung down from it, and of three or four boughs which projected from the lower part of the trunk. No sooner had Arthur and I got up than we caught sight of Marian clinging to a palm-tree, horror depicted in her countenance as she gazed at something on the ground. At the same moment Crass flew off towards her; while Arthur, exclaiming, "A snake! a snake! it is about to attack her," leaped down to her assistance. It was a moment of fearful suspense. I expected to see the horrible reptile spring at my sister. It appeared to me, as I caught sight of its head, to be one of the most venomous species—the labarri.

Just then I heard a voice shout out, "Stay quiet, Miss Marian, and keep your eye fixed on the creature."

I did not till then observe that the raft had come close in, and I now saw Sambo, who had leaped from it, making rapidly towards the shore with a long stick in his hand. The snake, whose tail had been coiled round the root of a tree, had all the time remained perfectly still, though uttering ominous hisses. In another instant the reptile would have made its fatal spring; but Sambo, climbing up the bank, dealt it a furious blow on the head. This made it uncoil its tail; then he followed up the attack by a second blow. The snake dropped its head.

Marian, relieved of her terror, fell fainting to the ground just as Arthur and I reached her, while Crass immediately came flying down to her feet. Having satisfied ourselves that the snake was really killed, we hastened back with Marian to the settlement, followed by Crass, which came willingly after its mistress. She was so nervous, however, that she could with difficulty walk. At every instant she started, as if expecting to see another snake appear before her to dispute her passage. Quacko, who knew very well that he had been misbehaving, made his way back before us; and when we arrived we found him seated in front of the hut, looking as sedate as a judge, evidently fancying that his conduct had been unobserved.

We again charged Marian not to leave the camp by herself, warning her that she might not only meet with another snake, but might fall in, perhaps, with a prowling jaguar or puma, or an anaconda, such as had attacked us on the lake.

"But I could not bear the thought of losing my dear Crass; and I had no idea that I should have been led so far away," she answered, almost crying, as if she had done something wrong.

"We are not blaming you, my dear Marian," said Uncle Paul, "but cautioning you for your own benefit,—and ours, too, for we should be miserable should any harm happen to you. People, when they begin to act imprudently, never can tell where they may stop; and a very good lesson may be imparted to others from your adventure and the fearful danger to which you have been exposed. But do not suppose, my dear, that we blame you, though you did give us all a great fright. We must appoint a guard, not to watch you, but to protect you from danger."

"Oh, do not draw anyone off from the important work in which you are all engaged, for my sake," exclaimed Marian. "I will be very prudent in future, indeed, I will; and if any of my favourites run away, I will immediately come to you, that, if you think fit, somebody may be sent to bring them back."

Marian's resolution was sorely tried a few days afterwards. The Ara parrot, the companion of our troubles, which had learned to speak, as Tim averred, as well as a real Christian, and was so very affectionate and domesticated, took it into its head, from some unknown cause, to fly off before Marian's eyes. According to her promise, she did not follow it, though she believed that it had perched on a tree not far off, but hurried to where we were at work. When, however, Maco went to look for it, the bird was nowhere to be seen. The whole day passed by, and Marian began to give up all hopes of ever recovering her pet. The next morning our attention was attracted by the most extraordinary noises, arising from a flock of parrots at a little distance. Now all was hushed; then again there broke forth a torrent of screams, which reminded us of the noise made by a flock of crows gathered around a solitary owl found out of its ivy-mantled tower after sunrise. What was the cause of the noise? No one could decide. Arthur suggested that the tree-tops thereabout might form a parliament-house to the surrounding nation of parrots, and that, their session having commenced, they had met to discuss some new legislative act for the good of the community, or, perhaps, some point calculated to lead to a general war,—the overbearing conduct of the macaws, or the increasing insults of the parakeets.

With bows and blowpipes in hand, Arthur, Tim, and I, and the three Indians, crept silently towards them, when, to our great astonishment, we discovered the cause of the hubbub. Mounted full in view on a treetop stood Master Ara; while around him, upon adjacent branches, were collected a host of his peers! There was a pause.

"Haul away! ye ho, boys!" came down from the top of the tree, followed by bursts of imitative shrieks and vociferous applause. "Ha! ha! ha!" shouted Master Ara, as he rolled his head and doubled up his body quite beside himself with laughter. Then came tumultuous applause and encores, and further shouts of "Ha! ha! ha! Haul away! ye ho, boys!" Then Ara spread his wings, and began with evident delight to bow and dance, and to turn round and round on the bough he had chosen for his rostrum. The effect upon his auditory was remarkable. Every parrot began to twist and to turn about in the same fashion, endeavouring with very considerable success to utter the same sounds, till we might have supposed that the crew of a merchant ship were shouting together, and engaged in weighing anchor to put to sea. Presently one of the assembly caught sight of us, and giving the alarm to the others, they suddenly changed their hilarious notes to cries of alarm, when off they flew, leaving Ara to harangue to empty benches, or rather to vacant boughs; for he, not holding us in dread, did not deem it necessary to decamp.

The question now was how to catch him. Kallolo's blowpipe could have brought him down from his lofty perch; but it would have been at the risk of preparing him for parrot-pie, and our object was to take him alive. Had we possessed any salt, Kallolo said that there would have been no danger, as a few grains would have effectually neutralised the effects of the poison.

"Sure he would come if the mistress were to call him," observed Tim.

Arthur, thinking so too, ran back and brought Marian; who, indeed, was very willing to come. On our retiring out of sight, she began to call to Ara, using the endearing expressions she had been accustomed to apply to him. He looked down and nodded, and then flew to a lower bough. She went on, and held out her hand with some palm-fruit, of which he was especially fond. Again he descended; and at length, attracted partly by her sweet voice, and partly, it may be suspected, by the sweet fruit, came and perched on her hand. Then she took him back in triumph to the settlement, telling him, as she did so, how imprudent he had been to run away so far.

"Remember, Ara," I heard her say, with all the gravity possible, "people, when they begin to act imprudently, never can tell where they may stop. You might have been caught by a tree-snake, or by some savage vulture, and we should never have seen you more. Promise me never to go wandering again without a proper escort;—you will, won't you?"

"Haul away! ye ho, boys!" answered Ara. "Ha! ha! ha!"

This was the only reply she could obtain. She, however, as the bird nestled affectionately in her arms, seemed perfectly satisfied that he would not again go gadding.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

NAMING OUR VESSEL—SAMBO'S SUGAR MANUFACTORY—THE WONDERFUL COW-TREE— TIM'S "BEAUTIFUL PIG?"—TREED BY PECCARIES—A JAGUAR RENDERS US A VALUABLE SERVICE—PEACH-PALMS—KALLOLO CAPTURES THE CURIOUS JACANA—A LUCKY FIND—IN SEARCH OF TURTLES—GOOD LUCK—LAUNCH OF THE "GOOD HOPE"—"FLY! FLY! THE SAVAGES ARE COMING!"—A NARROW ESCAPE—OUR VILLAGE SET ON FIRE.

We had a grand discussion one evening as to the name to be bestowed on our new vessel. Various appellations were suggested. Arthur proposed that she should be called the "Marian;" Tim, who had a voice in the matter, suggested the "Erin."

"The 'Fair Maiden' would be a fitting name," said the mate Peter, bowing with the gallantry of a sailor to my young sister.

"Oh no! pray don't name the vessel after me," exclaimed Marian; "for though I am obliged to Mr Peter, yet I am sure I am no longer a 'fair maiden.'"

It had never occurred to me to think about the matter; but now, as I looked at her sweet countenance, I saw that it was tanned almost to a nut-brown hue, and covered over with still darker freckles—the result of constant exposure to the air and hot sun.

"Now, with all due respect for Miss Marian, I consider that we may find a better name than any hitherto suggested," observed the skipper. "I propose that our vessel be called the Good Hope. Although not yet finished, we have 'good hope' that she will be; and we have also 'good hope' that, escaping the Spanish cruisers, and storms and rocks and shoals, she will carry us safely to Stabroek. What say you, Mr Paul?"

"The Good Hope—the Good Hope," said Uncle Paul, repeating the name several times. "I like it. Yes, yes; it is a fitting name—a good name. Our craft has been the result of faith in One who watches over us—of skill and energy and perseverance; and such must always afford 'good hope' of success. What do you say, brother Dennis?"

"I have felt too often that I have bidden farewell to 'hope' in any form to venture on selecting such a name; and yet, if you are pleased so to call our craft, I should be content to embark on board the Good Hope; and should she carry us to civilised lands in safety, I might believe once more that there is hope for me, even in this world," answered my father.

I had been inclined to agree with Arthur; but as the elders of the party seemed to consider that the name of Good Hope was the proper one, I voted for it, and Marian did likewise. Thus it was settled that our vessel was to be called the Good Hope; and so we ever afterwards designated her.

As she approached completion, the hunters were urged to be diligent in endeavouring to procure the means of provisioning her for the voyage. We at once built two kilns for drying fish and flesh, to assist the preserving powers of the hot sun. Several large periecus were caught, cut up, and dried in the sun, and then smoked; but though wholesome and nutritious, they were not considered very palatable. As fruits and nuts became ripe they were gathered in large quantities, and Marian exerted her skill in drying the former.

"If I had some sugar, I would make a supply of preserves," she observed, as she examined a basket of palm-fruit, and several varieties of plums, which we had brought in. "I often assisted at home, and know perfectly well how to manage."

I remembered one day having seen some long canes, which I took for ordinary reeds, growing among the abundant vegetation. I now tried to recollect whereabouts they were.

"I know," exclaimed Sambo. "They be wild sugar-cane."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Because I suck 'em, and dey berry sweet," he answered, grinning as only a well-satisfied negro can grin, having, of all the human race, a mouth specially adapted for the purpose.

"Then do you think you could find them again, Sambo?" I asked.

"Oh yes, massa! I will bring home enough to make sugar for all the preserves Miss Marian can make."

"But when we have cut the canes, how is the sugar to be manufactured?" I inquired.

"I do dat," he answered. "I 'long on sugar plantation in Jamaica, and know how to make sugar as well as any nigger slave."

Sambo at once set out, and soon brought back a load of sugar-canes—a convincing proof that they grew in the neighbourhood. We all tried them; and for several days each member of our community was to be seen walking about with a piece of sugar-cane in his mouth. Sambo was an ingenious mechanic, and forthwith set to work to construct a sugar manufactory. It was very simple, consisting of a number of our largest clay pots for boiling the juice, and a long trough with sides, and a board at each end, slightly inclining towards the pans. Into the trough fitted a huge stone,—a large round boulder, to which ropes were attached, for hauling it backwards and forwards. The canes being placed in the trough, the heavy weight passing over them pressed out the juice, which ran through holes in the lower end into the bowls. The fuel which had previously been placed under the bowls was then lighted. As soon as the juice became hot, the impure portions rose in the form of scum, which was skimmed off. Sambo had found some lime, with which he formed lime-water to temper the liquor. The boiling process over, the fires were allowed to go out, and the liquor was then poured out into fresh pans, in which it was again gently boiled. It was afterwards transferred to a number of open wooden boxes, where it was allowed to cool, while the molasses ran off into pans placed beneath them, the part remaining in the boxes being in the form of crystals. Another draining process was then gone through, when really very respectable-looking sugar was produced.

"It would not fetch anything of a price in the market," observed my father; "but I have no doubt that Marian will find it good enough to preserve her fruit."

Marian was delighted, and assured Sambo that his sugar would answer very well indeed. "If we could find some tea-plants, we might have a pleasanter beverage for breakfast than either cold water or palm-wine," observed Marian; "though, to be sure, we should have no milk to mix with it."

"I don't despair of finding that," said Uncle Paul; "indeed, I can promise to bring you some fresh milk directly you can produce the tea. I only yesterday caught sight of the massaranduba, or cow-tree; and as it is not far off, I will this evening bring you a bowlful of the juice, which, when fresh, you will be unable to distinguish from the finest milk."

Marian was of course very eager to see this wonderful vegetable milk; and in the evening Uncle Paul set out with a large bowl. Sambo and I accompanied him, Sambo carrying an axe. On going some distance through the forest, we saw a tree with deeply-scored reddish and rugged bark.

"Surely nothing like white juice can come out of so rough a skin," I observed to Uncle Paul.

"Wait till Sambo has put his axe through it.—Cut hereabouts, Sambo," he said, pointing to a part of the trunk under which he could hold the bowl.

The black did as directed, and made a deep incision, following it up by other cuts.

"That's enough," exclaimed Uncle Paul; and having, as he spoke, placed the bowl beneath the cut, there literally gushed forth a stream of the purest white milk, so rapidly that the bowl was quickly filled. I smelt it and tasted it; and though it might have been said to be a little coarse, I certainly should have supposed it to be pure milk. Uncle Paul cautioned us not to drink much, as, swallowed in any considerable quantity, it is looked upon as unwholesome.

We returned with the bowl full, Sambo having carried it on his head. Marian was of course delighted with it, though she could not give us tea. Kallolo had brought her a berry, however, which he assured her was perfectly wholesome, and which, when pounded and boiled, afforded a fair substitute for coffee. I suspect, indeed, that it was wild coffee, and that the original seed had been brought to the spot by some bird.

We had thus secured a very palatable beverage, and had obtained milk and sugar to mix with it; but my father still had a fancy for procuring tea, or at all events a substitute for it.

"If we find any, it will be a satisfaction when we drink it to remember that it is not taxed," he observed, "and that the revenue derived from it will not be spent in a way over which we have no control."

My poor father was alluding at the time to one of the grievances which the American colonies had already begun to feel very severely. We hunted in vain, however, for any shrub whose leaves were at all to be compared with those of the tea-tree of China, though we made several decoctions which afforded us refreshing beverages.

On the borders of the small lake Kallolo had discovered a large quantity of wild rice, on which numberless waterfowl fed. We collected an ample supply of the seed, and found it very useful in lieu of other farinaceous food. After it had been well stewed, it assisted to fricassee macaws, parrots, and monkeys, which formed our staple diet. We had long got over anything like squeamishness as to what we ate; and it was evident that our food agreed with us, for we were all as fat and strong as we could desire—indeed, accustomed as we had become to the life we were leading, no one complained of hardships or scanty fare. We certainly had to work for our subsistence, and the food did not exactly drop into our mouths; but we were sure to get it by exerting ourselves.

We caught two more tapirs in our pitfall; but being older than the first, they showed no inclination to become domesticated, so we were compelled to kill them, and to cut up and dry their flesh—which, though rather tough, was not otherwise unpalatable. Notwithstanding the quantity around him, Tim often sighed for a good fat pig.

"Sure, there's nothing like pork after all; and I wish we could have two or three fat grunters to keep happy and contented in the corner of our hut, just as they may be seen in many cabins in the 'ould country,'" he exclaimed one day. "They would remind us of home more than anything else."

I recollected Tim's remark when, shortly afterwards, he came rushing in from the direction of our pitfall, exclaiming as he approached,—"Hurrah! hurrah!—a real 'beautiful pig' has been caught; but the baste looked as if his mind was so ill at ease, that I thought it prudent not to slip down and help him out; so, if anyone will come and assist me, sure we'll soon make the beginning of a piggery."

Uncle Paul, Sambo, and I, carrying some rope between us, hastened off to get out the pig. On reaching the pitfall, Uncle Paul, looking down, exclaimed,—"It was well, Tim, that you did not jump in to help out your friend. Just see his mouth!" And poking the end of his stick in front of the creature's nose, it exhibited a pair of tusks sharp as lancets. "It is a pig, certainly, but very unlike the pig of northern lands," he observed. "This creature is a peccary; and though it is of no great size, it is one of the most savage little animals in existence. A herd of them will run down a jaguar; and though he may slay a few with his paws, they will soon worry him to death with their sharp tusks, having nothing like fear in their composition. We will take the precaution of securing it before we haul it out, or it will be sure to do some of us an injury."

A noose having been formed, it was slipped over the peccary's head, and the animal was hauled-out and quickly despatched. Uncle Paul then showed us a gland on the hinder part of the back, which he carefully cut out, remarking that unless this was done it would impart a disagreeable flavour to the rest of the meat. Tim and Sambo, after having secured it to the end of a long stick, carried it in triumph to the settlement. We found the meat excellent; and what we could not eat was smoked and laid by for the voyage.

Tim was still dissatisfied at not being able to tame a few peccaries to keep in his hut. He had sallied forth at daybreak one morning, bow in hand, in search of game, promising to be back at breakfast. When breakfast-time came, however, Tim did not appear. Arthur and I waited for an hour or more, till we became somewhat anxious about our faithful follower, and at last determined to go in search of him. We had noted the direction he had taken, and hoped, therefore, to get upon his track. We first visited the pitfall. It was empty; but we caught sight of some recently broken twigs some way beyond, which showed that he had gone further. On we went, therefore, shooting several birds which came in our way.

We were pushing on, when we heard a voice which we knew to be Tim's shouting out, "Up a tree! up a tree, gentlemen—for your lives!" We looked round. Fortunately one was near, the branches of which enabled us, without difficulty, to climb up it. At that instant we caught sight of several dozen black-skinned creatures rushing towards us. Up the tree we sprang; and scarcely had we got a few feet from the ground when a whole herd of peccaries came rushing towards us, ploughing up the ground with their tusks, and exhibiting other signs of rage.

No sooner had we seated ourselves on a bough than we made out Tim a little way off, perched in the same manner upon another tree. It was pretty clear that he had been besieged by the herd, as we now were.

We shouted to him, inquiring how long he had been there.

"For the last two hours or more," was his answer. "I was just walking through the forest on my way home when these terrible little bastes caught sight of me; and if I had not sprung up this tree like lightning, they would have dug their sharp tusks into my legs. Though I have shot every arrow I had at my back, and have killed half a score of them, nothing I could do would make them go away; and by my faith, too, the brutes seem determined to starve us out."

This was not pleasant, as we might expect to be treed in the same manner. We determined, however, to do what we could to put the peccaries to flight, and began shooting away; taking good aim, that we might not uselessly expend our arrows. The little brutes kept rushing about below us, now and then charging against the trunk of the tree, and then looking up at us with their wicked eyes, evidently wishing that we might slip and tumble down among them.

"A pretty condition we should be in if we did so," I remarked to Arthur.

"Take care what you are about, then," he answered. "Keep your feet firmly fixed on the branch below you before you shoot."

We were standing up on one branch, leaning against another some way above it,—a good situation for our purpose. We had killed nearly a dozen peccaries; still the animals seemed totally to disregard the falling of their companions, and rushed about as fiercely as at first. We at length began to fear that they would remain till we were starved, for we had already expended the greater number of our arrows. Arthur at last advised that we should stop shooting, in the hope that, from some cause or other, the peccaries would raise the siege and take their departure. "Even could we cut up the slaughtered animals, we could not carry home a quarter of them, and it is evidently useless to shoot more of them," he observed.

Arthur had turned round to speak to Tim, when I heard him whisper, "See, see! look at that creature!" Casting my eyes in the direction in which he pointed, I beheld a large jaguar stealing cautiously along towards one of the peccaries which lay wounded on the ground. We kept perfectly silent, as we hoped the jaguar would not only carry off the dying peccary, but a few of its living companions. The loud squeaks which the poor wounded peccary set up on finding itself in the claws of the savage jaguar, attracted the attention of the whole herd; but instead of running away, they rushed simultaneously towards him. He saw them coming, and lifting his victim in his jaws, he bounded off. They were not, however, to be disappointed of their revenge, and away they all started in chase. We watched them with no small interest, expecting, however, that when they found they could not overtake the jaguar they would quickly return and again lay siege to us. Greatly to our satisfaction, however, on they went.

"Now is our time; let us run for it!" exclaimed Arthur, shouting to Tim, who speedily descended from the tree.

"Sure, you would not be after leaving such a fine supply of good pork," said Tim, drawing his knife. "If the peccaries come back, we must just slip up our trees again; and as for the jaguar, there's little chance of his showing his nose here, for the brutes will soon kill him, if he has not got a fast pair of heels of his own."

As there appeared little probability of the peccaries returning, we followed Tim's advice, and began cutting up the animals, so as to secure the best joints from each. We soon had three as heavy loads of meat as we could carry; and placing them on our shoulders, we set off towards the settlement looking back, every now and then to ascertain if we were followed.

We hastened along as fast as we could, as we wished not only to escape from the living peccaries, but to bring our friends to carry off a further supply of the slaughtered meat. From some cause or other we were not pursued, and arrived safely at the settlement. Our friends immediately armed themselves with bows and arrows and spears, and got ready to return with us. Kallolo merely took his blowpipe; and giving a peculiar smile, he observed,—"If the creatures will kindly come near me, I will take good care that not one of them gets away." However, on reaching the spot where we had left the slaughtered peccaries no living ones were to be seen, nor did it appear that the jaguar had come back for any of them; so we concluded that he had either been killed, that the savage little brutes had driven him to a distance, or that he had crossed a piece of water, into which they themselves will never willingly enter. Several vultures and eagles had, however, collected to enjoy the feast we had prepared for them, while two armadillos and numerous insects had already attacked the carcasses. We found that several of those we had last killed were untouched, and each of us was able to carry back a heavy load of joints, to turn into hams and bacon in our smoking-house.

We had now, we found after taking stock of our provisions, a supply sufficient to last for our voyage to Stabroek, even though it might prove longer than we calculated on. We had jars of clay and cuja-nuts to carry our stock of water, of which we did not require much, as we should not be compelled to use it till we got out of the river. As the earthen jars, however, were liable to be broken, Uncle Paul determined to manufacture a number of indiarubber bottles. They might possibly impart an unpleasant odour to the water, but would not render it unwholesome; and this supply would serve in case the rest should be exhausted. For this purpose he made a number of clay moulds, with round sticks for the mouths, and baked them slightly. He then covered the moulds to a sufficient thickness with the seringa juice, and dried them in the smoke as our shoes had been. The moulds were easily broken; and the pieces being taken out, the indiarubber bottles were completed, only requiring corks and pieces of string to make them suitable for our object. We were thus supplied with the chief means of supporting existence during our voyage. We had dried fish and flesh, nuts and preserved fruit, rice and the farinaceous produce of the palm-tree. We were more indebted to various species of palm than to any other tree, both for fruit, and flour to supply the place of wheat.

In a spot once apparently inhabited by Indians, but long since abandoned, were several peach-palms,—tall and elegant trees, which rose to the height of sixty feet, and were perfectly straight. Each tree bore several bunches of fruit, a single bunch being as much as the strongest of our party could carry. The fruit takes its name from the colour of the peach, not from its flavour or nature, for it is dry and mealy, and we agreed, when tasting it, that it was like a mixture of chestnuts and cheese. On boiling the fruit it became nearly as mealy as a potato. Each fruit was about the size of a large peach. We found it very nutritious; and eight or ten were as much as one of us could eat at a meal. The appearance of the tree is very beautiful, owing to the rich colour of the foliage. The leaves are green, evenly arched over and forming a deep green vault, with the heavy clusters of ripe red fruit hanging beneath it. We were attracted to the spot by seeing numerous vultures hovering over it; and on reaching the tree we found that they had come not to devour a carcass beneath, as we had supposed, but to feed on the fruit.

Another palm, the assai, afforded us an abundance of berries, about the size of a cranberry, and of a dark brown colour. From it we manufactured a refreshing beverage. The trunk is perfectly smooth, and the fruit grows in heavy clusters just below the long leaves which crown its summit. At first we thought it would be impossible to reach them, but Maco showed us how they were to be obtained. Binding his feet together by a strip of palm-leaves above his instep, he pressed his knees against the trunk, and quickly ascended the polished stem, till he reached the fruit at the summit.

Although we could generally obtain as much game as we required in the immediate neighbourhood of the settlement, we occasionally made long excursions, for the purpose of seeking for a variety. I had one day accompanied Kallolo further to the north, along the shore of the lake, than we had hitherto gone. As we were pushing our way through the forest, we unexpectedly came upon the shores of a small lake, united, as we afterwards discovered, with several other lakes of a similar size and appearance. As we stood there, concealed by the trees which thickly covered its banks, Kallolo whispered to me, "Don't move or make the slightest sound, and we will quickly capture a bird which will be highly prized by our friends." He pointed, as he spoke, to the water, on which I observed a number of enormous circular leaves floating, like vast dishes, their edges turned up all round, and with beautiful flowers rising amidst them. But what was more surprising than the leaves, was to see a large bird with long legs calmly walking over them, and, as far as I could judge, scarcely making them sink in the slightest degree in the water.

Kallolo, telling me to remain quiet, threw off his clothes, and having covered his head with a bunch of grass which he hastily plucked from the bank, he made his way amid the water towards the bird; which, standing on a leaf, was engaged in picking up aquatic insects floating by, and uttering a low-sounding "cluck, cluck" at short intervals. When the bird turned towards Kallolo, he immediately stopped; then on he went again, till he got close behind it, when, suddenly darting out his hand, he seized it by its long legs and drew it quickly under water.

The bird struggled in vain to free itself, and Kallolo brought it to me in triumph. It was, he told me, called the oven-bird, because it walks over those enormous leaves shaped like the pans used for baking the mandioca. I at once recognised it as the jacana. It had black plumage, with a greenish gloss; its legs were very long and slight, as were its toes and claws, especially the hind toe. The body, though it appeared large, was of a singularly light construction, so that it weighs but little when pressing on the floating leaves. Indeed, on measuring it we found that it was about ten inches long; the beak, of an orange colour, being upwards of an inch in length. We carried home our captive; but though we were anxious to keep it and tame it, it died in a few days, probably from being unable to obtain the food to which it was accustomed.

The day after this adventure I was in the woods, when I saw the grass close to me move; I started back, supposing that a serpent was crossing my path, and might spring on me. I stood prepared with my stick to strike it without any sensation of fear; indeed, no snakes need be dreaded by persons of good nerve and correct eye, if seen in time. I watched the spot, when, instead of a snake, a land-tortoise came creeping along. I immediately pounced upon it, and carried it off. It weighed, I judged, about twenty pounds.

Sambo was well-pleased at seeing it. "This is better food than any we have yet found!" he exclaimed. "If we can catch a few more, we shall have enough fresh provisions during the voyage, for they will live a long time without eating."

As it was possible that more might be found in the same spot, Sambo and Maco set off with me to hunt for them. We were more successful than we expected, for we had fallen, it appeared, on a colony of the creatures; and in a short time we captured six, of about the same size as the first. Maco said that, as they seldom move far from home, we should probably catch many more.

We returned home with a tortoise under each arm; and we had now to consider how they were to be kept. They would not remain quietly on their backs, as turtle are wont to do; for immediately they were put in that position they managed to turn over, and began to crawl away. It was therefore settled that we should build a pen in which to confine them till we were ready to sail.

We set to work at once, having in the meantime secured ropes round their bodies, and tethered them to sticks; and before night we had put up a pen of sufficient size to contain as many as we were likely to catch. As they cannot climb, the palings were of no great height; while, as the creatures require a good-sized hole to get through, we were able to put the stakes some distance apart. We at once turned in our tortoises, and gave them various fruits, all of which they ate willingly.

The tortoises made us think of turtle. Though turtle flesh is not considered by many people to equal that of the tortoise, it was very desirable that we should obtain some, as they also can be preserved a long time on board ship.

It was now about the time when they come on shore to lay their eggs, so we agreed to make an excursion along the borders of the lake, in the hope of finding some sandy beach which they might have chosen for that object. As it was a matter of importance, Uncle Paul determined to go himself on the smaller raft, taking Sambo, Kallolo, and me with him. We started at daybreak, provisioned for three days; but as Kallolo carried his blowpipe, and we our bows and arrows, with our long pointed sticks for spears, and some fishing-lines, we could obtain more food should we require it.

We kept along the western shore of the lake towards the north, passing on our way several inlets, which led, we had no doubt, to other lakes in the interior, similar to the one in which we had caught the jacana. After we had gone some distance, no sandy beach appearing in which turtle were likely to lay their eggs, we began to despair of obtaining our object. Still Uncle Paul determined to go further. He expressed his regret that we had not built a canoe in the first instance. We might then have navigated the shores of the lake to a considerable distance; and it would also have served us far better than the raft for fishing. However, as it would have occupied not only our time, but engaged the tools which were required for building the vessel, it had not been considered advisable to attempt the construction of one.

The wind being from the south, we glided calmly on before it. Sometimes, when the wind was fresh, we made good way; at others, when it fell, we had again to take to our paddles.

We were thus moving forward, when Kallolo espied an object floating on the surface of the water. "Paddle slowly!" he said; "and make as little noise as possible. There is a sleeping turtle; and though we cannot catch it alive, we will have it notwithstanding." Saying this, he got his bow ready, with one of several large arrows which he had formed fixed in it. We had cautiously approached; when, standing up, he shot his arrow into the air, which formed a curve and came down perpendicularly on the shell of the turtle.

"Paddle up rapidly!" he exclaimed. We did as he directed, but just as we got near it the turtle disappeared beneath the surface. The shaft of the arrow, however, remaining above it, Kallolo sprang into the water and caught it just as it was sinking, and towed it alongside. Passing a rope round the body of the turtle, we next hauled it on board, when Kallolo, breaking off the shaft, turned the animal on its back. It was alive, but from the weak way in which it moved its legs it was evident that life was ebbing fast. We should, at all events, not return empty-handed.

We were at last thinking of putting about, when Uncle Paul, who was taking another look along the shore, announced that he saw just such a beach as we were in search of. We at once with renewed vigour paddled towards it, and as we drew nearer he declared his belief that we should find it frequented by turtle. Instead of landing on the beach, however, we paddled in on one side, and there saw an open space which would afford us camping-ground. As turtles are timid creatures, and will not lay their eggs on ground disturbed by the footsteps of their human or other foes, it was important not to walk over the ground until they had come on shore. This they do during the night, though they do not return to the water till after sunrise.

We built a hut of boughs, and lighting a fire, cooked our provisions; then, having eaten our supper, we lay down to rest, one of us keeping watch while the rest slept.

Uncle Paul, who had chosen the morning watch, called us just before daylight. We made our way along the shore, cautiously approaching the beach, on which, to our infinite satisfaction, we saw a number of dark objects crawling slowly along. We now hurried forward—Uncle Paul and Kallolo taking one side, Tim and I the other—and were soon among the turtle, which, with all the strength we could exert, we rapidly turned over on their backs. On seeing us, the creatures began to crawl away towards the water; but we were too quick for many of them, and in a short time had, between us, turned over twenty.

There they lay, utterly helpless and at our mercy. But what to do with them, was the first question. We could not carry them all on the raft, and if we left them, they would certainly become the prey of jaguars or alligators, and probably vultures and eagles. Indeed, the poor turtle finds, from its birth to the day of its death, innumerable enemies ready to prey on it. I, as a joke, recommended harnessing them, and letting them tow us; but Sambo observed gravely that, as we could not guide them, they were very likely to carry us off in exactly the opposite direction to that we wished to go.

As the raft, we calculated, could only carry six, we at last determined to build a pen in which to leave them, on their backs, and to cover it over with boughs, so as to protect them from the attacks of any of the foes I have mentioned. As it was only necessary to cut sticks for the purpose four or five feet long, we soon had enough prepared, with a number of the heaviest boughs we could manage to bring to the spot. We then dragged our captives to the pen, and covered them up. People in general do not take this precaution, but then they always leave some one to watch the turned turtles till they can carry them away.

Placing the others on the raft, in high spirits we commenced our return voyage. We met with no accident by the way, and, of course, were heartily welcomed.

While we set off again, the rest of the party commenced building a pen on the shore of the lake, by driving in sticks, so as to enclose a semicircular piece of water, in which the turtles might live at their ease. And on this occasion we carried with us a number of baskets, to fill with turtles' eggs.

On reaching the spot where we had left our turtles, we found that our precautions had not been in vain. An alligator had apparently poked his nose against the sticks, but had been unable to uproot them; and one or more jaguars had certainly visited the spot, but had not succeeded in breaking through the thick roof. During the previous night more turtle had, we found, visited the spot, and we very speedily filled our baskets with eggs.

We had also brought with us a large trough and several clay jars. We broke a considerable number of eggs into the trough, filling it to the brim. In a short time a rich oil rose to the surface. This we skimmed off and put into the jars; repeating the process till all our jars were full. We had thus a good supply of excellent oil, for any purpose for which it might be required. Then, somewhat heavily laden, we returned homewards.

"Well done, my friends! you have amply provisioned the Good Hope; and, please Heaven, we will in a few days get her off the stocks and ready for rigging!" exclaimed the skipper. "That will not take long; and we may then, before the rain sets in, bid farewell to this place, which we shall ever remember with affection for the happy home it has afforded us for so many months."

We were now more busy than ever. The last planks were put on. Our craft was completely decked over, and a cabin raised in the afterpart for Marian and my father. We had manufactured an ample supply of sailcloth, which, with the addition of the sail saved from the old craft, would be sufficient. Cordage and blocks had been made, and the masts and spars were already put up. The fibres of several plants served as oakum for caulking the planks; and two or three resinous trees afforded pitch for the seams, as also for paying over the outside. As we had no paint, the interior was covered over with a varnish which quickly became hard.

The day for the launch was at last fixed. We had no gay-coloured flags, but Sambo had preserved a red handkerchief, which was hoisted to the head of the mainmast, and waved proudly in the breeze. The sky was bright, the wind light and balmy. The shores were then knocked away; and, with loud cheers, and prayers that the Good Hope might have a prosperous voyage, we saw her glide gently into the waters of the lake, on which she sat, as Peter observed, like a wild duck ready to take wing. We had formed a rough pier with the trunks of two large trees, alongside of which she was hauled, for the greater facility of carrying her rigging and spars aboard. The rafts were drawn up on the other side for the same purpose—the last service they were likely to render us.

Though we had an abundance of substantial provisions, we required for our daily wants a supply of fruit and vegetables, as also some wildfowl and other birds. For the purpose of obtaining them, Kallolo and I set out one morning, each of us carrying a large basket on our back; he with his blowpipe in his hand, and I with my bow in mine, and our pointed sticks, without which we never went out. We took the way towards the small lakes, where we were certain to find birds, and probably a variety of fruits, as so bountifully is that land supplied by nature, that some fruits are found in perfection all the year round, though we had to go further than usual to obtain them.

We reached the lake where Kallolo had caught the jacana; and skirting its shore, we passed along a narrow causeway which separated it from another lake of smaller dimensions. We were still proceeding, when Kallolo stopped me, and pointed to a thin column of smoke which arose at some distance, apparently from a fire kindled close to the shore.

"There must be natives there," he whispered; "but whether they are likely to prove friends or foes, I cannot say till I have got a sight of them. Stop here while I wade into the lake; I see by the character of the water-plants that it is shallow, and by keeping behind the bushes I may observe them without being seen myself."

He did as he proposed, and, while I remained hidden behind the bushes, made his way, now swimming, now wading, towards the opening where he had seen the smoke. I watched him anxiously. He stopped, at length, resting his hand on a fallen trunk, and looking out eagerly before him; while I kept an arrow fixed in my bow, ready to shoot should the strangers discover him. Slowly sinking down, so as the more effectually to conceal himself, he made his way towards where I anxiously awaited his return. I saw by the caution he used that he was not satisfied.

"We must hurry away from hence," he whispered. "I saw a large number of people; and, from their paint and the weapons they carry, I have no doubt that they are out on a warlike expedition. They probably are not aware that we are in the neighbourhood, and they may pass by without discovering us; but if they do so, and find how few we are in number, they may be tempted to attack us, under the belief that we possess such articles as they value."

Kallolo said this as we hurried away. We were soon out of sight of the strangers, but he considered it imprudent to remain in their vicinity; and although we had collected only a portion of the fruit for which we had come, and killed but a few birds, we hurried back to the village.

The account we gave made everyone more anxious than ever to get the vessel ready for sea without delay, so that, should the natives attack us, we might, as we had no adequate means of defence, hurry on board and push off into the lake, even though the rigging of the craft was not complete. All hands therefore worked away till darkness put an end to our labours. Kallolo and Maco then volunteered to go out as scouts, to ascertain if the strangers were approaching, that we might not be taken by surprise.

The night, however, passed away as usual; and next morning, as soon as daylight returned we were all on foot—the seamen of the party engaged in rigging the vessel, while the rest of us carried provisions on board. Marian took her share in all our labours, as she had done in manufacturing the sails, the matting for making the baskets, and even the ropes, and in preparing the provisions. We were all, indeed, as busy as ants, going backwards and forwards from the storehouse to the vessel. The last of the provisions carried on board were the turtles and tortoises. The former were laid on their backs on deck, covered with a piece of matting; and the latter were shut up in a box formed for them in the hold.

Another day came to an end, and the Indians, as before, went out to act the part of scouts. On their return they brought the intelligence that the strangers had kept on the other side of the lake, and would, they supposed, pass at a distance from the settlement. However, as we could not be certain that this would be the case, it was agreed that it would be wise to keep a sharp lookout as long as we remained on shore.

We had now only to bend the sails. All who were required were engaged in the work, while the rest were employed in conveying on board the last remaining articles. Polo, who, never having been at sea, was the least handy on board, had gone a short distance from the huts to shoot some parrots from a flock which frequented the neighbourhood, and which had already supplied us with several of their number. They were to be cooked, with the flesh of one of the turtles, before we embarked, as our culinary appliances on board were limited. We had contrived a stove made of clay, but, as it was of small dimensions, it would only serve for boiling our kettle and preparing small dishes. I was assisting Marian to pack up some food for her favourites, which were standing around her: the ara parrot perched on her shoulder, the curassow running round and picking up the grain which I let drop, while Quacko was seated on the roof of her hut, munching a nut. My father and Arthur were engaged in some other way; and Tim had just got a load on his shoulders, when, hearing a shout, we looked round and saw Polo running at full speed towards us.

"Fly! fly! Hasten, my masters; escape for your lives!" he exclaimed in eager tones. "The enemy have caught sight of me, and are following. There are hundreds of them; and they will destroy us all, if they catch us!"

Though I was at first inclined to believe that there could scarcely be so much cause for Polo's alarm, yet I saw that my father and Arthur considered the matter in a serious light.

"Guy, my boy, go at once on board with Marian. Arthur and I will follow," cried my father.

Captain van Dunk, hearing Polo's shouts, inquired what was the matter. Polo repeated what he had said to us. "We will shove off at once, then," exclaimed the skipper. "If the people approaching prove friendly, we can return and get whatever remains. As prudent people, we should not longer delay."

I took Marian's hand, and followed by our feathered pets and a couple of young monkeys in addition to Quacko, we hastened along the stage to the Good Hope. Having seen her safe on board, I was about to return and assist in bringing the few things which remained, when I caught sight of a number of dusky forms in the distance, a bristling array of bows and spears being visible above their heads. The captain shouted to my father and the rest to hasten their steps, while those on board got out some long poles prepared for impelling the vessel when in shallow water.

The shouts of the savages rang through the forest. It was very evident that we had been discovered, and that they intended to attack us. My father and Arthur came hurrying to the beach; Maco came next, bearing a load; and Tim, who seemed to consider it a duty to remain till the last for the defence of his master, brought up the rear. There was no time to be lost. The captain and Peter stretched out their hands to help them on board; and no sooner had Tim leaped on the deck than the last warp was cast off, and the Good Hope began to move into deep water. At that moment our poor tapir, which had been feeding at a safe distance, came trotting down to the beach. He could not under any circumstances have been taken on board, as from his bulk and weight he would have been too much in the way; but we were very sorry to leave him behind, especially when we saw him wading into the lake till his head alone appeared above water.

Our attention, however, was occupied in watching the savages, who now, in overwhelming numbers, came rushing into the midst of our little village. On finding that we had escaped, they hurried down to the beach, uttering loud shrieks and cries, and ordering us to return; while some, drawing their bows, shot their arrows towards us. This, of course, increased our anxiety to escape from them; so the oars were got out and we pulled lustily away, till a light breeze getting up, we hoisted our sail, and the Good Hope began to glide rapidly across the smooth waters of the lake.

On looking back we saw the natives shooting their arrows towards us, and frantically waving their spears; while behind them rose a volume of smoke above the bright flames which were consuming our little village. I could not help fearing that they had vented their rage on the poor tapir, which could scarcely have had time to regain the shore before they reached it. Our huts, too, must have been completely consumed; but as we stood across the lake a point of land shut out for ever our little settlement from our eyes.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

OUR PETS—THE GALE—THE SKIPPER'S VEXATION—ALARMING INTELLIGENCE—THE CHASE—OUR PURSUERS ON SHORE—WE REACH STABROEK—WELCOME INTELLIGENCE— OUR RETURN TO TRINIDAD—MY FATHER'S DEATH—CONCLUSION.

We glided slowly across the lake during the night, and at early dawn came in sight of the entrance of a broad passage, which our good captain believed would lead us through a chain of lakes into the river by which we had come. The wind favoured us, and either the captain or his mate were continually sounding with long poles, to avoid the risk of running on any hidden sandbank which might lie in our course.

The appearance of the banks was greatly changed: long grass and shrubs grew on spots before concealed by water; small islands covered with vegetation were seen where we had supposed no land existed. Navigation, therefore, was extremely difficult, and the greatest caution was necessary to escape running on shore. Still, the depth of water was considerable, so that we had no fear of being stopped by impassable sandbanks or shoals. In several places which had before been overspread by the water we saw native huts, with the inhabitants—who gazed at us with astonishment as we passed—collected round them. Some followed us in canoes, but ignorant that we were not possessed of firearms, they kept at a distance. Occasionally a few Indians came off to trade, bringing tortoises and fruit; but as we would not allow them on board, they did not discover our defenceless condition; and we took good care to hide our bows and arrows, which would have made them suspect that we had no firearms.

We were somewhat closely packed on board the little vessel, what with twelve human beings, three monkeys, the curassow, the macaw, two parrots and three parakeets—one with a yellow top-knot, who, from his manners, showed that he considered himself the chief of the party, and deserving of the most attention; then there were ten turtles and a number of tortoises. The turtles, however, were stowed in the hold, and served as ballast. Quacko and the parrots afforded us constant amusement. The former generally took up his seat on the roof of the cabin, in front of the parrots, whose perches were fixed upon it. Arthur, Marian, and I took infinite pains to improve their manners and teach them all sort of tricks, so that they might be fit, as Marian observed, to appear in civilised society.

Though we had been very happy during our long sojourn in the wilds of the Orinoco, the elders of the party especially looked forward with satisfaction to reaching a place where we could live without fear of attack from savages, anacondas, or wild beasts, and where we could hear what was going on in the world. Marian and I agreed, however, that we should have been very happy to have remained on at our settlement as long as our friends liked to stay.

We now and then, I must confess, had some difficulty in keeping our pets in order. They had got on very well on shore, but in the close contact to which they were subjected on board their tempers were somewhat tried, and Uncle Paul suggested that we should take immediate steps for the setting up of family government. Jack, the macaw, though he had been placed on the highest perch as a post of honour, was continually climbing down to quarrel with the parrots, and creating a fearful hubbub with his hoarse screaming; while the parrots fought desperately over their food. One day they and the macaw, while wrangling together, in the blindness of their anger tumbled overboard; and had not Sambo jumped into the water and hauled them out, they would have all three been drowned, or fallen into the maw of some ravenous alligator. The parakeets were as quarrelsome as their larger brethren—yellow-top considered himself quite as good as a dozen green ones; while they, with their loud screeches, created such a disturbance that the skipper sometimes threatened to send them on shore, where they might settle their disputes by themselves. Sometimes the three parakeets would band together, and trotting up and down would insult the parrots. When a flock of their relatives passed over the vessel, the whole feathered community would set up so terrific a scream, that it might have been heard by every bird within the circuit of a mile. The curassow was the best behaved of the party. When her meals were over she would sit for hours together at Marian's feet, who was diligently endeavouring to repair some of her worn-out garments, so as to appear respectable on her arrival. Crass made herself very useful, also, in eating up the flies and other insects which came on board.

At length we reached the main stream of the Orinoco, down which we glided rapidly with the current. We were not, however, destined to perform our voyage without further adventures. The weather, hitherto fine, suddenly changed, and a strong wind got up, which blew in our teeth. It increased to a gale, which sorely tried the little craft, and threatened to tear our sails into ribbons. Happily a deep bay, or the mouth of a river or igarape, appeared on our starboard hand; and running into it, we found shelter beneath a lofty bank, where there was deep water close to the shore. Recollecting our former escape, we could not help fearing that, should the wind change, we might meet with a similar accident. We had, I should have said, an anchor made of very heavy, hard wood, weighted with stones bound on by stout ropes. It was, as may be supposed, an unwieldy and ugly affair; and, as we could not have carried another, we had to be very careful not to lose it.

The wind howled and the tall trees waved above our heads, but we lay secure; the only risk being from some giant of the forest, which, uprooted, might come crashing down upon our deck, or from some big limb torn off. But as there was not much probability of such an occurrence, we remained where we were, hoping that it might not happen. As the gale gave no signs of abating, our three Indians swam on shore, Kallolo with his blowpipe, and the other two with their bows, to kill some game. After safely landing, they were soon lost to sight amid the trees.

The skipper would allow no one else to go. "It will not be wise to be left shorthanded, in case anything should happen," he observed. "We know not what may occur."

As we saw no signs of inhabitants, we did not expect to be visited either by friends or foes; still, had the latter appeared, they might have been tempted to come on board from seeing but few people on the vessel's deck.

Night came on, and the Indians not having returned, we began at length to grow anxious about them. The gale had not abated, and we thought that, knowing we should not move, they had been induced to go further than they had intended. They would not desert us—of that we were very sure; indeed, both Kallolo and Maco had their families residing in the neighbourhood of Stabroek, and were anxious to return to them. Half of our party kept watch at night, while the rest lay down, ready to start up in a moment.

Towards morning the wind began to decrease, and the skipper did not conceal his vexation at the non-appearance of the Indians. "If the wind becomes fair, we must sail and leave them behind," he exclaimed. "They ought to have known better than to go so far away."

Uncle Paul, however, tried to excuse them, and expressed his belief that they would not intentionally have delayed returning. "The wind has not yet gone down or changed," he said; "and as we cannot possibly sail, Kallolo, who knows this, sees that it is not absolutely necessary to return. Let us wait patiently; they will come back before long."

The sun arose; the clouds dispersed, but still the wind blew against us. After an hour or more had passed, however, on looking out we perceived that the tree-tops no longer waved; and on glancing across the river we found that its surface, hitherto broken into foaming waves, had become perfectly calm.

"The wind is about to change, and we ought to have been out of this place," exclaimed the skipper. "We must get up the anchor and row off into the channel. The fellows will have a longer swim, that's all."

"You would not desert them, surely," said Uncle Paul.

"Well, I should be sorry to do so. We will wait a bit, and see if they come. I hope nothing has happened to the poor men," said the kind-hearted skipper, who had never really intended to leave the Indians behind, and whose anger had now given way to anxiety on their account. He even proposed sending Sambo on shore to try and discover what had become of them; but Uncle Paul dissuaded him from this, as, had they been taken prisoners, or got into any other difficulty, the black would run a great risk of sharing their fate. Still we delayed. At last the skipper, with a sigh, exclaimed, "We must get up the anchor, Peter; the poor fellows would have come back before this if they were coming at all."

Uncle Paul no longer made any objections. We shortened in the cable, but it required all our strength to haul up the ponderous anchor. We had managed to lift it out of its oozy bed, when we heard a shout, and looking up we saw the three natives rushing through the forest. Without stopping for a moment they dashed into the water. As they swam off they called out to us to heave them ropes. They were quickly alongside; and even before they had scrambled on board Kallolo cried out, "Get under way! get under way! No time to be lost!"

"That's just what we were about to do," said the skipper; "but why, after keeping us so long, are you in so great a hurry?"

"We could not help the delay; but there's no time to be lost. We will tell you all about it presently. Get under way! get under way!" repeated Kallolo.

As he spoke, he and his companions sprang forward to assist in hoisting up and securing the anchor. The oars were then got out, and the vessel's head was so directed that she might get round the point of land which had served to shelter us. The sails were in the meantime loosed, so as to sheet home as soon as they filled. Kallolo and the other Indians were pulling so lustily at the oars, that they had no time to tell us what had happened; but I saw them looking anxiously up the river.

As we got out into the stream, clear of the long point which had hitherto concealed the upper part of the river from our view, we saw a large vessel under all sail standing down towards us. Her appearance was sufficient to account for their alarm. There could be no doubt that she was Spanish, and that, should she overtake us, we should be captured and carried to their settlement of Angostura; where we should certainly be thrown into prison, and very probably lose our lives. As might be supposed, we all pulled away with redoubled efforts, till we made the long oars crack. Fortunately the Spaniard had but little wind, and we were well able to keep ahead of her; but should a breeze come she would probably get it first, and bring it up with her, and too probably overtake us.

"Courage, my friends! courage!" exclaimed the brave skipper. "The Good Hope is not captured yet. She will prove no laggard, depend on that, and may have as fast a pair of heels as our enemy."

We turned our eyes anxiously at the vessel astern. It was possible that those on board might not suspect who we were, and that she might be only sailing down the river without the intention of chasing us. Still, should she come up with the Good Hope, they would certainly send on board and discover that we were foreigners, who had, according to their notions, no business to be in the Orinoco.

At length we saw a light wind was playing across the stream, and our sails were rigged out. It came right aft. Away we flew, the canvas of the Spaniard filling at the same time. On and on we sped, but the Spaniard seemed to move through the water fully as fast. Kallolo now told us how, after having had a successful hunt, he and his companions were returning on the previous evening, expecting to get on board before nightfall, when they found themselves on the opposite side of the bay. Suddenly a party of white men, whom they took to be hunters, sprang out on them and made them prisoners. The strangers had seen the Good Hope, and had managed to draw from them the information that those on board were English and Dutch. On hearing this, their captors had despatched two of their party up the river, where a Spanish guardacosta lay at anchor. They pretended to be very indifferent as to what had happened; and the Spaniards, who in reality belonged to the vessel, were thrown off their guard. During the night Kallolo and his companions managed to make their escape, and finding no canoe in which to cross the bay, had hastened round by the shore to warn us of our danger. It was now clear that the Spanish vessel was following us with hostile intentions, and that should she overtake us we might suffer the fate we apprehended.

But "a stern chase is a long chase," and the Good Hope proved herself a fast little craft. As she drew but a few feet of water, we were able to keep a straight course, whereas the larger vessel had to deviate from hers several times; thus by nightfall we had drawn considerably ahead.

On the previous night we had slept but little; this night not one of us closed our eyes. We could just see the lofty sails of the Spaniard gliding after us like some ferocious giant eager for our destruction. The wind increased, and she was evidently making more rapid way. On and on she came. Presently the loud sound of a piece of ordnance boomed through the night air, and the shot splashed into the water close astern of us.

"A miss is as good as a mile," said the skipper, who was at the helm, in his usual quiet tone. "We will not give in, though a dozen such popguns as she carries should be fired at us."

Another shot came whistling past our quarter, and dropped alongside; a third came, and that fell astern.

"We passed over some shallow water just now," said Peter, who was sounding with a pole.

"Ah, and the Spaniard too has found out that the water is shallow. See! see! she's on shore!" exclaimed the skipper.

As we looked astern we saw that the vessel chasing us had let all her sails fly. On we glided. She grew fainter and fainter, till we could barely distinguish her outline. We all began to breathe more freely. In less than half an hour we could no longer discern her. We stood on, and when the sun rose right ahead no sail was in sight.

The weather continued fine, and in a few days the Good Hope was rising buoyantly on the ocean wave, her head directed to the southward.

Stabroek was soon reached, and our brave skipper, who was well-known there, introduced us to his friends, to whom he recounted our adventures, and secured us a warm reception.

I must not stop to describe our stay at the capital of the then Dutch colony of Guiana. My father at length received news from Trinidad which once more raised his drooping spirits. An enlightened naval officer, Don Josef Chacon, had been appointed governor. He had expelled the dissolute monks, and abolished the Inquisition; besides granting fertile lands to new colonists, assisting them with cattle and implements of husbandry, and providing for the free exercise of mercantile affairs. We might return in safety. We accordingly forthwith embarked on board a vessel commanded by our good friend Captain van Dunk, and arrived safely in the colony. Doctor Antonio had administered my father's affairs with honesty and wisdom, and at once delivered over his estate to him, refusing to receive more than a very moderate recompense for the services he had rendered.

Our affairs flourished, but my father never entirely recovered his health. In a very few years he died, and was buried by the side of our poor mother. Uncle Paul had never lost his affection for our beloved Pennsylvania, nor had Arthur or I; so at my father's death we disposed of our property in Trinidad, which realised not only sufficient to pay off all my father's liabilities, but to secure the means for carrying on a mercantile business in our native land.

Years have passed since then. The battle for independence has been fought and won. Marian long ago became Arthur's bride; and I have a wife of my own, who, although she has never stirred out of her native land, knows as much about our adventures as we do. Uncle Paul remained a bachelor to the end of his days, with Sambo as his attendant; and faithful Tim, who married a fair daughter of Erin from the "ould country," refusing to quit us, still remains in our service; while Captain van Dunk, who entered the American navy, after ploughing the seas for many a year has settled down on a farm near us, where he ploughs the land with the same energy and perseverance he ever exhibited. Of course, as may be supposed, Marian and I often narrate to our children the adventures we met with "in the wilds of Trinidad and the Orinoco."

THE END