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




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.




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