Guapo with his knife had soon cleared off several large pieces of the maguey, and these, fried along with the vicuna meat, enabled the party to make a supper sufficiently palatable. A cup of pure water from the cold mountain stream, sweeter than all the wine in the world, washed it down; and they went to rest with hearts full of contentment and grat.i.tude.

They rose at an early hour, and, breakfasting as they had supped, once more took the road.

After travelling a mile or two, the path gradually ascended along one of those narrow ledges that shelve out from the cliff, of which we have already spoken. They soon found themselves hundreds of feet above the bed of the torrent, yet still hundreds of feet above them rose the wall of dark porphyry, seamed, and scarred, and frowning. The ledge or path was of unequal breadth--here and there forming little tables or platforms. At other places, however, it was so narrow that those who were mounted could look over the brink of the precipice into the frothing water below--so narrow that no two animals could have pa.s.sed each other. These terrible pa.s.ses were sometimes more than an hundred yards in length, and not straight, but winding around b.u.t.tresses of the rock, so that one end was not visible from the other.

On frequented roads, where such places occur, it is usual for travellers, entering upon them, to shout, so that any one who chances to be coming from the opposite side, may have warning and halt. Sometimes this warning is neglected, and two trains of mules or llamas meet upon the ledge! Then there is a terrible scene--the drivers quarrel--one party has to submit--their animals have to be unloaded and dragged back by the heels to some wider part of the path, so that each party can get past in its turn!

Near the highest part of the road, our travellers had entered upon one of these narrow ledges, and were proceeding along it with caution. The trusty mule, that carried Dona Isidora and Leona, was in front, the horse followed, and then the llamas. It is safer to ride than walk on such occasions, especially upon mules, for these animals are more sure-footed than the traveller himself. The horse that carried Leon, however, was as safe as any mule. He was one of the small Spanish-American breed, almost as sure-footed as a chamois.

The torrent rushed and thundered beneath. It was fearful to listen and look downward; the heads of all were giddy, and their hearts full of fear. Guapo, alone accustomed to such dangers, was of steady nerve. He and Don Pablo afoot were in the rear.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GUAPO'S ENCOUNTER WITH THE BULLS.]

They had neared the highest point of the road, where a jutting rock hid all beyond from their view. They were already within a few paces of this rock, when the mule--which, as we have stated, was in the front--suddenly stopped, showing such symptoms of terror that Dona Isidora and the little Leona both shrieked!

Of course all the rest came to a halt behind the terrified and trembling mule. Don Pablo, from behind, shouted out, inquiring the cause of the alarm; but before any answer could be given the cause became apparent to all. Around the rock suddenly appeared the head and horns of a fierce bull, and the next moment his whole body had come into view, while another pair of horns and another head were seen close behind him!

It would be difficult to describe the feelings of our travellers at that moment. The bull came on with a determined and sullen look, until he stood nearly head to head with the mule. The smoke of his wide steaming nostrils was mingled with the breath of the terrified mule, and he held his head downward, and evidently with the intention of rushing forward upon the latter. Neither could have gone back, and of course the fierce bull would drive the mule into the abyss. The other bull stood close behind, ready to continue the work if the first one failed, and, perhaps, there were many others behind!

The mule was sensible of her danger, and, planting her hoofs firmly on the hard rock, she clung closely to the precipice. But this would not have served her, had not a hand interposed in her behalf. Amidst the terrified cries of the children, the voice of Guapo was heard calling to Don Pablo,--"Your pistols, master! give me your pistols!"

Something glided quickly among the legs of the animals. It was the lithe body of the Indian. In a second's time he appeared in front of the mule.

The bull was just lowering his head to charge forward--his horns were set--the foam fell from his lips--and his eyes glanced fire out of their dark orbs. Before he could make the rush, there came the loud report of a pistol--a cloud of sulphury smoke--a short struggle on the cliff--and then a dead plunge in the torrent below!

The smoke partially cleared away; then came another crack--another cloud--another short struggle--and another distant plash in the water!

The smoke cleared away a second time. The two bulls were no longer to be seen!

Guapo, in front of the mule, now ran forward upon the ledge, and looked around the b.u.t.tress of rock. Then, turning suddenly, he waved his hand, and shouted back,--

"No more, master; you may come on--the road is clear!"

CHAPTER XIII.

THE LONE CROSS IN THE FOREST.

After two more days of fatiguing travel, the road parted from the bank of the river, and ran along the ridge of a high mountain spur in a direction at right angles to that of the Andes themselves. This spur continued for several miles, and then ended abruptly. At the point where it ended, the path, which for the whole of the day had been scarcely traceable, also came to an end. They were now of course in a forest-covered country--in the _Ceja de la Montana_--that is, the forest that covers the foot-hills of the mountains. The forest of the plains, which were yet lower down, is known as the "Montana" proper.

During that day they had found the road in several places choked up with underwood, and Guapo had to clear it with his _machete_--a sort of half-sword, half-knife, used throughout all Spanish America, partly to cut brushwood and partly as a weapon of defence. Where the ridge ended, however, what had once been a road was now entirely overgrown--vines and llianas of large size crossed the path. Evidently no one had pa.s.sed for years. A road existed no longer; the luxuriant vegetation had effaced it.

This is no unusual thing on the borders of the Montana. Many a settlement had existed there in former times, and had been abandoned. No doubt the road they had been following once led to some such settlement that had long since fallen into ruin.

It is a melancholy fact that the Spanish-Americans--including the Mexican nation--have been retrograding for the last hundred years.

Settlements which they have made, and even large cities built by them, are now deserted and in ruins; and extensive tracts of country, once occupied by them, have become uninhabited, and have gone back to a state of nature. Whole provinces, conquered and peopled by the followers of Cortez and Pizarro, have within the last fifty years been retaken from them _by the Indians_: and it would be very easy to prove, that had the descendants of the Spanish conquerors, been left to themselves, another half century would have seen them driven from that very continent which their forefathers so easily conquered and so cruelly kept. This re-conquest on the part of the Indian races was going on in a wholesale way in the northern provinces of Mexico. But it is now interrupted by the approach of another and stronger race from the East--the Anglo-American.

To return to our travellers. Don Pablo was not surprised that the road had run out. He had been expecting this for miles back. What was to be done? Of course they must halt for that night at least. Indeed it was already near camping-time. The sun was low in the sky, and the animals were all much jaded. The llamas could not have gone much farther. They looked as if they should never go farther. The heat of the climate--it had been getting warmer every hour--was too much for them. These animals, whose native home is among the high cool mountain valleys, as already observed, cannot live in the low tropical plains. Even as they descended the Sierras they had shown symptoms of suffering from the heat during all that day. Their strength was now fairly exhausted.

The party halted. A little open s.p.a.ce was chosen for the camp. The animals were relieved of their burdens and tied to the trees, lest they might stray off and be lost in the thick woods. A fire was kindled, and part of the vicuna meat cooked for supper.

It was not yet night when they had finished eating, and all were seated on the ground. The countenance of the father was clouded with a melancholy expression. Dona Isidora sat by his side and tried to cheer him, endeavouring to force a smile into her large black eyes. The little Leona, with her head resting on her mother's lap, overcome with the heat and fatigue, had fallen asleep. Leon, seeing the dejected look of his father, was silent and thoughtful. Guapo was busy with his llamas.

"Come, dear husband!" said the lady, trying to a.s.sume a cheerful tone, "do not be so sad. We are now safe. Surely they will never pursue us here."

"They may not," mechanically replied Don Pablo; "but what then? We have escaped death, for what purpose? Either to live like savages in these wild woods--perhaps to be killed by savages--perhaps to die of hunger!"

"Do not say so, Don Pablo. I have never heard that the Indians of these parts were cruel. They will not injure poor harmless people such as we are. And as for starving, are not these luxuriant woods filled with roots and fruits that will sustain life a long while? You, too, know so well what they are! Dear husband, do not despond; G.o.d will not forsake us. He has enabled us to escape from our enemies, from fearful dangers on our journey. Fear not! He will not leave us to perish now."

The cheering words of his beautiful wife had their effect upon Don Pablo. He embraced and kissed her in a transport of love and grat.i.tude.

He felt inspired with new hope. The vigour of mind and body, that for days had deserted him, now suddenly returned; and he sprang to his feet evidently with some newly-formed resolution.

The country both before and behind them was shut out from their view by the thick foliage and underwood. A tall tree grew by the spot, with branches down to the level of a man's head. Don Pablo approached this tree, and seizing the branches drew himself up, and then climbed on towards its top. When he had reached a sufficient height, to overlook the surrounding woods, he stopped; and, resting himself upon one of the branches, looked abroad towards the east. All the rest stood watching him from below.

He had been gazing but a few seconds when his face brightened up, and a smile of satisfaction was seen to play upon his countenance. He evidently saw something that pleased him. Isidora, impatient, called out to him from below; but Don Pablo waved his hand to her, as if admonishing her to be silent.

"Have patience, love," he cried down. "I shall descend presently and tell you all. I have good news, but be patient."

It required a good share of patience, for Don Pablo after this remained a full half-hour upon the tree. He was not all the time looking abroad, however. Part of it he sat upon his perch--his head leaning forward, and his eyes not appearing to be particularly engaged with anything. He was busy with his thoughts, and evidently meditating on some great project.

Perhaps the going down of the sun admonished him, as much as the desire of satisfying his wife's curiosity, but just as the bright orb was sinking among the far tree-tops he descended.

"Now, Don Pablo," said the fair Isidora, pretending to frown and look angry, "you have tried our patience, have you not? Come, then, no more mystery, but tell us all. What have you seen?"

"Forgive me, wife; you shall know all."

Both sat down upon the trunk of a dead tree that Guapo had felled, and was cutting up for firewood: not that it was at all cold, but they had now arrived in the country of the terrible _jaguar_, and it would be necessary to keep up a blazing fire throughout the night.

"Your words were true, love," began Don Pablo. "G.o.d has not forsaken us.

I have seen three things that have inspired me with fresh life and hope.

"First, I looked out upon the Montana, which I expected to see stretching away to the horizon, like a green ocean. I saw this in fact; but, to my surprise, I saw more. I beheld a broad river winding like an immense serpent through the distant forest. It ran in a direction north-east, as far as the eye could reach. Even upon the horizon I could distinguish spots of its bright water glancing like silver under the rays of the setting sun. My heart leaped with joy, for I recognised a river whose existence has been doubted. It can be no other, thought I, than the _Madre de Dios_. I have often heard that there existed such a river in these parts, that runs on to the Amazon. A missionary is said to have visited it, but with the destruction of the missions the record has been lost. I have no doubt the river I have seen is the _Madre de Dios_ of that missionary."

The thought of being so near the banks of this river suggested other thoughts. At once a design entered into my mind. "We can build a raft,"

thought I, "launch it upon this n.o.ble river, and float down to the Amazon, and thence to the mouth of the great stream itself. There is a Portuguese settlement there--the town of Grand Para. There we shall be safe from our foes."

Such were my first thoughts on beholding the new river. I reflected further. "Our fortune is gone," I reflected; "we have nothing in the wide world--what should we do at Para, even if we arrived there in safety? How could we attempt such a journey without provisions. It would be impossible."

My hopes fell as quickly as they had sprung up.

"I noticed your countenance change as you sat upon the tree."

"True, you might easily have done so: the prospect of reaching Para, penniless, and becoming a beggar in the streets--the nearer prospect of starving in the wilderness of the Amazon--were before my mind."

My eyes for awhile were bent mechanically upon the green ocean of tree-tops. All at once an object arrested them. It was a patch of bright rose-coloured foliage, easily distinguishable amid the green leaves that surrounded it. It was not down in the Montana--for that is a thousand feet below us. It was upon the side of the Sierra. My eyes glanced quickly around. I beheld other patches of similar foliage, some of them nearly an acre in breadth. My heart again leaped with joy. I knew well what these red spots of the forest were. They were clumps of _cinchona_ trees--those trees that yield the celebrated febrifuge--the Peruvian bark!

New ideas pa.s.sed rapidly through my mind. "Our fortune is gone," thought I. "Here is a fortune in these valuable trees. Here is a mine that only requires to be worked. I shall turn _cascarillero_--I shall be a _bark-hunter_."