Stables Gordon
In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land

PREFACE

Every book should tell its own story without theaid of "preface" or "introduction". But as in thistale I have broken fresh ground, it is but right andjust to my reader, as well as to myself, to mentionprefatorially that, as far as descriptions go, both ofthe natives and the scenery of Bolivia and the mightyAmazon, my story is strictly accurate.

I trust that Chapter XXIII, giving facts aboutsocial life in La Paz and Bolivia, with an account ofthat most marvellous of all sheets of fresh water inthe known world, Lake Titicaca, will be found ofgeneral interest.

But vast stretches of this strange wild land ofBolivia are a closed book to the world, for they havenever yet been explored; nor do we know aught of thetribes of savages who dwell therein, as far removedfrom civilization and from the benign influence ofChristianity as if they were inhabitants of anotherplanet. I have ventured to send my heroes to thisland of the great unknown, and have at the sametime endeavoured to avoid everything that mightborder on sensationalism.

In conclusion, my boys, if spared I hope to takeyou out with me again to Bolivia in another book, and together we may have stranger adventures thanany I have yet told.

THE AUTHOR.

CHAPTER I-ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON

Miles upon miles from the banks of the mightyriver, had you wandered far away in theshade of the dark forest that clothed thevalleys and struggled high over the mountain-topsthemselves, you would have heard the roar and theboom of that great buzz-saw.

As early as six of a morning it would start, or soonafter the sun, like a huge red-hot shot, had leapt upfrom his bed in the glowing east behind the greeneryof the hills and woods primeval.

To a stranger coming from the south towards theAmazon-great queen of all the rivers on earth-andnot knowing he was on the borders of civilization, thesound that the huge saw made would have beendecidedly alarming.

He would have stopped and listened, and listening, wondered. No menagerie of wild beasts could havesent forth a noise so loud, so strange, so persistent!Harsh and low at times, as its great teeth tore throughthe planks of timber, it would change presently into adull but dreadful basso profundo, such as might havebeen emitted by antediluvian monsters in the agoniesof death or torture, rising anon into a shrill howl orshriek, then subsiding once again into a steady gratingroar, that seemed to shake the very earth.

Wild beasts in this black forest heard the sounds, and crept stealthily away to hide themselves in theircaves and dens; caymans or alligators heard them too,as they basked in the morning sunshine by lakeletor stream-heard them and crawled away into caves,or took to the water with a sullen plunge that causedthe finny inhabitants to dart away in terror to everypoint of the compass.

"Up with the tree, lads. Feed him home," criedJake Solomons loudly but cheerily. "Our pet ishungry this morning. I say, Bill, doesn't she look abeauty. Ever see such teeth, and how they shine, too, in the red sunlight. Guess you never did, Bill.I say, what chance would the biggest 'gator that evercrawled have with Betsy here. Why, if Betsy gotone tooth in his hide she'd have fifty before youcould say 'Jerusalem', and that 'gator'd be cut in two.Tear away, Betsy! Grind and groan and growl, mylass! Have your breakfast, my little pet; why, yourvoice is sweetest music to my ear. I say, Bill, don'tthe saw-dust fly a few? I should smile!

"But see," he continued, "yonder come the darkieswith our matutinal. Girls and boys with baskets, and I can see the steam curling up under Chloe's armfrom the great flagon she is carrying! Look how herwhite eyes roll, and her white teeth shine as she smilesher six-inch smile! Good girl is Chloe. She knowswe're hungry, and that we'll welcome her. Wo, now,Betsy! Let the water off, Bill. Betsy has had hersnack, and so we'll have ours."

There was quietness now o'er hill and dell andforest-land.

And this tall Yankee, Jake Solomons, who wasfully arrayed in cotton shirt and trousers, his brownarms bare to the shoulder, stretched his splendidlyknit but spare form with a sort of a yawn.

"Heigho, Bill!" he said. "I'm pining forbreakfast. Aren't you?"

"That I am," replied Burly Bill with his broadestgrin.

Jake ran to the open side of the great saw-mill.Three or four strides took him there.

"Ah! Good-morning, Chloe, darling! Morning,Keemo! Morning, Kimo!"

"Mawning, sah!" This was a chorus.

"All along dey blessed good-foh-nuffin boys I nocome so queeck," said Chloe.

"Stay, stay, Chloe," cried Jake, "never let yourangry passions rise. 'Sides, Chloe, I calculate suchlanguage ain't half-proper. But how glittering yourcheeks are, Chloe, how white your teeth! There! yousmile again. And that vermilion blouse sets off yourdark complexion to a nicety, and seems just made forit. Chloe, I would kiss you, but the fear of makingBill jealous holds me back."

Burly Bill shook with laughter. Bill was wellnamed the Burly. Though not so tall as Jake, hisframe was immense, though perhaps there was a littlemore adipose tissue about it than was necessary in aclimate like this. But Bill's strength was wonderful.See him, axe in hand, at the foot of a tree! How thechips fly! How set and determined the man's face, while the great beads of sweat stand like pearls onhis brow!

Burly Bill was a white man turned black. Youcouldn't easily have guessed his age. Perhaps he wasforty, but at twenty, when still in England, Bill wassupple and lithe, and had a skin as white as a schoolboy's.But he had got stouter as the years rolled on, and his face tanned and tanned till it tired of tanning, and first grew purple, and latterly almost black. Thesame with those hirsute bare arms of his.

There was none of the wild "Ha! ha!" about Bill'slaughter. It was a sort of suppressed chuckle, thatagitated all his anatomy, the while his merrygood-natured eyes sought shelter behind his cheeks'rotundity.

Under a great spreading tree the two men laidthemselves down, and Chloe spread their breakfast ona white cloth between them, Jake keeping up hisfire of chaff and sweet nothings while she did so.Keemo and Kimo, and the other "good-foh-nuffin boys"had brought their morning meal to the men who fedthe great buzz-saw.

"Ah, Chloe!" said Jake, "the odour of that coffeewould bring the dead to life, and the fish and the beefand the butter, Chloe! Did you do all this yourself?"

"All, sah, I do all. De boys jes' kick about dekitchen and do nuffin."

"Dear tender-eyed Chloe! How clever you are!Guess you won't be so kind to me when you and I getspliced, eh?"

"Ah sah! you no care to marry a poor black gallike Chloe! Dere is a sweet little white missiewaiting somew'eres foh Massa Jake. I be your maid, andshine yo' boots till all de samee's Massa Bill's cheekfoh true."

As soon as Chloe with her "good-foh-nuffin boys"had cleared away the breakfast things, and retiredwith a smile and saucy toss of her curly poll, the menlay back and lit their pipes.

"She's a bright intelligent girl that," said Jake."I don't want a wife or-but I say, Bill, why don'tyou marry her? I guess she'd make ye a tip-topper."

"Me! Is it marry?"

Burly Bill held back his head and chuckled till hewell-nigh choked.

Honest Bill's ordinary English showed that he camefrom the old country, and more particularly from theMidlands. But Bill could talk properly enough whenhe pleased, as will soon be seen.

He smoked quietly enough for a time, but everynow and then he felt constrained to take hismeerschaum from his mouth and give another chuckle ortwo.

"Tchoo-hoo-hoo!" he laughed. "Me marry! Andmarry Chloe! Tchoo-hoo-hoo!"

"To change the subject, William," said Jake, "seein'as how you've pretty nearly chuckled yourself silly,or darned near it, how long have you left England?"

"W'y, I coom over with Mr. St. Clair hisse'f, andRoland w'y he weren't more'n seven. Look at 'enow, and dear little Peggy, 'is sister by adoption asever was, weren't a month over four. Now Rolly 'ebees nigh onto fifteen, and Peggy-the jewel o' theplantation-she's goin' on for twelve, and main tallfor that. W'y time do fly! Don't she, Jake?"

"Well, I guess I've been here five years, and durnme if I want to leave. Could we have a better home?I'd like to see it. I'd smile a few odd ones. Butlisten, why here comes the young 'uns!"

There was the clatter of ponies' feet, and nextminute as handsome a boy as ever sat in saddle, andas pretty and bright a lassie as you could wish tomeet, galloped into the clearing, and reined up theirspirited little steeds close to the spot where the menwere lounging.

Burly Bill stuck his thumb into the bowl of hismeerschaum to put it out, and Jake threw his pipeon the bank.

Roland was tall for his age, like Peggy. But whilea mass of fair and irrepressible hair curled aroundthe boy's sun-burned brow, Peggy's hair was straightand black. When she rode fast it streamed outbehind her like pennons in the breeze. What abright and sunny face was hers too! There was evera happy smile about her red lips and dark eyes.

"You've got to begin to smoke again immediately,"said the boy.

"No, no, Master Roland, not in the presence of yoursister."

"But," cried Peggy, with a pretty show ofpomposity, "I command you!"

"Ah, then, indeed!" said Jake; and soon both menwere blowing clouds that made the very mosquitoeschange their quarters.

"Father'll be up soon, riding on Glancer. This nagthrew Father, coming home last night. Mind, Glanceris seventeen hands and over."

"He threw him?"

"That he did, in the moonlight. Scared at a 'gator.Father says he heard the 'gator's great teeth snappingand thought he was booked. But lo! Jake, at thatvery moment Glancer struck out with both hind-legs-youknow how he is shod. He smashed the 'gator'sskull, and the beast turned up his yellow belly tothe moon."

"Bravo!"

"Then Father mounted mighty Glancer and rodequietly home.

"Peggy and I," he continued, "have ridden alongthe bank to the battlefield to hold a coroner's inqueston the 'gator, but he's been hauled away by hisrelations. I suppose they'll make potato soup of him."

Burly Bill chuckled.

"Well, Peggy and I are off. See you in the evening,Jake. By-by!"

And away they rode, like a couple of wild Indians, followed by a huge Irish wolf-hound, as faithful a dogto his mistress-for he was Peggy's own pet-as everdog could be.

They were going to have a day in the forest, andeach carried a short six-chambered rifle at the saddle.

A country like the wild one in which they dweltsoon makes anyone brave and fearless. They meantto ride quite a long way to-day and not return till thesun began to decline in the far and wooded west. So, being already quite an old campaigner, Roland hadnot forgotten to bring luncheon with him, and somefor bold Brawn also.

Into the forest they dashed, leaving the mighty river, which was there about fifteen miles broad probably,in their rear.

They knew every pathway of that primeval woodland, and it mattered but little to them that most ofthese had been worn by the feet of wild beasts. Suchtracks wind out and in, and in and out, and meetothers in the most puzzling and labyrinthine manner.

Roland carried a compass, and knew how to use it, but the day was unusually fine and sunny, so therewas little chance of their getting lost.

The country in which they lived might well havebeen called the land of perpetual summer.

But at some spots the forest was so pitchy dark, owing to the overhanging trees and wild floweringcreepers, that they had to rein up and allow Coz andBoz, as their ponies were named, to cautiously feelthe way for themselves.

How far away they might have ridden they couldnot themselves tell, had they not suddenly entered akind of fairy glade. At one side it was bounded bya crescentic formation of rock, from the very centreof which spouted a tiny clear crystal waterfall.Beneath was a deep pool, the bottom of which wassand and yellow shingle, with here and there a patchof snow-white quartz. And away from this a littlestream went meandering slowly through the glade, keeping it green.

On the other side were the lordly forest trees, bedraped with flowering orchids and ferns.

Flowers and ferns grew here and there in the rockfaceitself. No wonder the young folks gazed aroundthem in delighted wonder.

Brawn was more practical. He cared nothing forthe flowers, but enjoyed to the fullest extent the clearcool water of the crystal pool.

"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said Roland.

"And oh, I am so hungry, Rolly!"

Rolly took the hint.

The ponies were let loose to graze, Brawn beingtold to head them off if they attempted to take to thewoods.

"I understand," said Brawn, with an intelligentglance of his brown eyes and wag of his tail.

Then down the boy and girl squatted with thenoble wolf-hound beside them, and Roland speedilyspread the banquet on the moss.

I dare say that hunger and romance seldom treadthe same platform-at the same time, that is. Itis usually one down, the other up; and notwithstandingthe extraordinary beauty of their surroundings, for some time both boy and girl appliedthemselves assiduously to the discussion of the goodthings before them; that meat-pie disappearing as ifby magic. Then the hard-boiled eggs, thewell-buttered and flouriest of floury scones, received theirattention, and the whole was washed down withvinum bovis, as Roland called it, cow's wine, or goodmilk.

Needless to say, Brawn, whose eyes sparkled likediamonds, and whose ears were conveniently erect, came in for a good share.

Well, but the ponies, Boz and Coz, had not theremotest idea of running away. In fact they soondrew near to the banqueting-table. Coz laid his noseaffectionately on his little mistress's shoulder andheaved an equine sigh, and Boz began to nibble atRoland's ears in a very winning way.

And the nibbling and the sigh brought them cakesgalore.

Roland offered Boz a bit of pie.

The pony drew back, as if to say, "Vegetarians, weren't you aware?"

But Brawn cocked his bonnie head to one side, knowingly.

"Pitch it this way, master," he said. "I've got acrop for any kind of corn, and a bag for peas."

A strange little rodent creature, much bigger thanany rat, however, with beautiful sad-looking eyes, camefrom the bush, and stood on its hind-legs begging, nota yard away. Its breast was as white as snow.

Probably it had no experience of the genus homo,and all the cruelties he is guilty of, under the title ofsport.

Roland pitched several pieces of pie towards theinnocent. It just tasted a morsel, then back it rantowards the wood with wondrous speed.

If they thought they had seen the last of it, theywere much mistaken, for the innocent returned intwo minutes time, accompanied not only by anotherof his own size, but by half a dozen of the funniestlittle fairies ever seen inside a forest.

"My wife and children," said innocent No. 1.

"My services to you," bobbed innocent No. 2.

But the young ones squawked and squealed, andtumbled and leapt over each other as they fed in amanner so droll that boy and girl had to laugh tillthe woods rang.

Innocent No. 1 looked on most lovingly, but tooknot a morsel to himself.

Then all disappeared as suddenly as they had come.

Truly the student of Nature who betakes himselfto lonely woods sees many wonders!

It was time now to lie back in the moss and enjoythe dolce far niente.

The sky was as blue as blue could be, all betweenthe rifts of slowly-moving clouds. The whisper of thewind among the forest trees, and the murmur of thefalling water, came like softest music to Roland's ears.Small wonder, therefore, that his eyes closed, and hewas soon in the land of sweet forgetfulness.

But Peggy had a tiny book, from which she readpassages to Brawn, who seemed all attention, but keptone eye on the ponies at the same time.

It was a copy of the "Song of Hiawatha", a poemwhich Peggy thought ineffably lovely. Hark to hersweet girl voice as she reads:

 

"These songs so wild and wayward,

These legends and traditions".

 

They appealed to her simple soul, for dearly didshe love the haunts of Nature.

 

"Loved the sunshine of the meadow,

Loved the shadow of the forest,

Loved the wind among the branches,

The rushing of great rivers

Through their palisades of pine-trees."

 

She believed, too:

 

"That even in savage bosoms

There are longings, yearnings, strivings

For the good they comprehend not;

That feeble hands and helpless,

Groping blindly in the darkness,

Touch God's right hand…

And are lifted up and strengthened".

 

—

Roland slumbered quietly, and the day went on apace.

He slept so peacefully that she hardly liked toarouse him.

The little red book dropped from her hand and fellon the moss, and her thoughts now went far, far awayadown the mighty river that flows so sadly, sosolemnly onwards to the great Atlantic Ocean, fed onits way by a hundred rapid streams that melt in itsdark bosom and are seen nevermore.

But it was not the river itself the little maiden'sthoughts were dwelling on; not the strange wild birdsthat sailed along its surface on snow-white wings; not the birds of prey-the eagle and the hawk-thathovered high in air, or with eldritch screams dartedon their prey like bolts from the blue, and bore theirbleeding quarries away to the silent forest; not eventhe wealth of wild flowers that nodded over the banksof the mighty stream.

Her thoughts were on board a tall and darksomeraft that was slowly making its way seaward todistant Pará, or in the boats that towed it. Forthere was someone on the raft or in those boats whoeven then might be fondly thinking of thedark-haired maiden he had left behind.

But Peggy's awakening from her dream of romance, and Roland's from his slumber, was indeed a terribleone.

CHAPTER II-STRANGE ADVENTURES IN THE FOREST-LOST!

Fierce eyes had been watching the little camp foran hour and more, glaring out on the sunnyglade from the dark depths of a forest tree not faroff; out from under a cloudland of waving foliagethat rustled in the balmy wind. Watching, andwatching unwaveringly, Peggy, while she read; watchingthe sleeping Roland; the great wolf-hound, Brawn; and watching the ponies too.

Ever and anon these last would come closer to thetree, as they nibbled grass or moss, then those fierceeyes burned more fiercely, and the cat-like tail of amonster jaguar moved uneasily as if the wild beastmeditated a spring.

But the ponies, sniffing danger in the air, perhaps-whocan tell? – would toss their manes and retreat tothe shadow of the rocks.

Had the dog not been there the beast would havedared all, and sprung at once on one of those nimblesteeds.

But he waited and watched, watched and waited, and at long last his time came. With a coughingroar he now launched himself into the air, theelasticity of the branch giving greater force to hisspring.

Straight on the shoulders or back of poor Bozhe alighted. His talons were well driven home, hiswhite teeth were preparing to tear the flesh from thepony's neck.

Both little steeds yelled wildly, and in nightmarish terror.

Up sprang Brawn, the wolf-hound, and dashed on tothe rescue.

Peggy seized her loaded rifle and hurried after him.

Thoroughly awake now, and fully cognizant of theterrible danger, Roland too was quickly on the sceneof action.

To fire at a distance were madness. He mighthave missed the struggling lion and shot poor Boz, oreven faithful Brawn.

This enormous dog had seized the beast by onehock, and with his paws against the pony wasendeavouring to tear the monster off.

The noise, the movement, the terror, caused poorRoland's head to whirl.

He felt dazed, and almost stupid.

Ah! but Peggy was clear-headed, and a brave andfearless child was she.

Her feet seemed hardly to touch the moss, solightly did she spring along.

Her little rifle was cocked and ready, and, takingadvantage of a few seconds' lull in the fearfulscrimmage, she fired at five yards' distance.

The bullet found billet behind the monster's ear, his grip relaxed, and now Brawn tore him easily fromhis perch and finished him off on the ground, withawful din and habbering.

Then, with blood-dripping jaws he came with hisears lower, half apologetically, to receive the praiseand caresses of his master and mistress.

But though the adventure ended thus happily, frightened beyond measure, the ponies, Coz and Boz, had taken to the bush and disappeared.

Knowing well the danger of the situation, Rolandand Peggy, with Brawn, tried to follow them. ButIrish wolf-hounds have but little scent, and so theysearched and searched in vain, and returned at lastto the sun-kissed glade.

It was now well on towards three o'clock, and asthey had a long forest stretch of at least ten milesbefore them ere they could touch the banks of thegreat queen of waters, Roland determined, with theaid of his compass, to strike at once into thebeast-trodden pathway by which they had come, and makeall haste homewards before the sun should set anddarkness envelop the gloomy forest.

"Keep up your heart, Peggy; if your courage andyour feet hold out we shall reach the river beforedusk."

"I'm not so frightened now," said Peggy; but herlips were very tremulous, and tears stood in her eyes.

"Come, come," she cried, "let us hurry on! Come,Brawn, good dog!"

Brawn leapt up to lick her ear, and taking nothought for the skin of the jaguar, which in morefavourable circumstances would have been borneaway as a trophy, and proof of Peggy's valour, theynow took to the bush in earnest.

Roland looked at his watch.

"Three hours of light and more. Ah! we can doit, if we do not lose our way."

So off they set.

Roland took the lead, rifle in hand, Peggy camenext, and brave Brawn brought up the rear.

They were compelled to walk in single file, for thepathways were so narrow in places that two couldnot have gone abreast.

Roland made constant reference to his littlecompass, always assuring his companion that they werestill heading directly for the river.

They had hurried on for nearly an hour, whenRoland suddenly paused.

A huge dark monster had leapt clear and cleanacross the pathway some distance ahead, and takenrefuge in a tree.

It was, no doubt, another jaguar, and to advanceunannounced might mean certain death to one of thethree.

"Are you all loaded, Peggy?" said Roland.

"Every chamber!" replied the girl.

There was no tremor about her now; and nobackwoods Indian could have acted more coolly andcourageously.

"Blaze away at that tree then, Peg."

Peggy opened fire, throwing in three or four shotsin rapid succession.

The beast, with a terrible cry, darted out of the treeand came rushing along to meet and fight the littleparty.

"Down, Brawn, down! To heel, sir!"

Next moment Roland fired, and with a terribleshriek the jaguar took to the bush, wounded andbleeding, and was seen no more.

But his yells had awakened the echoes of the forest, and for more than five minutes the din of roaring, growling, and shrieking was fearful.

Wild birds, no doubt, helped to swell the pandemonium.

After a time, however, all was still once more, andthe journey was continued in silence.

Even Peggy, usually the first to commence aconversation, felt in no mood for talking now.

She was very tired. Her feet ached, her brow washot, and her eyes felt as if boiling in their sockets.

Roland had filled his large flask at the littlewaterfall before leaving the glade, and he now made herdrink.

The draught seemed to renew her strength, and shestruggled on as bravely as ever.

—

Just two and a half hours after they had left theforest clearing, and when Roland was holding outhopes that they should soon reach the road by thebanks of the river, much to their astonishment theyfound themselves in a strange clearing which theyhad never seen before.

The very pathway ended here, and though the boywent round and round the circle, he could find noexit.

To retrace his steps and try to find out the rightpath was the first thought that occurred to Roland.

This plan was tried, but tried in vain, and so-wearyand hopeless now beyond measure-theyreturned to the centre of the glade and threwthemselves down on the soft green moss.

Lost! Lost!

The words kept repeating themselves in poorRoland's brain, but Peggy's fatigue was so completethat she preferred rest even in the midst of dangerto going farther.

Brawn, heaving a great sigh, laid himself downbeside them.

The warm day wore rapidly to a close, and at lastthe sun shimmered red through the forest trees.

Then it sank.

The briefest of twilight, and the stars shone out.

Two hours of starlight, then solemnly uprose theround moon and flooded all the glade, draping thewhispering trees in a blue glare, beautifullyetherealizing them.

Sorrow bringeth sleep.

"Good-night, Rolly! Say your prayers," murmured Peggy.

There were stars in the sky. There were stars toothat flitted from bush to bush, while the winds mademurmuring music among the lofty branches.

Peggy was repeating to herself lines that she hadread that very day:

 

…"the firefly Wah-wah-tay-see,

Flitting through the dusk of evening,

With the twinkle of its candle,

Lighting up the brakes and bushes.

 

* * * * *

 

Wah-wah-tay-see, little firefly,

Little, flitting, white-fire insect,

Little dancing, white-fire creature,

Light me with your little candle.

Ere upon my bed I lay me,

Ere in sleep I close my eyelids."

 

—

The forest was unusually silent to-night, but everand anon might be heard some distant growl showingthat the woods sheltered the wildest beasts. Oran owl with mournful cry would flap its silent wingsas it flew across the clearing.

But nothing waked those tired and weary sleepers.

So the night wore on and on. The moon hadreached the zenith, and was shining now with alustre that almost rivalled daylight itself.

It must have been well on towards two o'clock inthe morning when Brawn emitted a low and threatening growl.

This aroused both Roland and Peggy, and the formerat once seized his rifle.

Standing there in the pale moonlight, not twentyyards away, was a tall, dark-skinned, and powerful-lookingIndian. In his right hand he held a spear orsomething resembling one; in his left a huge catapultor sling. He was dressed for comfort-certainly notfor ornament. Leggings or galligaskins covered hislower extremities, while his body was wrapped in ablanket. He had no head-covering, save a mattedmass of hair, in which were stuck a few feathers.

Roland took all this in at a glance as he seized hisrifle and prepared for eventualities. According to thetraditional painter of Indian life and customs theproper thing for this savage to have said is "Ugh!"He said nothing of the sort. Nor did he give ventto a whoop and yell that would have awakened thewild birds and beasts of the forest and every echo farand near.

"Who goes there?" cried Roland, raising his gun.

"No shootee. No shootee poor Indian man. Ifriendee you. Plenty friendee."

Probably there was a little romance about Roland, for, instead of saying: "Come this way then, old chap, squat down and give us the news," he said sternly:

"Advance, friend!"

But the Indian stood like a statue.

"No undahstandee foh true."

And Roland had to climb down and say simply:

"Come here, friend, and speak."

Brawn rushed forward now, but he looked a terror, for his hair was all on end like a hyena's, and hegrowled low but fiercely.

"Down, Brawn! It's a good man, Brawn."

Brawn smelt the Indian's hand, and, seemingsatisfied, went back to the spot where Peggy sat wonderingand frightened.

She gathered the great dog to her breast and huggedand kissed him.

"What foh you poh chillun sleepee all in de woodso? S'pose wild beas' come eatee you, w'at den you do?"

"But, friend," replied Roland, "we are far fromBurnley Hall, our home, and we have lost everything.We have lost our ponies, lost our way, and lost ourselves."

"Poh chillun!" said this strange being. "But nowgo sleepee foh true. De Indian he lie on blanket. Hewatchee till de big sun rise."

"Can we trust him, Peggy?"

"Oh yes, yes!" returned Peggy. "He is a dear, good man; I know by his voice."

In ten minutes more the boy and girl were fastasleep.

The Indian watched.

And Brawn watched the Indian.

—

When the sun went down on the previous evening, and there were no signs of the young folks returning, both Mr. St. Clair and his wife became very uneasyindeed.

Then two long hours of darkness ensued before themoon sailed up, first reddening, then silvering, thewavelets and ripples on the great river.

"Surely some evil must have befallen them," moanedMrs. St. Clair. "Oh, my Roland! my son! I may neversee you more. Is there nothing can be done? Tellme! Tell me!"

"We must trust in Providence, Mary; and it iswrong to mourn. I doubt not the children are safe, although perhaps they have lost their way in thewoods."

Hours of anxious waiting went by, and it wasnearly midnight. The house was very quiet and still, for the servants were asleep.

Burly Bill and Jake had mounted strong horses atmoonrise, and gone off to try to find a clue. But theyknew it was in vain, nay, 'twould have been sheermadness to enter the forest now. They coo-eed overand over again, but their only answer was the echoingshriek of the wild birds.

They were just about to return after giving theirlast shrill coo-ee-ee, when out from the moonlit forest, with a fond whinny, sprang Coz and Boz.

Jake sprang out of his saddle, throwing his bridleto Bill.

In the bright moonlight, Jake could see at oncethat there was something wrong. He placed his handon Boz's shoulder. He staggered back as he withdrew it.

"Oh, Bill," he cried, "here is blood, and the pony istorn and bleeding! Only a jaguar could have donethis. This is terrible."

"Let us return at once," said Bill, who had a rightsoft heart of his own behind his burly chest.

"But oh!" he added, "how can we break the newsto Roland's parents?"

"We'll give them hope. Mrs. St. Clair must knownothing yet, but at early dawn all the ranch must bearoused, and we shall search the forest for miles andmiles."

—

Jake, after seeing the ponies safe in their stable, left Bill to look to Boz's wounds, while withSt. Clair's leave he himself set off at a round gallop toget assistance from a neighbouring ranch.

Day had not yet broken ere forty good men andtrue were on the bridle-path and tearing along theriver's banks. St. Clair himself was at their head.

I must leave the reader to imagine the joy of all theparty when soon after sunrise there emerged fromthe forest, guided by the strange Indian, Roland,Peggy, and noble Brawn, all looking as fresh as thedew on the tender-eyed hibiscus bloom or the wildflowers that nodded by the river's brim.

"Wirr-rr-r-wouff, wouff, wouff!" barked Brawn,as he bounded forward with joy in every feature ofhis noble face, and I declare to you there seemed tobe a lump in his throat, and the sound of his barkingwas half-hysterical.

St. Clair could not utter a word as he fondlyembraced the children. He pretended to scold a little, but this was all bluff, and simply a ruse to keep backthe tears.

But soft-hearted Burly Bill was less successful.He just managed to drop a little to the rear, and itwas not once only that he was fain to draw the sleeveof his rough jacket across his eyes.

—

But now they are mounted, and the horses' headsare turned homewards. Peggy is seated in front ofBurly Bill, of whom she is very fond, and Roland issaddled with Jake. The Indian and Brawn ran.

Poor Mrs. St. Clair, at the big lawn gate, gazingwestward, sees the cavalcade far away on the horizon.

Presently, borne along on the morning breeze comevoices raised in a brave and joyous song:

 

"Down with them, down with the lords of the forest".

 

And she knows her boy and Peggy are safe.

"Thank God for all his mercies!" she saysfervently, then, woman-like, bursts into tears.

CHAPTER III-BURNLEY HALL, OLD AND NEW

I have noticed more than once that although thelife-story of some good old families in Englandmay run long stagnant, still, when one importantevent does take place, strange thing after strangething may happen, and the story rushes on withheedless speed, like rippling brooklets to the sea.

The St. Clairs may have been originally a Scottishfamily, or branch of some Highland clan, but theyhad been settled on a beautiful estate, far away in thewilds of Cornwall, for over one hundred and fifty years.

Stay, though, we are not going back so far as that.Old history, like old parchment, has a musty odour.Let us come down to more modern times.

When, then, young Roland's grandfather died, anddied intestate, the whole of the large estate devolvedupon his eldest son, with its fat rentals of fully fourthousand a-year. Peggy St. Clair, our little heroine, was his only child, and said to be, even in her infancy, the very image of her dead-and-gone mother.

No wonder her father loved her.

But soon the first great event happened in thelife-story of the St. Clairs. For, one sad day Peggy'sfather was borne home from the hunting-fieldgrievously wounded.

All hope of recovery was abandoned by the doctorshortly after he had examined his patient.

Were Herbert to die intestate, as his father haddone, his second brother John, according to the oldlaw, could have stepped into his shoes and becomelord of Burnley Hall and all its broad acres.

But, alive to the peril of his situation, which thesurgeon with tears in his eyes pointed out to him, thedying man sent at once for his solicitor, and a willwas drawn up and placed in this lawyer's hands, andmoreover he was appointed one of the executors.This will was to be kept in a safe until Peggy shouldbe seventeen years of age, when it was to be openedand read.

I must tell you that between the brothers Herbertand John there had long existed a sort of blood-feud, and it was as well they never met.

Thomas, however, was quickly at his woundedbrother's bedside, and never left it until-

"Clay-cold Death had closed his eye".

The surgeon had never given any hopes, yet duringthe week that intervened between the terrible accidentand Herbert's death there were many hours in whichthe doomed man appeared as well as ever, thoughscarce able to move hand or foot. His mind wasclear at such times, and he talked much with Thomasabout the dear old times when all were young.

Up till now this youngest son and brother, Thomas, had led rather an uneasy and eventful life. Nothingprospered with him, though he had tried most things.

He was married, and had the one child, Roland, towhom the reader has already been introduced.

"Now, dear Tom," said Herbert, one evening afterhe had lain still with closed eyes for quite a longtime, and he placed a white cold hand in that of hisbrother as he spoke, "I am going to leave you. Wehave always been good friends and loved each otherwell. All I need tell you now, and I tell you inconfidence, is that Peggy, at the age of seventeen, will be my heir, with you, dear Tom, as herguardian."

Tom could not reply for the gathering tears. Hejust pressed Herbert's hand in silence.

"Well," continued the latter, "things have not goneover well with you, I know, but I have often heardyou say you could do capitally if you emigrated to analmost new land-a land you said figuratively 'flowingwith milk and honey'. I confess I made no attemptto assist you to go to the great valley of the Amazon.It was for a selfish reason I detained you. My brotherJohn being nobody to me, my desire was to have you near."

He paused, almost exhausted, and Tom held a littlecup of wine to his lips.

Presently he spoke again.

"My little Peggy!" he moaned. "Oh, it is hard, hard to leave my darling!

"Tom, listen. You are to take Peggy to yourhome. You are to care for her as the apple ofyour eye. You must be her father, your wife hermother."

"I will! I will! Oh, brother, can you doubt me!"

"No, no, Tom. And now you may emigrate. Ileave you thirty thousand pounds, all my depositaccount at Messrs. Bullion & Co.'s bank. This is forPeggy and you. My real will is a secret at present, and that which will be read after-I go, is a mereepitome. But in future it will be found that I havenot forgotten even John."

Poor Peggy had run in just then, and perched uponthe bed, wondering much that her father should liethere so pale and still, and make no attempt to rompwith her. At this time her hair was as yellow as thefirst approach of dawn in the eastern sky.

—

That very week poor Squire St. Clair breathedhis last.

John came to the funeral with a long face anda crape-covered hat, looking more like a mute thananything else.

He sipped his wine while the epitomized will wasread; but a wicked light flashed from his eyes, andhe ground out an oath at its conclusion.

All the information anyone received was that thoughsums varying from five hundred pounds to a thousandwere left as little legacies to distant relations and toJohn, as well as douceurs to the servants, the wholeof the estates were willed in a way that could notbe divulged for many a long year.

John seized his hat, tore from it the crape, anddashed it on the floor. The crape on his arm followedsuit. He trampled on both and strode away slammingthe door behind him.

Years had flown away.

Tom and his wife had emigrated to the banks ofthe Amazon. They settled but a short time at or nearone of its mouths, and then Tom, who had no lackof enterprise, determined to journey far, far into theinterior, where the land was not so level, wheremountains nodded to the moon, and giant forestsstretched illimitably to the southward and west.

At first Tom and his men, with faithful Bill asoverseer, were mere squatters, but squatters by thebanks of the queen of waters, and in a far morelovely place than dreams of elfinland. Labour wasvery cheap here, and the Indians soon learned fromthe white men how to work.

Tom St. Clair had imported carpenters and artificersof many sorts from the old country, to say nothingof steam plant and machinery, and that greatresounding steel buzz-saw.

Now, although not really extravagant, he had aneye for the beautiful, and determined to build himselfa house and home that, although not costing a deal, would be in reality a miniature Burnley Hall. Andwhat a truly joyous time Peggy and her cousin, oradopted brother, had of it while the house wasgradually being built by the busy hands of the trainedIndians and their white brethren!

Not they alone, but also a boy called Dick Temple, whose uncle was Tom St. Clair's nearest neighbour,That is, he lived a trifle over seven miles higher upthe river. Dick was about the same age and build asRoland.

There was a good road between Temple's ranch andTom St. Clair's place, and when, after a time, Tomand Peggy had a tutor imported for their own especialbenefit, the two families became very friendly indeed.

Dick Temple was a well-set-up and really braveand good-looking lad. Little Peggy averred thatthere never had been, or never could be, another boyhalf so nice as Dick.

But I may as well state here at once and be donewith it-Dick was simply a reckless, wild dare-devil.Nothing else would suffice to describe young Dick'scharacter even at this early age. And he soon taughtRoland to be as reckless as himself.

—

Time rolled on, and the new Burnley Hall wasa fait accompli.

The site chosen by Tom for his home by the riverwas a rounded and wooded hill about a quarter ofa mile back from the immediate bank of the stream.But all the land between the hill and the Amazonwas cultivated, and not only this, but up and downthe river as well for over a mile, for St. Clair wantedto avoid too close contact with unfriendly alligators, and these scaly reptiles avoid land on which crops aregrowing.

The tall trees were first and foremost cleared offthe hill; not all though. Many of the most beautifulwere left for effect, not to say shade, and it waspleasant indeed to hear the wind whispering through theirfoliage, and the bees murmuring in their branches,in this flowery land of eternal summer.

Nor was the undergrowth of splendid shrubs andbushes and fruit-trees cleared away. They werethinned, however, and beautiful broad winding walksled up through them towards the mansion.

The house was one of many gables; altogetherEnglish, built of quartz for the most part, andhaving a tower to it of great height.

From this tower one could catch glimpses of themost charming scenery, up and down the river, andfar away on the other shore, where forests swam inthe liquid air and giant hills raised their blue topsfar into the sky.

So well had Tom St. Clair flourished since takingup his quarters here that his capital was returninghim at least one hundred per cent, after allowing forwear and tear of plant.

I could not say for certain how many white men hehad with him. The number must have been close onfifty, to say nothing of the scores and scores ofIndians.

Jake Solomons and Burly Bill were his overseers, but they delighted in hard work themselves, as wehave already seen. So, too, did Roland's fatherhimself, and as visitors to the district were few, you maybe certain he never wore a London hat nor eveningdress.

Like those of Jake and Bill, his sleeves were alwaysrolled up, and his muscular arms and brave square faceshowed that he was fit for anything. No, a Londonhat would have been sadly out of place; but thebroad-brimmed Buffalo Bill he wore became himadmirably.

That big buzz-saw was a triumph. The clearing ofthe forest commenced from close under the hill wherestood the mansion, and strong horses and bullockswere used to drag the gigantic trees towards the mill.

Splendid timber it was!

No one could have guessed the age of these treesuntil they were cut down and sawn into lengths, when their concentric rings might be counted.

The saw-mill itself was a long way from the mansion-house, with the villages for the whites and Indiansbetween, but quite separate from each other.

The habitations of the whites were raised on pileswell above the somewhat damp ground, and steps ledup to them. Two-roomed most of them were, but thatof Jake was of a more pretentious character. So, too, was Burly Bill's hut.

It would have been difficult to say what the Indianslived on. Cakes, fruit, fish, and meat of any kindmight form the best answer to the question. Theyate roasted snakes with great relish, and many of thesewere of the deadly-poisonous class. The heads werecut off and buried first, however, and thus all dangerwas prevented. Young alligators were frequentlycaught, too, and made into a stew.

The huts these faithful creatures lived in were chieflycomposed of bamboo, timber, and leaves. Sometimesthey caught fire. That did not trouble the savagesmuch, and certainly did not keep them awake atnight. For, had the whole village been burned down, they could have built another in a surprisingly shorttime.

When our hero and heroine got lost in the greatprimeval forest, Burnley Hall was in the most perfectand beautiful order, and its walks, its flower-garden, and shrubberies were a most pleasing sight. All wasunder the superintendence of a Scotch gardener, whomSt. Clair had imported for the purpose.

By this time, too, a very large portion of theadjoining forest had been cut down, and the land onwhich those lofty trees had grown was undercultivation.

If the country which St. Clair had made his homewas not in reality a land flowing with milk andhoney, it yielded many commodities equally valuable.Every now and then-especially when the river wasmore or less in flood-immense rafts were sent downstream to distant Pará, where the valuable timberfound ready market.

Several white men in boats always went in chargeof these, and the boats served to assist in steering, andtowing as well.

These rafts used often to be built close to the riverbefore an expected rising of the stream, which, whenit did come, floated them off and away.

But timber was not the only commodity that St. Clairsent down from his great estate. There weresplendid quinine-trees. There was coca and cocoa, too.

There was a sugar plantation which yielded the bestresults, to say nothing of coffee and tobacco, Brazil-nutsand many other kinds of nuts, and last, but notleast, there was gold.

This latter was invariably sent in charge of areliable white man, and St. Clair lived in hope that hewould yet manage to position a really paying gold-mine.

More than once St. Clair had permitted Roland andPeggy to journey down to Pará on a great raft. Butonly at the season when no storms blew. They hadan old Indian servant to cook and "do" for them, andthe centre of the raft was hollowed out into a kindof cabin roofed over with bamboo and leaves. Stepsled up from this on to a railed platform, which wascalled the deck.

Burly Bill would be in charge of boats and all, andin the evenings he would enter the children's cabin tosing them songs and tell them strange, weird tales offorest life.

He had a banjo, and right sweetly could he play.Old Beeboo the Indian, would invariably light hismeerschaum for him, smoking it herself for a goodfive minutes first and foremost, under pretence ofgetting it well alight.

Beeboo, indeed, was altogether a character. BothMr. and Mrs. St. Clair liked her very much, however, for she had been in the family, and nursed both Peggyand Roland, from the day they had first come to thecountry. As for her age, she might have been anyage between five-and-twenty and one hundred and ten.She was dark in skin-oh, no! not black, but moreof copper colour, and showed a few wrinkles at earlymorn. But when Beeboo was figged out in her nicestwhite frock and her deep-blue or crimson blouse, with her hair hanging down in two huge plaits, then, with the smile that always hovered aroundher lips and went dancing away up her face till itflickered about her eyes, she was very pleasantindeed. The wrinkles had all flown up to the moonor somewhere, and Beeboo was five-and-twenty once again.

I must tell you something, however, regarding her, and that is the worst. Beeboo came from a race ofcannibals who inhabit one of the wildest and almostinaccessible regions of Bolivia, and her teeth had beenfiled by flints into a triangular shape, the form bestadapted for tearing flesh. She had been broughtthence, along with a couple of wonderful monkeysand several parrots, when only sixteen, by an Englishtraveller who had intended to make her a presentto his wife.

Beeboo never got as far as England, however. Shehad watched her chance, and one day escaped to thewoods, taking with her one of the monkeys, who wasan especial favourite with this strange, wild girl.

She was frequently seen for many years after this.It was supposed she had lived on roots and rats-I'mnot joking-and slept at night in trees. She managedto clothe herself, too, with the inner rind of the barkof certain shrubs. But how she had escaped deathfrom the talons of jaguars and other wild beasts noone could imagine.

Well, one day, shortly after the arrival of St. Clair, hunters found the jaguar queen, as they called her, lying in the jungle at the foot of a tree.

There was a jaguar not far off, and a huge pieceof sodden flesh lay near Beeboo's cheek, undoubtedlyplaced there by this strange, wild pet, while closebeside her stood a tapir.

Beeboo was carried to the nearest village, and thetapir followed as gently as a lamb. My informantdoes not know what became of the tapir, but Beeboowas tamed, turned a Christian too, and never evincedany inclination to return to the woods.

Yet, strangely enough, no puma nor jaguar wouldever even growl or snarl at Beeboo.

These statements can all be verified.

CHAPTER IV-AWAY DOWN THE RIVER

Before we start on this adventurous cruise, letus take a peep at an upland region to thesouth of the Amazon. It was entirely surroundedby caoutchouc or india-rubber trees, and it was whilewandering through this dense forest with Jake, andmaking arrangements for the tapping of those trees, the juice of which was bound to bring the St. Clairsmuch money, that they came upon the rockytable-land where they found the gold.

This was some months after the strange Indian hadfound the "babes in the wood", as Jake sometimescalled Roland and Peggy.

"I say, sir, do you see the quartz showing whiteeverywhere through the bloom of those beautifulflowers?"

"Ugh!" cried St. Clair, as a splendidly-colouredbut hideous large snake hissed and glided awayfrom between his feet. "Ugh! had I tramped onthat fellow my prospecting would have been all ended."

"True, sir," said Jake; "but about the quartz?"

"Well, Jake."

"Well, Mr. St. Clair, there is gold here. I do notsay that we've struck an El Dorado, but I amcertain there is something worth digging for in thisregion."

"Shall we try? You've been in Australia. Whatsay you to a shaft?"

"Good! But a horizontal shaft carried into thebase of this hill or hummock will, I think, do for thepresent. It is only for samples, you know."

And these samples had turned out so well thatSt. Clair, after claiming the whole hill, determinedto send Jake on a special message to Pará to establisha company for working it.

He could take no more labour on his own head, for really he had more than enough to do with hisestate.

No white men were allowed to work at the shaft.Only Indians, and these were housed on the spot.So that the secret was well kept.

And now the voyage down the river was to beundertaken, and a most romantic cruise it turned outto be.

St. Clair had ordered a steamer to be built for himin England and sent out in pieces. She was calledThe Peggy, after our heroine. Not very large-butlittle over the dimensions of a large steam-launch,in fact-but big enough for the purpose of towingalong the immense raft with the aid of the current.

Jake was to go with his samples of golden sandand his nuggets; Burly Bill, also, who was captainof the Peggy; and Beeboo, to attend to the youngstersin their raft saloon. Brawn was not to be denied; and last, but not least, went wild Dick Temple.

The latter was to sleep on board the steamer, buthe would spend most of his time by day on the raft.

All was ready at last. The great raft was floatedand towed out far from the shore. All the plantationhands, both whites and Indians, were gathered on thebanks, and gave many a lusty cheer as the steamerand raft got under way.

The last thing that those on shore heard was thesonorous barking of the great wolf-hound, Brawn.

There was a ring of joy in it, however, that broughthope to the heart of both Tom St. Clair and hiswinsome wife.

Well, to our two heroes and to Peggy, not tomention Brawn and Burly Bill, the cruise promisedto be all one joyous picnic, and they set themselves tomake the most of it.

But to Jake Solomons it presented a more seriousside. He was St. Clair's representative and trustedman, and his business was of the highest importance, and would need both tact and skill.

However, there was a long time to think about allthis, for the river does not run more than three milesan hour, and although the little steamer could hurrythe raft along at probably thrice that speed, still longweeks must elapse before they could reach their destination.

As far as the raft was concerned, this would notbe Pará. She would be grounded near to a town farhigher up stream, and the timber, nuts, spices, andrubber taken seaward by train.

In less than two days everyone had settled down tothe voyage.

The river was very wide and getting wider, andsoon scarcely could they see the opposite shore, exceptas a long low green cloud on the northern horizon.

Life on board the raft was for a whole weeka most uneventful dreamy sort of existence. Oneday was remarkably like another. There was theblue of the sky above, the blue on the river's greatbreast, broken, however, by thousands of lines ofrippling silver.

There were strangely beautiful birds flying tackand half-tack around the steamer and raft, wavingtrees flower-bedraped-the flowers trailing andcreeping and climbing everywhere, and even dipping theirsweet faces in the water, – flowers of every hue of therainbow.

Dreamy though the atmosphere was, I would nothave you believe that our young folks relapsed intoa state of drowsy apathy. Far from it. They werevery happy indeed. Dick told Peggy that their life,or his, felt just like some beautiful song-waltz, andthat he was altogether so happy and jolly that hehad sometimes to turn out in the middle watch to laugh.

Peggy had not to do that.

In her little state-room on one side of the cabin, andin a hammock, she slept as soundly as the traditionaltop, and on a grass mat on the deck, with a footstoolfor a pillow, slumbered Beeboo.

Roland slept on the other side, and Brawn guardedthe doorway at the foot of the steps.

Long before Peggy was awake, and every morningof their aquatic lives, the dinghy boat took the boysa little way out into mid-stream, and they strippedand dived, enjoyed a two-minutes' splash, and gotquickly on board again.

The men always stood by with rifles to shoot anyalligator that might be seen hovering nigh, and morethan once reckless Dick had a narrow escape.

"But," he said one day in his comical way, "onehas only once to die, you know, and you might aswell die doing a good turn as any other way."

"Doing a good turn?" said Roland enquiringly.

"Certainly. Do you not impart infinite joy to acayman if you permit him to eat you?"

The boys were always delightfully hungry half anhour before breakfast was served.

And it was a breakfast too!

Beeboo would be dressed betimes, and have the clothlaid in the saloon. The great raft rose and fell witha gentle motion, but there was nothing to hurt, sothat the dishes stuck on the cloth without any guard.

Beeboo could bake the most delicious of scones andcakes, and these, served up hot in a clean white towel, were most tempting; the butter was of the best andsweetest. Ham there was, and eggs of the gull, with fresh fried fish every morning, and fragrantcoffee.

Was it not quite idyllic?

The forenoon would be spent on deck under theawning; there was plenty to talk about, and booksto read, and there was the ever-varying panorama togaze upon, as the raft went smoothly gliding on, andon, and on.

Sometimes they were in very deep water close tothe bank, for men were always in the chains takingsoundings from the steamer's bows.

Close enough to admire the flowers that drapedthe forest trees; close enough to hear the wild lilt ofbirds or the chattering of monkeys and parrots; closeenough to see tapirs moving among the trees, watched, often enough, by the fierce sly eyes of ghastlyalligators, that flattened themselves against rocks or bitsof clay soil, looking like a portion of the ground, but warily waiting until they should see a chance toattack.

There cannot be too many tapirs, and there cannotbe too few alligators. So our young heroes thoughtit no crime to shoot these squalid horrors whereverseen.

But one forenoon clouds banked rapidly up in thesouthern sky, and soon the sun was hidden in sulphurousrolling banks of cumulus.

No one who has ever witnessed a thunderstorm inthese regions can live long enough to forget it.

For some time before it came on the wind had gonedown completely. In yonder great forest there couldnot have been breeze or breath enough to stir thepollen on the trailing flowers. The sun, too, seemedshorn of its beams, the sky was no longer blue, but ofa pale saffron or sulphur colour.

It was then that giant clouds, like evil beasts benton havoc and destruction, began to show head abovethe horizon. Rapidly they rose, battalion on battalion, phalanx on phalanx.

There were low mutterings even now, and flashes offire in the far distance. But it was not until the skywas entirely overcast that the storm came on in dreadand fearful earnest. At this time it was so dark, thatdown in the raft saloon an open book was barelyvisible. Then peal after peal, and vivid flash afterflash, of blue and crimson fire lit up forest and stream, striking our heroes and heroine blind, or causing theireyes for a time to overrun with purple light.

So terrific was the thunder that the raft seemed torock and shiver in the sound.

This lasted for fully half an hour, the whole worldseeming to be in flames.

Peggy stood by Dick on the little deck, and heheld her arm in his; held her hand too, for it was coldand trembling.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered, during a momentarylull.

"No, Dick, not afraid, only cold, so cold; take me below."

He did so.

He made her lie down on the little sofa, and coveredher with a rug.

All just in time, for now down came the awful rain.It was as if a water-spout had broken over theseemingly doomed raft, and was sinking it below the darkwaters of the river.

Luckily the boys managed to batten down in time,or the little saloon would have been flooded.

They lit the lamp, too.

But with the rain the storm seemed to increase inviolence, and a strong wind had arisen and addedgreatly to the terror of the situation. Hail camedown as large as marbles, and the roaring and dinwas now deafening and terrible.

Then, the wind ceased to blow almostinstantaneously. It did not die away. It simply droppedall of a sudden. Hail and rain ceased shortly after.

Dick ventured to peep on deck.

It was still dark, but far away and low down onthe horizon a streak of the brightest blue sky thatever he had seen had made its appearance. Itbroadened and broadened as the dark canopy ofclouds, curtain-like, was lifted.

"Come up, Peggy. Come up, Rol. The storm isgoing. The storm has almost gone," cried Dick; andsoon all three stood once more on the deck.

Away, far away over the northern woods rolled thelast bank of clouds, still giving voice, however, stillspitting fire.

But now the sun was out and shining brightlydown with a heat that was fierce, and the raft was allenveloped in mist.

So dense, indeed, was the fog that rose from therain-soaked raft, that all the scenery was entirelyobscured. It was a hot vapour, too, and far frompleasant, so no one was sorry when Burly Billsuddenly appeared from the lower part of the raft.

"My dear boys," he said heartily, "why, you'll beparboiled if you stop here. Come with me, MissPeggy, and you, Brawn; I'll come back for you, lads.Don't want to upset the dinghy all among the 'gators, see?"

Bill was back again in a quarter of an hour, andthe boys were also taken on board the boat.

"She's a right smart little boat as ever was," saidBill; "but if we was agoin' to get 'er lip on to thewater, blow me tight, boys, if the 'gators wouldn'tboard us. They'm mebbe very nice sociable kind o'animals, but bust my buttons if I'd like to enter thenext world down a 'gator's gullet."

Beeboo did not mind the steam a bit, and by twoo'clock she had as nice a dinner laid in the raft saloonas ever boy or girl sat down to.

But by this time the timbers were dry once more, and although white clouds of fog still lay over the lowwoods, all was now bright and cheerful. Yet not moreso than the hearts of our brave youngsters.

Courage and sprightliness are all a matter ofstrength of heart, and you cannot make yourselfbrave if your system is below par. The coward isreally more to be pitied than blamed.

Well, it was very delightful, indeed, to sit on deckand talk, build castles in the air, and dream daydreams.

The air was cool and bracing now, and the sun feltwarm, but by no means too hot.

The awning was prettily lined with green cloth, thework of Mrs. St. Clair's own hands, assisted by theindefatigable Beeboo, and there was not anythingworth doing that she could not put willing, artfulhands to.

The awning was scalloped, too, if that be thewoman's word for the flaps that hung down a wholefoot all round. "Vandyked" is perhaps more correct, but then, you see, the sharp corners of the vandykingwere all rounded off. So I think scalloped muststand, though the word reminds me strangely ofoysters.

But peeping out from under the scalloped awning, and gazing northwards across the sea-like river, boatsunder steam could be noticed. Passengers on boardtoo, both ladies and gentlemen, the former all riggedout in summer attire.

"Would you like to be on board yonder?" saidDick to Peggy, as the girl handed him back thelorgnettes.

"No, indeed, I shouldn't," she replied, with a saucytoss of her pretty head.

"Well," she added, "if you were there, little Dickie,I mightn't mind it so much."

"Little Dick! Eh?" Dick laughed right heartily now.

"Yes, little Dickie. Mind, I am nearly twelve; andafter I'm twelve I'm in my teens, quite an old girl.A child no longer anyhow. And after I'm in myteens I'll soon be sixteen, and then I suppose I shallmarry."

"Who will marry you, Peggy?"

This was not very good grammar, but Dick was indownright earnest anyhow, and his young voice hadsoftened wonderfully.

"Me?" he added, as she remained silent, with hereyes seeming to follow the rolling tide.

"You, Dick! Why, you're only a child!"

"Why, Peggy, I'm fifteen-nearly, and if I live I'mbound to get older and bigger."

"No, no, Dick, you can marry Beeboo, and I shallget spliced, as the sailors call it, to Burly Bill."

The afternoon wore away, and Beeboo came up tosummon "the chillun" to tea.

Up they started, forgetting all about budding love, flirtation, and future marriages, and made a rush forthe companion-ladder.

"Wowff-wowff!" barked Brawn, and the 'gatorson shore and the tapirs in the woods lifted heads tolisten, while parrots shrieked and monkeys chatteredand scolded among the lordly forest trees.

"Wowff-wowff!" he barked. "Who says cakesand butter?"

The night fell, and Burly Bill came on board withhis banjo, and his great bass voice, which was assweet as the tone of a 'cello.

Bill was funnier than usual to-night, and whenBeeboo brought him a big tumbler of rosy rum punch, made by herself and sweetened with honey, he wasmerrier still.

Then to complete his happiness Beeboo lit his pipe.

She puffed away at it for some time as usual, byway of getting it in working order.

"'Spose," she said, "Beeboo not warm de bowl ob debig pipe plenty proper, den de dear chile Bill take achill."

"You're a dear old soul, Beeb," said Bill.

Then the dear old soul carefully wiped the ambermouth-piece with her apron, and handed Burly Billhis comforter.

The great raft swayed and swung gently to and fro,so Bill sang his pet sea-song, "The Rose of Allandale".He was finishing that bonnie verse-

 

"My life had been a wilderness,

Unblest by fortune's gale,

Had fate not linked my lot to hers,

The Rose of Allandale",

 

when all at once an ominous grating was heardcoming from beneath the raft, and motion ceased assuddenly as did Bill's song.

"Save us from evil!" cried Bill. "The raft is aground!"

CHAPTER V-A DAY IN THE FOREST WILDS

Burly Bill laid down his banjo. Then he pushedhis great extinguisher of a thumb into the bowlof his big meerschaum, and arose.

"De good Lawd ha' mussy on our souls, chillun!"cried Beeboo, twisting her apron into a calico rope."We soon be all at de bottom ob de deep, and de'gators a-pickin' de bones ob us!"

"Keep quiet, Beeb, there's a dear soul! Never a'gator'll get near you. W'y, look 'ow calm Miss Peggyis. It be'ant much as'll frighten she."

Burly Bill could speak good English when he tooktime, but invariably reverted to Berkshire when in theleast degree excited.

He was soon on board the little steamer.

"What cheer, Jake?" he said.

"Not much o' that. A deuced unlucky business.May lose the whole voyage if it comes on to blow!"

"W'y, Jake, lad, let's 'ope for the best. No usegivin' up; be there? I wouldn't let the men go toprayers yet awhile, Jake. Not to make a bizness on'tlike, I means."

Well, the night wore away, but the raft neverbudged, unless it was to get a firmer hold of the mudand sand.

A low wind had sprung up too, and if it increasedto a gale she would soon begin to break up.

It was a dreary night and a long one, and few onboard the steamer slept a wink.

But day broke at last, and the sun's crimson lightchanged the ripples on the river from leaden gray todazzling ruby.

Then the wind fell.

"There are plenty of river-boats, Bill," said Jake."What say you to intercept one and ask assistance?"

"Bust my buttons if I would cringe to ne'er a oneon 'em! They'd charge salvage, and sponge enormous.I knows the beggars as sails these puffin' Jimmieswell."

"Guess you're about right, Bill, and you know theriver better'n I."

"Listen, Jake. The bloomin' river got low all atonce, like, after the storm, and so you got kind o'befoozled, and struck. I'd a-kept further out. ButBurly Bill ain't the man to bully his mate. On'ylisten again. The river'll rise in a day or two, andif the wind keeps in its sack, w'y we'll float like athousand o' bricks on an old Thames lumper! Bustmy buttons, Jake, if we don't!"

"Well, Bill, I don't know anything about the burstingof your buttons, but you give me hope. So I'll goto breakfast. Tell the engineer to keep the firesbanked."

Two days went past, and never a move made the raft.

It was a wearisome time for all. The "chillun", asBeeboo called them, tried to beguile it in the best waythey could with reading, talking, and deck games.

Dick and Roland were "dons" at leap-frog, and itmattered not which of them was giving the back, butas soon as the other leapt over Brawn followed suit, greatly to the delight of Peggy. He jumped in sucha business-like way that everybody was forced tolaugh, especially when the noble dog took a leap thatwould have cleared a five-barred gate.

But things were getting slow on the third morning, when up sprang Burly Bill with his cartridge-belt onand his rifle under his arm.

"Cap'n Jake," he said, touching his cap in RoyalNavy fashion, "presents his compliments to the crewof this durned old stack o' timber, and begs to saythat Master Rolly and Master Dick can come on shorewith me for a run among the 'gators, but that MissPeggy had better stop on board with Beeboo. Herlife is too precious to risk!"

"Precious or not precious," pouted the girl, "MissPeggy's going, and Brawn too; so you may tell CaptainJake that."

"Bravo, Miss Peggy! you're a real St. Clair. Well,Beeboo, hurry up, and get the nicest bit of coldluncheon ready for us ever you made in your life."

"Beeboo do dat foh true. Plenty quick, too; butoh, Massa Bill, 'spose you let any ebil ting befall depoh chillun, I hopes de 'gators'll eat you up!"

"More likely, Beeb, that we'll eat them; and really, come to think of it, a slice off a young 'gator's tailaint 'arf bad tackle, Beeboo."

An hour after this the boat was dancing over therippling river. It was not the dinghy, but a gig.Burly Bill himself was stroke, and three Indianshandled the other bits of timber, while Roland tookthe tiller.

The redskins sang a curious but happy boat-lilt asthey rowed, and Bill joined in with his 'cello voice:

 

"Ober de watter and ober de sea-ee-ee,

De big black boat am rowing so free,

Eee-Eee-O-ay-O!

De big black boat, is it nuffin' to me-ee-ee,

We're rowing so free?

   

"Oh yes, de black boat am some-dings to me

As she rolls o'er de watter and swings o'er de sea,

Foh de light ob my life, she sits in de stern,

An' sweet am de glance o' Peggy's dark e'e,

Ee-ee-O-ay-O-O!"

 

"Well steered!" said Burly Bill, as Roland ran thegig on the sandy beach of a sweet little backwater.

Very soon all were landed. Bill went first as guide, and the Indians brought up the rear, carrying thebasket and a spare gun or two.

Great caution and care were required in venturingfar into this wild, tropical forest, not so much onaccount of the beasts that infested it as the fear ofgetting lost.

It was very still and quiet here, however, and Billhad taken the precaution to leave a man in the boat, with orders to keep his weather ear "lifting", and ifhe heard four shots fired in rapid succession late inthe afternoon to fire in reply at once.

It was now the heat of the day, however, and thehairy inhabitants of this sylvan wilderness were allsound asleep, jaguars and pumas among the trees, andthe tapirs in small herds wherever the jungle wasdensest.

There was no chance, therefore, of getting a shotat anything. Nevertheless, the boys and Peggy werenot idle. They had brought butterfly-nets with them, and the specimens they caught when about five milesinland, where the forest opened out into a shrub-cladmoorland, were large and glorious in the extreme.

Indeed, some of them would fetch gold galore in theLondon markets.

But though these butterflies had an immense spreadof quaintly-shaped and exquisitely-coloured wings, thesmaller ones were even more brilliant.

Strange it is that Nature paints these creatures incolours which no sunshine can fade. All the tints thatman ever invented grow pale in the sun; these neverdo, and the same may be said concerning the tropicalbirds that they saw so many of to-day.

But no one had the heart to shoot any of these.Why should they soil such beautiful plumage withblood, and so bring grief and woe into this love-litwilderness?

This is not a book on natural history, else gladlywould I describe the beauties in shape and colour ofthe birds, and their strange manners, the wary waysadopted in nest-building, and their songs and queerways of love-making.

Suffice it to say here that the boys were delightedwith all the tropical wonders and all the picturesquegorgeousness they saw everywhere around them.

But their journey was not without a spice of realdanger and at times of discomfort. The discomfortwe may dismiss at once. It was borne, as Beeboowould say, with Christian "forty-tood", and was duepartly to the clouds of mosquitoes they encounteredwherever the soil was damp and marshy, and partlyto the attacks of tiny, almost invisible, insects of thejigger species that came from the grass and ferns andheaths to attack their legs.

Burly Bill was an old forester, and carried with himan infallible remedy for mosquito and jigger bites, which acted like a charm.

In the higher ground-where tropical heath andheather painted the surface with hues of crimson, pink, and purple-snakes wriggled and darted about everywhere.

One cannot help wondering why Nature has takenthe pains to paint many of the most deadly of these incolours that rival the hues of the humming-birds thatyonder flit from bush to bush, from flower to flower.

Perhaps it is that they may the more easily seektheir prey, their gaudy coats matching well with theshrubs and blossoms that they wriggle amongst, whilegliding on and up to seize helpless birds in their nestsor to devour the eggs.

Parrots here, and birds of that ilk, have an easyway of repelling such invaders, for as soon as theysee them they utter a scream that paralyses theintruders, and causes them to fall helplessly to the ground.

To all creatures Nature grants protection, andclothes them in a manner that shall enable them togain a subsistence; but, moreover, every creature inthe world has received from the same great power themeans of defending or protecting itself against theattacks of enemies.

On both sides, then, is Nature just, for though shedoes her best to keep living species extant untilevolved into higher forms of life, she permits eachspecies to prey on the overgrowth or overplus ofothers that it may live.

Knocking over a heap of soft dry mould with thebutt end of his rifle, Dick started back in terror to seecrawl out from the heap a score or more of the mostgigantic beetles anyone could imagine. These weremostly black, or of a beautiful bronze, with streaks ofmetallic blue and crimson.

They are called harlequins, and live on carrion.Nothing that dies comes wrong to these monsters, and a few of them will seize and carry away a deadsnake five or six hundred times their own weight.My readers will see by this that it is not so muchmuscle that is needed for feats of strength as indomitablewill and nerve force. But health must be at thebottom of all. Were a man, comparatively speaking,as strong as one of these beetles, he could lift on hisback and walk off with a weight of thirty tons!

Our heroes had to stop every now and then tomarvel at the huge working ants, and all the wondrousproofs of reason they evinced.

It was well to stand off, however, if, with snappinghorizontal mandibles and on business intent, any ofthese fellows approached. For their bites are aspoisonous as those of the green scorpions orcentipedes themselves.

What with one thing or another, all hands wereattacked by healthy hunger at last, and sought theshade of a great spreading tree to satisfy Nature'sdemands.

When the big basket was opened it was found thatBeeboo had quite excelled herself. So glorious aluncheon made every eye sparkle to look at it. Andthe odour thereof caused Brawn's mouth to water andhis eyes to sparkle with expectancy.

The Indians had disappeared for a time. Theywere only just round the shoulder of a hill, however, where they, too, were enjoying a good feed.

But just as Burly Bill was having a taste from aclear bottle, which, as far as the look of it went, would have passed for cold tea, two Indian boysappeared, bringing with them the most delicious offruits as well as fresh ripe nuts.

The luncheon after that merged into a banquet.

Burly Bill took many sips of his cold tea. When Icome to think over it, however, I conclude there wasmore rum than cold tea in that brown mixture, orBill would hardly have smacked his lips and sighedwith such satisfaction after every taste.

The fruit done, and even Brawn satisfied, the wholecrew gave themselves up to rest and meditation. Theboys talked low, because Peggy's meditations had ledto gentle slumber. An Indian very thoughtfullybrought a huge plantain leaf which quite covered her, and protected her from the chequered rays of sunshinethat found their way through the tree. Brawn edgedin below the leaf also, and enjoyed a good sleep besidehis little mistress.

Not a gun had been fired all day long, yet a moreenjoyable picnic in a tropical forest it would be difficultto imagine.

Perhaps the number of the Indians scared thejaguars away, for none appeared.

Yet the day was not to end without an adventure.

Darkness in this country follows the short twilightso speedily, that Burly Bill did well to get clear of theforest's gloom while the sun was still well above thehorizon.

He trusted to the compass and his own good senseas a forester to come out close to the spot where hehad left the boat. But he was deceived. He struckthe river a good mile and a half above the placewhere the steamer lay at anchor and the raft agroundon the shoals.

Lower and lower sank the sun. The ground waswet and marshy, and the 'gators very much in evidenceindeed.

Now the tapirs-and droll pig-bodied creatures theylook, though in South America nearly as big as donkeys-areof a very retiring disposition, but not reallysolitary animals as cheap books on natural historywould have us believe. They frequent low woods, where their long snouts enable them to pull down thetender twigs and foliage on which, with roots, whichthey can speedily unearth, they manage to exist-yes, and to wax fat and happy.

But they are strict believers in the doctrine ofcleanliness, and are never found very far from water.They bathe every night.

Just when the returning picnic was within abouthalf a mile of the boat, Burly Bill carrying Peggy onhis shoulder because the ground was damp, a terriblescrimmage suddenly took place a few yards round abackwater.

There was grunting, squeaking, the splashing ofwater, and cries of pain.

"Hurry on, boys; hurry on; two of you are enough!It's your show, lads."

The boys needed no second bidding, and no soonerhad they opened out the curve than a strange sightmet their gaze.

CHAPTER VI-"NOT ONE SINGLE DROP OF BLOOD SHED"

A gigantic and horribly fierce alligator hadseized upon a strong young tapir, and wastrying to drag it into the water.

The poor creature had both its feet set well in front, and was resisting with all its might, while two otherlarger animals, probably the parents, were clawing thecayman desperately with their fore-feet.

But ill, indeed, would it have fared with all threehad not our heroes appeared just in the nick oftime.

For several more of these scaly and fearsomereptiles were hurrying to the scene of action.

Dick's first shot was a splendid one. It struck theoffending cayman in the eye, and went crashingthrough his brain.

The brute gasped, the blood flowed freely, and as hefell on his side, turning up his yellow belly, the youngtapir got free, and was hurried speedily away to thewoods.

Volley after volley was poured in on the enraged'gators, but the boys had to retreat as they fought.Had they not done so, my story would have stoppedshort just here.

It was not altogether the sun's parting rays that soencrimsoned the water, but the blood of thoseold-world caymans.

Three in all were killed in addition to the one firstshot. So that it is no wonder the boys felt elated.

Beeboo had supper waiting and there was nothingtalked about that evening except their strangeadventures in the beautiful forest.

—

Probably no one could sleep more soundly than didour heroes and heroine that night.

Next day, and next, they went on shore again, andon the third a huge jaguar, who fancied he would liketo dine off Brawn's shoulder, fell a victim to DickTemple's unerring aim.

But the raft never stirred nor moved for a whole week.

Said Bill to Jake one morning, as he took his meerschaumfrom his mouth:

"I think, Jake, and w'at I thinks be's this like.There ain't ne'er a morsel o' good smokin' and on'yjust lookin' at that fine and valuable pile o' timber.It strikes me conclusive like that something 'ad betterbe done."

"And what would you propose, Bill?" said Jake.

"Well, Jake, you're captain like, and my propositionis subject to your disposition as it were. But I'dlighten her, and lighten her till she floats; then towher off, and build up the odd timbers again."

"Good! You have a better head than I have, Bill; and it's you that should have been skipper, not me."

Nothing was done that day, however, except makinga few more attempts with the steamer at full speed totow her off. She did shift and slue round a little, butthat was all.

Next morning dawned as beautifully as any thathad gone before it.

There were fleecy clouds, however, hurrying acrossthe sky as if on business bent, and the blue betweenthem was bluer than ever our young folks had seen it.

Dick Temple, with Roland and Peggy, had made uptheir minds to go on shore for another day while thework of dismantling the raft went on.

But a fierce south wind began to blow, drivingheavy black clouds before it, and lashing the riverinto foam.

One of those terrible tropic storms was evidentlyon the cards, and come it did right soon.

The darkest blackness was away to the west, andhere, though no thunder could be heard, the lightningwas very vivid. It was evident that this was thevortex of the hurricane, for only a few drops of rainfell around the raft.

The picnic scheme was of course abandoned, and allwaited anxiously enough for something to come.

That something did come in less than an hour-thedescent of the mighty Amazon in flood. Its tributarieshad no doubt been swollen by the awful rainand water-spouts, and poured into the great queen ofrivers double their usual discharge.

A bore is a curling wave like a shore breaker thatrushes down the smaller rivers, and is terriblydestructive to boating or to shipping.

The Amazon, however, did not rise like this. Itcame rushing almost silently down in a broad tallwave that appeared to stretch right across it, from theforest-clad bank where the raft lay to the far-offgreen horizon in the north.

But Burly Bill was quite prepared for eventualities.

Steam had been got up, the vessel's bows wereheaded for up stream, and the hawser betwixt raftand boat tautened.

On and on rushed the huge wave. It toweredabove the raft, even when fifty yards away, in themost threatening manner, as if about to sweep allthings to destruction.

But on its nearer approach it glided in under theraft, and steamer as well-like some huge submarinemonster such as we read of in fairy books of thelong-long-ago-glided in under them, and seemed to liftthem sky-high.

"Go ahead at full speed!"

It was the sonorous voice of Burly Bill shouting tothe engineer.

"Ay, ay, sir!" came the cheery reply.

The screw went round with a rush.

It churned up a wake of foaming water as thePeggy began to forge ahead, and next minute, drivenalong on the breeze, the monster raft began to followand was soon out and away beyond danger from rockor shoal.

Then arose to heaven a prayer of thankfulness, anda cheer so loud and long that even the parrots andmonkeys in the forest depths heard it, and yelled andchattered till they frightened both 'gators and jaguars.

Just two weeks after these adventures, the littlePeggy was at anchor, and the great raft safely beached.

Burly Bill was left in charge with his white menand his Indians, with Dick Temple to act assupercargo, and Jake Solomons with Roland and Peggy, not to mention the dog, started off for Pará.

In due course, but after many discomforts, theyarrived there, and Jake, after taking rooms in ahotel, hurried off to secure his despatches from thepost-office.

"No letters!" cried Jake, as his big brown fist camedown with a bang on the counter. "Why, I see thevery documents I came for in the pigeon-hole behind you!"

The clerk, somewhat alarmed at the attitude ofthis tall Yankee backwoodsman, pulled them out andlooked at them.

"They cannot be delivered," he said.

"And why?" thundered Jake, "Inasmuch as towherefore, you greasy-faced little whipper-snapper!"

"Not sufficient postage."

Jake thrust one hand into a front pocket, and onebehind him. Then on the counter he dashed down abag of cash and a six-chambered revolver.

"I'm Jake Solomons," he said. "There before youlies peace or war. Hand over the letters, and you'llhave the rhino. Refuse, and I guess and calculate I'llblow the whole top of your head off."

The clerk preferred peace, and Jake strode awaytriumphant.

When he returned to the hotel and told the boysthe story, they laughed heartily. In their eyes, Jakewas more a hero than ever.

"Ah!" said the giant quietly, "there's nothing bringsthese long-shore chaps sooner to their senses thanletting 'em have a squint down the barrel of a six-shooter."

The letters were all from Mr. St. Clair, and hadbeen lying at the post-office for over a week. Theyall related to business, to the sale of the timber andthe other commodities, the best markets, and so onand so forth, with hints as to the gold-mine.

But the last one was much more bulky than theothers, and so soon as he had glanced at the firstlines, Jake lit his meerschaum, then threw himselfback in his rocker to quietly discuss it.

It was a plain, outspoken letter, such as one man ofthe world writes to another. Here is one extract: -

Our business is increasing at a rapid rate, JakeSolomon. I have too much to do and so have you; therefore, although I did not think it necessary toinform you before, I have been in communicationwith my brother John, and he is sending me out ashrewd, splendid man of business. He will havearrived before your return.

I can trust John thoroughly, and this Don PedroSalvador, over and above his excellent businesscapabilities, can talk Spanish, French, and Portuguese.

I do not quite like the name, Jake, so he must becontent to be called plain Mr. Peter.

—

About the very time that Jake Solomons was readingthis letter, there sat close to the sky-light of anoutward-bound steamer at Liverpool, two men holdinglow but earnest conversation. Their faces were partlyobscured, for it was night, and the only light aglimmer from the ship's lamp.

Steam was up and roaring through the pipes.

A casual observer might have noted that one was aslim, swarthy, but wiry, smart-looking man of aboutthirty. His companion was a man considerably over forty.

"I shall go now," said the latter. "You have myinstructions, and I believe I can trust you."

"Have I not already given you reason to?" was therejoinder. "At the risk of penal servitude did I notsteal my employer's keys, break into his room atnight, and copy that will for you? It was but a copyof a copy, it is true, and I could not discover theoriginal, else the quickest and simplest plan wouldhave been-fire:"

"True, you did so, but" – the older man laughedlightly-"you were well paid for the duty you performed."

"Duty, eh?" sneered the other. "Well," he added,"thank God nothing has been discovered. Myemployer has bidden me an almost affectionate farewell, and given me excellent certificates."

The other started up as a loud voice hailed the deck:

"Any more for the shore!"

"I am going now," he said. "Good-bye, old man, and remember my last words: not one single drop ofblood shed!"

"I understand, and will obey to the letter. Obedience pays."

"True; and you shall find it so. Good-bye!"

"A Dios!" said the other.

The last bell was struck, and the gangway washauled on shore.

The great ship Benedict was that night rolling andtossing about on the waves of the Irish Channel.

—

Jake Solomons acquainted Roland and Peggy withthe contents of this last letter, and greatly did thelatter wonder what the new overseer would be like, and if she should love him or not.

For Peggy had a soft little heart of her own, andwas always prepared to be friendly with anyone who, according to her idea, was nice.

Jake took his charges all round the city nextday and showed them the sights of what is now oneof the most beautiful towns in South America.

The gardens, the fountains, the churches and palaces, the flowers and fruit, and feathery palm-trees, allthings indeed spoke of delightfulness, and calm, andpeace.

And far beyond and behind all this was theboundless forest primeval.

This was not their last drive through the city, andthis good fellow Jake, though his business took himfrom home most of the day, delighted to take thechildren to every place of amusement he could thinkof. But despite all this, these children of the forestwilds began to long for home, and very much rejoicedwere they when one evening, after dinner, Jake toldthem they should start on the morrow for Bona Vista, near to which town the little steamer lay, and so upthe great river and home.

Jake had done all his business, and done it satisfactorily, and could return to the old plantation andBurnley Hall with a light and cheerful heart.

He had even sold the mine, although it was not tobe worked for some time to come.

CHAPTER VII-"A COLD HAND SEEMED TO CLUTCH HER HEART"

Many months passed away pleasantly and happilyenough on the old plantation. The children-Roland,by the way, would hardly have liked to becalled a child now-were, of course, under the abletuition of Mr. Simons, but in addition Peggy had agoverness, imported directly from Pará.

This was a dark-eyed Spanish girl, very piquantand pretty, who talked French well, and played onboth the guitar and piano.

Tom St. Clair had not only his boy's welfare, buthis niece's, or adopted daughter's, also at heart.

It would be some years yet before she arrived atthe age of sweet seventeen, but when she did, heruncle determined to sell off or realize on his plantation, his goods and chattels, and sail across the seas oncemore to dear old Cornwall and the real Burnley Hall.

He looked forward to that time as the wearyworker in stuffy towns or cities does to a summerholiday.

There is excitement enough in money-making, it islike an exhilarating game of billiards or whist, but itis apt to become tiresome.

And Tom St. Clair was often overtired and weary.He was always glad when he reached home at nightto his rocking-chair and a good dinner, after toilingall day in the recently-started india-rubber-forest works.

But Mr. Peter took a vast deal of labour off his hands.

Mr. Peter, or Don Pedro, ingratiated himself withnearly everyone from the first, and seemed to take tothe work as if to the manner born.

There were three individuals, however, who couldnot like him, strange to say; these were Peggy herself,Benee the Indian who had guided them through theforest when lost, and who had remained on the estateever since, while the third was Brawn, the Irish wolf-hound.

The dog showed his teeth if Peter tried even tocaress him.

Both Roland and Dick-the latter was a veryfrequent visitor-got on very well with Peter-trustedhim thoroughly.

"How is it, Benee," said Roland one day to theIndian, "that you do not love Don Pedro?"

Benee spat on the ground and stamped his foot.

"I watch he eye," the semi-savage replied. "Heone very bad man. Some day you know plentymoochee foh true."

"Well," said Tom one evening as he and his wifesat alone in the verandah together, "I do long to getback to England. I am tired, dear wife-my heart isweak why should we remain here over two yearsmore? We are wealthy enough, and I promise myselfand you, dear, many long years of health andhappiness yet in the old country."

He paused and smoked a little; then, after watchingfor a few moments the fireflies that flitted from bushto bush, he stretched his left arm out and rested hishand on his wife's lap.

Some impulse seized her. She took it and pressedit to her lips. But a tear trickled down her cheek asshe did so.

Lovers still this couple were, though nearly twentyyears had elapsed since he led her, a bonnie, buxom, blushing lassie, to the altar.

But now in a sweet, low, but somewhat sad voice hesang a verse of that dear old song-"We have livedand loved together": -

 

"We have lived and loved together

Through many changing years,

We have shared each other's gladness

And dried each other's tears.

I have never known a sorrow

That was long unsoothed by thee,

For thy smile can make a summer

Where darkness else would be.

 

Mrs. St. Clair would never forget that evening onthe star-lit lawn, nor the flitting, little fire-insects, norher husband's voice.

—

Is it not just when we expect it least that sorrowsometimes falls suddenly upon us, hiding or eclipsingall our promised happiness and joy?

I have now to write a pitiful part of my too truestory, but it must be done.

Next evening St. Clair rode home an hour earlier.

He complained of feeling more tired than usual, and said he would lie down on the drawing-room sofauntil dinner was ready.

Peggy went singing along the hall to call him atthe appointed time.

She went singing into the room.

"Pa, dear," she cried merrily; "Uncle-pa, dinner isall beautifully ready!"

"Come, Unky-pa. How sound you sleep!"

Then a terror crept up from the earth, as it were, and a cold hand seemed to clutch her heart.

She ran out of the room.

"Oh, Auntie-ma!" she cried, "come, come quickly,pa won't wake, nor speak!"

Heigho! the summons had come, and dear "Uncle-pa"would never, never wake again.

This is a short chapter, but it is too sad to continue.

So falls the curtain on the first act of this life-drama.

CHAPTER VIII-FIERCELY AND WILDLY BOTH SIDES FOUGHT

The gloomy event related in last chapter must notbe allowed to cast a damper over our story.

Of course death is always and everywhere hoveringnear, but why should boys like you and me, reader, permit that truth to cloud our days or stand betweenus and happiness?

Two years, then, have elapsed since poor, brave TomSt. Clair's death.

He is buried near the edge of the forest in abeautiful enclosure where rare shrubs grow, and whereflowers trail and climb far more beautiful than anywe ever see in England.

At first Mrs. St. Clair had determined to sell all offand go back to the old country, but her overseer JakeSolomons and Mr. Peter persuaded her not to, or itseemed that it was their advice which kept her fromcarrying out her first intentions. But she had anotherreason, she found she could not leave that lonesomegrave yet awhile.

So the years passed on.

The estate continued to thrive.

Roland was now a handsome young fellow in hiseighteenth year, and Peggy, now beautiful beyondcompare, was nearly fifteen.

Dick Temple, the bold and reckless huntsman andhorseman, was quieter now in his attentions towardsher. She was no longer the child that he could lifton to his broad young shoulders and carry, neighingand galloping like a frightened colt, round and roundthe lawn.

And Roland felt himself a man. He was moresober and sedate, and had taken over all his father'swork and his father's responsibilities. But for all that, lightly enough lay the burden on his heart.

For he had youth on his side, and

"In the lexicon of youth which fate reserves

For a bright manhood there is no such word

As fail".

—

I do not, however, wish to be misunderstood. Itmust not be supposed that Roland had no difficultiesto contend with, that all his business life wasas fair and serene as a bright summer's day. Onthe contrary, he had many losses owing to thefluctuations of the markets and the failures of great firms, owing to fearful storms, and more than once owingto strikes or revolts among his Indians in the greatindia-rubber forest.

But Roland was light-hearted and young, and difficultiesin life, I have often said, are just like nine-pins, they are put up to be bowled over.

Besides, be it remembered that if it were all plainsailing with us in this world we should not be able toappreciate how really happy our lives are. The skyis always bluest 'twixt the darkest clouds.

On the whole, Roland, who took stock, and, withhonest Bill and Jake Solomons, went over the booksevery quarter, had but little reason to complain.This stock-taking consumed most of their sparetime for the greater part of a week, and when it wasfinished Roland invariably gave a dinner-party, atwhich I need hardly say his dear friend Dick Templewas present. And this was always the happiest ofhappy nights to Dick, because the girl he loved morethan all things on earth put together was here, andlooked so innocent and beautiful in her simple dressesof white and blue.

There was no such thing as flirtation here, but Dickwas fully and completely in earnest when he toldhimself that if he lived till he was three- orfour-and-twenty he would ask Peggy to be his wife.

Ah! there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.

Dick, I might, could, would, or should have toldyou before, lived with a bachelor uncle, who, beingrather old and infirm, seldom came out. He had goodearnest men under him, however, as overseers, and hisplantations were thriving, especially that in whichtobacco was cultivated.

The old man was exceedingly fond of Dick, andDick would be his heir.

Probably it was for his uncle's sake that Dickstayed in the country-and of course for Peggy'sand Roland's-for, despite its grand field for sportand adventure, the lad had a strange longing to go toEngland and play cricket or football.

He had been born in Britain just as Roland was, and had visited his childhood's home more than onceduring his short life.

Now just about this time Don Pedro, or Mr. Peteras all called him, had asked for and obtained aholiday. He was going to Pará for a change, he said, andto meet a friend from England.

That he did meet a friend from England there waslittle doubt, but their interview was a very short one.Where he spent the rest of his time was best knownto himself.

In three months or a little less he turned up smilingagain, and most effusive.

About a fortnight after his arrival he came to Jakeone morning pretty early.

Jake was preparing to start on horseback for thegreat forest.

"I'm on the horns of a dilemma, Mr. Solomons," hesaid, laughing his best laugh. "During the nightabout twenty Bolivian Indians have encamped nearto the forest. They ask for work on the india-rubbertrees. They are well armed, and all sturdy warriors.They look as if fighting was more in their line thanhonest labour."

"Well, Mr. Peter, what is their excuse for beinghere anyhow?"

"They are bound for the sea-shore at the mouths ofthe river, and want to earn a few dollars to help them on."

"Well, where is the other horn of the dilemma?"

"Oh! if I give them work they may corrupt our fellows."

"Then, Mr. Peter, I'd give the whole blessed lot theboot and the sack."

"Ah! now, Mr. Solomons, you've got to the otherhorn. These savages, for they are little else, arerevengeful."

"We're not afraid."

"No, we needn't be were they to make war openly, but they are sly, and as dangerous as sly. They wouldin all probability burn us down some dark night."

Jake mused for a minute. Then he said abruptly:

"Let the poor devils earn a few dollars, Mr. Peter,if they are stony-broke, and then send them on theirway rejoicing."

"That's what I say, too," said Burly Bill, who hadjust come up. "I've been over yonder in the starlight.They look deuced uncouth and nasty. So does a bull-dog,Jake, but is there a softer-hearted, more kindlydog in all creation?"

So that very day the Indians set to work with theother squads.

The labour connected with the collecting of india-rubberis by no means very hard, but it requires alittle skill, and is irksome to those not used to suchtoil.

But labour is scarce and Indians are often lazy, soon the whole Jake was not sorry to have the newhands, or "serinqueiros" as they are called.

The india-rubber trees are indigenous and grow ingreatest profusion on that great tributary of theAmazon called the Madeira. But when poor TomSt. Clair came to the country he had an eye to business.He knew that india-rubber would always command agood market, and so he visited the distant forests, studied the growth and culture of the trees asconducted by Nature, and ventured to believe that hecould improve upon her methods.

He was successful, and it was not a great manyyears before he had a splendid plantation of youngtrees in his forest, to say nothing of the older onesthat had stood the brunt of many a wild tropicalstorm.

It will do no harm if I briefly describe the methodof obtaining the india-rubber. Tiny pots of tin, holding about half a pint, are hung under an incisionin the bark of the tree, and these are filled andemptied every day, the contents being delivered bythe Indian labourers at the house or hut of anunder-overseer.

The sap is all emptied into larger utensils, and alarge smoking fire, made of the nuts of a curious kindof palm called the Motokoo, being built, the operatorsdip wooden shovels into the sap, twirling these roundquickly and holding them in the smoke. Coagulationtakes place very quickly. Again the shovel is dippedin the sap, and the same process is repeated until thecoagulated rubber is about two inches thick, when itis cooled, cut, or sliced off, and is ready for the distantmarket.

Now, from the very day of their arrival, there wasno love lost between the old and steady hands andthis new band of independent and flighty ones.

The latter were willing enough to slice the barkand to hang up their pannikins, and they would evenempty them when filled, and condescend to carry theircontents to the preparing-house. But they were lazyin the extreme at gathering the nuts, and positivelyrefused to smoke the sap and coagulate it.

It made them weep, they explained, and it wasmuch more comfortable to lie and wait for the sapwhile they smoked and talked in their own strangelanguage.

After a few days the permanent hands refused towork at the same trees, or even in the same part ofthe estrados or roads that led through the plantationof rubber-trees.

A storm was brewing, that was evident. Nor wasit very long before it burst.

All unconscious that anything was wrong, Peggy, with Brawn, was romping about one day enjoyingthe busy scene, Peggy often entering into conversationwith some of her old favourites, when one of thestrange Indians, returning from the tub with anempty tin, happened to tread on Brawn's tail.

The dog snarled, but made no attempt to bite.Afraid, however, that he would spring upon the fellow,Peggy threw herself on the ground, encircling herarms around Brawn's shoulders, and it was she whoreceived the blow that was meant for the dog.

It cut her across the arm, and she fainted with pain.

Brawn sprang at once upon his man and broughthim down.

He shook the wretch as if he had been but a rat, and blood flowed freely.

Burly Bill was not far off, and just as the greathound had all but fixed the savage by the windpipe, which he would undoubtedly have torn out, Bill pulledhim off by the collar and pacified him.

The blood-stained Indian started to his legs tomake good his retreat, but as his back was turned inflight, Bill rushed after him and dealt him a kick thatlaid him prone on his face.

This was the signal for a general mêlée, and aterrible one it was!

Bill got Peggy pulled to one side, and gave her incharge to Dick, who had come thundering across onhis huge horse towards the scene of conflict.

Under the shelter of a spreading tree Dick liftedhis precious charge. But she speedily revived whenhe laid her flat on the ground. She smiled feeblyand held out her hand, which Dick took and kissed, the tears positively trickling over his cheeks.

Perhaps it was a kind of boyish impulse that causedhim to say what he now said:

"Oh, Peggy, my darling, how I love you! Whereeveryou are, dear, wherever I am-oh, always thinkof me a little!"

That was all.

A faint colour suffused Peggy's cheek for just amoment. Then she sat up, and the noble houndanxiously licked her face.

But she had made no reply.

Meanwhile the mêlée went merrily on, as a DonnybrookIrishman might remark.

Fiercely and wildly both sides fought, using asweapons whatsoever came handiest.

But soon the savages were beaten and discomfitedwith, sad to tell, the loss of one life-that of asavage.

Not only Jake himself, but Roland and Mr. Peterwere now on the scene of the recent conflict. Closeto Peter's side, watching every movement of his lipsand eyes, stood Benee, the Indian who had saved thechildren.

Several times Peter looked as if he felt uneasy, and once he turned towards Benee as if about to speak.

He said nothing, and the man continued his watchfulscrutiny.

After consulting for a short time together, Jake andRoland, with Burly Bill, determined to hold a court ofinquiry on the spot.

But, strange to say, Peter kept aloof. He continuedto walk to and fro, and Benee still hung in his rear.But this ex-savage was soon called upon to act asinterpreter if his services should be needed, whichthey presently were.

Every one of the civilized Indians had the samestory to tell of the laziness and insolence of theBolivians, and now Jake ordered the chief of theother party to come forward.

They sulked for a short time.

But Jake drew his pistols, and, one in each hand, stepped out and ordered all to the front.

They made no verbal response to the questions putto them through Benee. Their only reply was scowling.

"Well, Mr. St. Clair," said Jake, "my advice is topay these rascals and send them off."

"Good!" said Roland. "I have money."

The chief was ordered to draw nearer, and thedollars were counted into his claw-like fist.

The fellow drew up his men in a line and gave toeach his pay, reserving his own.

Then at a signal, given by the chief, there wasraised a terrible war-whoop and howl.

The chief spat on his dollars and dashed them intoa neighbouring pool. Every man did the same.

Roland was looking curiously on. He was wonderingwhat would happen next.

He had not very long to wait, for with his foot thechief turned the dead man on his back, and the bloodfrom his death-stab poured out afresh.

He dipped his palm in the red stream and held itup on high. His men followed his example.

Then all turned to the sun, and in one voice utteredjust one word, which, being interpreted by Benee, wasunderstood to mean-REVENGE!

They licked the blood from their hands, and, turninground, marched in silence and in single file outand away from the forest and were seen no more.

CHAPTER IX-THAT TREE IN THE FOREST GLADE

The things, the happenings, I have now to tell youof in this chapter form the turning-point in ourstory.

Weeks passed by after the departure of thatmysterious band of savages, and things went on in thesame old groove on the plantation.

Whence the savages had come, or whither they hadgone, none could tell. But all were relieved at theirexit, dramatic and threatening though it had been.

The hands were all very busy now everywhere, andone day, it being the quarter's end, after taking stockRoland gave his usual dinner-party, and a ball to hisnatives. These were all dressed out as gaily as gailycould be. The ladies wore the most tawdry of finery, most of which they had bought, or rather had hadbrought them by their brothers and lovers from Pará,and nothing but the most pronounced evening dressdid any "lady of colour" deign to wear.

Why should they not ape the quality, and "pohdeah Miss Peggy".

Peggy was very happy that evening, and so I needhardly say was Dick Temple. Though he never haddared to speak of love again, no one could have lookedat those dark daring eyes of his and said it was notthere.

It must have been about eleven by the clock and abright moonlight night when Dick started to ridehome. He knew the track well, he said, and couldnot be prevailed upon to stay all night. Besides, hisuncle expected him.

The dinner and ball given to the plantation handshad commenced at sunset, or six o'clock, and aftersinging hymns-a queer finish to a most hilariousdance-all retired, and by twelve of the clock not asound was to be heard over all the plantation savenow and then the mournful cry of the shriek-owl or aplash in the river, showing that the 'gators preferreda moonshiny night to daylight itself.

The night wore on, one o'clock, two o'clock chimedfrom the turret on Burnley Hall, and soon after this, had anyone been in the vicinity he would have seena tall figure, wrapped in cloak and hood, steal awayfrom the house adown the walks that led from theflowery lawns. The face was quite hidden, but severaltimes the figure paused, as if to listen and glancearound, then hurried on once more, and finallydisappeared in the direction of the forest.

Peggy's bedroom was probably the most tastefully-arrangedand daintily-draped in the house, and whenshe lay down to-night and fell gently asleep, verysweet indeed were the dreams that visited her pillow.The room was on a level with the river lawn, onto which it opened by a French or casement window.Three o'clock!

The moon shone on the bed, and even on the girl'sface, but did not awaken her.

A few minutes after this, and the casement windowwas quietly opened, and the same cloaked figure, which stole away from the mansion an hour before, softly entered.

It stood for more than half a minute erect andlistening, then, bending low beside the bed, listened amoment there.

Did no spectral dream cross the sleeping girl's visionto warn her of the dreadful fate in store for her?

Had she shrieked even now, assistance would havebeen speedily forthcoming, and she might have beensaved!

But she quietly slumbered on.

Then the dark figure retreated as it had come, andpresently another and more terrible took its place-aburly savage carrying a blanket or rug.

First the girl's clothing and shoes, her watch andall her trinkets, were gathered up and handed tosomeone on the lawn.

Then the savage, approaching the bed with stealthyfootsteps, at once enveloped poor Peggy in the rugand bore her off.

For a moment she uttered a muffled moan or two, like a nightmare scream, then all was still as thegrave.

—

"Missie Peggy! Missie Peggy," cried Beeboo nextmorning at eight as she entered the room. "What foryou sleep so long? Ah!" she added sympathizingly, still holding the door-knob in her hand. "Ah! butden the poh chile very tired. Dance plenty mooch las'night, and-"

She stopped suddenly.

Something unusual in the appearance of the bedattire attracted her attention and she speedily rushedtowards it.

She gave vent at once to a loud yell, and Rolandhimself, who was passing near, ran in immediately.

He stood like one in a state of catalepsy, with hiseyes fixed on the empty bed. But he recoveredshortly.

"Oh, this is a fearful day!" he cried, and hastenedout to acquaint Jake and Bill, both of whom, as wellas Mr. Peter, slept in the east wing of the mansion.

He ran from door to door knocking very loud andshouting: "Awake, awake, Peggy has gone! She hasbeen kidnapped, and the accursed savages have hadtheir revenge!"

In their pyjamas only, Jake and Bill appeared, andafter a while Mr. Peter, fully dressed.

He looked sleepy.

"I had too much wine last night," he said, with ayawn, "and slept very heavily all night. But whatis the matter?"

He was quietly and quickly informed.

"This is indeed a fearful blow, but surely we cantrace the scoundrels!"

"Boys, hurry through with your breakfast," saidRoland. "Jake, I will be back in a few minutes."

He whistled shrilly and Brawn came rushing to his side.

"Follow me, Brawn."

His object was to find out in which direction thesavages had gone.

Had Brawn been a blood-hound he could soon havepicked up the scent.

As it was, however, his keen eyes discovered thetrail on the lawn, and led him to the gate. He howledimpatiently to have it opened, then bounded out andaway towards the forest in a westerly and southerlydirection, which, if pursued far enough, would leadtowards Bolivia, along the wild rocky banks of theMadeira River.

It was a whole hour before Brawn returned. Hecarried something in his mouth. He soon found hismaster, and laid the something gently down at hisfeet, stretching himself-grief-stricken-beside it.

It was one of Peggy's boots, with a white silkstocking in it, drenched in blood.

The white men and Indians were now fully aroused, and, leaving Jake in charge of the estate, Rolandpicked out thirty of the best men, armed them withguns, and placed them under the command of BurlyBill. Then they started off in silence, Roland andBurly mounted, the armed whites and Indians on foot.

Brawn went galloping on in front in a very excitedmanner, often returning and barking wildly at thehorses as if to hurry them on.

Throughout that forenoon they journeyed by thetrail, which was now distinct enough, and led throughthe jungle and forest.

They came out on to a clearing about one o'clock.Here was water in abundance, and as they were allthoroughly exhausted, they threw themselves downby the spring to quench their thirst and rest.

Bill made haste now to deal out the provisions, andafter an hour, during which time most of them slept, they resumed their journey.

A mile or two farther on they came to a sightwhich almost froze their blood.

In the middle of a clearing or glade stood a greattree. It was hollowed out at one side, and againstthis was still a heap of half-charred wood, evidentlythe remains of a fierce fire, though every ember haddied black out.

Here was poor Peggy's other shoe. That too wasbloody.

And here was a pool of coagulated blood, withhuge rhinoceros beetles busy at their work ofexcavation. Portions or rags of dress also!

It was truly an awful sight!

Roland reined up his horse, and placed his righthand over his eyes.

"Bill," he managed to articulate, "can you havethe branches removed, and let us know the fearfulworst?"

Burly Bill gave the order, and the Indians tossedthe half-burned wood aside.

Then they pulled out bone after bone of limbs,of arms, of ribs. But all were charred almost intocinders!

Roland now seemed to rise to the occasion.

He held his right arm on high.

"Bill," he cried; "here, under the blazing sun andabove the remains, the dust of my dead sister, Iregister a vow to follow up these fiends to theirdistant homes, if Providence shall but lead us aright, and to slay and burn every wretch who has aided orabetted this terrible deed!"

"I too register that vow," said Bill solemnly.

"And I, and I!" shouted the white men, and eventhe Indians.

They went on again once more, after burying thecharred bones and dust.

But the trail took them to a ford, and beyond thestream there was not the imprint of even a singlefootstep.

The retiring savages must either have doubled backon their tracks or waded for miles up or down therocky stream before landing.

Nothing more could be done to-day, for the sun wasalready declining, and they must find their way outof the gloom of the forest before darkness. So thereturn journey was made, and just as the sun's redbeams were crimsoning the waters of the westernriver, they arrived once more at the plantation andBurnley Hall.

The first to meet them was Peter himself. Heseemed all anxiety.

"What have you found?" he gasped.

It was a moment or two before Roland could reply.

"Only the charred remains of my poor sister!" hesaid at last, then compressed his mouth in an effortto keep back the tears.

The Indian who took so lively an interest inMr. Peter was not far away, and was watching his manas usual.

None noticed, save Benee himself, that Mr. Peterheaved something very like a sigh of relief as Roland'swords fell on his ears.

Burnley Hall was now indeed a castle of gloom; but although poor Mrs. St. Clair was greatly castdown, the eager way in which Roland and Dick weremaking their preparations to follow up the savageIndians, even to the confines or interior, if necessary,of their own domains, gave her hope.

Luckily they had already found a clue to theirwhereabouts, for one of the civilized Bolivians knewthat very chief, and indeed had come from the samefar-off country. He described the people as a raceof implacable savages and cannibals, into whose territoryno white man had ever ventured and returned alive.

Were they a large tribe? No, not large, not overthree or four thousand, counting women and children.Their arms? These were spears and broadtwo-bladed knives, with great slings, from which theycould hurl large stones and pieces of flint withunerring accuracy, and bows and arrows. And nonumber of white men could stand against these unlessthey sheltered themselves in trenches or behind rocksand trees.

This ex-cannibal told them also that the land ofthis terrible tribe abounded in mineral wealth, in silverore and even in gold.

For this information Roland cared little; all hewished to do was to avenge poor Peggy's death. Ifhis men, after the fighting, chose to lay out claims hewould permit a certain number of them to do so, their names to be drawn by ballot. The rest mustaccompany the expedition back.

Dick's uncle needed but little persuasion to giveforty white men, fully armed and equipped, to swellRoland's little army of sixty whites. Besides these, they would have with them carriers andammunition-bearers-Indians from the plantations.

Dick was all life and fire. If they were successful,he himself, he said, would shoot the murderous chief,or stab him to the heart.

A brave show indeed did the little army make, whenall mustered and drilled, and every man there wasmost enthusiastic, for all had loved poor lost Peggy.

"I shall remain at my post here, I suppose," saidMr. Peter.

"If I do not alter my mind I shall leave you andJake, with Mr. Roberts, the tutor, to manage theestate in my absence," said Roland.

He did alter his mind, and, as the following willshow, he had good occasion to do so.

One evening the strange Indian Benee, betweenwhom and Peter there existed so much hatred, soughtRoland out when alone.

"Can I speakee you, all quiet foh true?"

"Certainly, my good fellow. Come into my study.Now, what is it you would say?"

"Dat Don Pedro no true man! I tinkee much, andI tinkee dat."

"Well, I know you don't love each other, Benee; but can you give me any proofs of his villainy?"

"You letee me go to-night all myse'f alone to debush. I tinkee I bring you someding strange. Somegood news. Ha! it may be so!"

"I give you leave, and believe you to be a faithfulfellow."

Benee seized his master's hand and bent down hishead till his brow touched it.

Next moment he was gone.

Next morning he was missed.

"Your pretty Indian," said Mr. Peter, with anill-concealed sneer, "is a traitor, then, after all, and aspy, and it was no doubt he who instigated theabduction and the murder, for the sake of revenge, ofyour poor little sister."

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Peter. If he, or anyoneelse on the plantation, is a traitor, he shall hangas high as Haman."

Peter cowered visibly, but smiled his agitation off.

And that same night about twelve, while Rolandsat smoking on the lawn with Dick, all in themoonlight, everyone else having retired-smoking andtalking of the happy past-suddenly the gate hingescreaked, and with a low growl Brawn sprang forward.But he returned almost immediately, wagging his tailand being caressed by Benee himself.

Silently stood the Indian before them, silently as astatue, but in his left hand he carried a small bundlebound up in grass. It was not his place to speakfirst, and both young men were a little startled at hissudden appearance.

"What, Benee! and back so soon from the forest?"

"Benee did run plenty quickee. Plenty jaguarwant eat Benee, but no can catchee."

"Well?"

"I would speekee you bof boys in de room."

The two started up together.

Here was some mystery that must be unravelled.

CHAPTER X-BENEE MAKES A STRANGE DISCOVERY

Benee followed them into Roland's quiet study, and placed his strange grass-girt bundle on acane chair.

Roland gave him a goblet of wine-and-water, whichhe drank eagerly, for he was faint and tired.

"Now, let us hear quickly what you have to say, Benee."

The Indian came forward, and his words, thoughuttered with some vehemence, and accompanied bymuch gesticulation, were delivered in almost a whisper.

It would have been impossible for any eavesdropperin the hall to have heard.

"Wat I tellee you 'bout dat Peter?" he began.

"My good friend," said Roland, "Peter accuses youof being a spy and traitor."

"I killee he!"

"No, you will not; if Peter is guilty, I will seethat justice overtakes him."

"Well, 'fore I go, sah, I speakee you and say Ibringee you de good news."

"Tell us quickly!" said Dick in a state of greatexcitement.

"Dis, den, is de good news: Missie Peggy not dead!No, no!"

"Explain, Benee, and do not raise false hopes inour breasts."

"De cannibals make believe she murder; dat all is."

"But have we not found portions of her raiment, her blood-dripping stockings, and also her charredremains?"

"Listen, sah. Dese cannibals not fools. Dey beatyou plenty of trail, so you can easily find de clearingwhere de fire was. Dey wis' you to go to dat tree tosee de blood, de shoe, and all. But when you seekeede trail after, where is she? Tellee me dat. MissiePeggy no murder. No, no. She am carried away, far away, as one prisint to de queen ob de cannibals."

"What were the bones, my good Benee?"

Then Benee opened his strange bundle, and therefell on the floor the half-burned skull and jaws of agigantic baboon.

"I find dat hid beside de tree. Ha, ha!"

"It is all clear now," said Roland. "My dear, faithful Benee," he continued, "can you guide us tothe country of the cannibals? You will meet yourreward, both here and hereafter."

"I not care. I lub Missie Peggy. Ah, she comebackee once moh, foh true!"

And now Dick Temple, the impulsive, must stepforward and seize Benee by the hand. "God blessyou!" he said; and indeed it was all he could say.

When the Indian had gone, Roland and Dick drewcloser together.

"The mystery," said the former, "seems to me,Dick, to be as dark and intricate as ever. I canunderstand the savages carrying poor Peggy away, but why the tricky deceit, the dropped shoe thatpoor, noble Brawn picked up, the pool of blood, therent and torn garments, and the half-charred bones?"

"Well, I think I can see through that, Roland. Ibelieve it was done to prevent your further pursuit; for, as Benee observes, the trail is left plainly enoughfor even a white man to see as far as the 'fire-tree'and on to the brook. But farther there is none."

"Well, granting all this; think you, Dick, that noone instigated them, probably even suggested thecrime and the infernal deceit they have practised?"

"Now you are thinking of, if not actually accusing,Mr. Peter?"

"I am, Dick. I have had my suspicions of him eversince a month after he came. It was strange howBenee hated him from the beginning, to say nothingof Brawn, the dog, and our dear lost Peggy."

"Cheer up!" said Dick. "Give Peter a show, thoughthings look dark against him."

"Yes," said Roland sternly, "and with us and ourexpedition he must and shall go. We can watch hisevery move, and if I find that he is a villain, may Godhave mercy on his soul! His body shall feed the eagles."

Dick Temple was a wild and reckless boy, it is true, and always first, if possible, in any adventure whichincluded a spice of danger, but he had a good deal ofcommon sense notwithstanding.

He mused a little, and rolled himself a freshcigarette before he replied.

"Your Mr. Peter," he said, "may or may not beguilty of duplicity, though I do not see the raisond'être for any such conduct, and I confess to you thatI look upon lynching as a wild kind of justice. Atthe same time I must again beg of you, Roland, togive the man a decent show."

"Here is my hand on that, Dick. He shall havejustice, even should that just finish with his danglingat a rope's end."

The two shortly after this parted for the night, each going to his own room, but I do not think thateither of them slept till long past midnight.

They were up in good time, however, for the bath, and felt invigorated and hungry after the dip.

They were not over-merry certainly, but Mrs. St. Clairwas quite changed, and just a little hystericallyhilarious. For as soon as he had tubbed, Roland hadgone to her bedroom and broken the news to herwhich Benee had brought.

That same forenoon Dick and Roland rode out tothe forest.

They could hear the boom and shriek and roar ofthe great buzz-saw long before they came near thewhite-men's quarters.

They saw Jake, – and busy enough he was too, – andtold him that they had some reason to doubt thehonesty or sincerity of Mr. Peter, and that they wouldtake him along with them.

"Thank God!" said Jake most fervently. "I myselfcannot trust a man whom a dog like Brawn and asavage like Benee have come to hate."

By themselves that day the young fellowscompleted their plans, and all would now be ready toadvance in a week's time.

That same day, however, on parade and in presenceof Mr. Peter, Roland made a little speech.

"We are going," he said, "my good fellows, on avery long and adventurous journey. Poor Miss Peggyis, as we all know" (this was surely a fib that wouldbe forgiven) "dead and gone, but we mean to followthese savages up to their own country, and deal themsuch a blow as will paralyse them for years. YellowCharlie yonder is himself one of their number, but hehas proved himself faithful, and has offered to be ourguide as soon as we enter unknown regions.

"I have," he added, "perfect faith in my white men, faith in Mr. Peter, whom I am taking with me-"

Peter took a step forward as if to speak, but Rolandwaved him back.

"And I know my working Indians will provethemselves good men and true.

"After saying this, it is hardly necessary to addthat if anyone is found attempting to desert ourcolumn, even should it be Burly Bill himself" (BurlyBill laughed outright), "he will be shot down as wewould shoot a puma or alligator."

There was a wild cheer after Roland stepped downfrom the balcony, and in this Mr. Peter seemed to joinso heartily that Roland's heart smote him.

For perhaps, after all, he had been unkind inthought to this man.

Time alone would tell.

The boys determined to leave nothing to chance, but ammunition was of even more importance thanfood. They hoped to find water everywhere, and thebiscuits carried, with the roots they should dig, wouldserve to keep the expedition alive and healthy, withthe aid of their good guns.

Medicine was not forgotten, nor medical comforts.

For three whole days Roland trained fast-runningIndians to pick up a trail. A man would be allowedto have three miles' start, and then, when he wasquite invisible, those human sleuth-hounds would belet loose, and they never failed to bring back theirprisoner after a time.

One man at least was much impressed by thesetrials of skill.

Just a week before the start, and late in the evening,Benee once more presented himself before our youngheroes.

"I would speakee you!"

"Well, Benee, say what you please, but all have notyet retired. Dick, get out into the hall, and warn usif anyone approaches."

Dick jumped up, threw his cigarette away, and didas he was told.

"Thus I speakee you and say," said Benee. "Youtrustee I?"

"Assuredly!"

"Den you let me go?"

"How and where?"

"I go fast as de wind, fleeter dan de rain-squall, farober de mountains ob Madeira, far froo' de wild, darkforest. I heed noting, I fear noting. No wil' beas'makee Benee 'fraid. I follow de cannibals. I reachde country longee time 'foh you. I creepee like onesnake to de hut ob poh deah Peggy. She no can flywid me, but I 'sure her dat you come soon, in twomoon p'laps, or free. I make de chile happy. Den Icreep and glide away again all samee one black snake, and come back to find you. I go?"

Roland took the man's hand. Savage though hewas, there was kindness and there was undoubtedsincerity in those dark, expressive eyes, and our heroat once gave the permission asked.

"But," he said, "the way is long and dangerous, mygood Benee, so here I give you two long-rangesix-shooters, a repeating-rifle, and a box of cartridges.May God speed your journey, and bring you safelyback with news that shall inspire our hearts! Go!"

Benee glided away as silently as he had come, andnext morning his place was found empty. But wouldtheir trust in this man reap its reward, or-awfuldoubt-was Benee false?

Next night but one something very strange happened.

All was silent in and around Burnley Hall, and thesilvery tones of the great tower clock had chimed thehour of three, when the window of Mr. Peter's roomwas silently opened, and out into the moonlight glidedthe man himself.

He carried in his hand a heavy grip-sack, andcommenced at once taking the path that led downwardsto the river.

Here lay the dinghy boat drawn up on the beach.She was secured with padlock and chain, but allRoland's officers carried keys.

It was about a quarter of a mile to the river-side, and Peter was proceeding at a fairly rapid rate, considering the weight of his grip-sack.

He had a habit of talking to himself. He was doingso now.

"I have only to drop well down the river andintercept a steamer. It is this very day they pass, and-"

Two figures suddenly glided from the bush andstood before him.

One sprang up behind, whom he could not see.

"Good-morning, Mr. Peter! Going for a walk early, aren't you? It's going to turn out a delightful day, Ithink."

They were white men.

"Here!" cried Peter, "advance but one step, or dareto impede my progress, and you are both dead men!I am a good shot, and happen, as you see, to have thedraw on you."

Next moment his right arm was seized from behind, the men in front ducked, and the first shot went off inthe air.

"Here, none o' that, guv'nor!" said a set, determinedvoice.

The revolver was wrenched from his grasp, and hefound himself on his back in the pathway.

"It is murder you'd be after! Eh?"

"Not so, my good fellow," said Peter. "I will explain."

"Explain, then."

"My duties are ended with Mr. Roland St. Clair.He owes me one month's wages. I have forfeited thatand given warning, and am going. That is all."

"You are going, are you? Well, we shall see about that."

"Yes, you may, and now let me pass on my peaceful way."

"He! he! he! But tell us, Mr. Peter, why thisspeedy departure? Hast aught upon thy conscience,or hast got a conscience?"

Peter had risen to his feet.

"Merely this. I claim the privilege of every workingman, that of giving leave. I am not strong, and I dreadthe long journey Mr. St. Clair and his little band areto take."

"But," said the other, "you came in such a questionableshape, and we were here to watch for stragglers, not of course thinking for a moment, Mr. Peter, thatyour French window would be opened, and that youyourself would attempt to take French leave.

"Now you really must get back to your bedroom, guv'nor, and see Mr. St. Clair in the morning. Mymates will do sentry-go at your window, and I shallbe by your door in case you need anything. It is amere matter of form, Mr. Peter, but of course we haveto obey orders. Got ere a drop of brandy in yourflask?"

Peter quickly produced quite a large bottle. Hedrank heavily himself first, and then passed itround.

But the men took but little, and Mr. Peter, half-intoxicated, allowed himself to be conducted to bed.

When these sentries gave in their report nextmorning to Roland, Mr. Peter did not rise a deal inthe young fellow's estimation.

"It only proves one thing," he said to Dick. "IfPeter is so anxious to give us the slip, we must watchhim well until we are far on the road towards thecannibals' land."

"That's so," returned Dick Temple.

Not a word was said to Peter regarding hisattempted flight when he sat down to breakfast withthe boys, and naturally enough he believed it had notbeen reported. Indeed he had some hazy remembranceof having offered the sentries a bribe to keep dark.

Mr. Peter ate very sparingly, and looked sadly fishyabout the eyes.

But he made no more attempts to escape just then.

CHAPTER XI-ALL ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS

That Benee was a good man and true we havelittle reason to doubt, up to the present time atall events.

Yet Dick Temple was, curiously enough, loth tobelieve that Mr. Peter was other than a friend. Andnothing yet had been proved against him.

"Is it not natural enough," said he to Roland, "thathe should funk-to put it in fine English-the terribleexpedition you and I are about to embark upon? Andknowing that you have commanded him to accompanyus would, in my opinion, be sufficient to account forhis attempt to escape and drop down the river to Pará,and so home to his own country. Roland, I repeat, wemust give the man a show."

"True," said Roland, "and poor Benee is having hisshow. Time alone can prove who the traitor is. If itbe Benee he will not return. On the contrary, he willjoin the savage captors of poor Peggy, and do all inhis power to frustrate our schemes."

No more was said.

But the preparations were soon almost completed, and in a day or two after this, farewells being said, the brave little army began by forced marches to findits way across country and through dense forestsand damp marshes, and over rocks and plains, to theMadeira river, high above its junction with the greatAmazon.

—

Meanwhile let us follow the lonely Indian in histerrible journey to the distant and unexplored landsof Bolivia.

Like all true savages, he despised the ordinaryroutes of traffic or trade; his track must be abee-line, guiding himself by the sun by day, but moreparticularly by the stars by night.

Benee knew the difference betwixt stars and planets.The latter were always shifting, but certain stars-mostto him were like lighthouses to mariners whoare approaching land-shone over the country of thecannibals, and he could tell from their very altitudehow much progress he was making night after night.

So lonesome, so long, was his thrice dreary journey, that had it been undertaken by a white man, in allprobability he would soon have been a raving maniac.

But Benee had all the cunning, all the daring, andall the wisdom of a true savage, and for weeks he felta proud exhilaration, a glorious sense of freedomand happiness, at being once more his own master, nowork to do, and hope ever pointing him onwards tohis goal.

What was that goal? it may well be asked. WasBenee disinterested? Did he really feel love for thewhite man and the white man's children? Can aughtsave selfishness dwell in the breast of a savage? Inbrief, was it he who had been the spy, he who wasthe guilty man; or was it Peter who was the villain?Look at it in any light we please, one thing iscertain, this strange Indian was making his way backto his own country and to his own friends, and Indiansare surely not less fond of each other than are thewild beasts who herd together in the forest, on themountain-side, or on the ice in the far-off land of thefrozen north. And well we know that these creatureswill die for each other.

If there was a mystery about Peter, there wassomething approaching to one about Benee also.

But then it must be remembered that since hisresidence on the St. Clair plantation, Benee had beentaught the truths of that glorious religion of ours, thereligion of love that smoothes the rugged paths of lifefor us, that gives a silver lining to every cloud ofgrief and sorrow, and gilds even the dark portals ofdeath itself.

Benee believed even as little children do. Andlittle Peggy in her quiet moods used to tell him thestory of life by redemption in her almost infantile way.

For all that, it is hard and difficult to vanquishold superstitions, and this man was only a savage atheart after all, though, nevertheless, there seemed tobe much good in his rough, rude nature, and youmay ofttimes see the sweetest and most lovely littleflowers growing on the blackest and ruggedest of rocks.

Well, this journey of Benee's was certainly nosinecure. Apart even from all the dangers attachedto it, from wild beasts and wilder men, it was one thatwould have tried the hardest constitution, if only forthe simple reason that it was all a series of forcedmarches.

There was something in him that was hurrying himon and encouraging him to greater and greaterexertions every hour. His daily record depended to agreat extent on the kind of country he had tonegotiate. He began with forty miles, but after a time, when he grew harder, he increased this to fifty andoften to sixty. It was at times difficult for him toforce his way through deep, dark forest and jungle, along the winding wild-beast tracks, past the beaststhemselves, who hid in trees ready to spring had hepaused but a second; through marshes and bogs, withhere and there a reedy lake, on which aquatic birds ofbrightest colours slept as they floated in the sunshine, but among the long reeds of which lay theever-watchful and awful cayman.

In such places as these, I think Benee owed hissafety to his utter fearlessness and sang-froid, and tothe speed at which he travelled.

It was not a walk by any means, but a strange kindof swinging trot. Such a gait may still be seen infar-off outlying districts of the Scottish Highlands, where it is adopted by postal "runners", who considerit not only faster but less tiresome than walking.

For the first hundred miles, or more, the lonelytraveller found himself in a comparatively civilizedcountry. This was not very much to his liking, andas a rule he endeavoured to give towns and villages, and even rubber forests, where Indians worked underwhite men overseers, a wide berth.

Yet sometimes, hidden in a tree, he would watchthe work going on; watch the men walking hitherand thither with their pannikins, or deftly whirlingthe shovels they had dipped in the sap-tub andholding them in the dark smoke of the palm-tree nuts, orhe would listen to their songs. But it was with nofeeling of envy; it was quite the reverse.

For Benee was free! Oh what a halo of happinessand glory surrounds that one little word "Free"!

Then this lonely wanderer would hug himself, as itwere, and, dropping down from his perch, start offonce more at his swinging trot.

Even as the crow flies, or the bee wings its flight, the length of Benee's journey would be over sixhundred miles. But it was impossible for anyone tokeep a bee-line, owing to the roughness of the countryand the difficulties of every kind to be overcome, sothat it is indeed impossible to estimate the magnitudeof this lone Indian's exploit.

His way, roughly speaking, lay between the MadeiraRiver and the Great Snake River called Puras (videmap); latterly it would lead him to the lofty regionsand plateaux of the head-waters of Maya-tata, calledby the Peruvians the Madre de Dios, or Holy VirginRiver.

But hardly a day now passed that he had not astream of some kind to cross, and wandering by itsbanks seeking for a ford delayed him considerably.

He was journeying thus one morning when thesound of human voices not far off made him creepquickly into the jungle.

The men did not take long to put in an appearance.

A portion of some wandering, hunting, or lootingtribe they were, and cut-throat looking scoundrelseveryone of them-five in all.

They were armed with bows and arrows and withspears. Their arrows, Benee could see, were tippedwith flint, and the flint was doubtless poisoned. Theycarried also slings and broad knives in their belts ofskin. The slings are used in warfare, but they are alsoused by shepherds-monsters who, like many in thiscountry, know not the meaning of the words "mercyto dumb animals" – on their poor sheep.

These fellows, who now lay down to rest and to eat, much to Benee's disgust, not to say dismay, wereprobably a party of llama (pronounced yahmah)herds or shepherds who had, after cutting theirmaster's throat, banded together and taken to thisroving life.

So thought Benee, at all events, for he could seemany articles of European dress, such as daintyscarves of silk, lace handkerchiefs, &c., as well asbrooches, huddled over their own clothing, and onefierce-looking fellow pulled out a gold watch andpretended to look at the time.

So angry was Benee that his savage nature gotuppermost, and he handled his huge revolvers in anervous way that showed his anxiety to open fireand spoil the cut-throats' dinner. But he restrainedhimself for the time being.

In addition to the two revolvers, Benee carried therepeating rifle. It was the fear of spoiling hisammunition that led to his being in this dreadful fix. Butfor his cartridges he could have swum the river withthe speed of a gar-fish.

What a long, long time they stayed, and how veryleisurely they munched and fed!

A slight sound on his left flank caused Benee togaze hastily round. To his horror, he found himselfface to face with a puma.

Here was indeed a dilemma!

If he fired he would make his presence known, andsmall mercy could he expect from the cut-throats.At all hazards he determined to keep still.

The yellow eyes of this American lion flared andglanced in a streak of sunshine shot downwardsthrough the bush, and it was this probably whichdimmed his vision, for he made no attempt to springforward.

Benee dared scarcely to breathe; he could hearthe beating of his own heart, and could not helpwondering if the puma heard it too.

At last the brute backed slowly astern, with awriggling motion.

But Benee gained courage now.

During the long hours that followed, several greatsnakes passed him so closely that he could havetouched their scaly backs. Some of these were litheand long, others very thick and slow in motion, butnearly all were beautifully coloured in metallic tintsof crimson, orange, green, and bronze, and all werepoisonous.

The true Bolivian, however, has but little fear ofsnakes, knowing that unless trodden upon, orotherwise actively interfered with, they care not to wastetheir venom by striking.

At long, long last the cut-throats got up to leave.They would before midnight no doubt reach somelonely outpost and demand entertainment at thepoint of the knife, and if strange travellers werethere, sad indeed would be their fate.

Benee now crawled, stiff and cramped, out from hisdamp and dangerous hiding-place. He found a fordnot far off, and after crossing, he set off once more athis swinging trot, and was soon supple and happy enough.

On and on he went all that day, to make up for losttime, and far into the starry night.

The hills were getting higher now, the valleysdeeper and damper between, and stream after streamhad to be forded.

It must have been long past eight o'clock when, just as Benee was beginning to long for food and rest, his eyes fell on a glimmering light at the foot of ahigh and dark precipice.

He warily ventured forward and found it proceededfrom a shepherd's hut; inside sat the man himself, quietly eating a kind of thick soup, the basin flankedby a huge flagon of milk, with roasted yams. Great, indeed, was the innocent fellow's surprise when Beneepresented himself in the doorway. A few words inBolivian, kindly uttered by our wayfarer, immediatelyput the man at ease, however, and before long Beneewas enjoying a hearty supper, followed by a brew ofexcellent maté.

He was a very simple son of the desert, thisshepherd, but a desultory kind of conversation wasmaintained, nevertheless, until far into the night.

For months and months, he told Benee, he hadlived all alone with his sheep in these grassy uplands, having only the companionship of his half-wild, butfaithful dog. But he was contented and happy, andhad plenty to eat and drink.

It was just sunrise when Benee awoke from a longrefreshing sleep on his bed of skins. There was theodour of smoke all about, and presently the shepherdhimself bustled in and bade him "Good-morning!", or"Heaven's blessing!" which is much the same.

A breakfast of rough, black cake, with butter, friedfish, and maté, made Benee as happy as a king and asfresh as a mountain trout, and soon after he saidfarewell and started once more on his weary road.The only regret he experienced rose from the fact thathe had nothing wherewith to reward this kindlyshepherd for his hospitality.

Much against his will, our wanderer had now tomake a long detour, for not even a goat could havescaled the ramparts of rock in front of him.

In another week he found himself in one of thebleakest and barrenest stretches of country that itis possible to imagine. It was a high plateau, andcovered for the most part with stunted bushes andwith crimson heath and heather.

Benee climbed a high hill that rose near him, andas he stood on the top thereof, just as the sun in aglory of orange clouds and crimson rose slowly andmajestically over the far-off eastern forest, a scenepresented itself to him that, savage though he was, caused him for a time to stand mute with admirationand wonder.

Then he remembered what little Peggy told himonce in her sweet and serious voice: "Always pray atsunrise".

 

"Always pray at sunrise,

For 'tis God who makes the day;

When shades of evening gather round

Kneel down again and pray.

And He, who loves His children dear,

Will send some angel bright

To guard you while you're sleeping sound

And watch you all the night."

 

And on this lonely hill-top Benee did kneel downto pray a simple prayer, while golden clouds werechanging to bronze and snowy white, and far off onthe forest lands hazy vapours were still stretchedacross glens and valleys.

As he rose from his knees he could hear, away downbeneath him, a wild shout, and gazing in the directionfrom which it came, he saw seven semi-nude savageshurrying towards the mountain with the evidentintention of making him prisoner.

It was terrible odds; but as there was no escape,Benee determined to fight.

As usual, they were armed with bow and arrow and sling.

Indeed, they commenced throwing stones with greatprecision before they reached the hill-foot, and one ofthese fell at Benee's feet.

Glad, indeed, was he next minute to find himself ina kind of natural trench which could have been heldby twenty men against a hundred.

On and up, crawling on hands and knees, came thesavages.

But Benee stood firm, rifle in hand, and waitinghis chance.