"It will have a chance of bewailing its own death," said the lieutenant peevishly, "as soon as I can get a shot at it," at which the guides betrayed as much horror as Smyth himself would have shown had they proposed using an albatross as a target.

"What are we going to do if we meet another string of mules along here?" he asked.

"One party must lie down and let the other pa.s.s over it," said Filipe indifferently.

By night-time the severe nerve strain of such a pa.s.sage was ended, for this ledge at last became a rock-walled mountain-path sloping at quite an easy incline. They were no sooner well along this road the following morning than the guides looked to the loading of the guns, for they said that in the neighbourhood they might expect to meet with black Indians, who were notorious cannibals, and whom it would be their duty to kill. But it happened that none thought it worth while to put in an appearance; the "cannibals" were probably imaginary, though, of course, there are blacks--negroes, not Indians--settled in various parts of the Andes, the descendants of the African slaves introduced by the Spaniards in the sixteenth century to carry packages of gold or silver which the Indians could not or would not carry.

At last the most wonderful mountain-range in the world was crossed.

The mules were left at a village, and the two Jeveros had an opportunity of showing that they were as expert on the water as on the mountains. For now they were in Amazonian Peru, and the Huallaga River had to be descended and examined before the sailors' task was accomplished. In this more easterly forest district of Peru there are, at this day, nearly four hundred thousand Indians, and at that time there were half a million; many of them very degraded, many more warlike and intelligent heathens, and others who led quite peaceable lives as farmers, planters, fishers, or exporters of turtle-oil.

Only once were the sailors in serious danger at the hands of any of these tribes, and that was due not to themselves or to the natives, but to the Jevero guides, both of whom had an ineradicable contempt for all Indian families but their own.

This happened soon after the return journey up the Huallaga had begun.

Smyth had expected such an occurrence for some time, for he had more than once been forced to remonstrate with his men for their quarrelsome or jeering att.i.tude towards Indians whom they met and talked with, and who would have been perfectly willing to be friendly and obliging. They came up with a large canoe containing eight Indians who were lying in wait for a manatee. Smyth bade the Jeveros draw up, and entered into conversation with the hunters, who answered civilly, though not without some distrust. Luis and Filipe joined in unasked, and, when it was too late, the lieutenant perceived that they were "chaffing" the strangers. These became more and more angry, and at last refused to answer Smyth, who thereupon, for peace' sake, told his canoemen to paddle on. They obeyed, but not without a parting jeer which the Englishmen did not understand, but which so incensed the Indian in the bows of the other canoe that he hurled the harpoon which he was holding straight at Luis.

Luis gave a peculiar twist with his paddle, the canoe shot sideways, and the weapon pa.s.sed harmlessly by him. Filipe picked up the short-barrelled gun that lay at his feet, but, quick to meet all emergencies, Smyth drew a pistol and pointed it at him.

"If you don't drop it before I count three, I shall fire."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FIERCE RETORT

The Indian in the bows of the other canoe became so incensed at the "chaffing" of the strangers that he hurled the harpoon he was holding straight at Luis.]

In English, he added quickly to the midshipman, "Cover Luis, if he tries any games."

Filipe dropped the gun with a shame-faced little laugh, and Luis showed no disposition either to take revenge for the harpoon, or to back up his friend against their employer.

"Give way, as hard as you can; both of you," said the lieutenant, watching, with no little concern, the harpoons which were being held in readiness to throw at his canoe. Perhaps one bullet from his gun might have put the whole boat's crew to flight, but he had the love of fair play and reluctance to kill which has distinguished the majority of British explorers, whether renowned or obscure. He put his pride in his pocket and frankly ran away.

Strangely enough, neither of the Jeveros ever showed any animosity towards him for thus siding with the enemy. When, at length, the parting time came, both pressed keepsakes on the young officers, and then surprised them by holding them by the hands and crying over them like a pair of women.

CHAPTER X

THE CARIBS OF GUATEMALA

In 1839, curious as to the rumours of general anarchy prevailing throughout most of the Central American countries, the United States Government sent a young Foreign Office official--Mr. John Lloyd Stephens--to find out the truth of the matter. At first glance there seems nothing specially alarming or hazardous about such a mission, nor would there be nowadays; but, at the date of which we are speaking, there were no means of rapid communication between the towns, and many of the roads, rivers, and forest or mountain tracks were in the hands of strong parties of Carib and Mosquito Indians, Zambos, and Mestizos (white and Indian half-bloods), who would have no more respect for an agent of the American Government than for the colonists of their own country, against whom many of them were uniting their forces.

Under the circ.u.mstances, Mr. Stephens thought it wisest to land at Belize, and learn from the English officials there the best plan to pursue. British Honduras at that time was not strictly a Crown Colony, but was governed by the executive in Jamaica. The commanding officer of the garrison, Colonel McDonald, received him with great geniality, and entertained him for a couple of days. But he could promise him no material help, he said, when once he was off British soil; he had no authority even to lend him a boat or launch, and dared not take upon himself to send an armed escort beyond the frontier.

"There is a Guatemala steamer starting up the Belize river to-morrow night," he said. "I will send down and book you a pa.s.sage. After you land you must not rely on us"--the Colonel laughed--"in our official capacity, that is to say. Of course, some of the staff are often up country after game, and if we should happen to find you in a tight corner on somebody else's ground, we couldn't, as private individuals, leave you in the lurch. You've got a nasty job; Guatemala and Honduras are both more or less in rebellion; so's Mexico for that matter; and the Indians are plundering Government and revolutionaries alike. We've had a little trouble of our own with the Caribs; you'll probably meet some of our firing-parties, any of whom will guarantee you protection as long as you're our side of the boundary."

The next evening, Mr. Stephens, accompanied by his secretary, Mr.

Catherwood, went on board the little steamer--a boat which an American or English owner would send round the world with a ship's company of six, but which, here, was manned by no less than twenty Mestizos, an English engineer, and a Spanish skipper. The only other pa.s.senger was a young Irish Franciscan, who proved very jovial company, and who professed to regard the Indian risings as a mere idle scare. He, too, was going into the first native territory through which the travellers must pa.s.s, and offered himself as their guide thus far.

They could not have had a better, for his "cloth" was of more use to them than a small escort might have been. Soon after leaving the steamer they came to the first of the Carib camps. The Irishman baptised all the babies in the place, good-humouredly "chaffed" the warriors over their unwisdom in taking part in white men's squabbles, procured a supply of provisions for himself and his companions, and all three set off across the boundary into the more dangerous territory.

They should by right have reached a Spanish village that night, where they would have been able to obtain horses; but a storm came on, and there was nothing for it but to wait on the plain till it was over. A question arose as to shelter and fuel, and this was solved by their seeing a sheep-fold in the distance. They came up to it and found it untenanted; there was a hut big enough for three persons to sit in, but too small for even one to lie in. For a fire, they broke down some of the rails of the fold, from which they cut kindling wood, and soon had a cosy blaze which defied the rain; they ate their supper and slept on the floor of the hut, huddled together.

In the morning they were awakened by a loud chattering of men, and Stephens, who was nearest the door, found himself being dragged forcibly into the open, while he was rubbing his eyes and trying to remember where he was. Catherwood sprang out after him, pistol in hand, only to be overpowered and relieved of it by a crowd of Caribs.

But, at sight of the friar, the Indians hesitated and became less noisy. He spoke to them in their own language, and demanded to know the cause of this violence.

"These men have broken up and burnt our sheep-fold," exclaimed one of the Caribs.

"Well, well; leave go and I'll explain. Give that gentleman his pistol back; he doesn't want to hurt you."

"Tell them we'll pay for our night's lodging," added Stephens.

An explanation was offered and accepted, as were five dollars (about the value of the whole enclosure in a country where wood was plentiful) from the Americans; and the mollified Caribs led the way to their camp, gave the strangers a good breakfast, and put them on their road for the Spanish village. There they found everything quiet and orderly, though reports were rife as to terrible doings farther west; the Irishman obtained two good horses for his friends and bade them good-bye, as their ways divided here.

"We're on our own resources now, and no mistake," said Stephens when, coming to the end of the plain, they found themselves in the hilly district which grows higher and higher till it becomes the Central Guatemala Range, 13,000 feet high. "Let's have a look at the chart."

Colonel McDonald had warned them of the mountains, and had given them a plan showing one or two deep river valleys, here and in Salvador, by following which they could reach the Pacific coast without any climbing that a horse could not manage. Upon this an Indian village was marked at a distance of about six miles from where they now were; and they might expect to reach it easily by nightfall, after allowing themselves ample time for making notes of the country by the way. They were tolerably sure of a civil reception and a night's lodging, for their thoughtful Irish friend had given them a letter of introduction to the resident Spanish padre of the place.

They made very few notes, for they had no fancy for a second night over a fire of palings; another storm was threatening, and they spurred for the village without further delay, arriving at the same time as the rain. It was just at the end of the _invierno_, or wet season, which consists, in Central America, of lengthy thunderstorms at very irregular intervals. The priest happened to be absent, but letters of recommendation were superfluous here; the travellers had landed on a tribe of Caribs as different from the others as yeoman-farmers are from gypsies. The others had been one part shepherds and nine parts brigands; these were the agricultural Guatemalans, descendants of the most highly civilised of the ancient Indians, whom--by reason of their very civilisation--Cortez could easily subdue in war, while the other tribes rendered his march through the country anything but safe or triumphant. Their inoffensive disposition made the Spaniards treat them rather as proteges than as victims.

The only difficulty that presented itself was that few of the inhabitants spoke any language but their own, for the tribe had, for four centuries, resisted all attempts to force a new language or new laws upon them; even their Christianity was but a hundred years old.

They entertained the visitors well, but could give them no information as to the state of the country; they were not interested in the doings of the outer world; they cultivated their cochineal insects, grew their coffee, tended their cattle, and minded their own business. They gave the Americans an unoccupied hut, brought them a generous supply of meat, wine, and cakes, and left them to amuse themselves for the night, with instructions to ring if they wanted anything; the ringing, by the way, to be performed by beating a drum which they hung outside the hut door.

Just before it was light, Stephens waked to hear a low cry from his friend. He sat up and struck a light. Catherwood was lying with his knees drawn up, hands clenched, and eyes staring, and, in reply to the other's questionings, answered only in an incoherent babble. Stephens crossed over to him and saw that his teeth were chattering and his face almost scarlet; there was no doubt as to his condition; he was in a burning fever. Nothing could have been more unlucky. He had brought the young fellow with him purely on his own account, and unauthorised by his department. He was not in Government service, but merely a personal friend whom Stephens' private means enabled him to keep in constant employment as amanuensis; therefore, to lose several days, or weeks, nursing him, at such a time, would be to bring himself into serious disgrace with the ministry. Yet how could he leave him in an Indian camp, to the tender mercies of some mad witch-doctor, who would charm and physic him to death with the most generous intentions?

He paced up and down for a while, and, at daylight, went out into the open, forced by his own ignorance of medicine, and his anxiety for his friend's safety, to stoop to ask advice of a people whom his American upbringing had taught him to despise. And it was just possible that the Spanish padre might have returned by now, and he would be sure to possess some knowledge of drugs and minor surgery. In the village street he met the chief, one of the few natives who spoke Spanish.

"I will call the physician of the tribe," he said, when Stephens, learning to his dismay that the priest was not expected till night-time, had communicated his difficulty.

The native doctor was a little old man who had no small opinion of his own importance, and was as contemptuously ignorant of Spanish as the Yankee was of Huaxtecan and Cariban. He pa.s.sed his hand over the patient's brow, breathed on him, muttered incantations, and then walked round the hut about a dozen times, solemnly talking to himself, till Stephens could scarcely resist the temptation to give him a lift into the street with his foot. After a time the _piache_, doctor, conjurer, or whatever he called himself, took out two powders from his girdle, poured water on them, sipped the drink, breathed and mumbled over it, opened the sufferer's mouth, and poured it down his throat before the spectator could make up his mind whether to interfere or no. Then the old image strutted out of the hut, as proud as Punch.

This was all very well, but Stephens' mind was ill at ease. He followed the man of medicine into the street, and found the chief waiting modestly but expectantly outside.

"Ask him what he has given my friend," he said, curtly. The chief bowed, but shook his head.

"These are mysteries into which I may not inquire. The physician's secrets are sacred. You may rest a.s.sured that the young white man will soon be well."

Of course, Stephens did anything but rest a.s.sured of this. He turned into the hut again, and lo! Catherwood was sleeping as peacefully as a child, with no sign of indisposition except the flush on his face. The chief peeped in apologetically.

"He says that the sick senor will be well enough to travel by midday,"

he whispered. It was now four o'clock; Stephens ate some breakfast fretfully, looked at the patient, walked about the village, and sought to kill time as best he could. Every time he re-entered the hut, Catherwood's temperature was less high; and, about the middle of the day, he awoke of his own accord, ravenous for some breakfast. The old medicine-man had known his business; had administered two, out of the thousand and two, healing drugs which the American forests and valleys produce--probably quinine and some preparation of poppy--and had nipped in the bud what was doubtless an attack of malarial fever.

Catherwood paid his doctor's bill by the gift of a four-bladed pen-knife, his friend forced a similar present on the chief, and early in the afternoon they rode away about their business. The next few weeks were pa.s.sed in hurried journeys from town to town, in false alarms, in being potted at by revolutionaries, and humbugged by officials; and by the time they had crossed once more to the Bay of Honduras and the Guatemala coast, they had found out all that there was to learn.

About a mile from the British boundary they encountered their most exciting adventure. Outside a Carib village were a dozen Indians and Mestizos, all armed with guns, and in heated argument with five young men, who were obviously British officers in mufti; these also had guns, and two of them carried well-filled game-bags.

"You intend to keep us here? It will be the worse for you if you try it," the eldest of the white men was saying in Spanish.

"Unless you give us what we ask," replied a Mestizo insolently. "You have no right to be over the border."