killed every arara, old as well as young, in that accursed tree, or
chased the last of them out of it.  Follow, and I'll show you how."

The Indian turned his face towards the thicket of tree-tops forming one
side of the water arcade, and with a stroke or two brought himself
within reach of some hanging parasites, and climbed up, bidding Richard
follow.  Once more they were shut in among the tops of what appeared to
be a gigantic mimosa.  "It will do," muttered the Mundurucu drawing his
knife and cutting a stout branch, which he soon converted into a cudgel
of about two feet in length.  This he handed to his companion, and then,
selecting a second branch of still stouter proportions, fashioned a
similar club for himself.

"Now," said he, after having pruned the sticks to his satisfaction,
"we're both armed, and ready to give battle to the araras, with a better
chance of coming off victorious.  Let us lose no time.  We have other
work to occupy us, and your friends will be impatient for our return."
Saying this, he let himself down into the water, and turned towards the
seringa.  His _protege_ made no protest, but followed instantly after.
Tightly clutching their cudgels, both reascended the seringa, and
renewed the battle with the birds.  The numbers were even more unequal
than before; but this time the advantage was on the side of the
intruders.

Striking with their clubs of heavy acacia-wood, the birds fell at every
blow, until not one arara fluttered among the foliage.  Most of these
had fallen wounded upon the water; a few only, seeing certain
destruction before them, took flight into the far recesses of the
flooded forest.  The Mundurucu, true to his promise, did not leave a
living bird upon the tree.

One after another, he hauled the half-fledged chicks from their nests;
one after another, twisted their necks; and then, tying their legs
together with a sipo, he separated the bunch into two equally-balanced
parts, hanging it over a limb of the tree.  "They can stay there till ee
come back, which will be soon.  And now let us accomplish the purpose
for which we came here!"  Laying aside the club that had made such havoc
among the macaws, he drew the knife from his girdle.  Selecting a spot
on one of the larger limbs of the seringa, he made an incision in the
bark, from which the milky juice immediately flowed.

He had made provision against any loss of the precious fluid in the
shape of a pair of huge monkey-pots, taken from a sapucaya while on the
way, and which had been all the while lying in their place of deposit in
a network of parasites.  One of these he gave Richard, to hold under the
tap while he made a second incision upon a longer limb of the seringa.
Both nutshells were quickly filled with the glutinous juice, which soon
began to thicken and coagulate like rich cream.  The lids were restored
to their places, and tied on with sipos, and then a large quantity of
this natural cordage was collected and made up into a portable shape.
This accomplished, the Mundurucu signified his intention of returning to
the castaways; and, after apportioning part of the spoil to his
companion, set out on the way they had come.  The young Paraense swam
close in his wake, and in ten minutes they had re-traversed the igarape,
and saw before them the bright sun gilding the Gapo at its embouchure,
that appeared like the mouth of some subterraneous cavern.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

CHASED BY A JACARe.

A few more strokes would have carried the swimmers clear of the water
arcade.  Richard was already congratulating himself on the prospect of
escaping from the gloomy shadow, when all at once his companion started,
raised his head high above the surface, and gazed backward along the
dark arcade.  As he did so, an exclamation escaped him, which only could
be one of alarm.  "A monster!" cried the Mundurucu.

"A monster!  What sort? where?"

"Yonder,--just by the edge of the igarape,--close in to the trees,--his
body half hid under the hanging branches."

"I see something like the trunk of a dead tree, afloat upon the water.
A monster you say, Munday?  What do you make it out to be?"

"The body of a big reptile,--big enough to swallow us both.  It's the
_Jacare-uassu_.  I heard its plunge.  Did not you?"

"I heard nothing like a plunge, except that made by ourselves in
swimming."

"No matter.  There was such a noise but a moment ago.  See! the monster
is again in motion.  He is after us!"

The dark body Richard had taken for the drifting trunk of a tree was now
in motion, and evidently making direct for himself and his companion.
The waves, undulating horizontally behind it, proclaimed the strokes of
its strong, vertically flattened tail, by which it was propelled through
the water.

"The jacare-uassu!" once more exclaimed the Mundurucu, signifying that
the reptile was the great alligator of the Amazon.

It was one of the largest size, its body showing full seven yards above
the water, while its projecting jaws, occasionally opened in menace or
for breath, appeared of sufficient extent to swallow either of the
swimmers.

It was idle for them to think of escaping through the water.  At ease as
they both were in this element, they would have proved but clumsy
competitors with a cayman, especially one of such strength and natatory
skill as belong to the huge reptile in pursuit of them.  Such a
swimming-match was not to be thought of, and neither entertained the
idea of it.

"We must take to the trees!" cried the Indian, convinced that the
alligator was after them.  "The Great Spirit is good to make them grow
so near.  It's the only chance we have for saving our lives.  To the
trees, young master,--to the trees!"

As he spoke, the Mundurucu faced towards the forest; and, with quick,
energetic strokes, they glided under the hanging branches.  Most nimbly
they climbed the nearest, and, once lodged upon a limb, were safe; and
on one of the lowest they "squatted," to await the approach of the
jacare.  In about three seconds the huge saurian came up, pausing as it
approached the spot where the two intended victims had ascended out of
its reach.  It seemed more than surprised,--in fact, supremely
astonished; and for some moments lay tranquil, as if paralysed by its
disappointment.  This quietude, however, was of short duration; for soon
after, as if conscious of having been tricked, it commenced quartering
the water in short diagonal lines, which every instant was lashed into
foam by a stroke of its powerful tail.

"Let us be grateful to the Great Spirit!" said the Indian, looking down
from his perch upon the tree.  "We may well thank him for affording us a
safe refuge here.  It's the jacare-uassu, as I said.  The monster is
hungry, because it's the time of flood, and he can't get food so easily.
The fish upon which he feeds are scattered through the Gapo, and he can
only catch them by a rare chance.  Besides, he has tasted our blood.
Did you not see him sup at it as he came up the igarape?  He's mad now,
and won't be satisfied till he obtains a victim,--a man if he can, for I
can tell by his looks he's a man-eater."

"A man-eater!  What mean you by that?"

"Only that this jacare has eaten men, or women as likely."

"But how can you tell that?"

"Thus, young master.  His bigness tells me of his great age.  He has
lived long, and in his time visited many places.  But what makes me
suspect him to be a man-eater is the eagerness with which he pursued us,
and the disappointment he shows at not getting hold of us.  Look at him
now!"

Certainly there was something peculiar both in the appearance and
movements of the jacare.  Young Trevannion had never seen such a monster
before, though alligators were plenteous around Para, and were no rare
sight to him.  This one, however, was larger than any he had ever seen,
more gaunt or skeleton-like in frame, with a more disgusting leer in its
deep-sunken eyes, and altogether more unearthly in its aspect.  The
sight of the hidden saurian went far to convince him that there was some
truth in the stories of which he had hitherto been sceptical.  After
all, the Gapo might contain creatures fairly entitled to the appellation
of "monsters."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A SAURIAN DIGRESSION.

It would be difficult to conceive a more hideous monster than this upon
which Richard Trevannion and his comrade gazed.  In fact, there is no
form in nature--scarce even in the imagination--more unpleasing to the
eye than that of the lizard, the serpent's shape not excepted.  The
sight of the latter may produce a sensation disagreeable and akin to
fear; but the curving and graceful configuration, either at rest or in
motion, and the smooth, shining skin, often brilliantly coloured in
beautiful patterns, tend to prevent it from approaching the bounds of
horror.  With the saurian shape it is different.  In it we behold the
type of the horrible, without anything to relieve the unpleasant
impression.  The positive, though distant, resemblance to the human form
itself, instead of making the creature more seemly, only intensities the
feeling of dread with which we behold it.  The most beautiful colouring
of the skin, and the gentlest habits, are alike inefficacious to remove
that feeling.  You may look upon the tree-lizard, clothed in a livery of
the most vivid green; the _Anolidae_, in the bright blue of turquoise,
in lemon and orange; you may gaze on the chameleon when it assumes its
most brilliant hues,--but not without an instinctive sense of
repugnance.  True, there are those who deny this, who profess not to
feel it, and who can fondle such pets in their hands, or permit them to
play around their necks and over their bosoms.  This, however, is due to
habit, and long, familiar acquaintance.

Since this is so with the smaller species of the lizard tribe, even with
those of gay hues and harmless habits, what must it be with those huge
saurians that constitute the family of the _Crocodilidae_, all of which,
in form, colour, habits, and character, approach the very extreme of
hideousness.  Of these gigantic reptiles there is a far greater variety
of species than is generally believed,--greater than is known even to
naturalists.  Until lately, some three or four distinct kinds,
inhabiting Asia, Africa, and America, were all that were supposed to
exist.  Recent exploration reveals a very different condition, and has
added many new members to the family of the _Crocodilidae_.

It would be safe to hazard a conjecture, that, when the world of nature
becomes better known, the number of species of these ugly amphibia,
under the various names of gavials, crocodiles, caymans, and alligators,
all brothers or first-cousins, will amount to two score.  It is the very
close resemblance in appearance and general habits that has hitherto
hindered these different kinds from being distinguished.  Their species
are many; and, if you follow the naturalists of the anatomic school, so
too are the genera; for it pleases these sapient theorists to found a
genus on almost any species,--thus confounding and rendering more
difficult the study it is their design to simplify.  In the case of the
_Crocodilidae_ such subdivision is absolutely absurd; and a single
genus--certainly two at the most--would suffice for all purposes,
practical or theoretical.  The habits of the whole family--gavials and
alligators, crocodiles, caymans, and jacares--are so much alike, that it
seems a cruelty to separate them.  It is true the different species
attain to very different sizes; some, as the _curua_, are scarce two
feet in length, while the big brothers of the family, among the gavials,
crocodiles, and alligators, are often ten times as long.

It is impossible to say how many species of _Crocodilidae_ inhabit the
waters of the South American continent.  There are three in the Amazon
alone; but it is quite probable that in some of its more remote
tributaries there exist other distinct species, since the three above
mentioned do not all dwell in the same portion of this mighty stream.
The Amazonian Indians speak of many more species, and believe in their
existence.  No doubt the Indians are right.

In the other systems of South American waters, as those of the La Plata,
the Orinoco, and the Magdalena, species exist that are not known to the
Amazon.  Even in the isolated water deposits of Lake Valencia Humboldt
discovered the bava, a curious little crocodile not noted elsewhere.
The three Amazonian reptiles, though having a strong resemblance in
general aspect, are quite distinct as regards the species.  In the
curious and useful dialect of that region, understood alike by Indians
and Portuguese, they are all called "Jacares," though they are
specifically distinguished as the _Jacare-uassu_ the _Jacare-tinga_, and
the _Jacare-curua_.  Of the first kind was that which had pursued the
two swimmers, and it was one of the largest of its species, full
twenty-five feet from the point of its bony snout to the tip of its
serrated tail.  No wonder they got out of its way!

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

TREED BY AN ALLIGATOR.

For a time the two refugees were without fear or care.  They knew they
were out of reach, and, so long as they kept to their perch, were in no
danger.  Had it been a jaguar instead of a jacare, it would have been
another thing; but the amphibious animal could not crawl up the trunk of
a tree, nor yet ascend by the hanging limbs or llianas.  Their only
feeling was that of chagrin at being stopped on their way back to their
companions in the sapucaya, knowing that their return would be
impatiently expected.  They could by shouting have made themselves
heard, but not with sufficient distinctness to be understood.  The
matted tree-tops intervening would have prevented this.  They thought it
better to be silent, lest their shouts might cause alarm.  Richard hoped
that the alligator would soon glide back to the haunt whence it had
sallied, and leave them at liberty to continue their journey, but the
Mundurucu was not so sanguine.

There was something in the behaviour of the jacare he did not like,
especially when he saw it quartering the water as if in search of the
creatures that had disappeared so mysteriously.

"Surely it won't lie in wait for us?" was the first question put by his
companion.  "You don't think it will?"

"I do, young master, I do.  That is just what troubles the Mundurucu.
He may keep us here for hours,--perhaps till the sun goes down."

"That would be anything but pleasant,--perhaps more so to those who are
waiting for us than to ourselves.  What can we do?"

"Nothing at present.  We must have patience, master."

"For my part, I shall try," replied the Paraense; "but it's very
provoking to be besieged in this fashion,--separated by only a few
hundred yards from one's friends, and yet unable to rejoin or
communicate with them."

"Ah!  I wish the _Curupira_ had him.  I fear the brute is going to prove
troublesome.  The Mundurucu can read evil in his eye.  Look! he has come
to a stand.  He sees us!  No knowing now when he will grow tired of our
company."

"But has it sense enough for that?"

"Sense!  Ah! cunning, master may call it, when he talks of the jacare.
Surely, young master, you know that,--you who are a Paraense born and
bred?  You must know that these reptiles will lie in wait for a whole
week by a bathing-place, watching for a victim,--some helpless child, or
even a grown man, who has been drinking too much _cashaca_.  Ah yes!
many's the man the jacare has closed his deadly jaws upon."

"Well, I hope this one won't have that opportunity with us.  We mustn't
give it."

"Not if we can help it," rejoined the Indian.  "But we must be quiet,
young master, if we expect to get out of this fix in any reasonable
time.  The jacare has sharp ears, small though they look.  He can hear
every word we are saying; ay, and if one were to judge by the leer in
his ugly eye, he understands us."

"At all events, it appears to be listening."

So the conversation sank to silence, broken only by an occasional
whisper, and no gesture even made communication, for they saw the
leering look of the reptile fixed steadily upon them.  Almost two hours
passed in this tantalising and irksome fashion.

The sun had now crossed the meridian line, and was declining westward.
The jacare had not stirred from the spot.  It lay like a log upon the
water, its lurid eyes alone proclaiming its animation.  For more than an
hour it had made no visible movement, and their situation was becoming
insupportable.

"But what can we do?" asked Richard, despairingly.

"We must try to travel through the tree-tops, and get to the other side.
If we can steal out of his sight and hearing, all will be well.  The
Mundurucu is angry with himself; he didn't think of this before.  He was
fool enough to hope the jacare would get tired first.  He might have
known better, since the beast has tasted blood.  That or hunger makes
him such a stanch sentinel.  Come, young master!" added the Indian,
rising from his seat, and laying hold of a branch.  "We must make a
journey through the tree-tops.  Not a word,--not a broken bough if you
can help it.  Keep close after me; watch what I do, and do you exactly
the same."

"All right, Munday," muttered the Paraense.  "Lead on, old boy!  I'll do
my best to follow you."

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

AN AQUA-ARBOREAL JOURNEY.

It may appear strange, incredible, absurd, that such a journey, for
however short a distance, should have been attempted by human beings.
No doubt to many it _will_ appear so, and be set down as ludicrously
improbable.  Twenty minutes passed in the shadowy gloom of a South
American forest would strip the idea of travelling among the tree-tops
of much of its improbability.  In many places such a feat is quite
possible, and comparatively easy,--perhaps not so "easy as rolling off a
log," but almost as much so as climbing to the top of one.  In the great
_montana_ of the Amazon there are stretches of forest, miles in extent,
where the trees are so matted and interlaced as to form one continuous
"arbour," each united to its immediate neighbours by natural stays and
cables, to which the meshes formed by the rigging of a ship are as an
open network in comparison.  In the midst of this magnificent luxuriance
of vegetable life, there are birds, beasts, and insects that never set
foot upon the ground;--birds in a vast variety of genera and species;
beasts--I mean quadrupeds--of many different kinds; insects of countless
orders; quadrumana that never touched _terra firma_ with any of their
four hands; and, I had almost added, _man_.  He, too, if not exclusively
confining himself to the tops of these forest-trees, may make them
habitually his home, as shall be seen in the sequel.

It was no great feat, then, for the Mundurucu and his acolyte to make a
short excursion across the "spray" of the forest, since this is the very
timber that is so tied together.  There was even less of danger than in
a tract of woods growing upon the highlands or "Campos."  A fall into
the Gapo could only entail a ducking, with a brief interruption of the
journey.

It does not follow that their progress must be either swift or direct.
That would depend upon the character of the trees and their parasites,--
whether the former grew close together, and whether the latter were
numerous and luxuriant, or of scanty growth.  To all appearance, Nature
in that spot had been beneficent, and poured forth her vegetable
treasures profusely.

The Indian, glancing through the branches, believed there would be no
more difficulty in getting to the other side of the belt of timber that
separated them from the open water, than in traversing a thicket of
similar extent.  With this confidence he set forth, followed by his less
experienced companion.  Both began and continued their monkey-like march
in the most profound silence.

They knew that it was possible and easy for the alligator to bear them
company; for although they were forced to pass through an almost
impervious thicket, down on the water it was altogether different.
There was nothing to impede the progress of the saurian, huge as it was,
except the trunks of the trees.

To tell the truth, it was a toilsome trip, and both the travellers were
weary of it long before coming within sight of the open water on the
opposite side.  Often were they compelled to carry their own weight on
the strength of their arms, by hoisting themselves from tree to tree.
Many a _detour_ had they to make, sometimes on account of the
impenetrable network of creepers, and sometimes because of open water,
that, in pools, interrupted their route.

The distance to be traversed was not over two hundred yards.  At
starting they knew not how far, but it proved about this measure.  If
they had made their calculation according to time, they might have
estimated it at half a score of miles.  They were a good hour and a half
on the journey; but the delay, with all its kindred regrets, was
forgotten, when they saw the open water before them, and soon after
found themselves on the selvage of the submerged forest.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A TIMELY WARNING.

On arriving among the outside frees, our explorers, homeward bound, saw
something to cheer them,--something besides the bright sun and the
shining waters of the Gapo.  It was the sapucaya, still bearing its
stupendous fruit, the friends they had left behind them.  The Paraense
appeared to be counting them, as if to make sure that all were still
safe upon the tree.  Perhaps he was only intent on the discovery of one,
or, having discovered, was feeding his eyes upon her form, slender and
graceful in the distance.  He would have shouted to apprise them of the
safety of himself and companion, had not a sign from the latter,
accompanied by a few muttered words, counselled him to hold his peace.

"Why not, Munday?"

"Not a word, young master.  We are not yet out of the woods; the jacare
may hear us."

"We left it far behind in the igarape."

"Ah, true!  Who knows where he may be now?  Not the Mundurucu.  The
monster may have followed us.  Who knows?  He may be at this moment
within twenty yards, waiting for us to come back into the water."

As he spoke, the Indian looked anxiously behind him.  He could discover
no cause of alarm.  All was still under the shadow of the trees.  Not
even a ripple could be seen upon the sombre surface of the water.

"I think we've given it the slip," remarked Richard.

"It looks so," responded the Indian.  "The Mundurucu hears no sound,
sees no sign.  The jacare should still be in the igarape."

"Why should we delay any longer?  Several hours have elapsed since we
left the sapucaya.  My uncle and everybody else will be out of all
patience.  They will be distracted with sheer anxiety.  They look as if
they were.  Though we have a good view of them, I don't suppose they see
us.  If they did, they would be hailing us, that's certain.  Let us take
to the water, and rejoin them."

The Mundurucu, after looking once more to the rear, and listening for a
few moments, replied, "I think we may venture."

This was the cue for young Trevannion, and, lowering himself from the
limb on which he was supported, the two almost at the same instant
committed themselves to the flood.  Scarce had they touched the water
when their ears were assailed by a shout that came pealing across the
Gapo.  It neither startled nor surprised them, for they could not fail
to comprehend its meaning.  It was a cheer sent forth from the sapucaya,
announcing their reappearance to the eyes of their anxious companions.
Stimulated by the joyous tones, the two swimmers struck boldly out into
the open water.

Richard no longer thought of looking behind him.  In a hasty glance
directed towards the sapucaya, as he rose after his first plunge upon
the water, he had seen something to lure him on, at the same time
absorbing all his reflections.  He had seen a young girl, standing erect
within the fork of the tree, throw up her arms as if actuated by some
sudden transport of joy.  What could have caused it but the sight of
him?

The mind of the Mundurucu was far differently employed.  His thoughts
were retrospective, not prospective.  So, too, were his glances.
Instead of looking forward to inquire what was going on among the
branches of the sapucaya, he carried his beardless chin upon his
shoulder, keeping his eyes and ears keenly intent to any sight or sound
that might appear suspicious behind him.  His caution, as was soon
proved, was neither unnatural nor superfluous, nor yet the counsel given
to his companion to swim as if some swift and terrible pursuer were
after him; for although the Indian spoke from mere conjecture, his words
were but too true.

The swimmers had traversed about half the space of open water that lay
between the sapucaya and the submerged forest.  The Indian had purposely
permitted himself to fall into the wake of his companion, in order that
his backward view might be unobstructed.  So far, no alligator showed
itself behind them, no enemy of any kind; and in proportion as his
confidence increased, he relaxed his vigilance.  It seemed certain the
jacare had given up the chase.  It could not have marked their movements
among the tree-tops, and in all likelihood the monster was still keeping
guard near the opening of the igarape.  Too happy to arrive at this
conclusion, the Indian ceased to think of a pursuit, and, after making
an effort, overtook the young Paraense, the two continuing to swim
abreast.  As there no longer appeared any reason for extraordinary
speed, the swimmers simultaneously suspended the violent exertions they
had been hitherto making, and with relaxed stroke kept on towards the
sapucaya.

It was fortunate for both that other eyes than their own were turned
upon that stretch of open water.  Had it not been so, the silent
swimmer, far swifter than they, coming rapidly up in their rear, might
have overtaken them long before reaching the tree.  The shout sent forth
from the sapucaya, in which every voice bore a part, warned them of some
dread danger threatening near.  But for late experience, they might not
have known on which side to look for it; but, guided by this, they
instinctively looked back.  The jacare, close behind, was coming on as
fast as his powerful tail, rapidly oscillating from side to side, could
propel him.  It was fortunate for the two swimmers they had heard that
warning cry in time.  A score of seconds made all the difference in
their favour, all the difference between life and death.  It was their
destiny to live, and not die then in the jaws of the jacare.  Before the
ugly reptile, making all the speed in its power, could come up with
either of them, both, assisted by willing hands, had climbed beyond its
reach, and could look upon it without fear from among the branches of
the sapucaya.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

IMPROVISED SWIMMING-BELTS.

The huge saurian swam on to the tree,--to the very spot where Richard
and the Mundurucu had climbed up, at the forking of the stem.  On
perceiving that its prey had for a second time got clear, its fury
seemed to break all bounds.  It lashed the water with its tail, closed
its jaws, with a loud clattering, and gave utterance to a series of
sounds, that could only be compared to a cross between the bellowing of
a bull and the grunting of a hog.

Out in the open light of the sun, and swimming conspicuously upon the
surface of the water, a good view of the reptile could now be obtained;
but this did not improve the opinion of it already formed by Richard.
It looked, if possible, uglier than when seen in shadow; for in the
light the fixed leer of its lurid eye, and the ghastly blood-coloured
inside of the jaws, at intervals opened, and showing a triple row of
terrible teeth, were more conspicuous and disgusting.  Its immense bulk
made it still more formidable to look upon.  Its body was full eight
yards in length, and of proportionate thickness,--measuring around the
middle not less than a fathom and a half; while the lozenge-like
protuberances along its spine rose in pointed pyramids to the height of
several inches.

No wonder that little Rosa uttered a shriek of terror on first beholding
it; no wonder that brave young Ralph trembled at the sight.  Even
Trevannion himself, with the negro and Tipperary Tom, regarded the
reptile with fear.  It was some time before they felt sure that it could
not crawl up to them.  It seemed for a time as if it meant to do so,
rubbing its bony snout against the bark, and endeavouring to clasp the
trunk with its short human-like arms.  After several efforts to ascend,
it apparently became satisfied that this feat was not to be performed,
and reluctantly gave up the attempt; then, retreating a short distance,
began swimming in irregular circles around the tree, all the while
keeping its eye fixed upon the branches.

After a time, the castaways only bent their gaze upon the monster at
intervals, when some new manoeuvre attracted their notice.  There was no
immediate danger to be dreaded from it; and although its proximity was
anything but pleasant, there were other thoughts equally disagreeable,
and more important, to occupy their time and attention.  They could not
remain all their lives in the sapucaya; and although they knew not what
fortune awaited them in the forest, beyond, they were all anxious to get
there.

Whether it was altogether a flooded forest, or whether there might not
be some dry land in it, no one could tell.  In the Mundurucu's opinion
it was the former: and in the face of this belief, there was not much
hope of their finding a foot of dry land.  In any case, the forest must
be reached, and all were anxious to quit their quarters on the sapucaya,
under the belief that they would find others more comfortable.  At all
events, a change could not well be for the worse.

Munday had promised them the means of transport, but how this was to be
provided none of them as yet knew.  The time, however, had arrived for
him to declare his intentions, and this he proceeded to do; not in
words, but by deeds that soon made manifest his design.

It will be remembered that, after killing the macaws, he had tapped the
seringa, and "drawn" two cups full of the sap,--that he had bottled it
up in the pots, carefully closing the lids against leakage.  It will
also be remembered, that he had provided himself with a quantity of
creepers, which he had folded into a portable bundle.  These were of a
peculiar sort,--the true sipos of the South American forest, which serve
for all purposes of cordage, ropes ready made by the hand of Nature.  On
parting from the seringa, he had brought these articles along with him,
his companion carrying a share of the load.  Though chased by the
jacare, and close run too, neither had abandoned his bundle,--tied by
sipos around the neck,--and both the bottled caoutchouc and the cordage
were now in the sapucaya.  What they were intended for no one could
guess, until it pleased the Indian to reveal his secret; and this he at
length did, by collecting a large number of nuts from the sapucaya,--
Ralph and Richard acting as his aides,--emptying them of their
three-cornered kernels, restoring the lids, and then making them
"water-proof" by a coating of the caoutchouc.

Soon all became acquainted with his plans, when they saw him bind the
hollow shells into bunches, three or four in each, held together by
sipos, and then with a stronger piece of the same parasite attach the
bunches two and two together, leaving about three feet of the twisted
sipos between.

"Swimming-belts!" cried Ralph, now for the first time comprehending the
scheme.  Ralph was right.  That was just what the Mundurucu had
manufactured,--a set of _swimming-belts_.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

ALLIGATOR LORE.

For an hour the castaways remained in the tree, chafing with impatience
and chagrin that their awful enemy still kept his savage watch for them
in the Gapo below, gliding lazily to and fro, but ever watching them
with eager, evil eye.  But there was no help for it; and by way of
possessing their souls in more patience, and making time pass quicker,
they fell to conversing on a subject appropriate to the occasion, for it
was the jacare itself, or rather alligators in general.  Most of the
questions were put by Trevannion, while the answers were given by the
Mundurucu, whose memory, age, and experience made him a comprehensive
cyclopaedia of alligator lore.

The Indian, according to his own account, was acquainted with live or
six different kinds of jacare.  They were not all found in one place,
though he knew parts of the country where two or three kinds might be
found dwelling in the same waters; as, for instance, the jacare-uassu
(great alligator), the same as was then besieging them, and which is
sometimes called the black jacare, might often be seen in the same pool
with the jacare-tinga, or little alligator.  Little jacare was not an
appropriate name for this last species.  It was four feet long when full
grown, and he knew of others, as the jacare-curua, that never grew above
two.  These kinds frequented small creeks, and were less known than the
others, as it was only in certain places they were found.  The jacares
were most abundant in the dry season.  He did not suppose they were
really more numerous, only that they were then collected together in the
permanent lakes and pools.  Besides, the rivers were then lower, and as
there was less surface for them to spread over, they were more likely to
be seen.  As soon as the _echente_ commenced, they forsook the channels
of the rivers, as also the standing lakes, and wandered all over the
Gapo.  As there was then a thousand times the quantity of water, of
course the creatures were more scattered, and less likely to be
encountered.  In the _vasante_ he had seen half-dried lakes swarming
with jacares, as many as there would be tadpoles in a frog-pond.  At
such times he had seen them crowded together, and had heard their scales
rattling, as they jostled one another, at the distance of half a mile or
more.  In the countries on the lower part of the Solimoes, where many of
the inland lakes become dry during the _vasante_, many jacares at that
season buried themselves in the mud, and went to sleep.  They remained
asleep, encased in dry, solid earth, till the flood once more softened
the mud around them, when they came out again as ugly as ever.  He
didn't think that they followed this fashion everywhere; only where the
lakes in which they chanced to be became dry, and they found their
retreat to the river cut off.  They made their nests on dry land,
covering the eggs over with a great conical pile of rotten leaves and
mud.

The eggs of the jacare-uassu were as large as cocoa-nuts, and of an oval
shape.  They had a thick, rough shell, which made a loud noise when
rubbed against any hard substance.  If the female were near the nest,
and you wished to find her, you had only to rub two of the eggs
together, and she would come waddling towards you the moment she heard
the noise.  They fed mostly on fish, but that was because fish was
plentiest, and most readily obtained.  They would eat flesh or fowl,--
anything that chanced in their way.  Fling them a bone, and they would
swallow it at a gulp, seizing it in their great jaws before it could
reach the water, just as a dog would do.  If a morsel got into their
mouth that wouldn't readily go down, they would pitch it out, and catch
it while in the air, so as to get it between their jaws in a more
convenient manner.

Sometimes they had terrific combats with the jaguars; but these animals
were wary about attacking the larger ones, and only preyed upon the
young of these, or the jacare-tingas.  They themselves made war on every
creature they could catch, and above all on the young turtles, thousands
of which were every year devoured by them.  They even devoured their own
children,--that is, the old males did, whenever the _mai_ (mother) was
not in the way to protect them.  They had an especial preference for
dogs,--that is, as food,--and if they should hear a dog barking in the
forest, they would go a long way over land to get hold of him.  They lie
in wait for fish, sometimes hiding themselves in the weeds and grass
till the latter come near.  They seized them, if convenient, between
their jaws, or killed them with a stroke of the tail, making a great
commotion in the water.  The fish got confused with fright, and didn't
know which way to swim out of the reptile's reach.  Along with their
other food they ate stones, for he had often found stones in their
stomach.  The Indian said it was done that the weight might enable them
to go under the water more easily.

The _Capilearas_ were large animals that furnished many a meal to the
jacares; although the quadrupeds could swim very fast, they were no
match for the alligator, who can make head with rapidity against the
strongest current.  If they could only turn short, they would be far
more dangerous than they are; but their neck was stiff, and it took them
a long while to get round, which was to their enemies' advantage.
Sometimes they made journeys upon land.  Generally they travelled very
slowly, but they could go much faster when attacked, or pursuing their
prey.  Their tail was to be especially dreaded.  With a blow of that
they could knock the breath out of a man's body, or break his leg bone.
They liked to bask in the sun, lying along the sand-banks by the edge of
the river, several of them together, with their tails laid one on the
other.  They would remain motionless for hours, as if asleep, but all
the while with their mouths wide open.  Some said that they did this to
entrap the flies and insects that alighted upon their tongue and teeth,
but he (the Mundurucu) didn't believe it, because no quantity of flies
would fill the stomach of the great jacare.  While lying thus, or even
at rest upon the water, birds often perched upon their backs and
heads,--cranes, ibises, and other kinds.  They even walked about over
their bodies without seeming to disturb them.  In that way the jacares
could not get at them, if they wished it ever so much.

There were some jacares more to be dreaded than others.  These were the
man-eaters, such as had once tasted human flesh.  There were many of
them,--too many,--since not a year passed without several people falling
victims to the voracity of these reptiles.  People were used to seeing
them every day, and grew careless.  The jacares lay in wait in the
bathing-places close to villages and houses, and stole upon the bathers
that had ventured into deep water.  Women, going to fetch water, and
children, were especially subject to their attack.  He had known men,
who had gone into the water in a state of intoxication, killed and
devoured by the jacare, with scores of people looking helplessly on from
the bank, not twenty yards away.  When an event of this kind happened,
the people armed themselves _en masse_, got into their _montarias_
(canoes), gave chase, and usually killed the reptile.  At other times it
was left unmolested for months, and allowed to lie in wait for a victim.

The brute was _muy ladim_ (very cunning).  That was evident enough to
his listeners.  They had only to look down into the water, and watch the
movements of the monster there.  Notwithstanding its ferocity, it was at
bottom a great coward, but it knew well when it was master of the
situation.  The one under the sapucaya believed itself to be in that
position.  It might be mistaken.  If it did not very soon take its
departure, he, the Mundurucu, should make trial of its courage, and then
would be seen who was master.  Big as it was, it would not be so
difficult to subdue for one who knew how.  The jacare was not easily
killed, for it would not die outright till it was cut to pieces.  But it
could be rendered harmless.  Neither bullet nor arrow would penetrate
its body, but there were places where its life could be reached,--the
throat, the eyes, and the hollow places just behind the eyes, in front
of the shoulders.  If stabbed in any of these tender places, it must go
under.  He knew a plan better than that; and if the brute did not soon
raise the siege, he would put it in practice.  He was getting to be an
old man.  Twenty summers ago he would not have put up with such
insolence from an alligator.  He was not decrepit yet.  If the jacare
consulted its own safety, it would do well to look out.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

A HIDE UPON A REPTILE.

After thus concluding his long lecture upon alligators, the Indian grew
restless, and fidgeted from side to side.  It was plain to all, that the
presence of the jacare was provoking him to fast-culminating excitement.
As another hour passed, and the monster showed no signs of retiring,
his excitement grew to auger so intense, as to be no longer withheld
from seeking relief in action.  So the Mundurucu hastily uprose,
flinging aside the swimming-belts hitherto held in his hands.
Everything was put by except his knife, and this, drawn from his
_tanga_, was now held tightly in his grasp.

"What mean you, Munday?" inquired Trevannion, observing with some
anxiety the actions of the Indian.  "Surely you are not going to attack
the monster?  With such a poor weapon you would have no chance, even
supposing you could get within striking distance before being swallowed
up.  Don't think of such a thing!"

"Not with this weapon, patron," replied the Indian, holding up the
knife; "though even with it the Mundurucu would not fear to fight the
jacare, and kill him, too.  Then the brute would go to the bottom of the
Gapo, taking me along.  I don't want a ducking like that, to say nothing
of the chances of being drowned.  I must settle the account on the
surface."

"My brave fellow, don't be imprudent!  It is too great a risk.  Let us
stay here till morning.  Night will bring a change, and the reptile will
go off."

"Patron! the Mundurucu thinks differently.  That jacare is a man-eater,
strayed from some of the villages, perhaps Coary, that we have lately
left.  It has tasted man's blood,--even ours, that of your son, your
own.  It sees men in the tree.  It will not retire till it has gratified
its ravenous desires.  We may stay in this tree till we starve, and from
feebleness drop, one by one, from the branches."

"Let us try it for one night?"

"No, patron," responded the Indian, his eyes kindling with a revengeful
fire, "not for one hour.  The Mundurucu was willing to obey you in what
related to the duty for which you hired him.  He is no longer a
_tapuyo_.  The galatea is lost, the contract is at an end, and now he is
free to do what he may please with his life.  Patron!" continued the old
man, with an energy that resembled returning youth, "my tribe would
spurn me from the _malocca_ if I bore it any longer.  Either I or the
jacare must die!"

Silenced by the singularity of the Indian's sentiment and speech,
Trevannion forbore further opposition.  No one knew exactly what his
purpose was, though his attitude and actions led all to believe that he
meant to attack the jacare.  With his knife?  No.  He had negatived this
question himself.  How then?  There appeared to be no other weapon
within reach.  But there was, and his companions soon saw there was, as
they sat silently watching his movements.  The knife was only used as
the means of procuring that weapon, which soon made its appearance in
the form of a _macana_, or club, cut from one of the llianas,--a
_bauhinia_ of heaviest wood, shaped something after the fashion of a
"life-preserver," with a heavy knob of the creeper forming its head, and
a shank about two feet long, tapering towards the handle.  Armed with
this weapon, and restoring the knife to his _tango_, the Indian came
down and glided out along the horizontal limb already known to our
story.  To attract the reptile thither was not difficult.  His presence
would have been a sufficient lure, but some broken twigs cast upon the
water served to hasten its approach to the spot.  In confidence the
jacare came on, believing that by some imprudence, or misadventure, at
least one of those it had marked for its victims was about to drop into
its hungry maw.  One did drop,--not into its maw, or its jaws, but upon
its back, close up to the swell of its shoulders.  Looking down from the
tree, his companions saw the Mundurucu astride upon the alligator, with
one hand, the left, apparently inserted into the hollow socket of the
reptile's eye, the other raised aloft, grasping the _macana_, that
threatened to descend upon the skull of the jacare.  It _did_ descend,--
crack!--crash!--crackle!  After that there was not much to record.  The
Mundurucu was compelled to slide off his seat.  The huge saurian, with
its fractured skull, yielded to a simple physical law, turned over,
showing its belly of yellowish white,--an aspect not a whit more lovely
than that presented in its dark dorsal posterior.  If not dead, there
could be no doubt that the jacare was no longer dangerous; and as its
conqueror returned to the tree, he was received with a storm of
"_Vivas_" to which Tipperary Tom added his enthusiastic Irish
"Hoor-raa!"

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

TAKING TO THE WATER.

The Mundurucu merited congratulation, and his companions could not
restrain their admiration and wonder.  They knew that the alligator was
only assailable by ordinary weapons--as gun, spear, or harpoon--in three
places; in the throat, unprotected, except by a thin, soft integument;
in the hollow in front of the shoulders, and immediately behind the bony
socket of the eyes; and in the eyes themselves,--the latter being the
most vulnerable of all.  Why had the Indian, armed with a knife, not
chosen one of these three places to inflict a mortal cut or stab?

"Patron," said the Indian, as soon as he had recovered his breath, "you
wonder why the Mundurucu took all that trouble for a _macana_, while he
might have killed the jacare without it.  True, the knife was weapon
enough.  _Pa terra_!  Yes.  But it would not cause instant death.  The
rascal could dive with both eyes scooped out of their sockets, and live
for hours afterwards.  Ay, it could have carried me twenty miles through
the Gapo, half the distance under water.  Where would old Munday have
been then?  Drowned and dead, long before the jacare itself.  Ah,
patron, a good knock on the hollow of its head is the best way to settle
scores with a jacare."

And as if all scores had been now settled with this fellow, the huge
saurian, to all appearance dead, passed unheeded out of sight, the
current of the Gapo drifting it slowly away.  They did not wait for its
total disappearance, and while its hideous body, turned belly upward,
with its human-like hands stiffly thrust above the surface, was yet in
sight, they resumed their preparations for vacating a tenement of which
all were heartily tired, with that hopeful expectancy which springs from
a knowledge that the future cannot be worse than the present.  Richard
had reported many curious trees, some bearing fruits that appeared to be
eatable, strung with llianas, here and there forming a network that made
it easy to find comfort among their branches.  If there had been nothing
else to cheer them, the prospect of escaping from their irksome
attitudes was of itself sufficient; and influenced by this, they eagerly
prepared for departure.

As almost everything had been already arranged for ferrying the party,
very little remained to be done.  From the hermetically closed
monkey-cups the Mundurucu had manufactured five swimming-belts,--this
number being all that was necessary, for he and the young Paraense could
swim ten times the distance without any adventitious aid.  The others
had their share of empty shells meted out according to their weight and
need of help.  Rosa's transport required particular attention.  The
others could make way themselves, but Rosa was to be carried across
under the safe conduct of the Indian.

So when every contingency had been provided for, one after another
slipped down from the fork, and quietly departed from a tree that,
however uncomfortable as a residence, had yet provided them with a
refuge in the hour of danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

A HALF-CHOKED SWIMMER.

Munday led off, towing little Rosa after him by a sipo, one end fastened
to his girdle, and the other around her waist.  Trevannion followed
close behind, Ralph a little farther off, with Richard keeping abreast
of his cousin and helping him along.  Mozey swam next; Tipperary Tom,
who was last to leave the tree, brought up the rear.  The ouistiti had
found a berth on the shoulders of young Ralph, who, buoyed up by a good
supply of air-vessels, swam with his back above water.  As for the macaw
and coaita, the desperate circumstances in which our adventurers were
placed rendered it not only inconvenient, but out of the question, to
trouble themselves with such pets; and it had been agreed that they must
be abandoned.  Both, therefore, were left upon the tree.  With the macaw
it was a matter of choice whether it should stay there.  By simply
spreading out its great hyacinthine wings it could keep pace with its
_ci-devant_ protectors; and they had hardly left the tree, when the
bird, giving a loud scream, sprang from its perch, hovered a moment in
the air, and then, flying down, alighted on Mozey's wool-covered
cranium, making him hide his astonished head quickly under water.  The
arara, affrighted at having wetted its feet, instantly essayed to soar
up again; but its curving talons, that had clutched too eagerly in the
descent, had become fixed, and all its attempts to detach them were in
vain.  The more it struggled, the tighter became the tangle; while its
screams, united with the cries of the negro, pealed over the water,
awaking far echoes in the forest.  It was sometime before Mozey
succeeded in untwisting the snarl that the arara had spun around its
legs, and not until he had sacrificed several of his curls was the bird
free to trust once more to its wings.

We have said, that by some mystic influence the big monkey had become
attached to Tipperary Tom, and the attachment was mutual.  Tom had not
taken his departure from the tree without casting more than one look of
regret back among the branches, and under any other circumstances he
would not have left the coaita behind him.  It was only in obedience to
the inexorable law of self-preservation that he had consented to the
sacrifice.  The monkey had shown equal reluctance at parting, in looks,
cries, and gestures.  It had followed its friend down to the fork, and
after he had slipped into the water it appeared as if it would follow
him, regardless of both instinct and experience, for it could not swim.
These, however, proved strong enough to restrain its imprudence, and
after its protector had gone it stood trembling and chattering in
accents that proclaimed the agony of that unexpected separation.  Any
one listening attentively to its cries might have detected in the
piteous tones the slightest commingling of reproach.  How could it be
otherwise to be thus deserted?  Left to perish, in fact; for although
the coaita was perfectly at home upon the sapucaya, and could live there
as long as the nuts lasted, there was not the slightest chance of its
getting away from the tree.  It must stay there till the _vasante_, till
the flood fell, and that would not be for months.  Long before that it
must undoubtedly perish, either by drowning or starvation.

Whether or not these unpleasant forebodings passed through the monkey's
wits, and whether they nerved it, may never be known.  Certainly
something seemed to stimulate the creature to determination; for instead
of standing any longer shivering in the fork of the tree, it turned
suddenly, and, darting up the trunk, ran out upon one of the horizontal
branches.  To go directly from the sapucaya to the forest, it was
necessary to pass under this limb; and Tipperary Tom, following in the
wake of the others, had taken this track.  He was already far out from
the stem of the tree, almost clear of the overhanging branches, and half
oblivions of the painful parting, when a heavy body, pouncing upon his
shoulders, caused both him and his empty shells to sink some feet under
the water; for just like old Munday on the alligator had the monkey come
down upon Tipperary Tom.  The affrighted Irishman, on rising to the
surface, sputtered forth a series of cries, at the same time
endeavouring to rid himself of the unexpected rider on his back.  It was
just at this crisis, too, that the macaw had managed to make good its
footing in the fleece of the negro.  Mozey, however, was the first to
get clear of his incubus; and then all eyes were directed towards
Tipperary Tom and the clinging coaita, while peals of laughter resounded
from every lip.

Mozey had enfranchised himself by sacrificing a few tufts of his woolly
hair, but the task was not so easy for Tom.  In fact, it proved
altogether impracticable; for the coaita had curled its prehensile tail
around his neck in a knot that would have made a hangman envious.  The
more he tugged at it, the more it tightened; and had the Irishman been
left to himself, it would have no doubt ended in his being strangled
outright, a fate he began to dread.  At this crisis he heard the
Mundurucu shout to him across the water to leave the coaita alone, as
then it would relax its hold.  Fortunately for himself, Tom had the
prudence to obey this well-timed counsel; and although still half
suffocated by the too cordial embrace of his pet, he permitted it to
have its own way, until, having approached the forest, the monkey
relaxed its hold, and sprang up among the branches.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A SUPPER OF BROILED SQUAB.

Guided by the Mundurucu, the swimmers entered the water arcade before
described, and proceeded on to the tree that had furnished the
caoutchouc for their swimming-belts.  The siphonia, so late the scene of
strife and querulous complainings, was now silent as the tomb; not a
living arara was in sight or within hearing.  The few old birds that had
survived the club conflict had forsaken the spot, betaking themselves to
some distant part of the forest, perhaps out of the Gapo altogether, to
mourn over nests laid desolate, over chicks seized and instantly
destroyed by ruthless hands.  Only the young were there, suspended in a
bunch from the branches.  The Mundurucu mounted first, taking his charge
along with him; and then all the others climbed up into the tree, where
the macaw and the monkey--one upon wing, the other by a passage through
the tree-tops in speed almost equalling the flight of a bird--had
already arrived.

Farther progress for that night was no part of their purpose.  It would
have been as idle as imprudent.  The sun was already level with their
gaze, and to have forsaken their perch at that hour would have been like
leaving a good inn for the doubtful chances of the road.  The seringa,
with its thickly trellised limbs, offered snug quarters.  Upon its
network of parasites it was possible to repose; there were hammocks
woven by the hand of Nature, and, rude as they might be, they were a
pleasant improvement on their couches of the preceding night.

The tree contained other proofs of its hospitality.  The fat fledglings
suspended upon it promised a supper not to be despised; for none of the
party was a stranger to macaw flesh, and, as those were young and
tender, eyes sparkled and mouths watered on beholding them.  No one
expected that they were to be eaten raw, though there was more than one
in the party whose appetite had become sharp enough for this.  The
Mundurucu would have shown but slight squeamishness at swallowing one of
the squabs as it was, while to Mozey it would have signified less.  Even
Tipperary Tom declared his readiness to set about supping without
further preparation.

The semi-cannibal appetites of his companions were controlled by
Trevannion, who commenced talking of a fire.  How was it to be made?
How could the chicks be cooked?  His questions did not remain long
unanswered.  The Indian, eager to meet the wishes of his employer,
promised that they should be gratified.

"Wait a bit, patron," said he.  "In ten minutes' time you shall have
what you want, a fire; in twenty, roast arara."

"But how?" asked the patron.  "We have no flint nor steel, any of us;
and if we had, where find the tinder?"

"Yonder!" rejoined the Mundurucu.  "You see yonder tree on the other
side of the igarape?"

"That standing out by itself, with smooth, shining bark, and hoary,
handlike leaves?  Yes, I see it.  What of it?"

"It is the _embauba_, patron; the tree that feeds the lazy sloth, the
_Ai_."

"O, then it is that known as the _Cecropia peltata_.  True, its crown of
peltate leaves declares the species.  But we were talking of fire,
Munday.  Can you obtain it from the cecropia?"

"In ten minutes, patron, the Mundurucu will draw sparks from that tree,
and make a fire too, if he can only obtain from it a dry branch, one
without sap, decayed, dead.  You shall see."

So saying, he swam out towards the cecropia.  On reaching this, he
scaled it like a squirrel, and was soon among its silvery fronds, that
spread palm-like over the water.  Soon the snapping of a breaking branch
was heard, and shortly after the Indian came gliding down the tree, and,
holding the piece of cecropia above his head, swam with one hand towards
the caoutchouc, which he once more ascended.  On rejoining his
companions, they saw that the stick he had secured was a bit of dry,
dead wood, light, and of porous texture, just such as might be easily
ignited.  Not caring to make any secret of his design, he confirmed his
companions in their conjecture by informing them that the embauba was
the wood always employed by his people, as well as the other tribes in
Amazonia, when they wished to make a fire; and saying this, he proceeded
without further delay to make them acquainted with the proper way.
Strange to say, it proved to be the friction process, often described as
practised in remote corners of the world, and by savage tribes who could
never have held the slightest communication with one another.  Who
taught them this curious mode of creating fire?  Who inducted the Indian
of the Amazon, and the aboriginal of Borneo, into the identical ideas of
the _sumpitan_ and _gradatana_,--both blow-guns alike?  Who first
instructed mankind in the use of the bow?  Was it instinct?  Was it
wisdom from on high?

While Trevannion was reflecting on this strange theme, the Mundurucu had
shaped a long spindle from a slender branch which he had cut from some
hard wood growing near; and, whirling it between the palms of his hands,
in less than ten minutes, as he had promised, sparks appeared in the
hollowed stick of the cecropia.  Dry leaves, twigs, and bark had been
already collected, and with these a flame was produced, ending in a
fire, that soon burned brightly in one of the forks of the seringa.
Over this the young macaws, supported on spits, were soon done brown;
and a supper of roast arara, with parched sapucaya nuts, proved anything
but a despicable meal to the party who partook of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

ONCE MORE IN THE WATER.

Our adventurers passed a tolerable night among the sipos of the seringa.
They might have slept more soundly but for apprehensions about the
future that intruded even into their dreams.  Morning brought no relief,
for then reality itself appeared ruder than the visions of fancy in
their slumbers.  They had cold macaw for breakfast,--remains of the
preceding night's roast, which had been kept up as long as the fire was
alight, and carefully preserved, to serve for a future occasion.  It was
just sunrise, and as soon as the meal was over, they consulted seriously
how to extricate themselves from their unpleasant and perilous
position,--how to work a deliverance from the jaws of the Gapo.
Whereabouts in this strange region were they?  How far had they entered
it?  They could not even frame a guess of the distance traversed by the
galatea before she had come to grief in the fork of the sapucaya.  It
might be twenty miles, it might be fifty; who could tell?  They only
knew that the ill-fated vessel had been drifting away from the Solimoes,
and deep into the solitudes of the Gapo.  They knew they must be many
miles from the banks of the Solimoes, and, from his hydrographic
knowledge, already tested, the old tapuyo could tell its direction.  But
it was no longer a question of getting back to the channel of the great
river.  On the contrary, the object now was to reach solid land.  It
would be worse than idle to seek the Solimoes without the means of
navigating it; for, even should the stream be reached, it would be one
chance in a thousand to get within hail of a passing vessel.  Almost as
well might such be looked for in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.  They
were now bent on discovering the shortest route to the mainland that
bordered this inundated region.  This should be found in the direction
opposite to that in which the river lay.  It might not, but the
probabilities were in favour of that hypothesis.  They had but little
difficulty in determining the way to take.  The index already pointed
out by the Indian was still to be depended upon.

The _echente_ was still going on.  The current was from the river, if
not with absolute directness, yet with enough to point out the bearing
of the Solimoes.  The land might be many miles distant,--farther than
the river itself,--but there was no alternative but to reach it or die.
But how reach it?  That was the question.  They could hardly hope to
swim the whole distance, for it must be great.  A raft?  This too was
talked of.  But how was a raft to be constructed?  Among the tops of
those water-loving trees there could scarce be found a stick light
enough to have floated itself, let alone the carrying of a ponderous
cargo.  Out of such heavy timber there would be but little chance of
their constructing a raft, and the idea was abandoned almost as soon as
broached.  But Munday's proposal met the approbation of all.  The water
arcade chanced to continue in the direction they should take.  Why not
once more make use of the swimming-belts, that had already done such
good service, and effect a further exploration of the flooded forest?
The proposition was too reasonable to be rejected.  It was unanimously
accepted; and, without more ado, our adventurers descended from the
siphonia, and began to traverse the strait.  The macaw and monkey kept
their company as before, but no longer needed to make themselves a
burden to their protectors, since both could travel through the
tree-tops as the swimmers passed below.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

THE IGARAPE.

They needed no pilot to point out their course.  There could be no
danger of straying from it.  The strait they were following was of that
kind known as an igarape, which, in the language of the Amazonian
Indian, means literally "the path of the canoe,"--_igarite_ being the
name of the craft most used in the navigation of the Gapo.  The strait
itself might have been likened to a canal, running through a thicket,
which formed on both sides a colossal hedge, laced together by an
impenetrable network of parasitical plants.  Unlike a canal, however, it
was not of uniform breadth, here and there widening into little openings
that resembled lakes, and again narrowing until the tree-tops stretching
from each side touched one another, forming underneath a cool, shadowy
arcade.

Up this singular waterway our adventurers advanced, under the guidance
of the bordering line of verdure.  Their progress was necessarily slow,
as the two who could swim well were compelled to assist the others; but
all were aided by a circumstance that chanced to be in their favour,--
the current of the Gapo, which was going in the same direction with
themselves.  Herein they were greatly favoured, for the flow of the
flood corresponded very nearly with the course of the igarape; and, as
they advanced, they might have fancied themselves drifting down the
channel of some gently flowing stream.  The current, however, was just
perceptible; and though it carried them along, it could not be counted
on for any great speed.  With it and their own exertions they were
enabled to make about a mile an hour; and although this rate might seem
intolerably slow, they were not discontented, since they believed
themselves to be going in the right direction.  Had they been castaways
in mid-ocean, the case would have been different.  Such tardy travelling
would have been hopeless; but it was otherwise in the forest sea that
surrounded them.  On one side or the other they could not be more than
fifty miles from real dry land, and perhaps much less.  By going right,
they might reasonably hope to reach it, though detained upon the way.
It was of the utmost importance, however, that the direction should be
known and followed.  A route transverse to it might take them a thousand
miles, either way, through a flooded forest,--westward almost to the
foot of the Andes,--eastward to the mouth of the Amazon!  The
experienced tapuyo, knowing all this, was extremely cautious in choosing
the course they were now pursuing.  He did not exactly keep in the line
indicated by the flow of the flood.  Although the _echente_ was still
going on, he knew that its current could not be at right angles to that
of the river, but rather obliqued to it; and in swimming onward he made
allowance for this oblique, the igarape fortunately trending at a
similar inclination.

Several hours were spent in slowly wending along their watery way, the
swimmers occasionally taking a rest, stretched along the surface of the
water, supported by hanging llianas or the drooping branches of the
trees.  At noon, however, a longer halt was proposed by the guide, to
which his followers gladly gave consent.  All were influenced by a
double desire,--to refresh themselves not only by a good rest, but by
making a meal on the cold roast macaws, several of which were strapped
upon the shoulders of the tapuyo.  A tree with broad, spreading branches
offered a convenient place, and, climbing into it, they took their seats
to await the distribution of the dinner, which was committed to the care
of the ex-steward, Mozey.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

ABOUT HUMMING-BIRDS.

Previous to ascending their dining-tree, the swimmers had been more than
six hours in the water, and, as nearly as they could guess, had made
about that number of miles.  They congratulated themselves on having met
with no hostile inhabitants of the Gapo, for the jararaca and jacare,
with the perils encountered while in the presence of these two dangerous
reptiles, were fresh enough in their remembrance to inspire them with
continual fear.  All along the way, the Indian had been constantly upon
the alert.  Nothing had occurred to cause them alarm, though many
strange sounds had been heard, and strange creatures had been seen.
Most of these, however, were of a character to cheer rather than
affright them.  The sounds were mostly musical,--the voices of birds,--
while the creatures seen were the birds themselves, many of beautiful
forms and bright plumage, perched upon the tree-tops, or winging their
way overhead.  Conspicuous among them were the tiny winged creatures
called humming-birds, with which the Gapo abounded.  During their swim
they had seen several distinct species of these lovely little sprites,
flashing like meteors over the surface of the water, or darting about
through the tree-tops like sparks of glistening light.  They appeared to
be the gnomes and elves of the place.

While eating dinner, our adventurers were favoured with an excellent
opportunity of observing the habits of these graceful and almost
microscopic creatures.  A tree stood near, whose top was surmounted by a
parasite,--a species of bignonia,--in full blossom, that with its array
of sweet-scented flowers completely covered the tree, almost concealing
the green foliage underneath.  Over this flowery spot hundreds of
humming-birds were hovering, now darting from point to point, anon
poised upon swiftly whirring wings in front of an open flower, their
tiny beak inserted into the corolla, therefrom to extract the savoury
honey.  There were several species of them, though none of them of large
size, and all looking more like insects than birds.  But for the
swiftness of their motions, they might have passed for a swarm of wild
bees (_meliponae_) disporting themselves among the flowers.  Ralph and
Rosa were delighted with the spectacle, though it was not new to them,
for the warmer valleys of the Andes, through which they had passed in
approaching the headwaters of the Amazon, were the favourite _habitat_
of the humming-birds, and there a greater number of species exist than
in Amazonia itself.  What was new to them, however, and to the rest of
the party as well, was some information imparted by the tapuyo while
they sat conversing after dinner.  He said that there were two kinds of
these birds, which, although alike in size, beauty, bright plumage, and
many other respects, were altogether distinct in their habits and ways
of life.  By two kinds he did not mean two species, for there were many,
but two sets of species, or groups, as the Indian would have called
them, had he been a student of ornithology.  One set, he said,--and the
several species then before their eyes belonged to it,--lived upon the
juice of the flowers, and this was their only food.  These frequented
such open _campos_ as those on the southern side of the Solimoes, and
along the rivers running into it from that direction.  They were also
common in plantations, and other places where clearings had been made,
or where the forest was thin and scattering, because there only could
they find a sufficiency of flowers.  It was only at times that they made
excursions into the great water-forest, when some of the sipo plants
were in blossom, just as the one before them was at that time.  The
species they saw did not belong to the Gapo.  They had only strayed
there upon a roving excursion, and would soon return to the mainland,--
the treeless regions.  The kinds that frequented the great forest never
went out of it, and cared nothing about flowers.  If seen hovering
around a tree in blossom, it was only because they were in pursuit of
insects, which had been attracted thither in search of the sweet juices.
Upon these the forest humming-birds regularly preyed, making their
exclusive diet upon flies, which they caught as much among the foliage
as the flowers, darting upon the insects whenever they perched upon the
leaves, and snapping them up either from the upper or under side.  They
built their nests upon the tips of the palm-leaves, choosing the side
that was inward towards the tree, from which they suspended them.  They
were purse-shaped, and composed of fibres closely woven together with a
thick lining of a fine, soft silk-cotton, taken from the fruit of a tree
called _samauma_.  They did not come much into the sun, like the other
kinds, but kept more in the shade, and might be often met whirring about
in the aisles of the forest.  Sometimes they would poise themselves in
the air, right in front of a person passing through among the
tree-trunks, and, after remaining till the intruder's face would be
within a few feet of them, would fly on in advance of him, and again
come to a pause in the same way, repeating the manoeuvre several times
in succession.  All these things, averred the observant Indian, made the
humming-birds that kept constantly to the forest very different from
those that only visited it upon occasions, and therefore, in his
opinion, they were of two distinct kinds.  And his opinion was the
correct one, founded on observations already made by the ornithologist,
and which have resulted in the classification of the humming-birds into
two great groups, the _Trochilinae_ and _Phaethorninae_.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

A CUL-DE-SAC.

Notwithstanding the pleasant theme that formed the subject of their
after-dinner discourse, it was not long continued.  Both those who took
part in it and those who listened were too anxious about their situation
to enjoy even the most interesting conversation.  As soon, therefore, as
they felt sufficiently recruited by the rest, they resumed their aquatic
journey.  For several hours they continued to advance at the same slow
rate, without encountering any incident worthy of record.  The igarape
still trended in a straight line, with only here and there a slight
turning to one side or the other, preserving, however, the same general
direction, which was northward.  This they had discovered on the night
before, not by observing the polar star, which is at no time visible at
the equator, nor until you have travelled several degrees to the north
of it.  Even when this well-known star should be seen from the low
latitudes of the torrid zone, it is usually obscured by the hazy film
extending along the horizon.  Sirius and other northern, constellations
had guided them.  As the sun had been shining throughout the whole of
that day as well as the preceding one, you may suppose there could be no
difficulty in discovering the quarter, within a point or two of the
compass, at any hour of the day.  This might be true to any one
travelling in a high latitude, northern or southern, or at certain
seasons of the year, anywhere outside the tropics.  Even within the
tropics it might be done by skilful observation, if the observer knew
the exact time of the year.  Trevannion knew the time.  He knew,
moreover, that it was close upon the vernal equinox, when the sun was
crossing the equatorial line, near to which they were wandering.  For
this reason, in the meridian hours the great orb was right over their
heads, and no one--not even a skilled astronomer--could have told north
from south, or cast from west.

Supposing that the igarape should not be trending in the same direction,
but imperceptibly departing from it?  In that case, during the mid-hours
of the day they could have had no guidance from the sky, and must have
suspended their journey till the sun should begin to sink towards the
west, and once more make known the points of the compass.  Fortunately
they needed not to make this delay.  As already observed, the flow of
the flood was the pilot to which they looked for keeping them in their
course; and, as this still ran with a slight obliquity in the same
direction as the igarape, the latter could not have departed from the
right line upon which, they had been advancing.  The current had been
compared with the points of the compass that morning before setting out.
It was a little to the east of north.  Northward, then, was the course
of the swimmers.

They had drawn further inference from the direction in which the flood
was setting.  It proved that they had strayed from the Solimoes by its
left or northern bank, and must now be somewhere among the mouths of the
great river Japura.  It was no consolation to discover this, but the
contrary.  The old tapuyo only looked graver on arriving at the
conviction that such was the case.  He knew that in that direction, in
the vast delta formed by the unnumbered branches of the Japura, the Gapo
was of great width, extending far back from the banks of this remarkable
river, and dry land in that direction might be at the greatest distance.
There was no alternative but to keep on, and, by deviating from the
course as little as possible, they might in due time reach the limits of
the flood.  Actuated by this impulse and its attendant hopes, they
continued their toilsome journey along "the path of the canoe."

We have said that for several hours they encountered no incident worthy
of note.  It was not destined, however, for that day's sun to set before
one should arise, whose record is not a matter of choice, but necessity,
since it exerted such an influence on the proceedings of the travellers
as to cause a complete change in their mode of progression.  What they
encountered was not exactly an incident, but an obstruction.  In other
words, their swim was suddenly brought to an end by the ending of the
igarape!

They had arrived at the termination of this curious canal, which all at
once came to a _cul-de-sac_, the trees closing in on both sides, and
presenting an impenetrable front, that forbade farther progress.  The
way was equally obstructed in every other direction; for on neither side
of the igarape, throughout its whole length, had any opening been
observed.  At first they fancied that the water might open again beyond
the obstruction, but Munday, after penetrating a short distance among
the tree-trunks, returned to declare his conviction that the igarape was
at an end.  Nor did it terminate by any gradual convergence of the two
lines of trees.  On the contrary, they came together in an abrupt
circular sweep,--one of colossal size, that rose high above its fellows
and spread far out, standing in the centre, like some Titanic guardian
of the forest, and seeming to say to the igarape, "Hitherto shalt thou
come, but no farther!"

It was of no use remaining longer in the water for that day.  Even had
the obstruction not arisen, it was time to have suspended their
exertions.  The sun was sinking towards the tree-tops, and by the time
they could get themselves snugly stowed away, and something ready for
supper, it would be night.  Leaving other cares for the morrow, and the
morrow to take care of itself, they at once proceeded to select their
sleeping-place for the night.  The colossal tree that had come so
unpleasantly across their track seemed to offer the very quarters they
were in search of; and, without more ado, they accepted the hospitality
of its wide-spreading branches.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE BRAZIL-NUTS.

The tree upon which they had made their roost was one of a species of
which they had observed many during the day.  It was the true Brazil-nut
(_Bertholletia excelsa_), own cousin to the sapucaya; for both are of
the same family,--the _Lecythis_,--of which there are many distinct
members.  Like the sapucaya, it is a denizen of the low lands and
flooded forests, growing to a stupendous height.  It produces large,
showy flowers, which are succeeded by huge capsule-like pericarps, each
enclosing a score or more of Brazil-nuts.  But though the flowers are
followed by the fruits, these do not all come together; and, like the
orange and other tropical trees, bud, blossom, and fruit may all be
observed upon the same branch, in various stages of development.

It need not be said that the nuts of the _Bertholletia_ form one of the
commercial staples of Amazonia.  They are too well-known to need further
description; for there are few dwelling-houses in either Europe or
America where they have not been submitted to the squeeze of the
nut-crackers.  In the forest, where they are no man's property, they are
collected by whoever chooses to take the trouble, but chiefly by the
Indians and half-breeds who dwell on the borders of the Gapo.  The time
to gather the Brazil-nuts is the _vasante_, or dry season, though there
are certain tribes of savages that go nutting in their canoes during the
season of the _echente_.  But the real nut harvest is after the floods
have subsided, and the trees once more stand upon dry land.  Then the
whole _malocca_ of Indians, or the inhabitants of a village, proceed in
a body to the places where the fruits are to be found, scattered around
the stems of the tall trees that have produced them.

In gathering their crop the gleaners require to observe certain
precautions, those who go under the trees covering their heads with a
thick wooden cap, resembling a helmet, lest the dropping of the heavy
capsules--big as a cannon-ball, and almost as heavy--might crack a
skull!  For this reason the monkeys of the Amazon forest, though crazy
for sapucaya and Brazil-nuts, always give the _Bertholletia_ a wide
berth, never going under, but around it, in a circle whose circumference
lies outside the tips of the branches.  Strange to say, these creatures
have no fear of the sapucaya, although its pericarps are as large and
heavy as those of the Brazil-nuts.  But the former do not fall to the
ground, or when they do, it is only after the lid has sprung open, and
the huge cup has scattered its contents, leaving it a light and empty
shell.  It is for this reason, as much as anything else, that the nuts
of the sapucaya are scarce in the market, and command a higher price.
Having escaped spontaneously from their shell, they are at the mercy of
all comers, birds, quadrupeds, and monkeys; whereas the Brazil-nuts,
protected by their thick woody pericarps, are not so easily accessible.
Even the monkeys cannot get at them, until some animal with teeth better
adapted for chiselling performs for them the service of laying open the
box, and giving them a chance at the treasures contained within.  This
is done by several species of rodents, among which the _cutia_ and
_paca_ are conspicuous; and one of the most comical spectacles to be
seen in a South American forest is that of a group of monkeys, watching
from a distance the proceedings of a paca thus employed, and then
springing forward to take forcible possession of the pericarp after it
has been sufficiently opened.

It was a bit of good fortune that our adventurers found lodgings upon
the _Bertholletia_.  Though more hospitality may usually be met with in
an inn, it provided them with at least a portion of their supper,--the
bread-stuff.  They had still left a brace of the macaw squabs that had
not been roasted; but Munday, as before, soon produced sufficient fire
to give them a scorching, and keen appetites supplied salt, pepper, and
sauce.

CHAPTER FORTY.

A TRAVELLING PARTY OF GUARIBAS.

Supper over, our adventurers only awaited the sunset to signal them to
their repose.  They had already selected their beds, or what was to
serve for such,--the spaces of horizontal network formed by the
intertwining of luxuriant llianas.  At the best, it was no better than
sleeping upon a raked hurdle; but they had been already somewhat inured
to an uneasy couch on the galatea, and they were every day becoming less
sensitive to necessities and hardships.  They were all tired with the
severe exertions they had made; for although their journey had been but
about six miles, it was enough to equal sixty made upon land.  They felt
as if they could go to sleep astride of a limb, or suspended from a
branch.

It was not decreed by fate that they should find rest before being made
the witnesses of a spectacle so curious, that, had they been ever so
much inclined for sleep, would have kept them awake against their will.

A noise heard afar off in the forest attracted their attention.  There
was nothing in it to alarm them, though had they not heard it before, or
something similar to it, their fears might have been excited to the
utmost pitch of terror.  What they heard was the lugubrious chant of a
band of howling monkeys.  Of all the voices of Nature that awake the
echoes of the Amazonian forest, there is perhaps none so awe-inspiring
as this.  It is a combination of sounds, that embrace the various tones
of shrieking, screaming, chattering, growling, and howling, mingled with
an occasional crash, and a rattle, such as might proceed from the throat
of a dying maniac.  And yet all this is often the product of a single
_mycetes_, or howling monkey, whose hollow hyoidal bone enables him to--
send forth every species of sound, from the rolling of a bass drum to
the sharp squeak of a penny-whistle.

"_Guaribas_!" quietly remarked the Mundurucu, as the distant noise was
first heard.

"Howling monkeys you mean?" interrogatively rejoined Trevannion.

"Yes, patron, and the loudest howlers of the whole tribe.  You'll hear
them presently.  They are coming this way."

"They're not far off now, I should say, if one may judge by the loudness
of their cries."

"All of a mile yet, patron.  It proves that the forest stretches more
than a mile in that direction, else the guaribas could not be there.  If
there be open water between us and them, they won't come this way.  If
not, we'll have them here in ten minutes' time.  I wish we could only
travel among the tree-tops as they can.  We shouldn't stay long in the
Gapo."

"Just as the Mundurucu expected," continued the tapuyo, after a pause.
"The guaribas are coming towards us.  I can hear the swishing of the
leaves as they pass among them.  We'll soon see them."

The howling of the guaribas had for some time ceased, but the rustling
of leaves, with the occasional snapping of a twig, to which the Indian
had directed the attention of his companions, told that the troop was
travelling through the tree-tops, otherwise observing a profound
silence.

Soon they appeared in sight, suddenly presenting themselves upon a tall
tree that stood by the side of the igarape, about a cable's length from
that occupied by our adventurers.  For some minutes the branches of the
tree were seen oscillating up and down, as each black guariba sprang
into it: and this continued until not less than a hundred had found
lodgement upon the limbs.  As the leader of the band, who was evidently
chief of the tribe, caught sight of the igarape, he was seen to pause in
an abrupt and ambiguous manner, at the same moment giving utterance to a
cry, easily intelligible as a word of command.  It had the effect of
causing those immediately behind him to come to a halt, as also the
others, as they sprang successively into the tree.  There could be no
question as to what had caused the halt.  It was the igarape crossing
the track which the guaribas were going.  With them the only question
was, how they were to get over it.

At the point where the howlers had clustered together, the strait was
narrower than elsewhere within sight.  Between the branches, extending
horizontally from the opposite sides of the igarape, there was a clear
space of about twenty feet; and to the spectators it appeared improbable
that any animal without wings could leap from tree to tree.  The
monkeys, however, did not seem to be of this opinion, but were plainly
contemplating the leap; and it was evident that some of them were only
restrained from taking it by an authoritative command from their chief,
which held them in check.  For several minutes there was a profound
silence among them, undisturbed until the stragglers had all arrived in
the tree, and squatted on the branches.

It was now observed that among these last were several mothers, each
carrying a child upon her back, or embraced between her bare arms; the
youngster with face upturned, clinging, not with teeth and toe-nail, but
with hands and tail, to the neck of its maternal parent.  To these the
attention of the whole tribe appeared to be directed; and it was evident
that they were the sole cause of the difficulty,--the _impedimenta_ that
had interrupted the onward march of the troop.

There had been confusion, accompanied by some chattering, after first
coming up; but a sign from the leader had put an end to all noise, and
then succeeded the silence already mentioned.  During its continuance
the guariba chief slowly ascended the tree, until he had attained a
position elevated above all his followers.  Then squatting down, with
his hams firmly planted upon a branch, his long tail carefully coiled
around another, he commenced his harangue with as much ceremony as if he
had been chairman of a Guild-Hall dinner.  Perhaps there was quite as
much sense and eloquence in his speech; at all events, there was more
noise: for during the ten minutes taken up by it--it had the advantage
of brevity--no other sound could have been heard over the Gapo within
the circuit of a mile.

His address being ended, the chief, by a series of detached speeches,
seemed to invite a reply from his followers, coaxing their assent, or
daring them to contradiction.  There appeared to be no dissent, not one
voice.  The chattering that responded to the speech was delivered in a
tone that spoke unanimous compliance with the proposal--whatever it
was--which their chief had offered to their consideration.

Then ensued another interval of silence, much shorter than before, and
again interrupted by the leader of the troop.  This time, however, his
words were few and to the purpose.  They were pronounced in a tone of
command, that called for prompt obedience, which was yielded
instantaneously and without protest.

One of the strongest of the guaribas ran out upon the limb overhanging
the igarape, and, stopping at its extremity, braced himself for the
leap.  In another instant it was made, and the monkey was seen rushing
up into the tree on the other side of the igarape.  A comrade followed,
placing his four hands in the same spot, his body in a similar attitude,
and making the leap so exactly like the guariba that had preceded him,
that it seemed the same monkey repeating the performance.  Then went
another, and another, so close following, that the creatures appeared
more like the links of some colossal but quick-moving chain, pulled by
supernatural power across the igarape, than a series of individual and
animated beings.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE MONKEY MOTHER.

Our adventurers sat in silent wonder watching the movements of the
monkeys.  It was certainly a spectacle of the most interesting character
to see these creatures making the passage of the igarape.  Perhaps the
most singular thing was the similarity of their leaps,--all planting
their feet upon the same spot of the branch from which the leader
sprang, springing exactly in the same way, and alighting on the opposite
side in apparently the same spot and attitude, proving that each and all
must have been actuated by the same thought or instinct at the precise
moment of passing from one tree to the other.  Another singular point
was, that during its continuance the intervals between each two were
almost as regular as the ticking of a clock.  As soon as one launched
itself out from the branch, another sprang into its place, and was ready
to follow so quickly that the air was never for a moment without a
monkey; and any one looking straight down the opening between the trees,
without glancing to either side, might almost have fancied that it was a
single guariba suspended in mid-air!

All the males of the tribe had succeeded in making the leap in safety;
and all the females, too,--those carrying their "piccaninnies" along
with the rest,--except one.  This was a mother with a very young child
on her back,--in fact a mere infant,--perhaps not nine days old.
Notwithstanding its extreme youth, it appeared to comprehend the
situation, as well as those of more mature age, clinging with its
infantile fingers to the shaggy hide of its mother, while its tiny tail
was twisted around the root of hers, in a loop that appeared tight as a
sailor's knot.

But the mother, enfeebled by some sickness,--for monkeys are subject to
sickness as well as men,--appeared doubtful of her ability to accomplish
the leap; and, after all the others had crossed, she stood upon the
branch evidently only half determined about following them.  At this
crisis occurred a curious incident,--the first of a series.  One of
those that had crossed, a man-monkey, was seen to separate from the
crowd, that had by this time ascended to the top of the tree.  Returning
along the limb to which they had just leaped, he placed himself opposite
to the hesitating female and began to chatter, intending to encourage
her, as his gestures showed.  The mother of the infant made reply; but
although the sounds were unintelligible to the human spectators, they
might be translated as saying, "It's not a bit of use, my trying; I
shall only get a ducking for my pains, and the infant too.  It may be
drowned."

Her reply was delivered in a tone of appeal; and, as if affected by it,
the male monkey--evidently the father of the child--made no more
remonstrance, but bounded back across the open water.  It was but the
work of six seconds for him to transfer the juvenile to his own
shoulders; and in as many more both he and it were on the right side of
the igarape.  Relieved of her charge and encouraged by the cries of
those already across, the mother sprang out from the branch.  The effort
was too great for her strength.  With her forefinger she caught the
twigs on the opposite side and succeeded in clutching them; but before
she could lap the branch with her tail,--a more trustworthy means of
prehension,--she had sunk below its level, and, the twigs giving way,
she plunged into the water.

A universal scream came from the top of the tree, and a score or more of
guaribas leaped down upon the limb from which the unfortunate had
fallen.  There was a scene of confusion,--just as there would have been
had the catastrophe happened among human beings,--as when a boat upsets
or some one breaks through the ice, and spectators stand speechless, or
hurry to and fro, no one knowing exactly what to do,--what order to
give, or whom to obey.

Very like was the scene of surprise, terror, and lamentation among the
monkeys,--except that it did not last quite so long.  In this respect
animal instinct, as it is called, has the advantage of bewildered
reason; and, while a crowd upon the sea-beach or the river-bank would
have spent ten minutes before taking action to rescue the drowning
individual, scarcely so many seconds were allowed to elapse before the
guaribas had picked up and safely deposited her trembling person on the
fork of a tree.

The mode in which this had been accomplished was something to astonish
the spectators, and yet it was performed in a very efficient manner.  As
soon as the screaming would permit, the voice of the guariba chieftain
was heard, in a chattering so loud and serious in tone as to indicate
command; and some half-score of the number, in obedience, glided out on
the limb of the tree under which the female was in imminent danger of
being drowned.  A bucket could not have descended into a well, or a
pulley-tackle come down from warehouse or mill, more promptly and
speedily than did that string of monkeys, hooked neck and tail to one
another, like the links of a long chain,--the lowest upon the swinging
series being the husband of the half-drowned mother, who had hastily
deposited his baby in one of the forkings of the tree.  Neither could
the water-bucket have been filled, nor the wheat-sack hooked on, with
half the speed and agility with which she was picked up and restored.

Once more shouldering her "chickabiddy," she took her place in the
troop, which, without further delay, moved on amid the tree-tops,
keeping in a direct line of march, as if bent upon a journey that was to
terminate at some spot already known to them.  For a long time their
track could be traced by their continuous howling, which then was heard
only at intervals, and at length receded to such a distance as to become
inaudible.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

THE MUNDURUCU DISCOURSES OF MONKEYS.

The sun was just setting as the guaribas disappeared; and from this
circumstance it was conjectured that they were on their return to some
favourite resting-place.  Trevannion supposed that they might be on
their way to dry land; and, if so, the route they had taken might serve
himself and party for a direction.  He mentioned this to the Mundurucu,
who shook his head, not doubtfully, but as a simple negative.

"You think it would be of no use our taking the direction in which they
have gone?" said the miner interrogatively.

"No, patron; not a bit of good in that.  They are as like to be going
from _terra firma_ as towards it.  It's all the same to them whether
they sleep over land, or water, so long as they have the trees to cling
to.  They are now trooping to some roost they have a fancy for,--perhaps
some very big tree,--which they use at all times for their
night-rendezvous, and where others of the same tribe will be likely to
meet them.  These have been off to some favourite feeding-ground, where
the fruit may be more plenty than in the neighbourhood of their regular
dwelling-place; or they may have been upon some ramble for amusement."

"What! do monkeys make such excursions?" inquired young Ralph.

"O yes," replied the Mundurucu.  "I've often met them trooping about
among the trees, where nuts and fruits were in plenty; and have watched
them, for hours at a time, without seeing them pluck a single one;--only
chattering and screeching and laughing and playing tricks upon each
other, as if they had nothing else to do.  Neither have they when
certain sorts of fruit are ripe, especially soft fruits, such as berries
and the pulpy nuts of several kinds of palms, as the _pupunha_ and
_assai_.  It is a little different at other seasons, when they have to
live on the Brazil-nuts and sapucayas; then they have something to do to
get at the kernels inside the thick shells, and at this they employ a
good deal of their time."

"Do they sleep perched on the trees, or have they nests among the
branches in which they can lie down at their ease?"

"They have nests, but not for that.  The females only use them when
about to bring forth their young.  As to sleeping at their ease, they
can do that on the very slenderest of branches.  It's no hardship to
them, as it is to us.  Not a bit."

"But do they not sometimes fall off in their sleep?"

"How could they do that, young master, when they have their tails to
hold on by?  Before going to sleep they take a turn or two of their long
tail round a branch, not always the one their body is on, but more
commonly a branch a little above it.  For that matter they don't need
any branch to rest upon.  They can go to sleep, and often do, hanging by
the tail,--for that is the position in which they are most at ease; just
as you would be reclining in a hammock.  I've seen them scores of times
asleep that way.  To prove that they feel most at home when hanging by
the tail, they take to it whenever any alarm comes suddenly upon them;
and they want to be in readiness for retreat, in case of its proving to
be an enemy."

"What singular creatures!" said Ralph, half in soliloquy.

"You speak truth, young master.  They have many an odd way, that would
lead one to believe that they had as much sense as some kinds of men.
You have seen how they picked up the old one that fell into the water;
but I've seen them do a still stranger thing than that.  It is but the
commonest of their contrivances, put in practice every time they want to
pluck a nut, or some fruit that grows near the end of a branch too
slender to carry their weight.  If there's a stronger limb above, they
go out upon it; and then, clinging together as you saw them do, they let
themselves down till the last in the string can lay hold of the fruit.
Sometimes there is no branch right over the spot; but that don't hinder
them from getting what they have coveted, if they can find a stout limb
anyways near.  Then they make their string all the same; and, by setting
it in motion, they swing back and forward, until the lowest of the party
is tossed out within reach of the fruit.  I've seen them try this, and
find that their string was just a few inches too short, when another
monkey would glide down upon the others, and add his length to complete
it.  Then I've seen them make a bridge, young master."

"Make a bridge!  Are you in earnest?  How could they?"

"Well, just in the same way as they get within reach of the nuts."

"But for what purpose?"

"To get across some bit of water, as a fast-running stream, where they
would be drowned if they fell in."

"But how do they accomplish it?  To make a bridge requires a skilled
engineer among men; are there such among monkeys?"

"Well, young master, I won't call it such skill; but it's very like it.
When on their grand journeyings they come to a stream, or even an
igarape like this, and find they can't leap from the trees on one side
to those growing on the other, it is then necessary for them to make the
bridge.  They go up or down the bank till they find two tall trees
opposite each other.  They climb to a high branch on the one, and then,
linking together, as you've seen them, they set their string in motion,
and swing backward and forward, till one at the end can clutch a branch
of the tree, on the opposite side.  This done the bridge is made, and
all the troop, the old ones that are too stiff to take a great leap, and
the young ones that are too weak, run across upon the bodies of their
stouter comrades.  When all have passed over, the monkey at the other
end of the string lets go his hold upon the branch; and if he should be
flung into water it don't endanger him, as he instantly climbs up the
bodies of those above him, the next doing the same, and the next also,
until all have got safe into the trees."

"Be japers," exclaimed Tipperary Tom, "it's wonderful how the craythers
can do it!  But, Misther Munday, have yez iver seen them fall from a
tree-top?"

"No, never, but I've known one to leap from the top of a tree full a
hundred feet in height."

"Shure it was kilt dead then?"

"If it was it acted very oddly for a dead animal, as it had scarce
touched the ground when it sprang back up another tree of equal height,
and scampered to the top branches nearly as quick as it came down."

"Ah!" sighed Trevannion, "if we had only the activity of these
creatures, how soon we might escape from this unfortunate dilemma.  Who
knows what is before us?  Let us pray before going to rest for the
night.  Let us hope that He, in whose hands we are, may listen to our
supplications, and sooner or later relieve us from our misery."  And so
saying, the ex-miner repeated a well-remembered prayer, in the response
to which not only the young people, but the Indian, the African, and the
Irishman fervently joined.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

TWO SLUMBERERS DUCKED.

It was somewhere among the mid-hours of the night, and all appeared to
be as sound asleep as if reclining upon couches of eider-down.  Not a
voice was heard among the branches of the Brazil-nut,--not a sound of
any kind, if we except the snore that proceeded from the spread nostrils
of the negro, and that of a somewhat sharper tone from the nasal organ
of the Irishman.  Sometimes they snored together, and for several
successive trumpetings this simultaneity would be kept up.  Gradually,
however, one would get a little ahead, and then the two snorers would be
heard separately, as if the two sleepers were responding to each other
in a kind of dialogue carried on by their noses.  All at once this nasal
duet was interrupted by a rustling among the boughs upon which rested
Tipperary Tom.  The rustling was succeeded by a cry, quickly followed by
a plunge.

The cry and the plunge woke everybody upon the tree; and while several
inquired the cause of the disturbance, a second shout, and a second
plunge, instead of affording a clue to the cause of alarm, only rendered
the matter more mysterious.  There was a second volley of
interrogatories, but among the inquiring voices two were missing,--those
of Mozey and the Irishman.  Both, however, could now be heard below; not
very articulate, but as if their owners were choking.  At the same time
there was a plashing and a plunging under the tree, as if the two were
engaged in a struggle for life.

"What is it?  Is it you, Tom?  Is it you, Mozey?" were the questions
that came thick and fast from those still upon the tree.

"Och! ach!--I'm chokin'!--I'm--ach--drown--ach--drownin'!--Help! help!"
cried a voice, distinguishable as the Irishman's, while Mozey's was
exerted in a similar declaration.

All knew that Tom could not swim a stroke.  With the Mozambique it was
different.  He might sustain himself above water long enough to render
his rescue certain.  With Tom no time was to be lost, if he was to be
saved from a watery grave; and, almost with his cry for help, Richard
Trevannion and the Mundurucu plunged in after him.

For a time, Trevannion himself and his two children could hear,
underneath them, only a confused medley of sounds,--the splashing of
water mingled with human voices, some speaking, or rather shouting, in
accents of terror, others in encouragement.  The night was dark; but had
it been ever so clear, even had the full moon been shining above, her
beams could not have penetrated through the spreading branches of the
Brazil-nut, melted and lined as they were with thorns and leafy llianas.

It would seem an easy task for two such swimmers as the Indian and
Paraense to rescue Tipperary Tom from his peril.  But it was not quite
so easy.  They had got hold of him, one on each side, as soon as the
darkness allowed them to discern him.  But this was not till they had
groped for some time; and then he was found in such a state of
exhaustion that it required all the strength of both to keep his chin
above the surface.

Mozey was fast becoming as helpless as Tom, being more than half
paralysed by the fright he had got from being precipitated into the
water while still sound asleep.  Such a singular awaking was sufficient
to have confused a cranium of higher intellectual development than that
of the Mozambique.

After having discovered their half-drowned companions, neither Richard
nor the Mundurucu knew exactly what to do with them.  Their first
thought was to drag them towards the trunk of the tree, under which they
had been immersed.  This they succeeded in doing; but once alongside the
stem, they found themselves in no better position for getting out of the
water.  There was not a branch within reach by which to raise
themselves, and the bark was as smooth as glass, and slippery with
slime.

When first ascending into the great tree, they had made use of some
hanging parasite, which now in the darkness they were unable to find.
Even the two swimmers began to despond.  If not their own lives, those
of their comrades might be lost in that gloomy aisle, whose pavement was
the subtle, deceitful flood.  At this crisis an idea occurred to the
young Paraense that promised to rescue them from their perilous
position, and he called out, "The swimming-belts! fling down the
swimming-belts!"  His uncle and cousin, by this time having a clearer
comprehension of what had occurred, at once obeyed the command.  Richard
and the Indian were not slow to avail themselves of this timely
assistance; and in a trice the two half-drowned men were buoyed up
beyond further danger.

On getting back into the Bertholletia, there was a general explanation.
Tipperary Tom was the cause of the awkward incident.  Having gone to
sleep without taking proper precautions, his limbs, relaxed by slumber,
had lost their prehensile power, and, sliding through the llianas, he
had fallen plump into the water below, a distance of more than a dozen
feet.  His cries, and the consequent plunge, had startled the negro so
abruptly that he too had lost his equilibrium, and had soused down the
instant after.

The Mundurucu was by no means satisfied with the occurrence.  It had not
only interrupted his repose, but given him a wet shirt in which to
continue it.  He was determined, however, that a similar incident should
not, for that night, occur,--at least not with the same individuals,--
and before returning to his roost he bound both of them to theirs with
_sipos_ strong enough to resist any start that might be caused by the
most terrible of dreams.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

OPEN WATER.

The next day was spent in explorations.  These did not extend more than
four hundred yards from their sleeping-place; but, short as was the
distance, it cost more trouble to traverse it than if it had been twenty
miles on land, across an open country.

It was a thicket through which the explorers had to pass, but such a
thicket as one acquainted only with the ordinary woods of Northern
countries can have no conception of.  It was a matted tangle of trees
and parasitical plants, many of the latter--such as the climbing
jacitara palms, the huge cane-briers, and bromelias--thickly set with
sharp spines, that rendered it dangerous to come in contact with them.
Even had there been firm footing, it would have been no easy task to
make way through such a network; but, considering that it was necessary
to traverse the wood by passing from tree to tree, all the time keeping
in their tops, it will not be wondered at that a few hundred yards of
such progress was accounted a day's journey.

You must not suppose that all the party of our adventurers went even
thus far.  In fact, all of them remained in the Brazil-nut, except the
two who had acted as explorers on the former occasion,--Richard and the
Mundurucu.  It would have been worse than idle for any other to have
accompanied them.

It was near sunset when they returned with their report, which to
Trevannion and his party seemed anything but encouraging.  The explorers
had penetrated through the forest, finding it flooded in every
direction.  Not an inch of dry land had they discovered; and the Indian
knew, from certain signs well understood by him, that none was near.
The rapid drift of the current, which he had observed several times
during the day, was one of these indications.  It could not, he
declared, be running in that way, if dry land were in the vicinity.  So
far, therefore, as reaching the shore was concerned, they might make up
their minds for a long journey; and how this was to be performed was the
question of the hour.

One point the explorers had definitely determined.  The igarape
terminated at their sleeping-place.  There was no sign of it beyond.
Instead, however, they had come upon an opening of a very different
character.  A vast expanse of water, without any trees, had been found,
its nearest edge being the limit of their day's excursion.  This open
water did not extend quite to the horizon.  Around it, on all sides,
trees could be seen, or rather the tops of trees; for it was evident
that the thicket-like bordering was but the "lop and top" of a submerged
forest.  On returning to the "roost," Munday urged their going towards
the open water.

"For what purpose?" inquired the patron, who failed to perceive any good
reason for it.  "We can't cross it, there being no sort of craft to
carry us.  We cannot make a raft out of these green branches, full of
sap as they are.  What's the use of our going that way?  You say there's
open water almost as far as you can see,--so much the worse, I should
think."

"No, patron," replied the Indian, still addressing Trevannion as
respectfully as when acting as his hired _tapuyo_.  "So much the better,
if you give me leave to differ with you.  Our only hope is to find open
water."

"Why, we have been all along coming from it.  Isn't there plenty of it
behind us?"

"True, patron; but it's not running in the right direction.  If we
launched upon it, the current would be against us.  Remember, master,
'tis the _echente_.  We couldn't go that way.  If we could, it would
only bring us back to the river-channel, where, without some sort of a
vessel, we should soon go to the bottom.  Now the open Gapo we've seen
to-day is landward, though the land may be a good way off.  Still, by
crossing it, we shall be getting nearer to firm ground, and that's
something."

"By crossing it?  But how?"

"We must swim across it."

"Why, you've just said that it stretches almost to the edge of the
horizon.  It must be ten miles or more.  Do you mean to say we can swim
so far?"

"What's to hinder us, master?  You have, the monkey-pots; they will keep
you above water.  If not enough for all, we can get more.  Plenty of the
sapucaya-trees here."

"But what would be the object of our crossing this expanse of water?
You say there is no dry land on the other side; in that case, we'll be
no better off than here."

"There is land on the other side, though I think not near.  But we must
keep on towards it, else we shall never escape from the Gapo.  If we
stay here, we must starve, or suffer greatly.  We might search the
forest for months, and not find another nesting-place of the araras, or
good food of any kind.  Take my advice, patron.  Soon as comes the light
of to-morrow, let us cross to the open water.  Then you can see for
yourself what is best for us to do."

As the perilous circumstances in which they were placed had altogether
changed the relationship between Trevannion and his _tapuyo_, the latter
being now the real "patron," of course the ex-miner willingly gave way
to him in everything; and on the morning of the next day the party of
adventurers forsook the Brazil-nut, and proceeded towards the open Gapo.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

THE JACANAS.

It will be asked how they proceeded.  To swim to the open water would
have been next to impossible, even with the assistance of the floats.
Not only would the thick tree-trunks and drooping llianas have hindered
them from making way in any direction; but there would have been nothing
to guide them through the shadowy water, and they must soon lose
themselves in a labyrinth of gloom.  No sign of the sky could have
availed them in the deep darkness below; and there were no landmarks to
which to trust.  The answer is, that they made their way along much as
did the monkeys which had passed them the day before, only that their
pace was a hundred times slower, and their exertions a thousand times
more laborious.  In fact, they travelled among the tree-tops, and
followed the same track which their explorers had already taken, and
which Munday, on his return, had taken the precaution to "blaze" by
breaking a number of twigs and branches.

Their progress was of the slowest kind,--slower than the crawl of a
cripple; but by dint of perseverance, and the performance of many feats
in climbing and clinging and balancing, and general gymnastics, they
succeeded at length in reaching the edge of the forest, and gaining a
view of the wide watery expanse.  It was a relief to their eyes, so long
strained to no purpose amidst the shadowy foliage that had enveloped
them.

"Now, Munday," asked Trevannion, as soon as he had recovered breath,
after such laborious exertion, "we are here on the edge of the open
water.  You talk of our being able to swim across it.  Tell us how."

"Just as we swam the igarape."

"Impossible, as you've admitted it can't be less than ten miles to the
other side.  The tree-tops yonder are scarce discernible."

"We came nearly as far along the canoe-path."

"True; but then we had a chance to rest every few minutes, and that gave
us strength to go on.  It will be different if we attempt to cross this
great sea, where there is no resting-place of any kind.  We should be a
whole day on the water, perhaps more."

"Perhaps so, patron.  But remember, if we do not try to get out of the
Gapo, we may be three, four, five, or six months among these tree-tops.
We may get no food but a few nuts and fruits,--scarcely enough to keep
us alive.  We may lose strength, and be no longer able to stay among the
branches; we may grow faint and fall, one by one, into the water, to go
down to the bottom of the Gapo or drop into the jaws of the jacares."

The alternative thus brought in terrible detail vividly before them
produced a strong impression; and Trevannion offered no objection to any
plan which the Mundurucu should propose.  He only requested a fuller
account of the feasibility of that now suggested,--in other words, an
explanation as to how they were to swim a stretch of ten miles without
stopping to rest.

Munday made no mystery of the matter.  He had no other plan than that
already tried with success,--the swimming-belts; only that two
additional sets would now be needed,--one for himself, the other for the
young Paraense.  On the short passage from the sapucaya to the forest,
and along the canoe-path, these bold swimmers had disdained the use of
that apparatus; but in a pull of ten miles, even they must have recourse
to such aid.

No further progress was to be made on that day, as the fatigue of their
arboreal journey required a long rest; and shortly after their arrival
upon the edge of the forest, they set about arranging for the night,
having chosen the best tree that could be found.  Unfortunately, their
larder was lower than it had ever been, since the going down of the
galatea.  Of the squab macaws there were no longer any left; and some
sapucaya nuts gathered by the way, and brought along by Munday, formed
the substance of their scanty supper.

As soon as it was eaten, the Mundurucu, assisted by Richard, busied
himself in manufacturing the required swimming-belts; and long before
the sun disappeared behind the forest spray, everything was ready for
their embarkation, which was to take place at the earliest moment of its
reappearance.

As usual, there was conversation,--partly to kill time, and partly to
keep off the shadows that surrounded, and ever threatened to reduce them
to despair.  Trevannion took pains to keep it up, and make it as
cheerful as the circumstances would permit, his object being less to
satisfy himself than to provide gratification for his children.  At
times he even attempted to jest; but generally the conversation turned
upon topics suggested by the scene, when the Indian, otherwise taciturn,
was expected to do the talking.  The open water became the subject on
this particular occasion.

"It appears like a lake," remarked the ex-miner.  "I can see a line of
trees or tree-tops all around it, with no signs of a break or channel."

"It is one," rejoined the _tapuyo_.  "A real _lagoa_.  Water in it at
all seasons,--both _echente_ and _vasante_,--only 'tis fallen now from
the flood.  There are no _campos_ in this part of the country; and if it
wasn't a lagoa, there would be trees standing out of it.  But I see a
surer sign,--the _piosocas_."

The speaker pointed to two dark objects at some distance off, that had
not hitherto been observed by any of the party.  On more careful
scrutiny, they proved to be birds,--large, but of slender shape, and
bearing some resemblance to a brace of cranes or curlews.  They were of
dark colour, rufous on the wings, with a green iridescence that
glistened brightly under the beams of the setting sun.

They were near enough to enable the spectators to distinguish several
peculiarities in their structure; among others a singular leathery
appendage at the base of the beak, stout, spinous processes or "spurs"
on the wing shoulders, very long, slender legs, and _tarsi_ of immense
length, radiating outward from their shank, like four pointed stare,
spread horizontally on the surface of the water.

What struck the spectators, not only with surprise, but appeared
unaccountable, was the fact that these birds seen upon the water were
not seated as if swimming or afloat; but standing erect upon their long
tarsi and toes, which apparently spread upon the surface, as if upon
ice!

Stranger still, while they were being watched, both were seen to forsake
their statue-like attitude, and move first toward each other, and then
apart again, running to and fro as if upon a solid fooling!  What could
it all mean?  Munday was asked for the explanation.  Were they walking
upon the water?

No.  There was a water plant under their feet--a big lily, with a leaf
several feet in diameter, that floated on the surface--sufficient to
carry the weight of the biggest bird.  That was what was supporting the
piosocas.

On scanning the surface more carefully, they could distinguish the big
lily, and its leaf with a turned-up edge resembling the rim of a Chinese
gong, or a huge frying-pan.  They became acquainted for the first time
with that gigantic lily, which has been entitled "the Royal Victoria,"
and the discoverer of which was knighted for his flattery.

"'Tis the _furno de piosoca_," said Munday, continuing his explanation.
"It is called so, because, as you see, it's like the oven on which we
bake our Cassava; and because it is the favourite roost of the piosoca."

By "piosoca" the Indian meant the singular _jacana_ of the family
_Palamedeidae_, of which there are species both in Africa and America.

The birds had fortunately made their appearance at a crisis when the
spectators required something to abstract their thoughts from the cares
that encompassed them, and so much were they engrossed by the curious
spectacle, that they did not perceive the _tapuyo_, as he let himself
gently down into the water, and swam off under the drooping branches of
the trees, pausing at a point opposite to where the piosocas were at
play.

From this point they could not have perceived him, as he had dived under
water, and did not come up again until the slender shanks of a jacana,
enveloped in the lily's soft leaf, were clutched by his sinewy fingers,
and the bird with a shrill scream was seen fluttering on the water,
while its terrified mate soared shrieking into the air.

The party in the tree-tops were at first amazed.  They saw a dark, round
object close to the struggling jacana, that resembled the head of a
human being, whose body was under water!  It was not till it had come
nearer, the bird still keeping it close company, that they identified
the head, with its copper-coloured face, now turned towards them, as
belonging to their guide and companion,--Munday.  A fire was soon
blazing in the branches, and instead of going to sleep upon a supper of
raw sapucayas, our adventurers sought repose after a hearty meal made
upon roast jacana!

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

A COMPANION LEFT BEHIND.

By daybreak they were once more in the water, each provided with a
complete set of swimming-shells.  As the voyage was more extensive, and
altogether more perilous, the greatest pains was taken to have the
swimming apparatus as perfect as possible.  Any flaw, such as a weak
place in the waist-belts or shoulder-straps, or the smallest crevice
that would admit water into one of the shells, might be followed by
serious consequences, perhaps even drowning.  Besides making the new
belts, therefore, Munday had mended the old ones, giving all the shells
an additional coating of caoutchouc, and strengthening the sipos that
attached them to one another.

Just as the sun's disk was seen above the tree-tops that skirted the
_lagoa_ on the east, our adventurers embarked on their aquatic
expedition.  But it could not be said that they started in high spirits.
They knew not what was to be the sequel of their singular undertaking.
Where their journey was to end, or whether its end might not be for some
of their number--if not all of them--the bottom of the Gapo.

Indeed, the Indian, to whom they all looked for encouragement as well as
guidance, was himself not very sanguine of success.  He did not say so,
but for all that Trevannion, who had kept interrogating him at intervals
while they were preparing to start, had become impressed with this
belief.  As the Mundurucu persisted in counselling the expedition, he
did not urge any further opposition, and under the auspices of a
glorious tropical sunrise they committed themselves to the open waters
of the lagoa.

At the very start there occurred a somewhat ominous accident.  As the
coaita would have been a cumbersome companion for any of the swimmers to
carry, it was decided that the creature should be left behind.
Unpleasant as it was to part with a pet so long in the company of the
galatea's crew, there was no alternative but to abandon it.

Tipperary Tom, notwithstanding his attachment toward it, or rather its
attachment toward him, was but too willing to assent to the separation.
He had a vivid recollection of his former entanglement, and the risk he
had run of being either drowned in the Gapo, or strangled by the
coaita's tail; and with this remembrance still fresh before his fancy,
he had taken the precaution at this new start to steal silently off from
the trees, among the foremost of the swimmers.  Everybody in fact had
got off, before the coaita was aware of their intention to abandon it,
and to such a distance that by no leap could it alight upon anybody's
shoulders.  On perceiving that it was left behind, it set up a series of
cries, painfully plaintive, but loud enough to have been heard almost to
the limits of the lagoa.

A similar desertion of the macaw was evidently intended, to which no one
had given a thought, although it was Rosa's pet.  The ouistiti had been
provided with a free passage upon the shoulders of the young Paraense.
But the huge parrot was not to be left behind in this free and easy
fashion.  It was not so helpless as the coaita.  It possessed a pair of
strong wings, which, when strongly and boldly spread, could carry it
clear across the lagoa.  Conscious of this superior power, it did not
stay long upon the trees, to mingle its chattering with the screams of
the coaita.  Before the swimmers had made a hundred strokes, the macaw
mounted into the air, flew for a while hoveringly above them, as if
selecting its perch, and then dropped upon the negro's head, burying its
claws in his tangled hair.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

THE GUIDE ABANDONED.

As the swimmers proceeded, their hopes grew brighter.  They saw that
they were able to make good headway through the water; and in less than
an hour they were a full mile distant from their point of departure.  At
this rate they should be on the other side of the lagoon before sunset,
if their strength would only hold out.  The voyage promised to be
prosperous; and joy sat upon their countenances.

Shortly after there came a change.  A cloud was seen stealing over the
brow of the Mundurucu, which was the cue for every other to exhibit a
similar shadowing.  Trevannion kept scanning the countenance of the
tapuyo to ascertain the cause of his disquietude.  He made no enquiry;
but he could tell by the behaviour of the Indian that there, was trouble
on his mind.  At intervals he elevated his head above the water, and
looked back over his shoulder, as if seeking behind him for the cause of
his anxiety.  As they swam on farther, Munday's countenance lost nothing
of its anxious cast, while his turnings and backward glances became more
frequent.  Trevannion also looked back, though only to ascertain the
meaning of the tapuyo's manoeuvres.  He could see nothing to account for
it,--nothing but the tree-tops from which they had parted, and these
every moment becoming less conspicuous.  Though the patron did not
perceive it, this was just what was causing the tapuyo's apprehensive
looks.  The sinking of the trees was the very thing that was producing
his despondency.

Stimulated less by curiosity than alarm, Trevannion could keep silent no
longer.  "Why do you look back, Munday?" he inquired.  "Is there any
danger in that direction?  Have you a fear that we shall be followed?  I
can see nothing except the tree-tops, and them scarcely at this moment."

"That's the danger.  We shall soon lose sight of them altogether; and
then--"

"What then?"

"Then--I confess, patron, I am puzzled.  I did not think of it before we
took to the water."

"O, I see what you mean.  You've been hitherto guiding our course by the
trees from which we parted.  When they are no longer in view we shall
have nothing to steer by?"

"It is true.  The Great Spirit only can guide us then!"  The Mundurucu
evidently felt more than chagrin that he had expressed himself so
confidently about their being able to cross the lagoon.  He had only
taken into consideration the circumstance of their being able to swim,
without ever thinking of the chance of their losing the way.  The trees