Arthur had said nothing of the packet he had received from the recluse, yet I was sure that he would not lose a moment in opening it after the time had arrived when he had permission to do so. Ellen came running to me the following morning, I having gone out before breakfast to look round the farm. I saw by her beaming countenance that she was full of some matter of importance.

"It is as I told you, Harry!" she exclaimed. "The recluse is Arthur's father—I knew it—I was sure of it. Arthur read to me last night some of the letter he gave him. Poor fellow, he is in a great state of agitation, and blames himself for having come away and left him. The recluse—that is to say, Mr Mallet—speaks somewhat vaguely of a fearful event which compelled him to leave England; and he says that, though yearning to have his son by his side, he will not take him out of the path which Providence has placed him in, and from the protection of kind friends—that he himself, long an outcast from his fellow-men, cannot help him, and that by starting alone in life he will have a far better prospect of success than should it be known whose son he is. These remarks, though Arthur is thankful to have found his father, have made him very unhappy. He will talk to you by-and-by, when he has thought the matter over; and do you know, the recluse—I mean, Mr Mallet—says that papa is an old friend of his, and that Arthur may tell him so, as he is sure that though papa may not desire to meet him, he will not in consequence withdraw his protection from his son."

"That I am sure papa will not," I exclaimed. "Poor Arthur! I do not know whether to be sorry or glad at what you have told me. Had he spoken to me I might have been better able to advise him."

Ellen looked into my face. Perhaps she thought that I felt a little jealous that Arthur had not first consulted me. We agreed not to say anything about the matter, but to let Arthur speak to our father himself, being assured that he would do what was kind and generous, and act as he judged for the best.

Arthur during the day was, I observed, more silent than usual. He was waiting, I suspected, to become more acquainted with our father before venturing to speak to him. I was not present when he did so.

The day after our arrival Duppo came to me with a countenance of alarm. "We get among witches!" he exclaimed, looking round cautiously. I asked him what he could mean; and he then told me that he had seen the two young ladies in a wood close to the house, amusing themselves by playing with venomous snakes, which he was sure they could not do if they were like other human beings. "Come, you see them," he said, wishing to prove his assertion correct; and he led me round the house, through the grove of palms, where, sure enough, seated on a bench, from whence there was a lovely view of the lake, were the two daughters of our host. I confess I was almost startled on seeing them with a number of brilliant looking snakes. One was round each of their necks, while others they had twisted like bracelets, encircling their arms; and one of the girls was holding another in her hand, allowing its forked tongue to dart out towards her face. They were of a bright grass-green colour, with remarkably thin bodies; and it was curious to see the graceful way in which the lithe, active creatures crawled about, or lay coiled up perfectly at home in their laps. Unwilling to be an eavesdropper, I was retiring, when I met Fanny and Ellen, and told them what I had seen, and Duppo's suspicions. Fanny laughed, saying they were perfectly harmless, and had been tamed by their friends, and returned with me to where the girls were seated. Duppo, however, beat a retreat, evidently unwilling to be in such a dangerous neighbourhood. They were highly amused at hearing of Duppo's alarm, and showed me that the snakes were perfectly harmless. I took one in my hand, when the creature coiled itself round my arm, and I could admire at leisure its colour, and the beautiful topaz yellow of its eyes. The snakes were between two and three feet long. They were so thoroughly tamed, that though placed on the ground they did not attempt to escape, but came back immediately they were called by their young mistresses. So slender were their bodies, that when coiled completely up I could place one on the palm of my hand.

Though I told Duppo afterwards that I had actually handled the snakes, he was not convinced of their harmless character, and insisted that it was another proof that they had been charmed by the white witches, which he still evidently considered our Brazilian friends. Oria, however, was far braver; for when she saw Fanny and Ellen play with the creatures, she without hesitation took one of them up, and allowed it to coil itself round her neck, where it made a pretty ornament on her dark skin.

Pedro, the son of our host, returned the next day with a boat-load of turtle and fish which he had caught; as well as a number of birds, some of them of exquisite plumage. John, Arthur, and I begged to accompany him the next time he set out on a similar expedition; and we found that he proposed starting again the following day. Meantime Senhora Josefa, with the assistance of her slaves, was employed in salting and drying the fish and fowl she had just received.

We started in the morning with two canoes, equipped with nets, spears, and lines, bows and arrows, and blow-pipes as well as guns.

The lower portion of the banks of the Amazon were at this time covered with water on either side, varying in height from one to ten feet, and in some places reaching twenty. This district, known as the Gapo, extends from the Napo upwards of seventeen hundred miles, to the very borders of Peru. It thus becomes a region of countless islands, separated by expanses of water—but not open water, as forest trees appear growing out of it in all directions; while in other parts there are numbers of lakes of all sizes—some many miles in extent, others mere pools, dry in summer, but all abounding in fish of various sorts, in turtles and alligators. We could often, in consequence of the flooded state of the country, make short cuts in our canoe directly through the forest, in some places with a depth of five to ten feet below our keels.

As we were paddling on through a scene such as I have described, we passed near a raft secured to the trunks of four trees, on which was an Indian family, with a small fire burning on it. The mother was cooking fish, while the father lay in his hammock suspended between the trees. A small, crazy looking canoe was moored to it. The family appeared perfectly contented and unconcerned, and accustomed to the curious mode of life. Pedro told us they were Muras Indians. During the dry season they live on the sand-banks, employed in catching turtle in the large river; and when the rainy season sets in they retire to these solitudes, whence they sally forth in their canoes to catch manatees and turtle, and fish of many sorts. We were proceeding away from the main stream by a broad water-path, with numberless narrower paths leading off in all directions. During the first part of our voyage we could see for a considerable distance through the irregular colonnade of trees; but as we progressed the path became narrower, and the trees grew closer together, their boughs frequently stretching forth over our heads. From many of them beautiful bright yellow flowers hung down, the stems several feet in length, while ferns and numerous air-plants thickly covered the trunks of the palms or drooped over from their summits. Now and then we passed through a thicket of bamboos, their slender foliage and gracefully-curving stems having arranged themselves in the most elegant feathery bowers. Crossing through the forest, we passed a grove of small palms, their summits being but a few feet above us. They bore bunches of fruit, which our Indians cut off with their knives. We found it of an agreeable flavour. The birds feeding overhead now and then sent down showers of fruit, which splashed into the water round us. Frequently we heard a rustling in the leaves, and caught sight in many places of troops of monkeys peeping down from among the dense foliage. Then off they would go, leaping from bough to bough through the forest. Here a flock of paroquets appeared in sight for a few moments. Now one of the light-blue chatterers, then a lovely trogon, would seize a fruit as it darted by; or the delicate white wing and claret-coloured plumage of a lovely pompadour would glance from the foliage; or a huge-billed toucan would pitch down on a bough above us, and shake off a fruit into the water. Gay flowers, too, were not wanting, of the orchid tribe: some with white and spotted and purple blossoms; the most magnificent of a brilliant purple colour, called by the natives Saint Ann's flower, four inches across. We plucked some, which emitted a most delightful odour. At last we came out once more into the bright sunshine, at a small lake, the surface of which was adorned in many parts with numberless beautiful water-plants—graceful lilies, yellow bladder-worts, and numbers of a bright blue flower, which contrasted with the green leaves. The whole track, indeed, consisted, we found, of igarapes, lakes, and gapo; here and there patches of high and dry land so mingled together that we could not have told whether we were on the main shore or on an island.

At length we reached another lake with higher banks, where Pedro told us we would encamp and commence fishing. The little lake extended over an area of about ten acres, and was surrounded by the forest. The borders were somewhat swampy, and covered with a fine grass. On these borders the hunters erected little stages, consisting of long poles, with cross-pieces secured by lianas. The pool abounded with turtle. Our hunters mounted the stages, armed with bow and arrow. The arrow was so formed that the head when it struck the animal remained in its body, while the shaft floated to the surface, though remaining attached to it by a long line. We remained in a larger canoe to watch proceedings, while Pedro and two Indians entered a smaller one. The Indians did not even wait for the turtles to come to the surface; but the moment they saw a ripple in the water, the man nearest shot his arrow with unerring aim, and it never failed to pierce the shell. As soon as one was shot, Pedro paddled towards it, and, taking the shaft and line in his hand, humoured the creature as a fisherman does a salmon, till, exhausted, it rose to the surface, when it was further secured by another arrow shot at it, and then with the two lines easily hauled into the canoe. John and I tried our skill; but our arrows missed their aim, and I very nearly shot our friend Pedro instead of the turtle.

Another small canoe had been sent for, which now arrived. So rapidly were the turtle shot that both canoes were actively engaged in picking them up. Fully forty were thus killed in a short time. The net was then spread at one end of the pool, while the rest of the party began beating the water from the opposite side with long poles, some along the edges and others in the canoes. We could see the backs of the turtles as they swam forward. When they got close to the net the two ends were rapidly drawn together, surrounding a large number of them; and then all hands uniting at the ropes, quickly dragged it towards the shore. As they appeared above the water, the men seized them, and threw them into the canoes, which came up to the spot. Many, however, managed to scramble out again before they were turned on their backs. Arthur and I rushed in with the rest to assist in their capture, when suddenly I felt an extraordinary sensation in my foot.

"Oh, I have been bitten by a water-snake!" I exclaimed, leaping up.

"And so have I!" cried Arthur. And we rushed on shore, both of us looking anxiously down at our legs. No wounds, however, were to be seen.

When the net was finally drawn on shore, after a vast number of small turtle had been taken out of it, several curious fish were seen, and among them five or six eel-looking creatures, with large heads. The Indians cried out something; but not understanding them, I took up one of the creatures to examine it, when instantly I felt the sensation I had experienced in the water, and now discovered that they were electric eels. To prove it yet further, I took out my knife, and Pedro, Arthur, and I, with several Indians, joined hands, when instantly the rest, greatly to their astonishment, felt the shock as if they had touched the fish itself. We persuaded the other Indians to try the experiment; and they were greatly amused and astonished at finding the electric spark pass through their systems.

Altogether we caught upwards of a hundred turtle. We then moved on to another lake with a sandy shore, where the net was again drawn for the sake of obtaining fish. I had never seen so many and various fish taken together. It would be impossible to describe them. Among them was a beautiful oval-shaped fish, which the natives call acara. There are numerous species, we heard: some of them deposit their eggs in the sand, and hover over them until the young are hatched; but there are others which take still greater care of them, and have a cavity near the gills, in which the male takes up the eggs and carries them there, not only till they are hatched, but actually keeps the young fry in safety within them. When able to swim they go out and take exercise; but on the approach of danger they rush back into their parents' mouths for protection. This cavity is in the upper part of the bronchial arches. I should scarcely have believed the fact from the report of the natives, had I not actually seen both the eggs and the young fry in their parents' head. There are several species of fish in the waters of the Amazon which are thus wonderfully supplied with the means of protecting their young.

"You shall now see another way we have of taking fish," said our friend Pedro.

We paddled off to a still part of the lake. He then poured out of a calabash some coloured liquid.

"And now let us land," he said, "and while we take our dinner, watch the result."

The liquid, he told us, was produced from a poisonous liana called tambo. This is cut up into lengths, washed, and soaked in water, which becomes thus impregnated with the juice.

Before dinner was over, as we looked out on the pool we saw the surface covered with fish floating on their sides, with their gills wide open. The canoe then pushed off, and collected them in great numbers. The poison appeared to have suffocated the fish, although only a small quantity had been poured into the water.

We were as successful in shooting birds, monkeys, and other game, as we were in fishing. One of the Indians used his bow in a curious way, which we had not before seen employed. Throwing himself on his back, he placed his feet lifted up above his body against the bow, and drew the string to his head with both his hands. It was surprising what a correct aim he could thus take. He quickly brought down several birds on the wing at a great height. He showed us also that he could shoot up in the air, and make the arrow fall wherever he pleased. Several times it descended within a few inches of his own head or feet, where it stuck quivering in the ground. We dreaded that it might stick into him; but he laughed at our fears, assuring us that there was not the slightest danger, as he had practised the art from his boyhood, and could perform still more difficult feats. Darkness coming on prevented him from exhibiting them. We spent the night on the driest spot we could find on the banks of the lake. Blazing fires were lighted to keep jaguars, pumas, and boas at a distance.

Next morning, loaded with the spoils of the chase, we commenced our voyage homewards. We were passing a dry, thickly-wooded island, when we caught sight of a number of people among the trees, while fires were burning in the centre of several open spots. We asked Pedro what they were about.

"They are my father's labourers," he said. "You shall come on shore, and we will see how they are employed."

We found a number of Indians and a few blacks busily engaged in various ways; some in making gashes in the stems of trees, under each of which they placed a little clay cup or a shell, into which trickled the sap issuing from the wound. This sap we found was of the consistency of cream. And now we saw for the first time the india-rubber with which we had only before been acquainted when using it to rub out our pencil strokes when drawing at school. The trees which were thus treated had a bark and foliage not unlike that of the European ash; but the trunks were of great size, and shot up to an immense height before throwing off their branches. People with large bowls were going about from tree to tree, and emptying the contents of the little cups into them. From thence they were carried to their camp. Here we found large bowls full of the cream-like sap. The labourers were provided with a number of clay moulds of various shapes, though most of them were in the form of round bottles. These moulds were dipped into the liquid, and then hung up to dry. As soon as one layer was dry the mould was again dipped in, and thus coat after coat was put on. Pedro told us it took several days before the coating was considered sufficiently thick. It was then hard and white. This operation being finished, it was passed several times through a thick, black smoke which issued from fires. We found that this smoke was produced by burning the nuts of the inaja and other palm-trees, by which means the dark colour and softness are obtained. The process is now complete; and the moulds being broken, the clay is emptied out, and the rubber is fit for sale.

The Brazilian india-rubber tree—the Siphonia elastico (caoutchouc)—differs from the ficus which furnishes the india-rubber of Africa and the East Indies. It bears a small flower and circular fruit, with strongly-marked divisions in the rind.

Having left some of our game for provisioning the camp of the india-rubber collectors, we made the best of our way homewards. Evening was coming on. We were still at some distance from home. The sky had become overcast, and rain had begun to fall. It seemed impossible that we should find our way through the forest in the darkness. We entered at length a channel, the land on one side of which was elevated some feet above the water. As we were paddling along it, Pedro proposed that we should land and camp. Just then we caught sight of a fire burning in a shed at some distance from the bank.

"We may there find shelter," said Pedro, "without having the trouble of building huts, which, after all, would not keep out the rain."

We three accompanied him towards the fire. We found two Indians standing near it, both busily employed in concocting some mixture in a large pot simmering over the flames. They were evidently, by the manner in which they received us, displeased at our coming. Pedro, however, told them that we proposed spending the night at their hut; and sent to the canoe for some game, which put them in better humour. He inquired what they were about.

"I see what it is. They are making the wourali poison for tipping the arrows for their bows and blow-pipes. See! we will make them show us the process."

After a little talk with the Indians, they consented to do as he wished. First they showed us some long sticks of a thin vine—the wourali itself. This, with the root of a plant of a very bitter nature, they scraped together into thin shavings. They were then placed in a sieve, and water poured over them into an earthen pot, the liquid coming through having the appearance of coffee. Into this the juice of some bulbous plants of a glutinous nature was squeezed, apparently to serve the purpose of glue. While the pot was simmering, other ingredients were added. Among them were some black, venomous ants, and also a little red ant, which stings severely. They seemed to set great value also on the fangs of two snakes, which, when pounded, were added with much ceremony. One, Pedro told us, was the venomous labarri; and another, the largest among the venomous reptiles in America, known as the curucu, or bushmaster (Lachesis mutus). The Indians, however, call it the couana couchi. It is of the most beautiful colour. Its body is brightly tinted with all the prismatic colours; and sometimes it is to be seen coiled round the branches of a tree, ready to strike its prey. It is allied, I should say, to the fearful fer de lance, which strikes its prey with so rapid and straight a stroke that it is impossible to escape it. A quantity of the strongest Indian red pepper was lastly added; and as the ingredients boiled, more of the juice of the wourali was poured in as was required. The scum having been taken off, the compound remained on the fire till it assumed the appearance of a thick syrup of a deep brown colour. Whether all these ingredients are necessary, I cannot say. Others also, I believe, are occasionally used.

I should have observed that we, as well as the other Indians, were desired to keep at a respectful distance during the operation, as it is considered that even the vapour ascending from the pot is injurious to health. Having been pronounced perfectly made, the syrup was poured into a number of little pots, and carefully covered over with skin and leaves. We observed that the two Indians who manufactured it washed their hands and faces frequently. Pedro purchased several pots which had thus been manufactured, as the poison is an article of commerce throughout the country.

The Indians' hut was at some distance from the shed. After supper we hung up our hammocks, and after turning into them, went to sleep. Little did we think of the fearful danger we ran that night.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

ANOTHER FLIGHT.

Early the next day we arrived at Senhor Pimento's farm. The turtles were turned into a large tank near the house, staked round so as to prevent the creatures from getting out. Here they would live for many months. Most of the Brazilian, as well as many of the natives' houses, have similar reservoirs attached to them, in which turtle are kept alive, to be taken out as required for use.

We found our two sisters seated by the bank of the lake, and little Oria with them. They seemed somewhat agitated. Oria had been out the previous day, they told me, in the forest to gather fruit, and had unwisely wandered on, without waiting for Duppo, who was to follow her. Unaccustomed to that part of the country, she had lost her way. As evening approached, she found an Indian hut, when, the rain coming down, she crept into it for shelter. No one was there. She had thrown a mat over her, and had dropped off to sleep, when she was awakened by hearing several persons talking. Although their dialect was very different from her own, she could understand them. As she listened she became more and more interested. They were speaking of a plot to surprise the whites, and put them to death, so that not a Portuguese should remain in the country. This plan, Oria understood, was very soon to be carried into execution. Fanny and Ellen cross-questioned Oria, and seemed satisfied that they clearly understood her. They then begged me to go and call our father, that we might have his opinion before alarming our host and hostess. I fortunately found him near the spot. He came to the conclusion that Oria's opinion was to be relied on, and at once determined to warn Senhor Pimento.

Soon afterwards I met Duppo. He drew me aside, with a mysterious look. He, too, evidently had something which he wished to communicate. He in vain, however, tried to find words to explain himself. Just then we caught sight of the daughters of our host in the distance. He shook his head at them, and then made signs that no good could come from living with a family who could play with poisonous snakes with impunity; and then pointed to the canoe, and urged us to go away from so dangerous a neighbourhood. I felt sure, however, that he had some other reason, which he was afraid to communicate. I told him so, and I asked him if he did not believe that the natives in the neighbourhood were about to attack the plantation. He looked surprised, evidently not being aware that Oria had already warned my sisters. At last he confessed that such was the case, and implored me earnestly to induce my family to fly. On this I went in search of John, who had talked of going out to shoot. I persuaded him, though not without difficulty, to remain at home, and come and consult with our father. He had, in the meantime, found Senhor Pimento.

"I am afraid that I shall be unable to persuade our Portuguese friend to take precautions against an attack of the natives. He declares that they have always been on good terms with him, and he sees no reason to be alarmed," he observed.

"What, then, do you mean to do, father?" I asked.

"To take the wisest course," he answered. "I have directed Domingos and Antonio to get the montarias ready, and to ascertain the feeling of the Tucuna Indians who came with you. They are, however, anxious to return homewards; and I have promised them one of the canoes, and additional payment, if they will accompany us in our flight to a place of safety. There is an uninhabited island some way down the river, where, I hope, we may remain concealed, should what we apprehend take place. As delay may be dangerous, I have told Senhor Pimento that I purpose starting this evening; and I have urged him to have his own montarias ready, and manned by negroes in whom he can place confidence. I shall be very glad if I can, at all events, induce him to take this precaution, so that, should he see any likelihood of his being attacked, he may, at all events, get on board, and save the lives of his family and himself. We will, as soon as the canoes are ready, carry our own property down to them. But we must take care that we are not observed by the natives, who might attempt to stop us, or watch the direction we take. Your mother and sisters are engaged in packing up, and I hope that soon all will be ready."

Though Senhor Pimento appeared to be incredulous as to the sinister intentions of the natives, I thought that possibly Pedro might be induced to believe them. I therefore went in search of him. I told him what we had heard.

"It may be," he answered. "I have had many black looks of late from those who used at one time to be ready to kiss my feet. I am, therefore, inclined to agree with you that some mischief is intended. I will try and persuade my father to act prudently; but he has been so long accustomed to look down upon the natives, it will be difficult to persuade him that they will dare to injure a white skin. I think your father is very right to escape from hence, though we shall be sorry to part from you."

I thanked Pedro for his kind feelings, and urged him to try and induce his father to act with caution. As all the natives on the estate were absent gathering caoutchouc, our operations were conducted with less difficulty than would otherwise have been the case. Our own Indians had fortunately remained behind. It was settled that two should go in our canoe. John should act as captain of our father's, and Domingos of ours. Our goods were quickly conveyed on board. We found that Senhor Pimento had sent a supply of farinha, as well as several turtles and other provisions, on board each of them, as a mark, he said, of his good-will.

We bade him and Senhora Josefa and their two daughters farewell. Pedro accompanied us down to the canoe.

"Do not fear," he said, "about us. I suspect we shall soon be following you. But should nothing happen to us, forget not those who held you in affectionate esteem."

I am, of course, only translating his words.

The canoes shoved off, and working our paddles, we glided across the lake. It was nearly dark before we reached the entrance to the igarape down which we were to proceed. It was a perfect calm. The tall trees were reflected in the mirror-like expanse of the lake, sprinkled, as it were, with the myriads of stars which shone forth from the clear sky. Here and there a night-bird darted from its covert in search of its insect prey. The tree-crickets had begun to utter their evening notes, and from far and near came forth from the forest the numberless sounds which often to the solitary traveller make the night hideous.

"Oh, what can that be?" we heard Ellen exclaim from the other canoe. "See! see!"

We looked astern, towards the plantation we had left. Bright flames were darting up from among the buildings very instant growing higher, while dreadful cries, coming across the water, struck our ears.

"Oh, I am afraid our friends have delayed too long to escape," exclaimed Arthur. "Could we not go back to help them?"

I asked our father if he would allow us to do so.

He hesitated. "They have their montarias; and should they have been attacked, you can render them no assistance."

Still, I did not like the thought of deserting our friends, and promised, should we not meet with them, to return at once. At last he consented to our going; and turning the head of our canoe, we paddled back towards the shore we had left. We had nearly reached it, when we saw a boat approaching. It might have our friends on board, or might be manned by natives. We approached cautiously, ready to turn round at a moment's notice.

"Who goes there?" I asked.

I was greatly relieved by hearing Senhor Pimento's voice.

"Turn round!" he exclaimed. "Fly! fly! I fear we may soon be pursued. We are all on board. I wish we had followed your advice."

Back we paddled, as fast as we could urge our canoe through the water. Meantime the whole plantation appeared in a blaze—not only the buildings, but the fields and groves of fruit-trees seemed to have been set on fire. We made for the mouth of the igarape, where we found our father's canoe waiting for us. Away we all went together. The cries and shouts of the Indians, as they searched about for the proprietor, reached our ears. We had too much reason to believe that we should be followed. There was sufficient light to enable us to keep in the centre of the water-path. We anxiously looked astern, expecting every moment to see the canoes of our enemies in our wake. In some places the igarape was so narrow, and the trees so completely joined overhead, that we could with difficulty discover our way, and were compelled to paddle at less speed to avoid running among the bushes at its borders. And now, from every side, those sounds which I have so often mentioned burst forth from the forest; yet, though so frequently before heard, their effect was wonderfully depressing. Sometimes, indeed, they sounded so exactly like the cries of natives, that we felt sure we were pursued, and expected every moment to discover our enemies close astern of us.

We continued our night voyage, paddling as fast as we could venture to move through the darkness. Now and then the light penetrated into the centre of the igarape, and allowed us to move faster. Ever and anon flights of magnificent fireflies flitted across the igarape, revealing the foliage on either side, amid which sometimes it seemed as if gigantic figures were stalking about, to seize us as we passed. They were, however, only the stems of decayed trees, or distorted branches bending over the waters.

Thus we went on, hour after hour, not venturing to stop even to rest the weary arms of the paddlers; for we had received too clear a warning of what would be our fate should we fall into the power of the hitherto submissive, but now savage and vindictive natives. It was no slight cause probably which had induced them to revolt. The cruelty and tyranny, the exactions and treachery of the white man had at length raised their phlegmatic natures, and they were about to exact a bitter revenge for long years of oppression and wrong. As in many similar instances, the innocent were doomed to suffer with the guilty; and as far as we had been able to judge, our friend Senhor Pimento had treated those around him with all kindness and consideration.

At length a pale light appeared ahead; and emerging from the dark shades of the igarape, we entered the wide expanse of the Amazon, across which at that instant the moon, rising above the line of forest, cast the silvery light of her bright beams. My sisters, and even the Brazilian girls, uttered exclamations of admiration. We made our way across the lake-like expanse, which was now just rippled with a light breeze; and after an hour's progress, found ourselves approaching a lofty wall of forest. Coasting along it, we entered a narrow channel similar to the one we had quitted. Here and there the moonbeams, penetrating amid the branches, enabled us to find our way till we reached an open spot on the shores of a small lake.

"Here," said our father, "is the place I have selected for our retreat; and as the Indians will believe that we have continued down the stream, there is little probability, I think, of their coming here to search for us. If they do, we may escape through the opposite side, and take one of several channels which will again conduct us into the main stream."

There was sufficient light to enable us to erect rude huts for the accommodation of the ladies of the party. As there was no fear of the glare of the fires shining through the forest, and thus betraying our position, we could venture to light a sufficient number for the protection of the camp against wild beasts.

The next morning found us quietly settled in our new location. My father and mother did their best to comfort Senhor Pimento and his family for the loss of their property.

"Think how much worse it would have been," said my father, "had you, and your wife, and daughters, and son been deprived of your lives! We should be thankful for the blessings we receive."

"See, it is true—it is true," answered our Portuguese friend. "But—"

"Oh, utter not any 'buts,'" observed my father. "'But' is an ungrateful word. It should be discharged from human language."

Ellen had saved all her pets, even her humming-bird; and she and Fanny, with the assistance of their Brazilian friends, had plenty of occupation in arranging accommodation for them.

My father was anxious to have a larger vessel built, fit to navigate the lower part of the river, over whose sea-like expanse strong winds occasionally blow, which our smaller canoes were but ill-calculated to encounter. The first thing, however, to be done, was to erect huts, in which the party might live till the vessel could be got ready, or till they received information that the voyage could be accomplished without risk of being attacked by the rebels.

"I have been thinking, Harry," said Arthur, "that if Houlston and Nyass should come down, and make for Senhor Pimento's farm, would there not be a great risk of their falling into the hands of the rebels, and being killed?"

"Indeed there would," I answered. "I did not think of that. I wish we could send and stop them."

"Would it not be better to go ourselves?" asked Arthur.

"Indeed it would," I exclaimed. "We will see what my father says to it."

I told John, who agreed with me; and we at once determined to proceed up the stream with our Tucuna Indians. We promised them that on finding our friends they should have our canoe in which to perform their homeward voyage. They seemed perfectly satisfied, and we congratulated ourselves on the arrangement we had made. As there might not be room to return in their canoe, John, Arthur, and I determined to go alone. We would not even take Duppo, as he could do little, compared with the other Indians, in working our vessel. Fanny and Ellen were very unhappy at the thoughts of our going. We begged them to look after Duppo, and to give him his lessons in English till we should return.

We started early in the morning, paddling vigorously up the stream, which we found a very different thing to going down with it. At first we kept along the shore, opposite Senhor Pimento's sitio, and then crossed over, that we might have a better chance of seeing our friends, should they be coming down. For some time, when the wind was fair, we rigged a sail, and were thus able to run up with ease against the current. At night we always chose a spot where we could command a view of the river, which had so much fallen by this time that we hoped our friends would keep in it instead of branching off among the channels at the side.

For several days we continued our voyage, till we began to fear that some accident might have happened, or that, not hearing of us, they might have pushed onwards, with the intention of sailing up the Napo. Sometimes we slept under the awning in the montaria; sometimes we built huts, according to our usual custom, on the shore.

One morning, just as we were embarking, John shot a fine paca, which we took on board, and agreed we would roast during our noon-day meal, when our Indians generally lay down to sleep. At the hour we intended, we found a bank, which afforded us a tempting resting-place. Arthur and I agreed to act as cooks; while John, who had been up before daybreak with his gun in the forest, said he would rest till dinner was ready. The chief Indian, Tono, meantime took his blow-pipe and bow, saying he would go into the forest and shoot some more game for supper, our stock having become somewhat scanty; while his companions lay down to sleep in the canoe. John lay down on the grass, away from the fire, though near enough for the smoke to keep the flies at a distance. We had the paca scientifically trussed and spitted, and placed over the fire on two forked sticks. Sometime! Arthur, sometimes I turned the spit. It was my turn to attend to it, and Arthur was sitting near me, when I felt the ground shake, as if some large object had pitched down on it at my side; and what was my horror, on turning my head, to see Arthur, in the claws of an enormous puma, being dragged over the ground. We had imprudently left our guns in the montaria. At the same time John awoke, and quickly sprang into the canoe. I felt for my knife—the only weapon I possessed—when I found that I had left it on the other side of the fire, where John had been lying. As I turned my head for an instant, intending to seize it, I saw another puma stealthily approaching. Arthur did not cry out, but lay with his face on the ground, the better to avoid the stroke of the puma's paw. Horror kept me from moving. The savage beast was dragging Arthur away. Despair seized me. His death seemed inevitable. All passed in a moment. Then I saw John standing up in the montaria, with his rifle pointed at the puma's head. My tongue clove to my mouth. I could not shout out to awake the Indians. The second puma was drawing near. I might be its victim. Just then John's rifle echoed through the forest: the puma which had seized Arthur sprang up in the air, and then down it fell, its claws only a few inches from Arthur's body. I now rushed up to him, and dragged him out of the way of its dying struggles, calling to John to look after the other puma. The Indians had now started to their feet, uttering loud shrieks. The puma stopped just as I fancied it was about to spring at me, and turning round, bounded into the forest. They then, running up to where the puma lay, quickly despatched it with their spears; while John and I lifted up Arthur and carried him to the side of the fire. He was insensible, but groaned heavily. His arm and shoulder were fearfully torn, while his head had received a blow, though comparatively a slight one, or it would inevitably have killed him.

"O John, do you think he will recover?" I exclaimed, as we examined his hurts.

"If we knew how to treat him, he might," answered John; "but I am a very bad doctor, and I am afraid our Indians are not better ones."

"Then, John, we must go back to the island," I exclaimed; "it would be impossible to continue our voyage with Arthur in this state; and though we have been many days coming up, we may hope to get back again in two or three."

John agreed with me, and we explained our intentions to the Indian boatmen. They looked very dissatisfied, especially Tono, who just then returned from his shooting excursion. I had not from the first liked his countenance, and I saw by his gestures that he was endeavouring to incite his companions to disregard our orders.

Though on their side they mustered four stout, athletic fellows, yet John and I had our rifles, and we agreed, for Arthur's sake, to make them do as we thought best. John at once reloaded his rifle; and as soon as he had done so, he told me to hurry down to the boat and seize mine. I got hold of it before the Indians were aware of my intention, and quickly rejoined him. Our first care was to wash and dress Arthur's wounds as well as we could. John covered me with his rifle, while I went down to get the water.

"Now, Harry," he said, "as we do not know when we shall be able to dress another paca, we had better make a good dinner off the portion which has escaped burning during the time you were unable to turn the spit."

Having finished our meal, and secured a portion for Arthur—in the hope he might recover sufficiently to eat it—we handed the rest to our crew. They took it sulkily enough, and returned with it to the montaria.

"We must keep a sharp look-out on these fellows; for, depend upon it, they intend to play us a trick," observed John.

Our chief difficulty was now how to get Arthur into the montaria; for while we were occupied in so doing, they might suddenly attack us.

"You must guard me, Harry, while I lift him up. He is a good weight, but still I can carry him as far as the montaria," observed John.

He did so; while I walked by his side, with my rifle ready for action. When the Indians saw how much Arthur was hurt, they appeared to feel compassion for him, and expressed their sorrow by signs. When we ordered them to shove off, they obeyed at once, and willingly paddled on down the river again.

"I really think, after all, we must have been mistaken in our opinion of those men," said John. "I never like to think harm of our fellow-creatures. Perhaps, after all, they did not understand us."

I was not quite so certain of this. A strong breeze came up the river, and prevented us making as much progress as we had expected. As evening drew on it increased greatly, and signs of a storm appeared in the sky. We were over on the southern shore, and had passed an island near the mainland similar to the one on which our family had lately taken refuge. Just then the tempest burst on us. I had observed an opening in the forest, apparently the mouth of a channel, and towards it we now steered. It was not without difficulty, however, that we could keep the canoe before the fast rising seas. Had we fallen into the trough, we should instantly have been upset.

The Indians seemed well aware of our danger, and paddled steadily. I was thankful when at length we found ourselves is calm water, though the wind still whistled and howled through the trees, which bent their tall boughs over our heads, as if they would come down and crush our bark. We paddled on, therefore, for some distance, till we reached a sheltered spot, where we agreed to land and build a hut, that Arthur might sleep more comfortably than he could in the canoe.

When we told the Indians what we wanted, they immediately set to work, with apparent good-will; and in a short time had erected a neat and comfortable hut, with a bed-place of bamboos. On this, having spread several mats brought from the canoe, we placed Arthur.

"Oh, how kind you are," he whispered.

I was rejoiced to hear him speak.

"I know all about it," he added; "I saw the puma, but had not time to cry out."

The Indians had consumed the remainder of the paca; and as there was still an hour or more of daylight, they proposed going out to catch some fish. I thought of accompanying them, but I did not like to leave Arthur. John then said he would go; but when he got down to the water, the Indians had already shoved off.

"I dare say I may find some game in the woods, and that may be better for Arthur than fish," he observed, coming back.

We saw the canoe at a little distance, the Indians standing ready, some with their harpoons and others with their bows, to strike any fish which might be passing. Now they came nearer to us, and I saw they had struck several fish. With these they returned to the shore, and called to me to come and receive them. Tono then made signs that he would go and get some more, and again they paddled off. I became quite vexed at having entertained unjust suspicions of them. After they had got to a little distance, I saw them strike another fish—evidently a large one, by the time they took to haul it in. Now they went further and further off. At length I lost sight of them.

John had in the meantime gone into the woods with his gun. He returned, just as it was growing dusk, with a couple of birds, which he immediately plucked and prepared for roasting at the fire which I had made up. Our pot for boiling fish had been left in the canoe. We could, therefore, only roast a portion of those just caught by the Indians.

"They ought to be back by this time," observed John, as the shades of night fell over the river.

"The fish seemed to be plentiful, and probably they have been tempted to go further off than they proposed," I observed.

Still we waited and waited, and they did not return. John went a little way along the bank, and shouted loudly; but no answer came to his hail. At length we hung up our hammocks; and having attended to Arthur, added fuel to our fire, and placed True at the entrance of our hut to watch, we lay down to rest. Still, neither John nor I felt much inclined to sleep.

"I am afraid that Tono and his people, after all, have gone off in the canoe," I said at last.

"I suspect so too," he answered; "but yet they were behaving so well, that I did not think they would play us so treacherous a trick."

"We shall soon see, however. I cannot help expecting to hear them return every moment."

We waited and waited, anxiety keeping us awake. Several times I got up to give Arthur a little water, which was all he appeared inclined to take. He was much less feverish than I expected. Towards morning, however, he began to ramble in his speech, and talked about his mother and father, and a young sister who had died. "I thought I should find him," I heard him say. "Oh, that my mother could have lived to have seen him again! Oh, that I could once more be with him! If he were here now, I am sure that I should soon get well." These words were said at intervals, between other less coherent remarks.

Daylight broke before I had closed my eyes. We again looked out, in the faint hope that the Indians might have landed at some spot near us, and encamped for the night; but we could nowhere see them. We were at length convinced that they had made off with our canoe, and deserted us. Had we been by ourselves, our position would have been bad enough; but with poor Arthur in his wounded state, requiring immediate help, it was still worse. The Indians had so long behaved well and faithfully, that we had not supposed them capable of such conduct, although they had showed such discontent on the previous day.

"What must we do?" I asked of John.

"We must either build a canoe or a raft, or wait till we can hail some passing craft, and get taken off," he answered. "Our father will certainly send and look for us by-and-by, when he finds that we do not return; but in the meantime they will all be very anxious, and think that we have been cut off by the rebels."

John and I had fortunately brought our guns and ammunition; so that we were better off than we might have been had the Indians overpowered us, and put us on shore by force. We were, indeed, able to supply ourselves amply with food, but it was not well suited for Arthur. By the end of the day he appeared to have grown worse instead of better. I sat up with him part of the night, forgetting how little sleep I had had for some time. He rambled more than ever. It was painful sometimes to hear him. When he at last dropped to sleep, I began to doze also, till I slipped off my seat, and lay utterly overcome with fatigue on the ground. It was daylight, and I found John lifting me up. I had never seen him look so anxious.

"I thought you had swooned, Harry," he said; "and poor Arthur seems no better. What can we do for him?"

I looked at Arthur. He was in a troubled sleep, was very pale, and uttering incoherent expressions. I would have given anything to have known what to do; but except moistening his lips with water, there was nothing I could think of likely to benefit him. All day long he remained in that state. I sat by his side, while John occasionally went out with his gun. He was never long absent, as he said he could not bear the thought of being away from Arthur, fearing he might be worse. Now and then I got up and added fresh fuel to our fire, that I might make some broth with some of the game John had brought in; thinking that might possibly do good to my poor patient. I was thus employed, when I heard John shout out. Taking a glance at Arthur, I ran forward, when I caught sight of John near the bank, waving his hat, while just beyond him was a montaria, with a number of people in her, among whom I distinguished the tall figure of the recluse standing up and waving in return. The canoe approached the bank just as I reached it; and directly afterwards two other persons jumped up and waved to us, while a dog put his paws on the gunwale and uttered a loud bark. True, who had followed me, barked in return. What was my joy to recognise my two old school-fellows Houlston and Tony. In a couple of minutes they were on shore, and we were warmly shaking hands; while True and Faithful were rubbing noses with equal cordiality.

"Where is my boy?" exclaimed the recluse—or rather Mr Mallet, for so I should properly call him.

"He is with us. He has been sadly hurt. If any one can do him good, I am sure you can, sir," I said.

"Oh, take me to him—show me where he is!" exclaimed Mr Mallet, in an anxious tone. "Hand me out that box there! It contains the few medicines I possess—it may be of use."

"Is it Arthur Mallet he is speaking of?" asked Houlston, following with the chest. "What is the matter with him?"

I told him briefly what had occurred. There were several other persons in the canoe, but I was too much interested in my friends to observe them. We hurried back to the hut where Arthur was lying. The recluse had hastened on before us, and was now kneeling by the side of his young son. He was perfectly calm, but I saw how much he felt, by the expression of his anxious countenance. Arthur opened his eyes and recognised his father.

"This is what I was praying for," he whispered. "I have been very ill, and was afraid of leaving the world without once again seeing you. I am so thankful. If it is God's will, I am now ready to die."

"Oh, but I pray it may not be his will, my boy," said Mr Mallet. "You must live for my sake, to be a comfort and support to me."

"You will not go back, then, and live in the woods by yourself, my dear father?" said Arthur.

"No; I hope to live wherever you do, my boy," he answered.

Arthur's pale countenance brightened, and he pressed his father's hand.

"You must not talk, however, Arthur," said Mr Mallet. "You require rest, and I may find some remedies which may benefit you."

He eagerly looked over the contents of his medicine-chest; and desiring to have some fresh-water brought him, he quickly compounded a draught, which he gave to Arthur. We left the father and son together, while we returned to the canoe. On our way Houlston and Tony recounted to me briefly what had occurred. They had made their way nearly up to the mouth of the Napo, when, not finding us, they had determined to visit every spot on the shore where we were likely to have stopped. They had at length put into the creek, near the abode of the recluse.

"Much to our surprise," said Houlston, "we were accosted in English by a tall white man. On telling him our errand, he informed us that you had long since gone down the stream, and seemed very much surprised and grieved to find that we had not encountered you. He at once volunteered to accompany us, saying that he was greatly interested in your welfare, and could not rest satisfied without assisting in our search for you. We were, of course, very glad to have his company; and going back to his hut, he soon returned with two Indians—a man and his wife—who also wished to come with us. They are there," and Houlston pointed to the canoe.

Just then one of the Indians landed; and though dressed in a shirt and trousers, I recognised him as our friend Maono. He was followed by Illora, also habited in more civilised costume than when we had at first seen her. They greeted me kindly, and inquired, with more warmth than Indians generally exhibit, for their son and daughter. I assured them of their welfare, and of the esteem in which they were held by my family. They appeared to be gratified, and then inquired for the Indians who had accompanied us. Maono was excessively indignant when we told him of the trick they had played us, and threatened to put them to death when he got back to his people. We entreated him, however, for our sakes, not to punish them so severely; indeed, we told him we would rather he pardoned them altogether, as they had been influenced by a desire to return to their people, and perhaps supposed that we might prevent them from so doing. They had till that moment been faithful and obedient, and we assured him that we had had no cause to complain of them.

Some time was spent in talking to Tony and Houlston. On our return to the hut we found Mr Mallet standing in front of it. He said Arthur was improving, but begged that we would remain where we were, as he was unwilling to move him at present. We of course willingly agreed to do what he wished, and forthwith set to work to put up huts for the time we might have to remain on the island. We gave up our hut to Mr Mallet and Arthur, and made a large fire in front of it, while we had another, at which we cooked our suppers. Not for a moment, I believe, did the recluse close his eyes during that night, though most of our party slept soundly. Whenever I awoke I saw him moving to and fro. Once I could not help getting out of my hammock and asking him whether Arthur was improving. "I trust he may be," was the answer. "I shall know to-morrow."

In the morning Arthur certainly appeared better, his wounds having been dressed by the skilful hands of his father. Arthur's state, however, was still too precarious to allow of his removal without risk. Anxious as we were to get back to our friends, we remained, therefore, three days longer on the island. Occasionally John, Houlston, Tony, and I made excursions to the mainland, finding it inhabited, to shoot; while Maono and Illora were very successful in their fishing expeditions.

"Oh, I wish Arthur was well!" exclaimed Tony. "This is just the sort of fun we were looking forward to; and I say, Harry, I hope it is only the beginning of our adventures. Our employers, I know, will very gladly send us up the river to purchase produce, and I dare say you can make arrangements to come with us."

I of course said I should be very glad to do so, though I could not then say what my father intended to do after reaching Para.

We shot a good deal of game—quadruped, four-handed, and feathered. Among the latter, by-the-by, was a curious bird, which we found feeding on the marshy banks of a lake, to which we made our way, attracted by its loud and peculiar cry. Creeping on, we caught sight of it as it stood on the shore. Houlston, who first saw it, declared that it was a large crane. It was about the size of a swan, and getting nearer, I saw that it had an extraordinary horn on the top of its head, surrounded by black and white feathers, while the upper part of its wings had two sharp horns projecting from them—formidable weapons of attack or defence. Houlston fired, but missed. He had not improved as a sportsman since we parted. John at that moment came up, and sent a ball into the bird's neck. On this True and Faithful dashed forward, but still the bird, though unable to run, showed fight with its wings and kept them at bay. It soon, however, sunk down lifeless on the ground. Its plumage was very handsome. The head and neck were of a greenish-brown colour, covered with soft feathers. The breast and thighs were of silvery white, and the back was black, with the exception of the upper part, which was brown, with yellow spots. It was, we found, the anhima of the Brazils, known also as the horned kamichi, or, more learnedly, Palamedea. It is sometimes called the horned screamer, from its loud and wild cry. We laughingly told Houlston that, as he had missed it, he should have the honour of carrying it; which he very good-naturedly did, though it was a considerable load to bear through the forest.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

CONCLUSION.

Next morning Mr Mallet gave us the satisfactory intelligence that Arthur was sufficiently well to bear moving. We therefore at once proceeded on our voyage. Each day after that he improved; and at length we came in sight of the island where we had left our family. We had some, difficulty in finding our way up the narrow channel which led to their camp. As we approached the spot, we saw a good-sized vessel on the stocks, surrounded by a number of persons. One of them, discovering us as we turned the point, shouted to his companions, when, suddenly leaving their work, they advanced towards us with guns in their hands in a threatening attitude. We shouted out to them, when they, perceiving that we were friends, came forward to meet us. Our father was among the first we saw. After he had received us affectionately, and warmly greeted Houlston and Tony, we told him that Mr Mallet had come with us. No sooner did my father see him, than, taking his hand, he exclaimed, "What, my old friend and school-fellow! I little expected to find you out here! Where have you come from?"

"From the wilderness, where I have spent long years of banishment, and from whence my young son succeeded in thus too far dragging me forth. I could not make him lead the life I have so long lived, and I cannot bear the thought of parting from him."

"And what could make you wish to think of doing anything of the sort?" exclaimed my father. "You surprised all your friends by leaving England—so my brother long since wrote me word—and no one has been able to account for it."

"Not account for it!" exclaimed Mr Mallet. "Surely my friends would not have wished me to remain, dishonoured or disgraced, or doomed to a felon's death?"

He looked round as he spoke, and seeing that I was nearer than he had supposed, led my father to a distance. Meantime our mother, Fanny, and Ellen, had come down.

I need not describe our meeting, or the concern Ellen exhibited at hearing of Arthur's accident, and saw his still, pale face as we lifted him out of the canoe. He was, however, able to walk with our assistance. We found the whole party very anxious, as information had reached them that the natives had discovered their retreat and intended attacking them. They had therefore been hurrying on the large montaria with all speed, in hopes of getting away before the arrival of the enemy.

In a short time our father and Mr Mallet arrived. A wonderful change had taken place in the countenance of the latter. He now looked bright and cheerful, and a smile played over his features such as I had never before seen them wear. After being introduced to my mother and sisters, and Senhor Pimento's family, he hurried up to Arthur, and as he threw his arms round his neck tears burst from his eyes, but they were evidently tears of joy.

"But we must not lose time," said my father, pointing to the vessel, at which Domingos and Antonio and the other men were still busily working. We soon had occupation given us—ample to employ our minds as well as our hands. Arthur was taken good care of by my mother and sisters, and I was glad to see him play with Nimble and Toby, who at once knew him. We worked away till dark. The fires were lighted, and by their bright blaze we were still able to continue our labours. Thus we hoped in a couple of days to have our craft ready for launching. It was decked over astern and forward, so as to afford a cabin to the ladies and shelter for our stores, which required protection from the weather. We had large mat-sails and long oars, so that she was well fitted, we hoped, to encounter the heavy seas we were likely to meet with towards the mouth of the mighty river. John suggested that we should erect a stockade near the vessel, behind which we might defend ourselves, and prevent her from being burned, should the rebels make the threatened attack. This we all set to work to do; and as we had an abundance of materials at hand, a fort was soon erected, of sufficient strength, if defended by firearms, to repel any attack the natives were likely to make against it.

"I hope the fellows will come on!" exclaimed Tony, who, with Houlston, was among the most active in the work. "I should like to be engaged in a skirmish. We have had but a tame life of it. I thought we might have seen some of the fun going forward at Santarem; but the whites had all escaped out of the place before we passed by, and the red-skins had possession of it."

"I rather think we were fortunate in escaping those same red-skins!" exclaimed Houlston. "They murdered all the whites they could find, and they would probably have treated us in the same way if we had fallen in with them. If those fellows had attacked us, depend upon it we should have had to fight hard for our lives."

"Perhaps, my friend, we can find some better means of keeping the enemy at bay than those you are taking," observed the recluse. "However, follow your own plan. I trust, for the sake of humanity that it may be labour lost."

I did not hear John's reply, but he continued the work. Scouts were sent out at night to watch the entrance of the channel, lest the rebels might attempt to steal upon us during the hours of darkness; while we all slept with our arms ready for instant use.

I was awakened by hearing a shot fired. Another followed. "The rebels are coming!" I heard my father shouting out. "To your posts, my friends!"

In less than a minute our whole party had assembled, and with my father at our head, we advanced in the direction whence the shots had proceeded. Before we had gone many paces, our two scouts came running up with the announcement that several canoes were approaching the mouth of the igarape. Daylight was just then breaking, though it had not penetrated into the forest. The two Indians were again sent back to watch the further movements of the rebels. We meantime held a council of war, and having conveyed all our stores and provisions within the stockade, retired to it, there to await the enemy. In a short time the scouts came back, reporting that the Indians had landed, and were advancing through the forest.

"Let me now try, my friends, what I can do with these people," said the recluse, standing up in our midst. "I resided among them for some time. They know me, and I trust will be more ready to listen to my arguments than to those with which you are prepared to receive them."

"Pray do as you judge best," said my father.

Senhor Pimento appeared to have little confidence in his success, and addressing his people, entreated them to fight bravely, as the rebels would certainly give them no quarter.

The recluse, without further delay, taking not even a stick in his hand, went forth from the fort, and was soon lost to sight among the shades of the forest. Our Portuguese friends were in a great state of agitation; but my sisters, especially Ellen, remained perfectly calm. I complimented her on her courage. "Oh, I am sure Arthur's father will accomplish what he undertakes," she answered. "I have therefore no fear of an attack."

We, however, could not help looking anxiously for the return of the recluse. The time went slowly by. "I am afraid the wretches will shoot him before he has time to speak to them," observed Senhor Pimento. Pedro, who was of a generous, warm-hearted disposition, proposed that some of us should sally out, and try and overtake him before he reached the enemy.

This was overruled by my father. "Our friend does not act without judgment," he observed. "He knows the character of the people better perhaps than we do. Hark! what is that?" The sound of many voices shouting came faintly through the forest, as from a distance.

"Hurrah! they are coming on to attack us!" cried Tony; "we will give them a warm reception."

"I hope rather that those sounds betoken that the Indians have recognised our friend," observed my father.

Still we waited, many of our party looking out, as if they expected to see the rebels approaching in battle array. At length a single figure appeared emerging from the forest. It was the recluse. He hurried forward towards us, and on entering the fort, took my father, John, and I aside.

"I have not been so successful as I should wish," he said. "They are perfectly ready to let the English, with whom they have no cause of quarrel, go free, but they insist that the Portuguese gentleman and his son should be delivered up to them, though they consent to allow the rest of his family to accompany you if you wish it."

"We cannot accept such terms," said my father at once. "We are resolved to defend our friends with our lives!"

"I thought as much," said Mr Mallet. "I promised, however, to convey their message, in order to gain time. Is there no way by which your friends can escape by the other end of the igarape?"

"There may be, but the Indians know it as well as we do," observed my father, "and would probably lie in wait to catch them. I must ask you to return and inform them that we cannot give up our friends who have hospitably entertained us, and that if they insist on attacking the fort, they must take the consequences."

The recluse once more went back to the insurgent Indians. Pedro, on hearing the message, tried to persuade his father to escape with him in one of the small canoes; but the old gentleman declared at once that he would not make the attempt, as he was sure he should thus only fall into the hands of his enemies.

We now anxiously awaited the return of our friend. An hour passed by, when we saw among the trees a large number of natives approaching the fort, some armed with muskets, but the greater number with bows and arrows.

"We shall have no difficulty in beating back that rabble!" exclaimed Tony. "We must first pick off the fellows with firearms, and the others will soon take to flight."

I did not feel so confident as my friend. The enemy from their numbers alone were formidable, and if well led, might, I feared, easily overpower us. Their numbers increased, and they seemed on the point of making a dash at the fort, when a loud shout was raised behind them. They turned round, looking eagerly in the direction from whence it came. Presently three persons came out from among them. One I recognised as the recluse; but the other two I looked at again and again, and at length was convinced that one was Don Jose, and the other his attendant Isoro. Don Jose, turning to the natives, addressed them in the Lingua Geral, which they all probably understood. They were sufficiently near for us to hear what was said.

"My friends," he exclaimed, "what is it you require? Do you seek the blood of these white people? What will that benefit you? Listen to Pumacagua—a Peruvian cacique—who regards with affection the whole Indian race; who would wish to see them united as one tribe, prosperous and happy, enjoying all the benefits of our magnificent country. If you destroy these people, you will but bring down the vengeance of the powerful whites on your heads. Some among them are my friends. They have never harmed you. They wish you well, I know, and are even now sufferers for the cause of liberty. Be advised by me. Return to your homes, and seek not by force to obtain your rights. It will, I know too well by bitter experience, be in vain. Trust to me and my English friends, who will not rest till we have gained for you the justice you demand."

We saw the leaders among the Indians consulting together. The recluse now went among them, and addressed them earnestly. His and Don Jose's words seemed to have a powerful effect. Greatly to our relief, they began to retire through the forest. Our friends accompanied them to their canoes, while Arthur and I followed at a distance to watch what would next take place. The canoes were launched, and the natives, bidding an affectionate farewell to the recluse, and a respectful one to Pumacagua, leaped into them, and took their departure to the opposite bank of the river. We hurried on to meet our friends, and soon afterwards my father came out of the fort to welcome Don Jose. They greeted each other warmly.

"Finding that I could no longer render service to my countrymen, and that my own life was in constant danger," Don Jose said, "I was on my way down the river to join you, when I saw a large number of canoes drawn up on the beach, a few people only remaining with them. From them I learned what was taking place, and I at once suspected, from what they told me, who it was they were about to attack. I instantly landed, and overtook the main body of insurgents. The rest you know."

Our friends then returned to the fort, and all hands at once set to work to complete our vessel. Tony alone was somewhat disappointed at so pacific a termination to the affair. The additional hands whom Don Jose had brought with him were of great assistance, as they were all expert boat-builders; and in less than a couple of days our craft was launched, and ready to proceed on her voyage. Don Jose and our father had, of course, much to talk about. The former seemed greatly out of spirits at the turn affairs had taken, and in despair of the establishment of true liberty in his country. His affection for my father had induced him to follow us, and he purposed to remain with him at Para till a change of affairs in Peru might enable him to return.

The rainy season was now completely over; though the heat was very great, the weather was fine. At length our new vessel, which we called the Manatee, with the canoes of Don Jose and Houlston in company, emerging from the igarape, made sail to the eastward.

I have not space to describe the voyage. Sometimes we navigated a wide expanse of water, where the river's banks were several miles apart; sometimes we passed amid an archipelago, through narrow channels where the branches of the giant trees almost joined overhead. Sometimes we sailed on with a favourable breeze, and at other times had to lower our sails and take to the oars. For some hundred miles we had the green forest alone in sight on either side, and here and there long extending sand-banks, in which turtles are wont to lay their eggs. As we passed near the shore, vast numbers of wild fowl were seen on the banks, while the river swarmed with living creatures. Dolphins came swimming by, showing their heads above the surface, again to plunge down as they advanced up the stream. Now and then we caught sight of a huge manatee, and we saw alligators everywhere basking on the shores or showing their ugly snouts above the surface. At length a high, flat-topped range of hills appeared on our left hand—the spurs, I believe, of the mountains of Guiana. The river was now for some distance fully ten miles in width; so wide, indeed, that it looked more like an inland sea or the ocean itself than a fresh-water stream. At length we entered one end of the Tajapuru, which is a curious natural canal, extending for one hundred miles or more from the main stream towards the city of Para. It is of great depth in some places, and one hundred yards in width; but in others so narrow that the topmost boughs of the trees almost met over our heads. Often as we sailed along we were hemmed in by two green walls, eighty feet in height, which made it seem as if we were sailing through a deep gorge. Emerging from it, we entered the Para river, and sailing on, were soon in a magnificent sea-like expanse, the only shore visible being that of the island of Marajo, presenting a narrow blue line far away on our left. We passed a number of curious boats and rafts of various shapes and rigs, bringing produce from the villages and farms scattered along the banks of the many vast rivers which pour their waters into the Atlantic. Still, all this time, we were navigating merely one of the branches of the mighty Amazon; for, though we had long felt the influence of the tide, yet the water, even when it was flowing, was but slightly brackish.

At length, entering the sheltered bay of Goajara, we, with thankful hearts, saw the city of Para stretching out before us along the shore, and our vessel was soon moored in safety alongside the quay. Houlston and Tony hurried off to their friends, who came down to welcome us and take us to their house. In most places we should have attracted no small amount of curiosity as we proceeded through the streets. Each of the ladies, as well as Maria and the Indian girl, with two or more parrots and other birds on their shoulders; Nimble sitting on mine with his tail round my neck; Arthur carrying Toby; while Tony and Houlston had a couple of monkeys apiece, which they had obtained on their voyage. Such a spectacle, however, was too common in Para to attract much attention.

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I must now, as briefly as possible, bring my journal to a conclusion. My father here resolved to establish a house of business, of which Mr Mallet was to be made chief manager, with Arthur as his assistant. Maono and Illora, after remaining some time with us, considerably, I hope, to their benefit, returned to their people with the intention of showing them the advantages of civilisation, and imparting a knowledge of the true God and his plan of salvation, which they themselves had obtained. We were thankful that they consented to leave Duppo and Oria with us. The two young Indians made rapid progress in English, besides learning Portuguese; and Ellen and Arthur spared no pains in their endeavours to instruct them in the more important truths of religion. Don Jose and his faithful Isoro returned at length to Ecuador, when peace was once more established in that long distracted province; and the cacique wrote whenever an opportunity occurred for sending a letter down the Amazon. Senhor Pimento and his family after a time returned to their estate, and we never failed to pay them a visit when we went up the river. The rebellion of the natives was at length happily quelled, with less bloodshed than often occurs under similar circumstances.

Houlston, Arthur, Tony, and I made not only one, but several excursions up the mighty river, and throughout many parts of that wonderful region embraced by the Brazils. I might give a long account of our adventures, which were not less interesting than those I have already described. Perhaps I may some day have an opportunity of doing so.

Nimble and Toby lived to the extreme end of monkey existence—the patriarchs of Ellen's ever-increasing menagerie, which was superintended by Domingos when she had more important duties to attend to, and guarded, I may add, by the two attached canine brethren, Faithful and True.

I made two trips to England, each time on board the Inca, still commanded by Captain Byles. The first time Sam was on board, but on our return to Para he obtained his discharge, and settled down in that city, where I often had the pleasure of a long talk with him. "Ah, Massa Harry!" he used to say, "I chose de good part, and God take care of me as he promise; and his promise neber fail. He gib me good t'ings here, and I know him gib me better when I go up dere;" and he pointed to the blue sky, seen through the front of the provision store of which he was the owner.

I am thankful to say that the rest of my friends also, as Sam had done, chose "the good part." Arthur had the happiness of being the means of bringing his father to a knowledge of the truth. His great wish was to make the simple gospel known among the long benighted natives of that magnificent region in which we met with the adventures I have recorded, and, though hitherto opposed by difficulties which have appeared insurmountable, he still cherishes the hope that they may be overcome, and that missionaries with the Bible in their hand may, ere long, be found traversing the mighty Amazon and its tributaries, now ploughed by numerous steamers up to the very foot of the Andes, engaged in opening up to commerce the unmeasured resources of the Brazils. I should indeed be thankful if my tale contributes to draw the attention of the Christian philanthropist to the unhappy condition of the numerous tribes of that interesting country which I have attempted to describe.

THE END