Kitobni o'qish: «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.

CHAPTER XII-BENEE ENTRENCHED-SAVAGE REVELS IN THE FOREST

The trench in which he found himself was farhigher than was necessary, and fronted by hugestones. It was evidently the work of human hands, but by what class of people erected Benee could notimagine.

He could spare a few boulders anyhow, so, whilethe enemy was still far below, he started first one, then another, and still another, on a cruise down themountain-side and on a mission of death.

These boulders broke into scores of large fragmentslong before they reached the savages, two of whomwere struck, one being killed outright.

And Benee knew his advantage right well, and, taking careful aim now with his repeating-rifle-asixteen-shooter it was, – he fired.

He saw the bullet raise the dust some yards aheadof the foe, who paused to gaze upwards in greatamazement.

But next shot went home, for Benee had got therange, and one of the five threw up his hands witha shriek, and fell on his face, to rise no more.

Rendered wild by the loss of their companions, theothers drew their knives and made a brave start forBenee's trench.

But what could poor savages do against the deadlyfire of civilized warfare. When another of theirnumber paid the penalty of his rashness, the otherthree took fright and went racing and tumbling downthe hill so quickly that no more of Benee's shots tookeffect.

Roland had given Benee a field-glass before hestarted, and through this he watched the flying figuresfor many a mile, noting exactly the way they took, and determining in his own mind to choose a somewhatdifferent route, even though he should have tomake a wide detour.

He started downhill almost immediately, well-knowingthat these dark-skinned devils would returnreinforced to seek revenge.

He knew, moreover, that they could follow up atrail, so he did all in his power to pick out the hardestparts of this great moorland on which to walk.

He came at last to a stream. It was very shallow, and he plunged in at once.

This was indeed good luck, and Benee thought nowthat Peggy's God, who paints the sky at sunrise, was really looking after him. He could baulk hispursuers now, or, at least, delay them. For theywould not be able to tell in which direction he hadgone.

So Benee walked in the water for three miles.This walk was really a leaping run. He would havegone farther, but all at once the stream became veryrapid indeed, and on his ears fell the boom of awaterfall.

So he got on shore with all haste.

But for five miles on from the foot of the leaping, dashing, foaming linn, the stream was flanked byacres of round, smooth boulders.

These could tell no tale. On these Benee wouldleave no trail. He leapt from one to the other, andwas rejoiced at last to find that they led him to aforest.

This was indeed a grateful surprise, so he enteredthe shade at once.

Benee, after his exciting fight and his very longrun, greatly needed rest, so he gathered some splendidfruit and nuts, despite the chattering and threatenedattacks of a whole band of hideous baboons, and thenthrew himself down under the shade of a tree ina small glade and made a hearty meal.

He felt thirsty now. But as soon as there wassilence once more in the forest, and even the parrotshad gone to sleep in the drowsy noontide heat, hecould hear the rush of water some distance ahead.

He got up immediately and marched in the directionfrom which the sound came, and was soon on thepebbled shore of another burn.

He drank a long, sweet draught of the cool, delicious water, and felt wondrously refreshed.

And now a happy thought occurred to him.

Sooner or later he felt certain the savages wouldfind his trail. They would track him to this streamand believe he had once again tried to break thepursuit by wading either up or down stream.

His plan was, therefore, to go carefully back on histracks and rest hidden all day until, foiled in theirattempt to make him prisoner, they should returnhomeward.

This plan he carried into immediate execution, andin a thicket, quite screened from all observation, helaid him down.

He was soon fast asleep.

But in probably a couple of hours' time he satcautiously up, and, gently lifting a branch, lookedforth.

For voices had fallen on his ear, and next minutethere went filing past on his trail no fewer than fifteenwell-armed warriors.

They stopped dancing and shouting at the treewhere Benee had sat down to feed, then, brandishingtheir broad knives, dashed forward to the stream.

They had evidently gone up the river for miles, but finding no trail on the other bank returned tosearch the down-stream.

In his hiding-place Benee could hear their wildshouts of vengeance-deferred, and though he fearednot death, right well he knew that neither his riflenor revolvers could long protect him against suchdesperate odds as this.

There was now peace once more, and the shades ofevening-the short tropical gloaming-were fallingwhen he heard the savages returning.

He knew their language well.

It was soon evident that they did not mean to goany farther that night, for they were quite tired out.

They were not unprovided with food and drinksuch as it was, and evidently meant to makethemselves happy.

A fire was soon lit in the glade, and by its glarepoor Benee, lying low there and hardly daring tomove a limb, could see the sort of savages he wouldhave to deal with if they found him.

They were fierce-looking beyond conception. Mostof them had long matted hair, and the ears of somecarried the hideous pelele. The lobe of each ear ispierced when the individual is but a boy, and isgradually stretched until it is a mere strip of skincapable of supporting a bone or wooden, grooved littlewheel twice as large as a dollar. The stretched lobeof the ear fits round this like the tyre round a bicyclewheel.

The faces of these men, although wild-looking, werenot positively ill-favoured, though the mouths werelarge and sensual. But if ever devil lurked in humaneyes it lurked in theirs.

They wore blankets, and some had huge chains ofgold and silver nuggets round their necks.

Their arms were now piled, or, more correctlyspeaking, they were trundled down in a heap by thetree.

While most of them lay with their feet to the nowroaring fire, a space was left for the cook, whocleverly arranged a kind of gipsy double-trident overthe clear embers and commenced to get ready the meal.

The uprights carried cross pieces of wood, and onthese both fish and flesh were laid to broil, while largeyams and sweet-potatoes were placed in the ashes toroast.

By the time dinner was cooked the night was darkenough, but the glimmer of the firelight lit up thesavages' faces and cast Rembrandtesque shadows farbehind.

It was a weird and terrible scene, but it had littleeffect on Benee, who had often witnessed tableaux farmore terrifying than this.

Then the orgie commenced. They helped themselveswith their fingers and tore the fish and flesh offwith their splendid teeth.

Huge chattees of chicaga, a most filthy butintoxicating beer, now made their appearance. It wasevident enough that these men were used to being onthe war-path and hunting-field.

The wine or beer is made in a very disgustingmanner, but its manufacture, strangely enough, isnot confined to Bolivia. I have seen much the sameliquor in tropical Africa, made by the Somali Indians, and in precisely the same way.

The old women or hags of the village are assembledat, say, a chief's house, and large quantities ofcocoanuts and various other fruits are heaped together inthe centre of a hut, as well as large, tub-like vesselsand chattees of water.

Down the old and almost toothless hags squat, and, helping themselves to lumps of cocoa-nut, &c., they commence to mumble and chew these, now andthen moistening their mouths with a little water, thejuice is spit out into calabashes, and when these arefull of the awful mess they are emptied into the big bin.

It is a great gala-day with these hideous old hags,a meeting that they take advantage of not only formaking wine but for abusing their neighbours.

How they cackle and grin, to be sure, as theirmouths work to and fro! How they talk and chatter, and how they chew! It is chatter and chew, chewand chatter, all the time, and the din they make withteeth and tongues would deafen a miller.

When all is finished, the bins are left to settleand ferment, and in three days' time, thesupernatant liquor is poured off and forms the winecalled chicaga.

Had anyone doubted the intoxicating power ofthis vilest of all vile drinks, a glance at the scenewhich soon ensued around the fire would speedilyhave convinced him.

Benee lay there watching these fiends as theygradually merged from one phase of drunkenness toanother, and fain would he have sent half a dozenrevolver bullets into the centre of the group, but hislife depended on his keeping still.

The savages first confined themselves to merrytalking, with coarse jokes and ribaldry, and frequentoutbursts of laughter. But when they had quaffedstill more, they must seize their knives and get up todance. Round and round the blazing fire they whirledand staggered through the smoke and through itagain, with demoniacal shouts and awful yells, thatawakened echoes among the forest wild beasts farand near.

Then they pricked their bodies with their knivestill the blood ran, and with this they splashed eachother in hideous wantonness till faces and clothes weresmeared in gore.

All this could but have one ending-a fight.

Benee saw one savage stabbed to the heart, and thenthe orgie became a fierce battle.

Now was Benee's time to escape.

Yet well he knew how acute the power of hearingis among the Bolivian savages. One strange noise, even the crackle of a bush, and the fighting wouldend in a hunt, and he would undoubtedly lose his life.

But he wriggled and crawled like a snake in thegrass until twenty yards away, and now he movedcautiously, slowly off.

Soon the glare of the fire among the high treeswas seen no more, and the yelling and cries were farbehind and getting more and more indistinct everyminute.

Benee refreshed himself at the stream, pulled somefood from his pocket, and ate it while he ran.

He knew, however, that after fighting would comedrowsiness, and that his late entertainers would soonbe fast asleep, some of their heads pillowed, perhaps,on the dead body of their murdered comrade.

If there be in all this world a more demonish wretchthan man is in a state of nature, or when-even amongChristians-demoralized by drink, I wish to get holdof a specimen for my private menagerie. But thecreature should be kept in a cage by itself. I wouldnot insult my monkeys with the companionship ofsuch a wretch, should it be man or beast.

CHAPTER XIII-THE MARCH TO THE LOVELESS LAND

On and on hurried Benee now, at his old swinging trot.

On and on beneath the splendid stars, his onlycompanions, that looked so calmly sweet and appeared sonear. God's angels surely they, speaking, as theygazed down, words from their home on high, peaceand good-will to men, and happiness to all that livedand breathed.

On and on over plains, through moor and marsh,by lake and stream, by forest dark and jungle wild.It was evident that Benee meant to put leaguesbetween himself and the camp of his recent enemiesbefore each star grew beautiful and died; before thefiery sun leapt red above the eastern hills, and turnedthe darkness into day.

Benee had come onwards with such a rush thateven the slimy alligators, by pond or brown lake, lefttheir lairs among the tall nodding reeds and dashed interror into the water.

Prowling wild beasts, the jaguar and puma, alsohurried off at his approach, and many a scared birdflew screaming up into the darkling air.

But Benee heeded nothing. His way lay yonder.That bright particular star away down on thesouthwestern horizon shone over the great unexploredregion of Bolivia.

Morning after morning it would be higher andhigher above him, and when it shone at an angle offorty-five degrees he would be approaching the landof the cannibals.

Yes, but it was still a far cry to that country. Bythe time the sun did rise, and the mists gatheredthemselves off the valleys and glens that lay low beneathhim, Benee felt sadly in want of rest.

He found a tree that would make him a good sleepingplace, for the country he was now traversing aboundedin hideous snakes and gigantic lizards, and he courtednot the companionship of either.

The tree was an Abies of some undefined species.

Up and up crawled Benee, somewhat encumberedby his arms.

He got through a kind of "lubbers' hole" at last, though with much difficulty, and, safe enough here,he curled up with his face to the stem, and was soonso fast asleep that cannons could not have awakened him.

But satisfied Nature got uneasy at last, and far ontowards evening he opened his eyes and wonderedwhere he was.

Still only half-awake, he staggered to his feet andmade a step forward. It was only to fall over theend of a huge matted branch, but this branch loweredhim gently on to the one immediately beneath it, andthis down to the next, and so on. A strange mode ofprogression certainly, but Benee found himself sittingon the ground at last, as safe and sound as if he hadcome down in a parachute.

Then his recollection came back to him. He soughtout some fruit-trees now and made a hearty meal, quenched his thirst at a spring, and once moreresumed his journey.

For three days he marched onwards, but always bynight. The country was not safe by day, and hepreferred the companionship of wild beasts to that ofwilder men. In this Benee was wise.

But awaking somewhat earlier one afternoon, hesaw far beneath him, a town, and in Benee's eyes itwas a very large one.

And now a happy idea struck him. He had money, and here was civilization. By and by he would be inthe wilds once more, and among savages who knewnothing of cash. Why should he not descend, mixwith the giddy throng, and make purchases of redcloth, of curios, and of beads. He determined to do so.

But it would not do to go armed. So he hid hisrifle and pistols in the bush, covering them carefullyup with dried grass. Then he commenced the descent.Yes, the little town, the greater part of which wasbuilt of mud hovels, was full, and the streets crowded, many in the throng being Spaniards, Peruvians, andPortuguese.

Benee sauntered carelessly on and presently came tothe bazaar.

Many of the police eyed him curiously, and one ortwo followed him.

But he had no intention of being baulked in his purpose.

So he entered a likely shop, and quickly made hispurchases.

Wrapping these carefully up, he slung the bundleover his shoulder and left.

He stumbled over a lanky Portuguese policeman afew yards off.

The man would have fallen had not Benee seizedhim in his iron grasp and brought him again to hisequilibrium.

Then he spoke a few words in Bolivian, and madesigns that he wished to eat and drink.

"Aguardiente!" said the officer, his eyes sparklingwith joy.

He had really harboured some intentions of throwingBenee into the tumble-down old prison, but adrink would be a far better solution of the difficulty, and he cheerfully led the way to a sort of hotel.

And in twenty minutes' time this truly intelligentmember of the force and Benee were lying on skinmats with apparently all the good things in this lifespread out before them.

The officer was curious, as all such men are, whetherheathens or not, to know all about Benee, and put tohim a score of questions at least, part of which Beneereplied to with a delicate and forgivable fib.

So the policeman was but little wiser at the end ofthe conversation than he was at the beginning.

About half an hour before sunset, Benee was oncemore far up on the moorlands, and making straightfor the place where he had hidden his guns andammunition.

But he stopped short and stared with astonishmentwhen, before rounding the corner of the wood, a pistolshot rang out in the quiet air, followed by the mostterrible shrieking and howling he had ever listened to.

He hurried on quickly enough now, and as he didso, a whole herd of huge monkeys, apparently scaredout of their senses, rushed madly past him.

Close to the jungle he found one of his revolvers.One chamber had been emptied, and not far off lay ababoon in the agonies of death. Benee, who, savagethough he was, evidently felt for the creature, mercifully expended another shot on it, and placed itbeyond the reach of woe.

He was glad to find his rifle and other revolverintact, but the cartridges from his belt were scatteredabout in all directions, and strenuous efforts hadevidently been made to tear open his leathernammunition-box.

It took some time to make everything straight again.

Now down went the sun, and very soon, after ashort twilight, out came the stars once more.

Benee now resumed his journey as straight as hecould across the plateau.

He had not travelled many hours, however, beforeclouds began to bank up and obscure the sky, and itbecame very dark.

A storm was brewing, and, ushered in by low mutteringthunder in the far distance, it soon came on in earnest.

As the big drops of rain began to fall, shining in theflashes of the lightning like a shower of molten gold,Benee sought the shelter of a rocky cave which wasnear to him.

He laid him down on the rough dry grass to waituntil the storm should clear away.

He felt drowsy, however. Perhaps the unusuallygood fare he had partaken of in the village hadsomething to do with this; but of late his hardships hadbeen very great indeed, so it is no wonder that nowexhausted Nature claimed repose.

The last thing he was conscious of was a long, low, mournful cry that seemed to come from the far interiorof the cave.

It was broad daylight when he again awoke, andsuch an awakening!

Great snowy-breasted owls sat blinking at thelight, but all the rocks around, or the shelves thereof, were alive with coiling, wriggling snakes of huge size.

One had twined round his leg, and he knew that ifhe but moved a muscle, it would send its terriblefangs deep into his flesh, and his journey would be atan end.

Gradually, however, the awful creature unwounditself and wriggled away.

The sight of this snake-haunted cave was too muchfor even Benee's nerves, and he sprang up and speedilydashed, all intact, into the open air.

—

Notwithstanding his extraordinary adventure inthe cave of serpents, the wandering Indian felt infine form that day.

The air was now much cooler after the storm, allthe more so, no doubt, that Benee was now travellingon a high table-land which stretched southwards andwest in one long, dreary expanse till bounded on thehorizon by ridges of lofty serrated mountains, in thehollow of which, high in air, patches of snow rested, and probably had so rested for millions of years.

The sky was very bright. The trees at this elevation,as well as the fruit, the flowers, and stuntedshrubs, were just such as one finds at the Cape of GoodHope and other semi-tropical regions. The groundon which he walked or trotted along was a mass ofbeauty and perfume, rich pink or crimson heaths, heather and geraniums everywhere, with patches ofpine-wood having little or no undergrowth. Manyrare and beautiful birds lilted and sang their songsof love on every side, strange larks were high in air, some lighting every now and then on the ground, themusic of their voices drawn out as they glideddownwards into one long and beautiful cadence.

There seemed to be a sadness in these last notes, asif the birds would fain have warbled for ever and foraye at heaven's high gate, though duty drew themback to this dull earth of ours.

But dangers to these feathered wildlings hoveredeven in the sunlit sky, and sometimes turned the songsof those speckled-breasted laverocks into wails ofdespair.

Behold yonder hawk silently darting from thepine-wood! High, high he darts into the air; he haspositioned his quarry, and downwards now he swoopslike Indian arrow from a bow, and the lark's brightand happy song is hushed for ever. His beautiful matesitting on her cosy nest with its five brown eggs looksup astonished and frightened. Down fall a few dropsof red blood, as if the sky had wept them. Downflutter a few feathers, and her dream of happiness isa thing of the past.

And that poor widowed lark will forsake her eggsnow, and wander through the heath and the scrub tillshe dies.

—

Benee had no adventures to-day, but, seeing far offa band of travellers, he hid himself in the afternoon.For our Indian wanted no company.

He watched them as they came rapidly on towardshis hiding-place, but they struck off to the east longbefore reaching it, and made for the plains andvillage far below.

Then Benee had his dinner and slept soundlyenough till moonrise, for bracing and clear washeaven's ozonic breath in these almost Alpine regions.

Only a scimitar of a moon. Not more than threedays old was it, yet somehow it gave hope and heartto the lonely traveller. He remembered when a boyhe had been taught to look upon the moon as a goodangel, but Christianity had banished superstition, andhe was indeed a new man.

After once more refreshing himself, he started onhis night march, hoping to put forty miles behindhim ere the sun rose.

Low lay the white haze over the woods a sheerseven thousand feet beneath him.

It looked like snow-drifts on the darkling green.

Yet here and there, near to places where the riverglistened in the young moon's rays were bunches oflights, and Benee knew he was not far from townsand civilization. Much too near to be agreeable.

He knew, however, that a few days more of hislong weary march would bring him far away fromthese to regions unknown to the pale-face, to a landon which Christian feet had never trodden, a lovelessland, a country that reeked with murder, a countrythat seemed unblessed by heaven, where all was moraldarkness, as if indeed it were ruled by demons andfiends, who rejoiced only in the spilling of blood.

But, nevertheless, it was Benee's own land, and hecould smile while he gazed upwards at the nowdescending moon.

Benee never felt stronger or happier than he didthis evening, and he sang a strange wild song tohimself, as he journeyed onwards, a kind of chant towhich he kept step.

A huge snake, black as a winter's night, uncoileditself, hissed, and darted into the heath to hide. Beneeheeded it not. A wild beast of some sort sprang pasthim with furious growl. Benee never even raisedhis rifle. And when he came to the banks of areed-girt lake, and saw his chance of shooting a hugecayman, he cared not to draw a bead thereon. Hejust went on with his chant and on with his walk.Benee was truly happy and hopeful for once in his life.

And amid such scenery, beneath such a galaxy ofresplendent stars, who could have been aught else?

 
"How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of heaven.
In glory yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark-blue depths,
Beneath her steely ray
The desert circle spreads,
Like the round ocean girdled with the sky.
How beautiful the night!"
 

But almost before he could have believed it possible,so quickly do health and happiness cause time to fly, along line of crimson cloud, high in the east, betokenedthe return of another day.

The night-owls and the great flitting vampire batssaw it and retreated to darksome caves. There washeard no longer far over the plain the melancholyhowl of the tiger-cat or snarl of puma or jaguar.

Day was coming!

Day was come!

CHAPTER XIV-THE HOME OF THE CANNIBAL-BENEE'S ROMANCE

Like the bats and the night-birds Benee now creptinto concealment.

He sought once more the shelter of a tall pine-treeof the spruce species. Here he could be safe and herehe could sleep.

But after a hearty meal he took the precaution tolash himself to the stem, high, high up.

His descent from the last tree had been accomplishedwith safety certainly, but it was of rather apeculiar nature, and Benee had no desire to risk hisneck again.

The wind softly sighed in the branches.

A bird of the thrush species alighted about a yardabove him, and burst into shrill sweet melody towelcome the rising sun.

With half-closed eyes Benee could see from underthe branches a deep-orange horizon, fading into puresea-green zenithwards, then to deepest purple andblue where rested the crimson clouds.

And now there was a glare of brighter and moresilvery light, and the red streaks were turned intowreaths of snow.

The sun was up, and Benee slept. But he carriedthat sweet bird's song into dreamland.

—

About three days after this Benee was rejoiced tofind himself in a new land, but it was a land he knewwell-too well.

Though very high above the sea-level it was inreality a

"Land of the mountain and the flood".

Hills on hills rose on all sides of him. There werestraths or valleys of such exceeding beauty that theygladdened the eye to behold. The grass grew greenhere by the banks of many a brown roaring stream, and here, too, cattle roamed wild and free, knee-deepin flowery verdure, and many a beautiful guanacoand herds of llamas everywhere. The streams thatmeandered through these highland straths weresometimes very tortuous, but perhaps a mile distant theywould seem to lose all control of themselves and gomadly rushing over their pebbly beds, till they dashedover high cliffs at last, forming splendid cascades thatfell into deep, dark, agitated pools, the mist that roseabove forming rainbows which were never absentwhen the sun shone.

And the hillsides that bounded these valleys wereclad in Alpine verdure, with Alpine trees and flowers, strangely intermingled with beautiful heaths, and inthe open glades with gorgeous geraniums, and manya lovely flower never seen even in greenhouses in our"tame domestic England".

These were valleys, but there were glens and narrowgorges also, where dark beetling rocks frowned overthe brown waters of streams that rushed fiercelyonwards round rocks and boulders, against which theylashed themselves into foam.

On these rocks strange fantastic trees clung, sometimes attached but by the rootlets, sometimes withtheir heads hanging almost sheer downwards; treesthat the next storm of wind would hurl, with crashand roar, into the water far beneath.

Yet such rivers or big burns were the home parexcellence of fish of the salmon tribe, and gazing belowyou might see here and there some huge otter, warilywatching to spring on his finny prey.

Nor were the otters alone on the qui vive, for, strange as it may seem, even pumas and tiger-catsoften made a sullen dive into dark-brown pools, andemerged bearing on high some lordly red-bellied fish.With this they would "speel" the flowery, ferny rocks, and dart silently away into the depths of the forest.

And this wild and beautiful country, at presentinhabited by as wild a race of Indians as ever twangedthe bow, but bound at no very distant date to comeunder the influence of Christianity and civilization, was Benee's real home. 'Twas here he roamed whena boy, for he had been a wanderer all his life, a nomad, and an inhabitant of the woods and wilds.

Not a scene was unfamiliar to him. He couldname every mountain and hill he gazed upon in hisown strangely musical Indian tongue. Every bird, every creature that crept, or glided, or walked, allwere his old friends; yes, and every tree and everyflower, from the splendid parasitic plants that woundaround the trees wherever the sun shone the brightest, and draped them in such a wealth of beauty as wouldhave made all the richness and gaudiness of whitekings and queens seem but a caricature.

There was something of romance even in Benee.As he stood with folded arms on the brink of acliff, and gazed downward into a charming glen, something very like tears stood in his eyes.

He loved his country. It was his own, his nativeland. But the savages therein he had ceased to love.Because when but a boy-ah, how well he rememberedthat day, – he was sent one day by his fatherand mother to gather the berries of a deadly kind ofthorn-bush, with the juice of which the flints in thepoints of the arrows were poisoned. Coming backto his parents' hut in the evening, as happy as boysonly can be, he found the place in flames, and sawhis father, mother, and a sister whom he loved, beinghurried away by the savages, because the queen hadneed of them. The lot of death had fallen on them.Their flesh was wanted to make part of a great feasther majesty was about to give to a neighbouringpotentate. Benee, who had ever been used to huntfor his food as a boy, or fish in the lakes and thebrown roaring streams, that he and his parents mightlive, had always abhorred human sacrifice and humanflesh. The latter he had seldom been prevailed uponeven to taste.

So from that terrible day he resolved to be awanderer, and he registered a vow-if I may speak soconcerning the thoughts of a poor boy-Indian-to takerevenge when he became a man on this very tribethat had brought such grief and woe on him and his.

Benee was still a young man, but little overtwo-and-twenty, and as he stood there thoughts came intohis mind about a little sweetheart he had when a boy.

Wee Weenah was she called; only a child of six whenhe was good sixteen. But in all his adventures, inforest or by the streams, Weenah used to accompanyhim. They used to be away together all day long, and lived on the nuts and the wild fruit that greweverywhere so plentifully about them, on trees, onbushes, or on the flowery banks.

Where was Weenah now? Dead, perhaps, or takenaway to the queen's blood-stained court. As a childWeenah was very beautiful, for many of these Indiansare very far indeed from being repulsive.

And Benee used to delight to dress his tiny lady-lovein feathers of the wild birds, crimson and greenand blue, and weave her rude garlands of the gaudiestflowers, to hang around her neck, or entwine in herlong dark hair.

He had gone to see Weenah-though he was thenin grief and tears-after he had left his father's burntshealing. He had told her that he was going awayfar to the north, that he was to become a hunter ofthe wilds, that he might even visit the homes of thewhite men, but that some day he would return andWeenah should be his wife.

So they had parted thus, in childish grief and tears, and he had never seen her since.

He might see her nevermore.

While musing thus to himself, he stretched his wearylimbs and body on the sweet-scented mossy cliff-top.

It was day certainly, but was he not now at home,in his own, his native land?

He seemed to be afraid of nothing, therefore, andso-he fell asleep.

The bank on which he slept adjoined a darkling forest.

A forest of strange dark pines, with red-brownstems, which, owing to the absence of all undergrowthsave heather and moss and fern, looked like the pillarsof some vast cavern.

But there was bird music in this forest, and Beneehad gone to sleep with the flute-like and mellow notesof the soo-soo falling on his ear.

The soo-soo's song had accompanied him to the landof forgetfulness, and was mingling even now with hisdreams-happy dreams of long ago.

But list! Was that really the song of the bronze-neckedsoo-soo?

He was half-awake now, but apparently dreaming still.

He thought he was dreaming at all events, andwould not have opened his eyes and so dispelled thedream for all the world.

It was a sweet girlish voice that seemed to besinging-singing about him, about Benee thewanderer in sylvan wilds; the man who for long yearshad been alone because he loved being alone, whosehand-until he reached the white man's home-hadbeen against everyone, and against every beast as well.

And the song was a kind of sweet little ballad, which I should try in vain to translate.

But Benee opened his eyes at last, and his astonishmentknew no bounds as he saw, kneeling by hismossy couch, the self-same Weenah that he had beenthinking and dreaming about.

Though still a girl in years, being but thirteen, sheseemed a woman in all her sympathies.

Beautiful? Yes; scarcely changed as to face fromthe child of six he used to roam in the woods with inthe long, long ago. Her dark hair hung to her waistand farther in two broad plaits. Her black eyesbrimmed over with joy, and there was a flush ofexcitement on her sun-kissed cheeks.

"Weenah! Oh, Weenah! Can it be you?" heexclaimed in the Indian tongue.

"It is your own little child-love, your Weenah; andah! how I have longed for you, and searched for youfar and near. See, I am clad in the skins of thepuma and the otter; I have killed the jaguar, too, andI have been far north and fought with terrible men.They fell before the poison of my arrows. Theytried to catch me; but fleet of foot is Weenah, andthey never can see me when I fly. In trees I haveslept, on the open heather, in caves of rocks, and injungle. But never, never could I find my Benee.Ah! life of mine, you will never go and leave us again.

"Yes," she added, "Mother and Father live, and arewell. Our home have we enlarged. 'Tis big now, and there is room in it for Benee.

"Come; come-shall we go? But what strange, strange war-weapons you carry. Ah! they are thefire-spears of the white man."

"Yes, Weenah mine! and deadly are they as thelightning's bolt that flashes downward from thestorm-sky and lays dead the llama and the ox.

"See yonder eagle, Weenah? Benee's aim is unerring; his hand is the hand of the rock, his eye theeye of the kron-dah" (a kind of hawk), "yet his touchon the trigger light as the moss-flax. Behold!"

He raised the rifle as he spoke, and without evenappearing to take aim he fired.

Next moment the bird of Jove turned a somersault.It was a death-spasm. Down, down he fell earthwards, his breast-feathers following more slowly, likea shower of snow sparkling in the sunshine.

Weenah was almost paralysed with terror, butBenee took her gently in his arms, and, kissing herbrow and bonnie raven hair, soothed her and stilledher alarms.

Hand in hand now through the forest, as in thedays of yore! Both almost too happy to speak, Beneeand his little Indian maiden! Hand in hand overthe plain, through the crimson heath and the heather, heeding nothing, seeing nothing, knowing nothingsave their own great happiness! Hand in hand untilthey stood beside Weenah's mother's cottage; andher parents soon ran out to welcome and to bless them!

Theirs was no ordinary hut, for the father had beenfar to the east and had dwelt among white men onthe banks of the rapid-rolling Madeira.

When he had returned, slaves had come with him-youngmen whom he had bought, for the aboriginesbarter their children for cloth or schnapps. Andthese slaves brought with them tools of the whitemen-axes, saws, adzes, hammers, spades, and shovels.

Then Shooks-gee (swift of foot) had cut himselftimber from the forest, and, aided by his slaves, hadset to work; and lo! in three moons this cottage bythe wood arose, and the queen of the cannibalsherself had none better.

But Benee was welcomed and food set before him, milk of the llama, corn-cakes, and eggs of the heronand treel-ba (a kind of plover).

Then warm drinks of coca (not cocoa) were givenhim, and the child Weenah's eyes were never turnedaway while he ate and drank.

He smoked then, the girl sitting close by him onthe bench and watching the strange, curling rings ofreek rolling upwards towards the black and glitteringrafters.

"But," said Weenah's mother, "poor Benee haswalked far and is much tired. Would not Benee liketo cover his feet?"

"Yes, our mother, Benee would sleep."

"And I will watch and sing," said Weenah.

"Sing the song of the forest," murmured Benee.

Then Weenah sang low beside him while Benee slept.

CHAPTER XV-SHOOKS-GEE'S STORY-A CANNIBAL QUEEN

What is called "natural curiosity" in our country, where almost every man is a Paul Pry, is notrait of the Indian's character. Or if he ever does feelsuch an impulse, it is instantly checked. Curiosity isbut the attribute of a squaw, a savage would tell you, but even squaws will try to prevent such a weed fromflourishing in their hearts.

That was the reason why neither the father nor themother of Benee's little lady-love thought of askinghim a single question concerning his adventures untilhe had eaten a hearty meal and had enjoyed arefreshing sleep.

But when Benee sat up at last and quaffed the matéthat Weenah had made haste to get him, and just asthe day was beginning to merge into the twilight ofsummer, he began to tell his friends and his love someportion of his wonderful adventures, even from theday when he had bidden the child Weenah a tearfulfarewell and betaken himself to a wandering life inthe woods.

His young life's story was indeed a strange one,

 
"Wherein he spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
… of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven.
 

—

The while Weenah

 
"… gave him for his pains a world of sighs.
'T was strange, 't was passing strange,
'T was pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful:
She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man."
 

Then when Benee came down to that portion of hislong story when first he found the children and theirmighty wolf-hound lost in the forest, Weenah and herparents listened with greater interest and intensitythan ever.

There was a fire on the rude, low hearth-a fire ofwood, of peat, and of moss; for at the great elevationat which this cannibal land is situated the nights arechilly.

It was a fire that gave fitful light as well asheat. It fell on the faces of Benee's listeners, andcast shadows grotesque behind them. It beautifiedWeenah's face till Benee thought she looked like oneof the angels that poor Peggy used to tell him about.

Then he related to them all his suspicions of Peter, but did not actually accuse him of bringing about theabduction of Peggy, to serve some vile and unknownpurpose of his own. Next he spoke, yet spoke butlightly, of his long, long march, and the incidents andadventures therewith connected.

There was much, therefore, that Benee had to tell, but there was also much that he had to learn or tobe told; and now that he had finished, it wasShooks-gee's turn to take up the story.

I wish I could do justice to this man's language, which was grandly figurative, or to his dramatic wayof talking, accompanied as it was with look and gesturethat would have elicited applause on any Europeanstage. I cannot do so, therefore shall not try; butthe following is the pith of his story.

This Indian's house was on the very outside andmost northerly end of the great wild plateau whichwas the home of these savages and cannibals.

The queen, a terrible monarch, and bloodthirsty inthe extreme, used to hold her court and lived on astrange mountain or hill, in the very centre of therough tree and bush clad plain.

For many, many a long year she had lived here, andto her court Indians came from afar to do her homage, bringing with them cloth of crimson, wine and oil, which they had stolen or captured in warfare fromthe white men of Madeira valley.

When these presents came, the coca which hercourtiers used to chew all day long, and the maté theydrank, were for a time-for weeks indeed-discardedfor the wine and fire-water of the pale-face.

Fearful were the revels then held on that lonemountain.

The queen was dainty, so too were her fierce courtiers.

When the revels first began she and they could eatthe raw or half-roasted flesh of calves and baby-llamas, but when their potations waxed deeper, and appetitebegan to fail, then the orgies commenced in earnest.Nothing would her majesty eat now-horrible to say-butchildren, and her courtiers, armed to the teeth, would be sent to scour the plains, to visit the mudhuts of her people, and drag therefrom the mostbeautiful and plump boys or girls procurable.

I will not tell of the fearful and awfully unnaturalhuman sacrifice-the murder of the innocents-thatnow took place.

Demons could not have been more revolting in theircruelties than were those savage courtiers as theyobeyed the queen's behests.

Let me drop the curtain over this portion of the tale.Well, this particular cottage or hut, being on theconfines of the country, had not been visited by thequeen's fearsome soldiers. But even had they comethey would have found that Weenah was far away inthe woods, for her father Shooks-gee loved her much.But one evening there came up out of the darkpinewood forest, that lay to the north, a great band ofwandering natives.

They were all armed and under the command of oneof her majesty's most bloodthirsty and daring chiefs.

Hand to claw this man had fought pumas andjaguars, and slain them, armed only with his two-edgedknife.

This savage Rob Roy M'Gregor despised both bow-and-arrowand sling. Only at close quarters would hefight with man or beast, and although he bore thescars and slashes of many a fearful encounter, he hadalways come off victorious.

Six feet four inches in height was this war-Indianif an inch, and his dress was a picturesque costume ofskins with the tails attached. A huge mat of hair, his own, with emu's feathers drooping therefrom, washis only head-gear, but round his neck he wore a chainof polished pebbles, with heavy gold rings, in many ofwhich rubies and diamonds sparkled and shone.

But, ghastly to relate, between each pebble andbetween the rings of gold and precious stones, wasthreaded a tanned human ear. More than twenty ofthese were there.

They had been cut from the heads of white menwhom this chief-Kaloomah was his name-hadslain, and the rings had been torn from their deadfingers.

This was the band then that had arrived as the sunwas going down at the hut of Shooks-gee, and thiswas their chief.

The latter demanded food for his men, and Shooks-gee, with his trembling wife-Weenah was hidden-madehaste to obey, and a great fire was lit out of doors, and flesh of the llama hung over it to roast.

But the strangest thing was this. Seated on ahardy little mule was a sad but beautiful girl-whiteshe was, and unmistakably English. Her eyes werevery large and wistful, and she looked at Kaloomahand his band in evident fear and dread, starting andshrinking from the chief whenever he came near heror spoke.

But the daintiest portion of the food was handedto her, and she ate in silence, as one will who eats infear.

The wild band slept in the bush, a special bed ofdry grass being made for the little white queen, asKaloomah called her, and a savage set to watch herwhile she slept.

Next morning, when the wild chief and his bravesstarted onwards, Shooks-gee was obliged to marchalong with them.

Kaloomah had need of him. That was all theexplanation vouchsafed.

But this visit to the queen's home had givenWeenah's father an insight into court life and usagesthat he could not otherwise have possessed.

Kaloomah's band bore along with them huge balesof cloth and large boxes of beads. How they hadbecome possessed of these Shooks-gee never knew, andcould not guess.

The grim and haughty queen, surrounded by herbody-guard of grotesque and hideous warriors withtheir slashed and fearful faces, and the peleles hangingin the lobes of their ears, was seated at the fartherend of a great wall, and on a throne covered with theskins of wild beasts.

All in front the floor was carpeted with crimson, and her majesty sparkled with gold ornaments. Atiara of jewels encircled her brow, and a living snakeof immense size, with gray eyes that never closed, formed a girdle round her waist.

In her hand she held a poisoned spear, and at herfeet crouched a huge jaguar.

She was a tyrant queen, reigning over a peoplewho, though savage, and cannibals to boot, had neverdared to gainsay a word or order she uttered.

Passionate in the extreme, too, she was, and if a slaveor subject dared to disobey, a prick from the poisonedspear was the reward, and he or she was dragged outinto the bush to writhe and die in terrible agony.

Probably a more frightful woman never reignedas queen, even in cannibal lands.

Kaloomah, on his arrival, bent himself down-nay, but threw himself on his knees and face abjectlybefore her, as if he were scarcely worthy to be herfootstool.

But she greeted his arrival with a smile, and badehim arise.

"Many presents have we brought," he said in thefigurative language of the Indian. "Many presentsto the beautiful mother of the sun. Cloth of scarlet,of blue, and of green, cloth of rainbow colours, jewelsand beads, and the fire-water of the pale-faces."

"Produce me the fire-water of the pale-faces," shereturned. "I would drink."

Her voice was husky, hoarse, and horrible.

Kaloomah beckoned to a slave, and in a few minutesa cocoa-nut shell, filled with rum, was held to herlips.

The queen drank, and seemed happier after this.Kaloomah thought he might now venture to broachanother subject.

"We have brought your majesty also a little daughterof the pale-faces!"

Then Peggy-for the reader will have guessed itwas she-was led trembling in before her, and madeto kneel.

But the queen's brows had lowered when she beheldthe child's great beauty. She made her advance, andseizing her by the hand, held her at arm's-length.

"Take her away!" she cried. "I can love hernot. Put her in prison below ground!"

And the beautiful girl was hurried away.

To be put in prison below the ground meant to beburied alive. But Kaloomah had no intention ofobeying the queen on this occasion, and the girlpale-face was conducted to a well-lighted bamboo hut andplaced in charge of a woman slave.

This slave looked a heart-broken creature, butseemed kind and good, and now made haste to spreadthe girl's bed of leaves on a bamboo bench, and toplace before her milk of the llama, with much lusciousfruit and nuts. She needed little pressing to eat, ordrink, or sleep. The poor child had almost ceased towonder, or even to be afraid of anything.

But now comes the last act in Shooks-gee's strangestory.

Two days after the arrival of the warlike bandfrom the far north, Kaloomah had once more presentedhimself before the queen. He came unannouncedthis time, and with him were seven fierce-lookingsoldiers, armed to the teeth with slings and stones, with bows and arrows, and with spears.

The conversation that had ensued was somewhatas follows, being interpreted into our plain andhumdrum English: -

The Queen. "Why advances my general and slaveexcept on his knees, even as come the frogs?"

Kaloomah. "My queen will pardon me. I will notso offend again. Your majesty has reigned long andhappily."

Q. "True, slave."

She seized the poisoned spear as she spoke, andwould have used it freely; but at a word fromKaloomah it was wrenched from her grasp.

K. "Your majesty's reign has ended! The oldqueen must make room for the beautiful daughterof the pale-faces. Yet will your beneficence live inthe person of the new queen, and in our hearts-thehearts of those who have fought for you. For weeach and all shall taste of your roasted flesh!"

Then, turning quickly to the soldiers, "Seize herand drag her forth!" he cried, "and do your dutyspeedily."

I must not be too graphic in my description of thescene that followed. But the ex-queen was led toa darksome hut, and there she was speedily despatched.

That night high revelry was held in the royal campof the cannibals. Many prisoners were killed androasted, and the feast was a fearful and awful one.

But not a chief was there in all that crowd who didnot partake of the flesh of his late queen, while horntrumpets blared and war tom-toms were wildly beaten.

A piece of the fearful flesh was even given to thepale-face girl's attendant, with orders that she mustmake her charge partake thereof.

The girl was spared this terrible ordeal, however.

But long after midnight the revelry and the wildmusic went on, then ceased, and all was still.

The unhappy prisoner lay listening till sleep stoledown on a star-ray and wafted her off to the landof sweet forgetfulness.

—

Next day, amidst wild unearthly clamour and music, she was led from the tent and seated on the throne.Garments of otter skins and crimson cloth werecast on the throne and draped over the beautifulchild. She was encircled with flowers of rarest hue, and emu's feathers were stuck, plume-like, in herbonnie hair.

Meanwhile the trumpets blared more loudly, andthe tom-toms were struck with treble force, then allceased at once, and there was a silence deep as death,as everyone prostrated himself or herself before thenewly-made young queen.

Kaloomah rose at last, and advanced with bendedback and head towards her, and with an intuitivesense of her new-born dignity she touched him gentlyon the shoulder and bade him stand erect.

He did so, and then placed in her hand the sceptreof the dead queen-the poison-tipped spear.

Whatever might happen now, the girl knew thatshe was safe for a time, and her spirits rose inconsequence.

This, then, was the story told by Shooks-gee, thefather of Benee's child-love.

—

Had Dick Temple himself been there he could nolonger have doubted the fidelity of poor Benee.

But there was much to be done, and it would needall the tact and skill of this wily Indian to carryout his plans.

He could trust his father and mother, as he calledWeenah's parents, and he now told them that he hadcome, if possible, to deliver Peggy, or if that wereimpossible, to hand her a letter that should give herboth comfort and hope.

Queen Peggy's apartments on the mountain werecannibalistically regal in their splendour. The principalentrance to her private room was approached by along avenue of bamboo rails, completely lined withskulls and bones, and the door thereof was alsosurrounded by the same kind of horrors.

But every one of her subjects was deferential toher, and appeared awe-struck with her beauty.

And now Benee consulted with his parents as towhat had best be done.

CHAPTER XVI-ON THE BANKS OF A BEAUTIFUL RIVER

They would not allow Benee to harbour for asingle moment the idea of stealing the queenand escaping with her into the forest.

Two thousand armed men were stationed within amile of the camp, so Benee would speedily be killed, and in all likelihood Queen Peggy also.

No; and he must go no farther into the land of thecannibals.

But he, Shooks-gee, undertook to give the queena little note-book, in which a letter was written fromher "brother", stating that all haste was being madeto come to her deliverance. He would receive backthe note-book, and therein would doubtless be writtenpoor Peggy's letter. Meanwhile Benee must wait.

Shooks-gee started on his mission next day.

He was away for a whole week, but it seemed buta few hours to Benee. He had divested himself ofhis arms, and given the cloth and beads to Weenah'smother. Then all the dear old life of his boyhoodseemed to be renewed. Weenah and he wanderedwild and free once more in the forest and over theheath-clad plains; they fished in lake and stream; they ate and drank together under the shade of thepine-tree, and listened to the love-song of the sweetsoo-soo.

It was all like a happy, happy dream. And is notthe love-life of the young always a dream of bliss?Ah! but it is one from which there is ever anawakening.

And with the return of Shooks-gee, Benee's dreamcame to an end.

Peggy had written her long, sad story in the notebook.

Benee knew it was long, but he could not read it.

Then farewells were said.

The child Weenah clung to Benee's neck and wept.She thought she could not let him go, and at last hehad to gently tear himself away and disappear speedilyin the forest.

Just one glance back at Weenah's sad and wistfulface, then the jungle swallowed him up, and he wouldbe seen by Weenah, mayhap, never again.

—

It was not without considerable misgivings thatRoland and Dick Temple made a start for thecountry of the cannibals.

The relief party consisted but of one hundredwhite men all told, with about double that numberof carriers. It was, of course, the first real experienceof these boys on the war-path, and difficulty afterdifficulty presented itself, but was bravely met andovercome.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

Probably the general of an army, be it of whatsize it may, is more to be pitied than even a king.The latter has his courtiers and his parliament toadvise him; the general is princeps, he is chief, andhas only his own skill and judgment to fall back upon.

It had been suggested by Burly Bill that insteadof journeying overland as a first start, and havingto cross the whirling river Purus and many lesserstreams before striking the Madeira some distanceabove the Amazon, they should drop down-stream insteamer-loads, and assemble at the junction of theformer with the latter.

Neither Roland nor Dick thought well of the plan, and herein lay their first mistake. Not only was itweeks before they were able to reach the Madeira, but they had the grief of losing one white man andone Indian with baggage in the crossing of the Purus.

We cannot put old heads on young shoulders; nevertheless the wise youth never fails to profit bythe experience of his elders.

Even when they reached the forest lands on thewest side of the Madeira, another long delay ensued.For here they had to encamp on somewhat damp andunwholesome ground until Burly Bill should descendthe stream to hire canoes or boats suitable for passingthe rapids.

Don Pedro or Peter was now doing his best to makehimself agreeable. He was laughing and singing allday long, but this fact in no way deceived Roland, and as a special precaution he told off several whitemen to act as detectives and to be near him by dayand by night.

If Peter were really the blood-guilty wretch thatRoland, if not Dick, believed him to be, he made onemistake now. He tried his very utmost to makefriends with Brawn, the great Irish wolf-hound, butwas, of course, unsuccessful.

"I sha'n't take bite nor sup from that evil man'shand," Brawn seemed to say to himself. "He looksas if he would poison me. But," he added, "he shallhave my undivided attention at night."

And so this huge hound guarded Peter, never beingten yards away from the man's sleeping-skin till upleapt the sun in the gold and crimson east and shoneon the waters of the beautiful river.

"That dog is getting very fond of you, I think,"said Roland one day to Peter, while Brawn wassnuffing his hand. "You see how well he protects you bynight. He will never lie near to either Dick or me."

Peter replied in words that were hardly audible, but were understood to mean that he was obliged toBrawn for his condescension. But he somewhat marredthe beauty of his reply by adding a swear-word ortwo at the end.

While they waited in camp here for the return ofBill and his crews, they went in for sport of severalsorts.

The fish in this river are somewhatremarkable-remarkable alike for their numbers and for theirappearance-but all are not edible.

"How are we to know, I wonder, which we shouldcook and which we shouldn't?" said Roland to hisfriend, Dick Temple.

"I think," replied Dick, "that we may safely cookany of them, but, as to eating, why, I should only eatthose that are nice in flavour."

"That's right. We'll be guided by that rule."

The boys fished from canoes which they hired orrequisitioned from the Indian natives of the place.Clever these fellows are, and the manner in whichthey watch for and harpoon or even spear a huge"boto" – which looks like a long-snouted porpoise or"sea-pig" – astonished our heroes.

This fish is killed by whites only for its oil, butthe Indians did not hesitate to cut huge fourteen-poundpieces from the back to take home for culinary purposes.

The "piraroocoo" is an immense fellow, and calculatedto give good sport for a long summer day if youdo not know how to handle him.

This "'roocoo", as some of the natives call him, likes to hang around in the back reaches of the river, and is often found ten feet in length.

He has the greatest objection in the world to beingcaught, and to being killed after being dragged onshore. Moreover, he has a neat and very expert wayof lifting a canoe on his back for a few seconds, andletting it down bottom-upwards.

When he does so, you, the sportsman or piscador, find yourself floundering in the water. You probablygulp down about half a gallon of river water, butyou thank your stars you learned to swim when aboy, and strike out for the bank. But five to oneyou have a race to run with an intelligent 'gator. Ifhe is hungry, you may as well think about some shortprayer to say; if he is not very ravenous, you maywin just by a neck.

This last was an experience of Dick's one day; when a 'roocoo capsized his frail canoe and his Indianand he got spilt.

Luckily Roland was on the beach, and just as ahuge 'gator came ploughing up behind poor Dick, with head and awful jaws above water, Roland tooksteady aim and fired. Then the creature turned onhis back, and the river was dyed with blood.

The natives salt the 'roocoo and eat it. ButRoland's Indian carriers managed to get through asmany as could be caught, without any salt worthspeaking about.

Surely the fish in this beautiful river must havethought it strange, that so many of their numberwere constantly disappearing heavenwards at the endof a line. But it did not trouble them very much afterall, and they learnt no lesson from what they saw, buttook the bait as readily as ever.

There were very many other species of fish, whichnot only gave good sport but made a most deliciousaddendum to the larder.

Boats and canoes were now in the river all daylong, and with the fish caught, and the turtle whichwere found in great abundance, not to mention thewild animals killed in the woods, Roland managed tofeed his little army well.

There is one fish in this river which is sometimescalled "diabolo". He is no relation at all, however,to the real octopus or devil-fish, for this creature isflat. It seems a species of ray, and has an immensemouthful of the very sharpest of teeth. He is notat all dainty as to what he eats. He can make ameal off fresh-water shell-fish; he can swallow hissmaller brothers of the deep; take a snack from adead 'gator, and is quite at home while discussinga nice tender one-pound steak from a native's leg.

The young 'gator is neither fish, flesh, nor goodred-herring. Yet if you catch one not over a yard long, and he doesn't catch you-for he has a wicked way ofseizing a man by the hand and holding on till hismother comes, – his tail, stewed or fried with a morselof pork, will tide you over a "hungry hillock" verypleasantly indeed.

If we turn to the pleasant reaches of the RiverMadeira, or the quiet back-waters, and, gun onshoulder, creep warily through the bush and scrub,we shall be rewarded with a sight that will wellrepay our caution.

Here of an early morning we shall see water-fowlinnumerable, and of the greatest beauty imaginable.

Hidden from view, one is loth indeed to fire a shotand so disturb Nature's harmony, but prefers, for a timeat all events, to crouch there quietly and watch thestrange antics of the male birds and the meek docilityof the female.

Here are teal, black ducks, strange wild geese, brown ducks, sheldrakes, widgeons, and whatnot.

And yonder on the shore, in all sorts of drollattitudes with their ridiculously long necks and legs, arestorks and herons. I think they like to performtheir toilet close to the calm pellucid water, because itserves the same purpose to them as a bedroom mirrordoes to us.

Young tapirs form a welcome addition to the larder, and the woods all round abound in game.

What a paradise! and yet this country is hardlyyet known to us young Britons. We hear of ague.Bah! Regularity of living, and a dust of quinine, and camping in the open, can keep fever of all sortsat bay.

Some may be surprised that our heroes should havesettled down, as it were, so enthusiastically to fishingand sporting, although uncertain all the while as tothe fate of poor kidnapped Peggy.

True, but we must remember that activity andconstant employment are the only cure for grief.So long, then, as Roland and Dick were busy withgun or fishing-rod, they were free from thoughtand care.

But after sunset, when the long dark night closedover the camp; when the fire-flies danced from bushto bush, and all was still save the wind that sighedamong the trees, or the voices of night-birds andprowling beasts, and the rush of the river fell on theear in drowsy, dreamy monotone, then the boys felttheir anxiety acutely enough, but bravely tried togive each other courage, and their conversation, oft-repeated, was somewhat as follows: -

Roland. "You're a bit gloomy to-night, Dick, I think?"

Dick. "Well, Roll, the night is so pitchy dark, nevera moon, and only a star peeping out now and then.Besides I am thinking of-"

Roland. "Hush! hush! aren't we both alwaysthinking about her? Though I won't hesitate to sayit is wrong not to be hopeful and cheerful."

Dick. "But do you believe-"

Roland. "I believe this, Dick, that if thosekidnapping revengeful Indians had meant murder theywould have slain the dear child in bed and not haveresorted to all that horrible trickery-instigatedwithout doubt by somebody. She has been taken tothe country of the cannibals, but not to be tortured.She is a slave, let us hope, to some Indian princess, and well-guarded too. What we have got to do isto trust in God. I'm no preacher, but that is so.And we've got to do our duty and rescue Peggy."

Dick. "Dead or alive, Roland."

Roland. "Dead or alive, Dick. But Heaven havemercy on the souls of those who harm a hair of herhead!"

—

Dick did his best to trust in Providence, but oftenin the middle watches of the night he would lie in histent thinking, thinking, and unable to sleep; then, after perhaps an uneasy slumber towards morning, awake somewhat wearily to resume the duties ofthe day.

CHAPTER XVII-BILL AND HIS BOATS

Roland, young and inexperienced as he was, proved himself a fairly good general.

He certainly had not forgotten the salt, noranything else that was likely to add to the comfort ofhis people in this very long cruise by river and by land.

They knew not what was before them, nor whattrouble or dangers they might have to encounter, soour young heroes were pretty well prepared to fightor to rough it in every way.

Independent of very large quantities of ammunitionfor rifles and revolvers, Roland had prepared aquantity of war-rockets, for nothing strikes greater terrorinto the breasts of the ordinary savage than thesefire-devils, as they term them.

Roland, Dick, and Bill each had shot-guns, withsheath-knives, and a sort of a portable bill-hook, which many of the men carried also, and foundextremely handy for making a clearance among reeds, rushes, or lighter bush.

We have already seen that they had plenty offishing-tackle.

Oil and pumice-stone were not forgotten, andRoland had a regular inspection of his men every day,to make certain that their rifles and revolvers wereclean.

But this was not all, for, to the best of their ability, both Roland and Dick drilled their men to the useof their arms at short and long distances, and taughtthem to advance and retire in skirmishing order, taking advantage of every morsel of cover which theground might afford.

Plenty of maize and corn-flour were carried, andquite a large supply of tinned provisions, from theplantation and from Burnley Hall. These includedcanned meat, sardines, and salmon.

Extra clothing was duly arranged for, because fromthe plains they would have to ascend quite into theregions of cloud and storm, if not snow.

Medicine, too, but only a very little of this, Rolandthought, would be needed, although, on the other hand,he stowed away lint and bandages in abundance, witha few surgical instruments.

Medical comforts? Yes, and these were not to beconsidered as luxuries, though they took the form ofbrandy and good wine.

Good tea, coffee, cocoa, and coca were, of course, carried, with sugar to sweeten these luxuries.

But a small cask of fire-water-arrack-wasincluded among the stores, and this was meant as atreat for native Indians, if they should happen tomeet any civil and obliging enough to hobnob.

Money would be of no use in the extreme wilds.Salt, and cloth of gaudy colours, to say nothing ofbeads, would be bartered for articles of necessity.

—

Everything was ready for the start, but still therewere no signs of Bill and the boats.

It was the first question Roland asked Dick of amorning, or Dick asked Roland, according to whohappened to be first up:

"Any signs of Bill and the boats?"

"None!"

On the top of a cliff at the bend of the beautifulriver stood a very tall tree, and right on top of thiswas an outlook-an Indian boy, who stayed two hourson watch, and was then relieved.

He could command quite an extensive view downstream, and was frequently hailed during the day andasked about Bill and his boats, but the answer wouldcome somewhat dolefully:

"Plenty boat, sah, but no Beel."

Yes, there were boats of many kinds, and a fewsteamers now and then also, but Roland held nointercourse with any of these. His little army wasencamped on an open clearing well back in the forest.He did not wish to know anyone's business, and hedetermined that his own should not leak out.

But although Roland and Dick had plenty to do, and there was sport enough to be had, still the timebegan to drag wearily on day by day, and both youngfellows were burning for action and movement and "go".

Peter, alias Don Pedro, seemed as anxious asanyone else to get forward.

He was most quiet and affable to everyone, althoughapt to drop into dejected moods at times.

He saw that he was not wholly in bad favour withDick Temple.

One day, when Roland was at the other side of theriver, after smoking in silence for some time by thebanks of the stream, where, in company with Dickand Brawn, he was sitting, a down-steamer hove insight at the bend of the river, and both waved theircaps to those on board, a salute which was cheerfullyreturned.

The vessel was some distance out in the broad river, but presently Dick could see a huge black-board heldover the port-quarter. There was writing in chalk onit, and Dick speedily put his lorgnettes up, and readas follows: -

IF GOING UP RIVER-BEWARE!

KARAPOONA SAVAGES ON WAR-PATH-TREACHERY!

"Forewarned is forearmed!" said Dick.

"What was the legend exposed to view on thetelegraph board?" asked Peter languidly.

"The Karapoona savages on the war-path," replied Dick.

"What! The Karapoonas! A fearful race, andcannibals to boot-"

"You know them then?"

"What, I? I-I-no-no, only what I have heard."

He took three or four whiffs of his cigarette in quicksuccession, as if afraid of its going dead.

But Dick's eye was on him all the time.

He seemed not to care to meet it.

"Bound for Pará, no doubt," he said at last. "I dowish I were on board."

"No doubt, Mr. Peter, and really we seem to betaking you on this expedition somewhat against yourwill?"

"True; and I am a man of the world, and have notfailed to notice that I am in some measure under theban of suspicion.

"Yet, I think you are not unfriendly to me," he added.

"No, Mr. Peter, I am unfriendly to no one."

"Then, might you not use your influence with yourfriend, Mr. St. Clair, to let me catch the first boat backto Pará?"

"I cannot interfere with Mr. Roland St. Clair'sprivate concerns. If he suspects you of anything in theshape of duplicity or treachery and you are innocent, you have really nothing to fear. As to letting you offyour engagement, that is his business. I can only saythat the tenure of your office is not yet complete, andthat you are his head-clerk for still another year."

"True, true, but I came as governor of the estate, and not to accompany a mad-cap expedition like this.Besides, Mr. Temple, I am far from strong. I am aman of peace, too, and have hardly ever fired a revolverin my life.

"But I have another very urgent reason for gettingback to England-"

"No doubt, Mr. Peter!"

This was almost a sneer.

"No doubt-but I interrupt you."

"My other reason may appeal to you in more waysthan one. I am in love, Mr. Temple-"

"You!"

"I am in love, and engaged to be married to one ofthe sweetest girls in Cornwall. If I am detained here, and unable to write, she may think me dead-and-and-well, anything might happen."

"Pah, Mr. Peter! I won't say I don't believe you, but instead of your little romance appealing to me, itsimply disgusts me. I tell you straight, sir, you don'tlook like a man to fall in love with anything exceptgold; but if the young lady is really fond of you, shewill lose neither hope nor heart, even if she does nothear of you or from you for a year or more."

Then, seeing that he seemed to wound this strangeman's feelings:

"Pardon my brusqueness, Mr. Peter," he added morekindly. "I really do not mean to hurt you. Come, cheer up, and if I can help you-I will."

Peter held out his hand.

Dick simply touched it.

He could not get himself even to like the man.

—

The signal-tree was but a few yards distant fromthe spot where they sat.

And now there came a wild, excited hail therefrom.

"Golly foh true, Massa Dick!"

Brawn jumped up, and barked wildly.

His echo came from beyond the stream, and hebarked still more wildly at that.

"Well, boy," shouted Dick, "do you see anything?"

"Plenty moochee see. Beel come. Not very faroff. Beel and de boats!"

This was indeed joyful news for Dick. He happenedto glance at Peter for a moment, however, andcould not help being struck with the change thatseemed to have come over him. He appeared to haveaged suddenly. His face was gray, his lips compressed, his brows lowered and stern.

Dick never forgot that look.

Dick Temple was really good-hearted, and he feltfor this man, and something kept telling him he wasinnocent and wronged.

But he had nothing to fear if innocent. He wouldcertainly be put to inconvenience, but for that, if allwent well, Roland would not fail to recompense himhandsomely, and he-Dick-had a duty to perform tohis friend. So now in the bustle that followed-ifPeter wanted to make a rush for the woods-he might try.

Roland had heard the hail, and his canoe was nowcoming swiftly on towards the bank. Dick ran tomeet him.

When he half-pulled his friend on shore and turnedback with him, behold! Peter was gone.

CHAPTER XVIII-AS IF STRUCK BY A DUM-DUM BULLET

Roland and Dick walked quickly towards the camp.

It was all a scene of bustle and stir indescribable, for good news as well as bad travels apace.

"Bill and the boats are coming!" Englishmen wereshouting.

"Beel and de boats!" chorused the Indians.

But on the approach of "the young captains", as theboys were called, comparative peace was restored.

"Had anyone seen Mr. Peter?" was the first questionput by our heroes to their white officers. "No," from all.

"He had disappeared for a few moments in histent," said an Indian, "then der was no more MassaPeter."

Scouts and armed runners were now speedily gottogether, and Roland gave them orders. They wereto search the bush and forest, making a long detouror outflanking movement, then closing round acentre, as if in battue, to allow not a tree to gounexamined.

This was all that could be done.

So our heroes retraced their steps towards the riverbank, where, lo! they beheld a whole fleet of strangecanoes, big and small, being rowed swiftly towards them.

In the bows of the biggest-a twelve-tonner-stoodBurly Bill himself.

He was blacker with the sun than ever, and wildlywaving the broadest kind of Panama hat ever seen onthe Madeira. But in his left hand he clutched hismeerschaum, and such clouds was he blowing that onemight have mistaken the great canoe for a steam-launch.

He jumped on shore as soon as the prow touchedthe bank-the water here being deep.

Black though Burly Bill was, his smile was sopleasant, and his face so good-natured, that everybodywho looked at him felt at once on excellent terms withhimself and with all created things.

"I suppose I ought to apologize, Mr. Roland, for thedelay-I-"

"And I suppose," interrupted Roland, "you oughtto do nothing of the kind. Dinner is all ready, Bill; come and eat first. Put guards in your boats, andmarch along. Your boys will be fed immediately."

It was a splendid dinner.

Burly Bill, who was more emphatic than choice inEnglish, called it a tiptopper, and all hands in Roland'sspacious tent did ample justice to it.

Roland even spliced the main-brace, as far as Billwas concerned, by opening a bottle of choice port.

The boys themselves merely sipped a little. Whatneed have lads under twenty for vinous stimulants?

Bill's story was a long one, but I shall not repeat it.He had encountered the greatest difficulty imaginablein procuring the sort of boats he needed.

"But," he added, "all's well that end's well, I guess, and we'll start soon now, I suppose, for the rapids ofAntonio."

"Yes," said Roland, "we'll strike camp possiblyto-morrow; but we must do as much loading up aspossible to-night."

"That's the style," said Bill. "We've got to makehaste. Only we've got to think! 'Haste but nothurry', that's my motto.

"But I say," he continued, "I miss two friends-whereis Mr. Peter and where is Brawn?"

"Peter has taken French leave, I fear, and Brawn, where is Brawn, Dick?"

"I really did not miss either till now," answeredDick, "but let us continue to be fair to Mr. Peter- Listen!"

At that moment shouting was heard far down the forest.

The noise came nearer and nearer, and our heroeswaited patiently.

In five minutes' time into the tent bounded the greatwolf-hound, gasping but laughing all down both sides, and with about a foot of pink tongue-more orless-hanging out at one side, over his alabaster teeth.

He quickly licked Roland's ears and Dick's, thenuttered one joyous bark and made straight for Burly Bill.

Yes, Bill was burly, but Brawn fairly rolled himover and nearly smothered him with canine caresses.Then he took a leap back to the boys as much as to say:

"Why don't you rejoice too? Wouff-wouff! Aren'tyou glad that Bill has returned? Wouff! Whatwould life be worth anyhow without Bill?Wouff-wouff-wow!"

But the last wow ended in a low growl, as Peterhimself stood smiling at the opening.

"Why, Mr. Peter, we thought you were lost!" cried Dick.

Mr. Peter walked up to Bill and shook hands.

"Glad indeed to see you back," he said nonchalantly,"and you're not looking a bit paler. Any chance of amorsel to eat?"

"Sit down," cried Dick. "Steward!"

"Yes, sah; to be surely, sah. Dinner foh MassaPeter? One moment, sah."

Mr. Peter was laughing now, but he had seatedhimself on the withered grass as far as possible fromBrawn.

"I must say that three hours in a tree-top gives onethe devil's own appetite," he began. "I had gone totake a stroll in the forest, you know-"

"Yes," said Roland, "we do know."

Mr. Peter looked a little crestfallen, but saidpointedly enough: "If you do know, there is no needfor me to tell you."

"Oh, yes, go on!" cried Dick.

"Well then, I had not gone half a mile, and was justlighting up a cigarette, when Brawn came down onme, and I had barely time to spring into the treebefore he reached the foot of it. There I waited aspatiently as Job would have done-thank you, steward, what a splendid Irish stew! – till by and by-aprecious long by and by-your boys came to look forBrawn, and in finding Brawn they found poor famishingme. Thank you, Bill, I'll be glad of a little wine."

"Looking for Brawn, they found you, eh!" saidRoland. "I should have put it differ-"

But Dick punched Roland's leg, and Roland laughedand said no more.

—

Two days after the arrival of Burly Bill an orderwas given for general embarkation. All under theirseveral officers were inspected on the river bank, andto each group was allotted a station in boat or canoe.

The head men or captains from whom Bill had hiredthe transport were in every instance retained, but alarge number of Roland's own Indians were mostexpert rowers, and therefore to take others would onlyserve to load the vessels uncomfortably, not to saydangerously.

But peons or paddlers to the number of two or fourto each large canoe their several captains insisted onhaving.

The inspection on the bank was a kind of "musterby open list", and Roland was exceedingly pleasedwith the result, for not a man or boy was missing.

It was a delightful day when the expedition was atlast got under way.

Roland and Dick, with Peter, to say nothing ofBrawn, occupied the after-cabin in a canoe of verylight draught, but really a twelve-tonner. The cabinwas, of course, both dining-room and sleeping berth-thelounges being skins of buffaloes and of wild beasts, but all clean and sweet.

The cabin itself was built of bamboo and bambooleaves lined with very light skins, so overlapping asto make the cabin perfectly dry.

Our heroes had arranged about light, and candleswere brought out as soon as daylight began to fade.

Then the canoes were paddled towards the bank orinto some beautiful reach or back-water, and theremade fast for the night with padlock and chain.

Roland and Dick had their own reasons for takingsuch strict precautions.

The first day passed without a single adventureworth relating.

The paddlers or peons, of whom there were sevenon each side of our hero's huge canoe, workedtogether well. They oftentimes sang or chanted a wildindescribable kind of boat-lilt, to which the sound ofthe paddles was an excellent accompaniment, butnow and then the captain would shout: "Choorka-choorka!"which, from the excitement the words caused, evidently meant "Sweep her up!" and then the vesselseemed to fly over the water and dance in the air.

Other canoe captains would take up the cry, and"Choorka-Choorka!" would resound from every side.

A sort of race was on at such times, but the BurnleyHall, as Roland's boat was called, nearly always leftthe others astern.

Dinner was cooked on shore, and nearly everyonelanded at night. Only our heroes stuck to their boat.

There were moon and stars at present, and verypleasant it was to sit, or rather lie, at their open-sidedcabin, and to watch these mirrored in the calm water, while fire-flies danced and flitted from bush to bush.

But there was always the sorrow and the weight ofgrief lying deep down in the hearts of both Rolandand Dick; the ever-abiding anxiety, the one questionthey kept asking themselves constantly, and whichcould not be answered, "Shall we be in time to savepoor Peggy?"

Mr. Peter slept on shore.

Brawn kept him company. Kept untiring watchover him. And two faithful and well-armed Indianslay in the bush at a convenient distance.

In a previous chapter I have mentioned anex-cannibal Bolivian, whom Roland had made up hismind to take with him as a guide in the absence of,or in addition to, faithful Benee.

He was called Charlie by the whites.

Charlie was as true to his master as the needle tothe pole.

On the third evening of the voyage, just as Rolandand Dick, with Bill, were enjoying an after-dinnerlounge in an open glade not far from the river brink, the moon shining so brightly that the smallest of typecould easily have been read by young eyes, hesuddenly appeared in their midst.

"What cheer, Charlie?" said Roland kindly. "Come, squat thee down, and we will give you a tiny toothfulof aguardiente."

"Touchee me he, no, no!" was the reply. "Hecatchee de bref too muchee. Smokee me, notwidstanding," he added.

It was one of Charlie's peculiarities that if he couldonce get hold of a big word or two, he planted them inhis conversation whenever he thought he had afavourable opening.

An ex-cannibal Charlie was, and he came from thegreat western unexplored district of Bolivia.

He confessed that although fond of "de pig ob deforest (tapir), de tail ob de 'gator, and de bighaboo-snake when roast," there was nothing in all the worldso satisfactory as "de fles' ob a small boy. Yum, yum! it was goodee, goodee notwidstanding, and makebof him ear crack and him 'tumack feel wa'm."

Charlie lit up his cigarette, and then commenced toexplain the reason of his visit.

"What you callee dat?" he said, handing Burly Billa few large purple berries of a species of thornylaurel.

"Why," said Bill, "these are the fruit of thelanton-tree, used for poisoning arrow-tips."

"And dis, sah. What you callee he? Mind, mind,no touchee de point! He poison, notwidstanding."

It was a thin bamboo cane tipped with a fine-pointednail.

Bill waited for him to explain.

He condescended to do so at last.

"Long time ago I runee away from de cannibalIndians notwidstanding. I young den, I fat, I sweetin flesh. Sometime my leg look so nice, I like to eatone little piecee ob myse'f. But no. Charlie not onebig fool. But de chief tink he like me. He takeme to him tent one day, den all muchee quickee heslaves run in and take up knife. Ha, ha! I catcheeknife too, notwidstanding. Charlie young and goodeeand plenty mooch blood fly.

"I killee dat chief, and killee bof slaves. Den Irunned away.

"Long time I wander in de bush, but one day Icome to de tents ob de white men. Dey kind to pohCharlie, and gib me work. I lub de white man; allsame, I no lub Massa Peter."

He paused to puff at a fresh cigarette.

"And," he added, "I fine dat poison berry and datleetle poison spear in place where Massa Peter sleep."

"Ho, ho!" said Bill.

Charlie grew a little more excited as he continued: "As shuah as God madee me, de debbil hisself makeedat bad man Peter. He wantee killee poh Brawn.Dat what for, notwidstanding."

Now although there be some human beings-theyare really not worth the name-who hate dogs, everygood-hearted man or woman in the world loves thosenoble animals who are, next to man, the best andbravest that God has created.

But there are degrees in the love people bear fortheir pets. If a faithful dog like Brawn is constantlywith one, he so wins one's affection that death alonecan sever the tie.

Not only Roland, but Dick also, dearly loved Brawn, and the bare idea that he was in danger of his life soangered both that, had Mr. Peter been present whenhonest Charlie the Indian made his communication, one of them would most certainly have gone for himin true Etonian style, and the man would have beenhardly presentable at court for a fortnight after atthe least.

"Dick," said Roland, the red blood mounting to hisbrow, the fire seeming to scintillate from his eyes."Dick, old man, what do you advise?"

"I know what I should like to do," answered Dick, with clenched fist and lowered brows.

"So do I, Dick; but that might only make matters worse.

"But Heaven keep me calm, old man," he continued,"for now I shall send for Peter and have it out withhim. Not at present, you say? But, Dick, I am allon fire. I must, I shall speak to him. Charlie, retire;I would not have Mr. Peter taking revenge on sogood a fellow as you."

At Dick's earnest request Roland waited for half anhour before he sent for Peter.

This gentleman advanced from the camp firehumming an operatic air, and with a cigar in hand.

"Oh, Mr. Peter," said Roland, "I was walking nearyour sleeping place of last night and picked this up."

He held up the little bamboo spear.

"What is it?" said Peter. "An arrow? I supposesome of the Indians dropped it. I never saw it before.It seems of little consequence," he continued, "thoughI dare say it would suffice to pink a rat with."

He laughed lightly as he spoke. "Was this all youwanted me for, Mr. St. Clair?"

He was handling the little spear as he spoke. Next moment:

"Merciful Father!" he suddenly screamed, "I havepricked myself! I am poisoned! I am a dead man!Brandy- Oh, quick- Oh-!"

He said never a word more, but dropped on themoss as if struck by a dum-dum bullet.

And there he lay, writhing in torture, foaming atthe mouth, from which blood issued from a bittentongue.

It was a ghastly and horrible sight. Roland lookedat Dick.

"Dick," he said, "the man knew it was poisoned."

"Better he should die than Brawn."

"Infinitely," said Roland.

CHAPTER XIX-STRUGGLING ONWARDS UP-STREAM

"But," said Roland, "it would be a pity to let evenPeter die, as we may have need of him. Let ussend for Charlie at once. Perhaps he can tell us of anantidote."

The Indian was not far off.

"Fire-water", was his reply to Dick's question, "and dis."

"Dis" was the contents of a tiny bottle, which hespeedily rubbed into the wound in Peter's hand.

The steward, as one of the men was called, quicklybrought a whole bottle of rum, the poisoned man's jawswere forced open, and he was literally drenched withthe hot and fiery spirit.

But spasm after spasm took place after this, andwhile the body was drawn up with cramp, and themuscles knotted and hard, the features were fearfullycontorted.

By Roland's directions chloroform was now pouredon a handkerchief, and after this was breathed by thesufferer for a few minutes the muscles became relaxed, and the face, though still pale as death, became moresightly.

More rum and more rubbing with the antidote, andMr. Peter slept in peace.

About sunrise he awoke, cold and shivering, butsensible.

After a little more stimulant he began to talk.

"Bitten by a snake, have I not been?"

"Mr. Peter," said Roland sternly, "you havenarrowly escaped the death you would have metedout to poor Brawn with your cruel and accursed arrow.

"You may not love the dog. He certainly does notlove you, and dogs are good judges of character. Hetree'd you, and you sought revenge. You doubtlesshave other reasons to hate Brawn, but his life is farmore to us than yours. Now confess you meant to dofor him, and then to make your way down-stream bystealing a canoe."

"I do not, will not confess," cried Peter. "It is alie. I am here against my will. I am kidnapped. Iam a prisoner. The laws of even this country-andsorry I am ever I saw it-will and shall protect me."

Roland was very calm, even to seeming carelessness.

"We are on the war-path at present, my friend," hesaid very quietly. "You are suspected of one of themost horrible crimes that felon ever perpetrated, thatof procuring the abduction of Miss St. Clair andhanding her over to savages."

"As Heaven is above us," cried Peter, "I am guiltlessof that!"

"Hush!" roared Roland, "why take the sacred nameof Heaven within your vile lips. Were you not aboutto die, I would strike you where you stand."

"To die, Mr. Roland? You-you-you surely don't mean-"

Roland placed a whistle to his lips, and its soundbrought six stern men to his side.

"Bind that man's hands behind his back and hanghim to yonder tree," was the order.

In two minutes' time the man was pinioned and thenoose dangling over his head.

As he stood there, arrayed but in shirt and trousers, pale and trembling, with the cold sweat on his brow,it would have been difficult even to imagine a moredistressing and pitiable sight.

His teeth chattered in his head, and he swayedabout as if every moment about to fall.

A man advanced, and was about to place the noosearound his neck when:

"A moment, one little moment!" cried Peter. "Sir-Mr. St. Clair-Idid mean to take your favourite dog's life."

"And Miss St. Clair?"

"I am innocent. If-I am to be lynched-for-that-youhave the blood of a guiltless man on your head."

Dick Temple had seen enough. He advanced nowto Peter's side.

"Your crime deserves lynching," he said, "but I willintercede for you if you promise me sacredly you willnever attempt revenge again. If you do, as sure asfate you shall swing."

"I promise-Oh-I promise!"

Dick retired, and after a few minutes' conversationwith Roland, the wretched man was set free.

Entre nous, reader, Roland had never really meantto lynch the man. But so utterly nerveless andbroken-down was Mr. Peter now, that as soon as hewas released he threw himself on the ground, cryinglike a child.

Even Brawn pitied him, and ran forward andactually licked the hands of the man who would havecruelly done him to death.

So noble is the nature of our friend the dog.

—

The voyage up-stream was now continued. Butthe progress of so many boats and men was necessarilyslow, for all had to be provided for, and this meantspending about every alternate day in shooting, fishing, and collecting fruit and nuts.

The farther up-stream they got, however, the morelightsome and cheerful became the hearts of our heroes.

They began to look upon Peggy as already safe intheir camp.

"I say, you know," said Dick one day, "our passageup is all toil and trouble, but won't it be delightfulcoming back."

"Yes, indeed," said Roland, smiling.

"We sha'n't hurry, shall we?"

"Oh, no! poor Peggy's health must need renovating, and we must let her see all that is to be seen."

"Ye-es, of course! Certainly, Roll, and it will beall just too lovely for anything, all one deliciouslydelicious picnic."

"I hope so."

"Don't look quite so gloomy, Roland, old man. Itell you it is all plain sailing now. We have only tomeet Benee when we get as far as the rendezvous, then strike across country, and off and away to theland of the cannibals and give them fits."

"Oh, I'm not gloomy, you know, Dick, though notquite so hopeful as you! We have many difficultiesto encounter, and there may be a lot of fighting afterwe get there; and, mind you, that game of giving fitsis one that two can play at."

"Choorka! Choorka!" shouted the captain of theleading boat, a swarthy son of the river.

As he spoke, he pointed towards the western bank, and thither as quickly as paddles could send him hisboat was hurried. For they had been well out in thecentre of the river, and had reached a place where thecurrent was strong and swift.

But closer to the bank it was more easy to row.

Nevertheless, two of the canoes ran foul of a snag.One was capsized at once, and the other stuck on top.

The 'gators here were in dozens apparently, andbefore the canoe could be righted two men had beendragged below, the brown stream being tinged withtheir gushing blood.

Both were Indians, but nevertheless their sad deathcast a gloom over the hearts of everyone, which wasnot easily dispelled.

On again once more, still hugging the shore; butafter dinner it was determined to stay where theywere for the night.

They luckily found a fine open back-water, and thisthey entered and were soon snug enough.

They could not be idle, however. Food must becollected, and everything-Roland determined-mustgo on like clock-work, without hurry or bustle.

Soon, therefore, after the canoes were made fast, both Indians and whites were scattered far and nearin the forest, on the rocks and hills, and on the rivers.

I believe that all loved the "boys", as Roland andDick were called by the white men, and so all workedright cheerfully, laughing and singing as they did so.

Ten men besides our heroes and Burly Bill hadremained behind to get the tents up and to preparethe evening meal, for everybody would return ashungry as alligators, and these gentry seem to havea most insatiable appetite.

Just before sunset on this particular evening Rolandand Dick had another interview with Mr. Peter.

"I should be a fool and a fraud, Mr. Peter," said theformer, "were I to mince matters. Besides, it is notmy way. I tell you, then, that during our journeyyou will have yonder little tent to yourself to eat andto sleep in. I tell you, too, that despite your declarationsof innocence I still suspect you, that neverthelessno one will be more happy than Mr. Temple here andmyself if you are found not guilty. But you mustface the music now. You must be guarded, strictlyguarded, and I wish you to know that you are. Iwish to impress upon you also that your sentries havestrict orders to shoot you if you are found makingany insane attempt to escape. In all other respectsyou are a free man, and I should be very sorry indeedto rope or tie you. Now you may go."

"My time will come," said Mr. Peter meaningly.

His face was set and determined.

"Is this a threat?" cried Roland, fingering hisrevolver.

But Peter's dark countenance relaxed at once.

"A threat!" he said. "No, no, Mr. Roland. I aman unarmed man, you are armed, and everyone is onyour side. But I repeat, my time will come to clearmy character; that is all.

"So be it, Mr. Peter."

And the man retired to his tent breathing blackcurses deep though not aloud.

"I've had enough of this," he told himself. "Andescape that young cub's tyranny I must and shall, even should I die in my tracks. Curse them all!"

—

Next day a deal of towing was required, for theriver was running fierce and strong, and swirling inangry eddies and dangerous maelstroms even close tothe bank.

This towing was tiresome work, and although allhands bent to it, half a mile an hour was their highestrecord.

But now they neared the terrible rapids of Antonio, and once more a halt was called for the night, inorder that all might be fresh and strong to negotiatethese torrents.

Next day they set to work.

All the cargo had to be got on shore, and a fewarmed men were left to guard it. Then the emptyboats were towed up.

For three or four miles the river dashed onwardhere over its rocky bed, with a noise like distantthunder, a chafing, boiling, angry stream, which butto look at caused the eyes to swim and the senses toreel.

There are stretches of comparatively calm waterbetween the rapids, and glad indeed were Roland'sbrave fellows to reach these for a breathing-spell.

In the afternoon, before they were half-way throughthese torrents, a halt was called for the night in a littlebay, and the baggage was brought up.

They fell asleep that night with the roar of therapids in their ears, and the dreams of many of themwere far indeed from pleasant.

Morning brought renewal of toil and struggle. But"stout hearts to stey braes" is an excellent oldScottish motto. It was acted on by this gallant expedition, and so in a day or two they found themselves in afresh turmoil of water beneath the splendid waterfallsof Theotonia.

The river was low, and in consequence the cataractwas seen at its best, though not its maddest. Fancy,if you can, paddling to keep your way-not toadvance-face to face with a waterfall a mile at least inbreadth, and probably forty feet in height, dividedinto three by rocky little islands, pouring inwhite-brown sheets sheer down over the rock, and fallingwith a steady roar into the awful cauldrons beneath.It is like a small Niagara, but, with the hills and rocksand stately woods, and the knowledge that one is inan uncivilized land, among wild beasts and wilder men, far more impressive.

Our young heroes were astonished to note themultitudes of fish of various kinds on all sides ofthem. The pools were full.

The larger could be easily speared, but bait of anykind they did not seem to fancy. They were troubledand excited, for up the great stream and through thewild rapids they had made their way in order tospawn in the head-waters of the Madeira and itstributaries. But Nature here had erected a barrier.

Yet wild were their attempts to fling themselvesover. Many succeeded. The fittest would survive.Others missed, or, gaining but the rim of the cataract, were hurled back, many being killed.

Another halt, another night of dreaming of allkinds of wild adventures. The Indians had told thewhites, the evening before, strange legends about thedeep, almost bottomless, pools beneath the falls.

Down there, according to them, devils dwell, andhold high revelry every time the moon is full. Dark?No it is not dark at the bottom, for Indians who havebeen dragged down there and afterwards escaped, have related their adventures, and spoken of thesplendid caverns lit up by crimson fire, whose mouthsopen into the water. Caverns more gorgeous andbeautiful than eyes of men ever alight upon above-ground.Caverns of crystal, of jasper, onyx, and ruby; caverns around whose stalactites demons, in the formof six-legged snakes, writhe and crawl, but arenevertheless possessed of the power to change their shapesin the twinkling of an eye from the horrible andgrotesque to the beautiful.

Prisoners from the upper world are tortured here, whether men, women, or children, and the awful ritesperformed are too fearful-so say the Indians-to beeven hinted at.

The cargo first and the empty canoes next had tobe portaged half a mile on shore and above thelovely linn. This was extremely hard work, but itwas safely accomplished at last.

Roland was not only a born general, but akind-hearted and excellent master. He never lost histemper, nor uttered a bad or impatient word, andthus there was not an Indian there who would nothave died for him and his companion Dick.

Moreover, the officer-Indians found that kind wordswere more effectual than cuts with the bark whipsthey carried, or blows with the hand on naked shoulders.

And so the march and voyage was one of peace andcomfort.

Accidents, however, were by no means rare, forthere were snags and sunken rocks to be guardedagainst, and more than one of the small canoes werestove and sunk, with the loss of precious lives.

—

Roland determined not to overwork his crew. Thismight spoil everything, for many of the swamps in theneighbourhood of which they bivouacked arepestilential in the extreme.

Mosquitoes were found rather a plague at first, butour boys had come prepared.

They carried sheets of fine muslin-the ordinarymosquito-nets are useless-for if a "squeeter" getsone leg through, his body very soon wriggles after, and then he begins to sing a song of thanksgivingbefore piercing the skin of the sleeper with hispoison-laden proboscis. But mosquitoes cannot get throughthe muslin, and have to sing to themselves on theother side.

After a time, however, the muslin was not thoughtabout, for all hands had received their baptism ofblood, and bites were hardly felt.

CHAPTER XX-THE PAGAN PAYNEES WERE THIRSTING FOR BLOOD

A glance at any good map will show the readerthe bearings and flow of this romantic andbeautiful river, the Madeira. It will show him somethingelse-the suggestive names of some of the cataractsor rapids that have to be negotiated by the enterprisingsportsman or traveller in this wild land.

The Misericordia Rapids and the Calderano deInferno speak for themselves. The latter signifiesHell's Cauldron, and the former speaks to us of manya terrible accident that has occurred here-boatsupset, bodies washed away in the torrent, or menseized and dragged below by voracious alligatorsbefore the very eyes of despairing friends.

The Cauldron of Hell is a terrible place, and consistsof a whole series of rapids each more fierce than theother. To attempt to stem currents like these wouldof course be madness. There is nothing for it butportage for a whole mile and more, and it can easilybe guessed that this is slow and toilsome work indeed.Nor was the weather always propitious. Sometimesstorms raged through the woods, with thunder, lightning, and drenching rain; or even on the brightest ofdays, down might sweep a whirlwind, utterly wreckingacres and acres of forest, tearing gigantic trees up bythe roots, twisting them as if they were ropes, ortossing them high in air, and after cutting immense gapsthrough the jungle, retire, as if satisfied with thechaos and devastation worked, to the far-off mountainlands.

Once when, with their rifles in hand, Roland andDick were watching a small flock of tapirs at a pondof water, which formed the centre of a green oasis inthe dark forest, they noticed a balloon-shaped cloudin the south. It got larger and larger as it advancedtowards them, its great twisted tail seeming to trailalong the earth.

Lightning played incessantly around it, and as itgot nearer loud peals of thunder were heard.

This startled the tapirs. They held their heads aloftand snorted with terror, running a little this way andthat, but huddling together at last in a timid crowd.

Down came the awful whirlwind and dashed upon them.

Roland and Dick threw themselves on the ground, face downwards, expecting death every moment.

The din, the dust, the crashing and roaring, wereterrific!

When the storm had passed not a bush or leaf ofthe wood in which our heroes lay had been stirred.But the glade was now a strange sight.

The waters of the pool had been taken up. Thepond was dry. Only half-dead alligators lay there, writhing in agony, but every tapir had been not onlykilled but broken up, and mingled with twisted trees, pieces of rock, and hillocks of sand.

Truly, although Nature in these regions may veryoften be seen in her most beautiful aspects, fearfulindeed is she when in wrath and rage she comesriding in storms and whirlwinds from off the greattable-lands, bent on ravaging the country beneath.

"What a merciful escape!" said Roland, as he satby Dick gazing on the destruction but a few yardsfarther off.

"I could not have believed it," returned Dick."Fancy a whirlwind like that sweeping over our camp,Roland?"

"Yes, Dick, or over our boats on the river; but wemust trust in Providence."

Roland now blew his whistle, and a party of hisown Indians soon appeared, headed by a few white men.

"Boys," said Roland smiling, "my friend and Icame out to shoot young tapir for you. Behold!Dame Nature has saved us the trouble, and flesh isscattered about in all directions."

The Indians soon selected the choicest, and departed, singing their strange, monotonous chant.

Presently Burly Bill himself appeared.

He stood there amazed and astonished for fully halfa minute before he could speak, and when he did itwas to revert to his good old-fashioned Berkshiredialect.

"My eye and Elizabeth Martin!" he exclaimed."What be all that? Well, I never! 'Ad an 'urricane, then?"

"It looks a trifle like it, Bill; but sit you down.Got your meerschaum?"

"I've got him right enough."

And it was not long before he began to blow a kindof hurricane cloud. For when Bill smoked furnacesweren't in it.

"Do you think we have many more rapids to getpast, Bill?"

"A main lot on 'em, Master Roland. But we've gotto do 'em. We haven't got to funk, has we?"

"Oh no, Bill! but don't you think that we mighthave done better to have kept to the land altogether?"

"No," said Bill bluntly, "I do not. We never couldhave got along, lad. Rivers to cross by fords that wemight have had to travel leagues and leagues to find, lakes to bend round, marshes and swamps, wherelurks a worse foe than your respectable and gentlemanly'gators."

"What, snakes?"

"Oh, plenty of them! But I was a-loodin' to fever, what the doctors calls malarial fever, boys.

"No, no," he added, "we'll go on now until we meetpoor Benee, if he is still alive. If anything hashappened to him-"

"Or if he is false," interrupted Dick; "false as Peterwould have us believe-"

"Never mind wot Mr. Bloomin' Peter says! Iswears by Benee, and nothing less than death canprevent his meeting us somewhere about the mouth ofthe Maya-tata River. You can bet your bottom dollaron that, lads."

"Well, that is the rendezvous anyhow."

"Oh," cried Dick, "sha'n't we be all rejoiced to seeBenee once more!"

"God grant," said Roland, "he may bring us goodnews."

"He is a good man and will bring good tidings,"ventured Burly Bill.

Then he went on blowing his cloud, and the boysrelapsed into silence.

Each was thinking his own thoughts. But theystarted up at last.

"I've managed to secure a grand healthy appetite!"cried Roland.

"And so has this pale-faced boy," said Bill, shovinghis great thumb as usual into the bowl of his meerschaum.

So back to camp they started.

Brawn had been on duty not far from Mr. Peter'stent, but he bounded up now with a joyful bark, andrushed forward to meet them.

He displayed as much love and joy as if he had notseen them for a whole month.

For ten days longer the expedition struggled onwards.

The work was hard enough, but it really strengthenedtheir hearts and increased the size of their muscles, till both their calves and biceps were as hard andtough as the stays of a battle-ship.

Some people might think it strange, but it is a factnevertheless, that the stronger they grew the happierand more hopeful were they. We may try to accountfor this physiologically or psychologically as we choose, but the great truth remains.

—

One or two of the men were struck down withague-fever, but Roland made them rest while on shoreand lie down while on board.

Meanwhile he doctored them with soup made fromthe choicest morsels of young tapir, with green freshvegetable mixed therein, and for medicine they hadrum and quinine, or rather, quinine in rum.

The men liked their soup, but they liked theirphysic better.

Between the rapids of Arara and the falls ofMadeira was a beautiful sheet of water, and, beingafraid of snags or submerged rocks, the canoes werekept well out into the stream.

They made great progress here. The day was unusuallyfine. Hot the sun was certainly, but the menwore broad straw sombreros, and, seated in the shadowof their bamboo cabin, our heroes were cool and happyenough.

The luscious acid fruits and fruit-drinks theypartook of contributed largely to their comfort.

Dick started a song, a river song he had learned onhis uncle's plantation, and as Burly Bill's great canoewas not far off, he got a splendid bass.

The scenery on each bank was very beautiful; rocks, and hills covered with great trees, the branches ofwhich near to the stream with their wealth of foliageand climbing flowers, bent low to kiss the placidwaters that went gliding, lapping, and purling onwards.

Who could have believed that aught of danger toour heroes and their people could lurk anywherebeneath these sun-gilt trees?

But even as they sang, fierce eyes were jealouslywatching them from the western bank.

Presently first one arrow, and anon a whole showerof these deadly missiles, whizzed over them.

One struck the cabin roof right above Dick's head, and another tore through the hat of the captain himself.

But rifles were carried loaded, and Roland was ready.

"Lay in your oars, men! Up, guns! Let themhave a volley! Straight at yonder bush! Fire low, lads! See, yonder is a savage!"

Dick took aim at a dark-skinned native who stoodwell out from the wood, and fired. He was close tothe stream and had been about to shoot, but Dick'srifle took away his breath, and with an agonizedscream he threw up his arms and fell headlong intothe water.

Volley after volley rang out now on the still air, and soon it was evident that the woods were cleared.

"Those are the Paynee Indians without a doubt,"said Dick; "the same sable devils that the skipperof that steamer warned us about."

They saw no more of the enemy then, however, andthe afternoon passed in peace.

An hour and a half before sunset they landed atthe mouth of a small but clear river, about ten milesto the north of the Falls of Woe.

Close to the Madeira itself this lovely stream wasthickly banked by forest, but the boats were takenhigher up, and here excellent camping-ground wasfound in a country sparsely wooded.

Far away to the west rose the everlasting hills, andour heroes thought they could perceive snow in thechasms between the rocks.

Roland had not forgotten the adventure with theIndians, so scouts were sent out at once to scour thewoods. They returned shortly before sunset, havingseen no one.

Both Roland and Dick were somewhat uneasy intheir minds, nevertheless, and after dinner, in the wanand uncertain light of a half-moon, a double row ofsentries was posted, and orders were given that theyshould be relieved every two hours, for the night wasclose and sultry, just such a night as causes restlesssomnolence. At such times a sentry may drop tosleep leaning on his gun or against a tree. He mayslumber for an hour and not be aware he has evenclosed an eye.

The boys themselves felt a strange drowsinessstealing away their senses. They would have rolledthemselves up in their rugs and sought repose at once, butthis would have made the night irksomely long.

So they chatted, and even sang, till their usual hour.

When they turned in, instead of dressing in a pyjamasuit, they retained the clothes they had worn all day.

Dick noticed that Roland was doing so, and followedhis example. No reason was given by his friend, butDick could guess it. Guess also what he meant byplacing a rifle close beside him and looking to hisrevolvers before he lay down.

Everyone in camp, except those on duty, was bythis time sound asleep. Lights and fires were out, andthe stillness was almost painful.

Roland would have preferred hearing the windsighing among the forest trees, the murmur of theriver, or even the mournful wailing of the great blueowl.

But never a leaf stirred, and as the moon sanklower and lower towards those strangely rugged andserrated mountains of the west, the boys themselvesjoined the sleepers, and all their care and anxiety wasfor the time being forgotten.

The night waned and waned. The sentries hadbeen changed, and it was now nearly one o'clock.

There was a lake about a mile above the camp, thatis, a mile farther westwards. It was surrounded bytall waving reeds, at least an acre wide all round.

The home par excellence of the dreaded 'gator wasthis dark and sombre sheet of water, for to it almostnightly came the tapirs to quench their thirst andto bathe.

Silently a troop of these wonderful creatures cameup out of the forest to-night, all in a string, with thelargest and oldest a little way in front.

Every now and then these pioneers would pauseto listen. They knew the wiliness of the enemy thatmight be lying in wait for them. So acute in hearingare they said to be that they can distinguish thesound of a snake gliding over withered leaves at adistance of a hundred yards. But their sight alsois a great protection to them. No 'gator can moveamong the reeds without bending them, move he neverso warily. Above all this, the tapir's sense of smellis truly marvellous.

To-night the old tapirs that led the van seemedparticularly suspicious and cautious. Their signal forsilence was a kind of snort or cough, and this wasnow ofttimes repeated.

Suddenly the foremost tapir stamped his foot, andat once the whole drove turned or wheeled and glidedback as silently as they had come, until the shadowsof the great forest swallowed them up.

What had they seen or heard? They had seen tall, dark human figures-one, two, three-a score and over, suddenly raise their heads and shoulders above thereeds, and after standing for a moment so still thatthey seemed part and parcel of the solemn scene, moveout from the jungle and take their way towards theslumbering camp.

Savages all, and on a mission of death.

Nobody's dreams could have been a bit more happythan those of Dick Temple just at this moment.

He was sitting once more on the deck of the greatraft, which was slowly gliding down the sunlitsea-like Amazon. The near bank was tree-clad, and everybranch was garlanded with flowers of rainbow hues.

But Dick looked not on the trees nor the flowers, nor the waving undulating forest itself-looked noton the sun-kissed river. His eyes were fixed on abrightly-beautiful and happy face. It was Peggywho sat beside him, Peggy to whom he was breathingwords of affection and love, Peggy with shy, half-flushed face and slightly averted head.

But suddenly this scene was changed, and he awokewith a start to grasp his rifle. A shrill quaveringyell rang through the camp, and awakened everyecho in the forest.

The Indians-the dreaded Paynee tribe of cannibals-wereon them. That yell was a war-cry. Thesepagan Paynees were thirsting for blood.

CHAPTER XXI-THE FOREST IS SHEETED IN FLAMES

For just a few moments Roland was taken aback.Then, in a steady manly voice that could beheard all over the camp, he gave the order.

"All men down! The Indians are approachingfrom the west. Fire low, lads-between you and thelight.

"Don't waste a shot!" he added.

Three Indians bit the dust at the first volley, andthough the rest struggled on to the attack, it was onlyto be quickly repulsed.

In ten minutes' time all had fled, and the greatforest and woodland was as silent as before.

It was Roland's voice that again broke the stillness.

"Rally round, boys," he shouted, "and let me knowthe worst."

The sacrifice of life, however, was confined to threepoor fellows, one white man and two peons; and noone was wounded.

Nobody thought of going to sleep again on thissad night, and when red clouds were at last seen overthe green-wooded horizon, heralding the approach ofday, a general sense of relief was felt by all in thelittle camp.

Soon after sunrise breakfast was served, and eatenwith avidity by all hands now in camp, for scoutswere out, and Dick and Roland awaited the news theywould bring with some degree of impatience.

The scouting was really a sort of reconnaisancein force, by picked Indians and whites under thecommand of the redoubtable Burly Bill.

Suddenly Brawn raised his head and gave vent toan angry "wouff!" and almost at the same time thesound of distant rifle-firing fell on the ears of thelittle army.

Half an hour after this, Bill and two men steppedout from the bush and advanced.

His brow was bound with a blood-stained handkerchief.

It was a spear wound, but he would not hear of itbeing dressed at present.

"What cheer then, Bill?"

"Not much of that," he answered, throwing himselfdown and lighting that marvellous meerschaum, fromwhich he appeared to get so much consolation.

"Not a vast deal of cheer. Yes, I'll eat after I getsa bit cooler like."

"Ay, we'll have to fight the Dun-skins. Theyswarm in the forest between us and the Madeira, andthey are about as far from bein' angels as any durnednigger could be."

"And what do you advise, Bill?"

"Well," was the reply, "as soon as your boys gettheir nose-bags off, my advice is to set to work withspade and shovel and transform this 'ere camp into afortress.

"Ay, and it is one we won't be able to abandon fordays and days to come," he added.

The men were now speedily told off to duty, and ina very short time had made the camp all butimpregnable, and quite strong enough to give anexcellent account of any number of Dun-skins.

The Paynee Indians are a semi-nomadic tribeof most implacable savages, who roam over hill anddell and upland, hunting or fighting as the case maybe, but who have nevertheless a home in the darkmountain fastnesses of the far interior.

They are cannibals, though once, long, long ago, aband of Jesuits attempted their reclamation.

These brave missionaries numbered in all but onehundred and twenty men, and they went among theterrible natives with, figuratively speaking, theirprayer-books in one hand, their lives in the other.

All went well for a time. They succeeded in winningthe affections of the savages. They erected rudechurches, and even to this day crosses of stone are tobe found in this wild land, half-buried among the rankvegetation.

But there came a day, and a sad one it was, whenthe cannibals were attacked by a wild hill-tribe.These highlanders had heard that, owing to the newreligion, their ancient enemies had degenerated intoold wives and squaws.

A terrible battle ensued, during which the menfrom the uplands found out their mistake, for theywere repulsed with fearful slaughter.

All might have gone well with the Jesuits even yetbut for one contretemps.

At the very moment when the savages returnedwildly exultant from the hills, bearing, horrible torelate, joints of human flesh on their spears, therecame from the east a party of men who had beendown to the banks of the Madeira, and had attackedand looted a small steamer that among other thingshad much fire-water on board.

Oh, that accursed fire-water, how terrible its resultswherever on earth it gains ascendancy!

All the fearful passions of these savages were soonlet loose. The scene was like pandemonium.

The poor Jesuits hid themselves in their little church, barricading the door, and devoting the first part of thenight to prayer and song. But at midnight the awfulhowling of the cannibals coming nearer and nearertold them that they had been missed, and that theirdoom was now sealed.

Only one man escaped to tell the terrible tale.

And these, or rather their descendants, were thevery cannibals that Roland's little army had now todo battle with.

Both he and Dick, however, kept up a good heart.

There was ammunition enough to last for monthsof desultory firing, if necessary, and when the attackwas made at last, after Bill's scouts had been drivenin, the savages learned a lesson they were never likelyto forget.

Brave indeed they were, and over and over againthey charged, spear in hand, almost into the trenches.But only to be thrust back wounded, or to die wherethey stood, beneath a steady revolver fire.

But they retreated almost as quickly as they hadcome, and once more sought the shelter of bush and jungle.

Not for very long, however. They were evidentlydetermined that the little garrison should enjoy no peace.

They had changed their tactics now, and insteadof making wild rushes towards the ramparts, theycommenced to bombard the fort with large stones.

With their slings the Bolivian Indians can aimwith great precision, for they learn the art whenthey are mere infants.

As no one showed above the ramparts, there was inthis case no human target for the missiles, but use wasmade of larger stones, and these kept falling into thetrenches in all directions, so that much mischief wasdone and many men were hurt.

A terrible rifle fire was now opened upon that partof the bush in which the cannibal savages weresupposed to be in force, and from the howling andshrieking that immediately followed, it was evidentthat many bullets were finding their billets.

But soon even these sounds died away, and it wasevident enough that the enemy had retired, no doubtwith the intention of inventing some new form of attack.There was peace now for many hours, and Rolandtook advantage of this to order dinner to be got ready.No men, unless it be the Scotch, can fight well onempty stomachs.

The wounded were attended to and made ascomfortable as possible, and after this there wasapparently very little to do except to wait and watch.

Burly Bill brought out his consolatory meerschaum.But while he puffed away, he was not idle. He wasthinking.

Now thinking was not very much in this honestfellow's line. Action was more his forte. But thepresent occasion demanded thought.

The afternoon was already far spent. Thesentries-lynx-eyed Indians, rifles in hand-were watchingthe bush, and longing for a shot. Roland and Dick, with Bill and big Brawn, were seated in the shade ofa green and spreading tree, and all had been silent forsome considerable time.

"I say, young fellows!" said Bill at last, "this kindof lounging doesn't suit me. What say you to a councilof war?"

"Well, you've been thinking, Bill?"

"Ay, I've been doin' a smart bit o' that. Let usconsult Charlie."

Charlie the ex-cannibal was now brought forwardand seated on the grass.

There was a deal of practical knowledge in thisIndian's head. His had been a very long experienceof savage warfare and wandering in forests and wilds; and he was proud now to be consulted.

"Charlie," said Bill, "what do you think of thesituation?"

"De sit-uation?" was the reply. "Me not likee he.Me tinkee we sitee too much. Byme by, de cannibalhe come much quick. Ah! dere will soon be mucheemuch too much sabage cannibal! Fust de killee youand den de eatee you, and make fine bobbery. Ha! ha!"

"Well, Charlie, I don't think that there is a deal tolaugh at. Howsomever, we've got to do something soon."

"So, so," said Charlie, "notwidstanding."

"Well, I've been thinking that we should maketracks for the other side of the river. You see thesesavage rapscallions have no canoes, and they seem tohave no food. They are not herons or storks, andcan't wade through deep water."

"Foh true, sah. Dey am not stohks and dey amnot herons notwidstanding, but see, sah, ebery manhe am his own canoe! No stohks, but all same onefrog, notwidstanding foh true!"

"And you think they would follow us?"

"All same's one eel-two hundred eel. Dey swimwid spears in mouf, and bow and arrow held high.Ha! ha! good soldier, ebery modder's son!"

"I'll tell you my plan," said Dick Temple. "Justloose off the boats, and make one bold dash forliberty."

"Ha! ha! sah!" cried Charlie. "I takes de libertyto laugh notwidstanding, foh true. You plenty muchall dead men 'fore you get into de big ribber!"

"Well, hang it!" said Dick, "we're not going to stayhere with the pretty prospect before us of being allscuppered and eaten. What say you, Roll?"

"I think," said Roland quietly, "that Charlie there hascome prepared to speak, for his face is just beaming."

"See, sah," cried Charlie, evidently pleased, "youtrust all to Charlie. He makee you free after dark.Down in de fo'est yondah dere am mebbe two, mebbeefree hunder' sabages. Now dey not want to fight tillde dark. Dey will fight all de same when de moonrise, and de rifle not muchee good. No hit in de dark,on'y jes' puff, puff.

"See," he continued, "de wind begin to blow a leetle.De wind get high byme by, den de sun go out, andCharlie he fiah de forest."

"Fire the forest, Charlie?"

"Notwidstanding," said Charlie grimly.

"When," he added, "you see de flame curl up, be allready. Soon de flame he bus' highah and highah, andall by de ribber bank one big blaze."

"Charlie," cried Bill, "you're a brick! Give us ashake of your yellow hand. Hurrah! boys, Charlie'sgoing to do it!"

Never perhaps was sunset waited for with moreimpatience.

The great and unanswerable question was this: Would these savages attack immediately after darknessfell, or would they take some time to deliberate?

But behind the rugged mountains down sank thesun at last, and after a brief twilight the stars shoneout.

Charlie was not going alone. He had asked for theassistance of many Indians, and in a whisper he gavethem their orders.

Our heroes did not interfere in any way, for fearof confusing the good fellow's plans. But they soonnoted that while Charlie himself and two Indians leftin one of the smallest canoes, the others disappearedlike snakes in the grass, creeping northwards over theplain.

And now there was silence, for the wind was hushed; silence everywhere, that deep, indescribable silencewhich nightfall ever brings to a wild and savage land,in which even the beasts are still and listening in forestand dell, not knowing from which direction dangermay spring.

Within the little camp nothing could be done butlie still, every man holding his breath with suspense.Nothing could be done save watch, wait, count theweary minutes, and marvel at their length.

Suddenly, however, the deep silence was broken bya mournful cry that came from riverwards. It wasapparently that of an owl seeking for its mate, but itwas taken up and repeated northwards all over theplain twixt camp and forest, and almost at the sametime tiny tongues of fire sprang up here and there andeverywhere.

Higher and higher they leapt, along the ground theyran, meeting in all directions down the dark riverand across the wild moor by the edge of thewoodland. The undergrowth was dry, the grass waswithered, and in an amazingly short time the wholeforest by the banks of the Madeira was sheeted indevastating flames.

The savages had been massed in the centre of thejungle, and just preparing to issue forth and carrydeath into the camp of our heroes, when suddenlythe crackling of the flames fell on their ears, and theyknew they were caught in a fire-trap, with scarcelyany means of escape.

Charlie had been terribly in earnest, and, hurryingon in his canoe towards the Madeira, he lit the bankall along, and even down the side of the great streamitself.

It was evidently his savage intention to roast thesepoor cannibals alive.

As it was, the only outlet towards salvation thatremained for them was the Madeira's dark brink.

"Now, boys, now!" shouted Roland, when he sawthat the fire had gained entire mastery, and, makingits own wind, was sweeping onwards, licking upeverything in its way.

"Now, lads, on board! Let us get off down streamin all haste. Hurrah!"

CHAPTER XXII-EVENINGS BY THE CAMP FIRE

The moorings were speedily slipped, and by thelight of the blazing forest the peons bent sturdilyto their paddles, and the canoe went dancing downstream.

They had already taken on board the Indians whohad assisted Charlie, and before long his own boathove in sight, and was soon taken in tow by thelargest canoe.

That burning forest formed a scene which nevercould be forgotten. From the south side, where theboats were speedily rushing down the stream on theirway to the Madeira, and from which came the lightwind that was now blowing, the flames leaned over asit were, instead of ascending high in air, and the smokeand sparks took the same direction.

The sparks were as thick as snow-flakes in a snow-storm, and the lurid tongues of fire darted high as thezenith, playing with the clouds of smoke or lickingthem up.

The noise was indescribable, yet above the roaringand the crackling could be heard the shouts of themaddened savages, as they sought exit from the hellaround them.

There was no escape except by the Madeira's bank, and to get even at this they had to dash through theburning bushes.

Alas! Charlie and his assistants had done theirwork all too well, and I fear that one-half of thecannibals were smothered, dragged down by alligators,or found a watery grave.

As the canoes shot past, the heat was terrible, andnext morning at daybreak, when they were far up theriver, towards the falls, Roland and his friend weresurprised to notice that the palm-leaves which coveredthe cabin were brown and scorched.

On the whole the experience they had gained of theferocity and fighting abilities of these Paynee cannibalswas such as they were not likely to forget.

—

During all this period of excitement the suspectPeter had remained perfectly quiescent. Indeed heseemed now quite apathetic, taking very little noticeof anything around him, and eating the food placedbefore him in a way that was almost mechanical.Neither Roland nor Dick had taken much heed ofhim till now. When, however, they observed hisstrange demeanour they took council together anddetermined that the watch over him should be madeextra strict, lest he should spring overboard and bedrowned.

Roland may seem to have been harsh with Mr. Peter.But he only took proper precautions, and more thanonce he assured Dick that if the man's innocence wereproved he would recompense him a hundred-fold.

"But," added Dick meaningly, "if he is really guiltyof the terrible crime we impute to him, he cannot bepunished too severely."

The expedition had that afternoon to land theirstores once more to avoid rapids, and a little beforesunset they encamped near to the edge of a beautifulwood well back from the banks of the Madeira.

The night passed without adventure of any kind, and everyone awoke as fresh and full of life and go asthe larks that climb the sky to meet the morning sun.

Another hard day's paddling and towing and portage, and they found themselves high above the MadeiraFalls in smooth water, and at the entrance to a kindof bay which formed the mouth or confluence of thetwo rivers, called Beni and Madro de Dios. This lastis called the Maya-tata by the Bolivians.

It is a beautiful stream, overhung by hill and forest, and rises fully two hundred miles southward andwest from a thousand little rivulets that drain themarvellous mountains of Karavaya.

The Beni joins this river about ten or twelve milesabove the banks of the Madeira. It lies farther to thesouth and the east, and may be said to rise in theLa Paz district itself, where it is called the Rio dela Paz.

To the north-west of both these big rivers lies thegreat unexplored region, the land of the Bolivian andPeruvian cannibals.

Small need have we to continue to hunt and shootin Africa, wildly interesting though the country is, when such a marvellous tract of tens of thousands ofsquare miles is hidden here, all unvisited as yet by asingle British explorer.

And what splendid possibilities for travel andadventure are here! A land larger than Great Britain,France, and Ireland thrown together, which no oneknows anything about; a land rich in forest and prairie;a land the mineral wealth of which is virtuallyinexhaustible; a land of beauty; a land of lake andstream, of hills and rocks and verdant prairie, and averitable land of flowers!

A land, it is true, where wild beasts lurk and prowl, and where unknown tribes of savages wander hitherand thither and hunt and fight, but all as free as thewind that wantons through their forest trees.

—

The boats were paddled several miles up-streamto a place where the scenery was more open.

At every bend and reach of the river Rolandexpected to find Benee waiting for them. Perhaps hehad built a hut and was living by fishing-rod and gun.

But no Benee was visible and no hut.

Together the two friends, Roland and Dick, accompaniedby Charlie and Brawn, took their way across theplain and through the scrub, towards a lofty, cone-shaped hill that seemed to dominate all the scenery inits immediate neighbourhood.

To the very top of this mountain they climbed, agreed between themselves not to look back until theyhad reached the summit, in order that the wild beautyof this lone lorn land should burst upon them in all itsglory, and at once.

They kept to their resolution, and were amply rewarded.

As far as eye could reach in any direction was avast panorama of mountain, forest, and stream, withmany a beautiful lake glittering silvery in the sunshine.

But no smoke, no indication of inhabitants anywhere.

"It seems to be quite an untenanted country wehave struck," said Dick.

"All the better for us, perhaps, Dick," said Roland,"for farther we cannot proceed until poor Benee comes.He ought to have been here before now. But whatadventures and dangers he may have had to passthrough Heaven and himself only know."

"Charlie," he continued, "in the event of Benee notturning up within the next week or two, rememberthe task of guiding us to the very palace gates of thecannibal king devolves upon you."

"You speakee me too muchee fly-high Englese,"said Charlie. "But Charlie he thinkee he understand.You wantee me takee you to de king's gate. I can do."

"That is enough, Charlie, and we can trust you. Youhave hitherto been very faithful, and what we shoulddo without you I know not."

"Now, Dick, I guess we'll get down a little morespeedily than we came up."

"We'll try, Roland, old man."

All preparations were now made to camp near tothe river, where the canoes were moored.

They did not expect any attack by armed Indians, nevertheless it was deemed well to be on the safe side.

Spades and shovels were accordingly brought intouse, and even before sunset a deep trench andembankment were thrown up around the tents, and atnightfall sentries were posted at each corner.

For a few days the weather was so cold and stormythat there was little comfort in either shooting orfishing. It cleared up after this, however, and at noonthe sun was almost too hot.

They found caves in the rocks by the river-side inwhich were springs bursting and bubbling up throughlimestone rocks, and quartz as white as the drivensnow. The water was exquisitely cool and refreshing.

The days were spent in exploring the country allaround and in shooting, principally for the purpose ofkeeping the larder well supplied.

Luckily the Indians were very easy to please in thematter of food, though their captains liked a littlemore luxury.

But this land was full of game of every sort, andthe river was alive with fish, and so unsophisticatedwere these that they sprang at a hook if it were baitedonly with a morsel of glittering mica picked off a rock.

What with fish and fowl and flesh of small deer, little wild pigs and the young of the tapir, there wouldbe very little fear of starvation should they remainhere for a hundred years.

Far up the Maya-tata canoe excursions were made, and at every bend of this strange river the sceneryseemed more delightfully wild, silent, and beautiful.

"Heigh-ho!" said Dick one day. "I think I shouldnot mind living here for years and years, did I butknow that poor Peggy was safe and well."

"Ah! yes, that is the ever-abiding anxiety, but weare not to lose heart, are we?"

"No," said Dick emphatically. "If the worstshould come to the worst, let us try to look fatefearlessly in the face, as men should."

"Bravo, Dick!"

The evenings closed in at an unconscionablyearly hour, as they always do in these regions, andat times the long forenights were somewhat irksome.

I have not said much about the captains of the greatcanoes. With one exception, these were half-castes, and spoke but little.

The exception was Don Rodrigo, who in his timehad been a great traveller.

He was a man of about fifty, strongly built, but aswiry withal as an Arab of the desert.

Genial was he too, and while yarning or playingcards-the cigarette for ever in his mouth, sometimeseven two-there was always a pleasant smile playingaround his mouth and eyes.

He liked our young heroes, and they trusted him.Indeed, Brawn had taken to the man, and often as hesquatted in the large tent of an evening, playing cardsor dominoes with the boys, big Brawn would lay hishonest head down on Rodrigo's knee with a sigh ofsatisfaction and go off to sleep.

Rodrigo could sing a good Spanish song, and had asweet melodious voice that would have goneexcellently well with a guitar accompaniment; but guitarthere was none.

Versatile and clever, nevertheless, was Rodrigo, andhe had manufactured a kind of musical instrumentcomposed of pieces of glass and hard wood hung ontape bands across a board. While he sang, Rodrigoused to beat a charming accompaniment with littlepith hammers.

Some of his songs were very merry indeed and verydroll, and all hands used to join in the chorus, eventhe white men and Indians outside.

So the boys' days were for the time being somewhatof the nature of a long picnic or holiday.

The story-telling of an evening helped greatly towile the time away.

Neither Dick nor Roland had any yarns to spin, butCharlie had stories of his wild and adventurous life inthe bush, which were listened to with much pleasure.On the other hand, Rodrigo had been everywhereapparently, and done everything, so that he was thechief story-teller.

The man's English was fairly good, with just a littleof the Peruvian labial accent, which really added toits attractiveness, while at times he affected theMexican drawl.

Around the camp-fire I have seldom or never knownwhat may be called systematic yarn-spinning.Everything comes spontaneously, one simple yarn or wildadventure leading up to the other. If now and thena song intervenes, all the better, and all the morelikely is one to spend a pleasant evening either incamp or in galley on board ship.

Don Rodrigo did at times let our heroes havesome tales that made their scalps creep, but theyliked him best when he was giving them simplenarratives of travel, and for this reason: they wanted tolearn all they could about the country in which theynow were.

And Rodrigo knew it well, even from Arauco on thewestern shore to the great marsh-lands of theParaguay or the mountain fastnesses of Albuquerque onthe east.

But the range of Rodrigo's travels was not boundedby Brazil, or the great Pacific Ocean itself. He hadbeen a cow-boy in Mexico; he had bolo'd guanacos onthe Pampas; he had wandered among the Patagonians,or on fleet horses scoured their wondrous plains; he haddwelt in the cities, or call them "towns", if so minded, that border the northern shores of the Straits ofMagellan; he had even visited Tierra del Fuego-theland of fire-and from the black boats of savages hadhelped to spear the silken-coated otters of those wildand stormy seas; and he had sailed for years amongthe glorious sunlit islands of the Southern Pacific.

"As to far Bolivia," he said one evening, while hiseyes followed the rings of pale-blue smoke he emittedas they rose to the tent-roof. "As to far Bolivia, dearboys, well, you've seen a good slice of the wilderregions of it, but it is to La Paz you must someday go, and to the splendid fresh-water ocean calledthe Titicaca.

"Lads, I never measured it, but, roughly guessing,I should say that it is over one hundred miles in length, and in some places fifty wide."

"Wait one moment," said Burly Bill, "this is gettinginteresting, but my meerschaum wants to be loaded."

"Now," he added, a few minutes after, "just fireaway, my friend."

CHAPTER XXIII-A MARVELLOUS LAKE IN A MARVELLOUS LAND-LA PAZ

"Mebbe," said Rodrigo, "if you knew thedown-south Bolivians as well as I do, you would notrespect them a great deal. Fact is, boys, there is littleto respect them for.

"Brave? Well, if you can call slaves brave, thenthey're about as bully's they make 'em.

"I have mentioned the inland sea called LakeTiticaca. Ah, boys, you must see this fresh-waterocean for yourselves! and if ever you get married, why, take my advice and go and spend your honeymoon there.

"Me married, did you say, Mr. Bill? It strikes me, sir, I know a trick worth several of that. Been inlove as often as I've got toes and fingers, and mebbeteeth, but no tying up for life, I'm too old a starlingto be tamed.

"But think, amigo mio, of a lake situated in agrand mountain-land, the level of its waters justthirteen thousand feet above the blue Pacific.

"Surrounded by the wildest scenery you canimagine. The wildest, ay, boys, and the mostromantic.

"You have one beautiful lake or loch in yourBritain-and I have travelled all over that land of thefree, – I mean Loch Ness, and the surroundingmountains and glens are magnificent; but, bless my buttons, boys, you wouldn't have room in Britain for such alake as the mighty Titicaca. It would occupy allyour English Midlands, and you'd have to give thefarmers a free passage to Australia."

"How do you travel on this lake?" said Dick Temple.

"Ah!" continued Rodrigo, "I can answer that; andhere lies another marvel. For at this enormous heightabove the ocean-level, steamboats, ply up and down.No, not built there, but in sections sent from America, and I believe even from England. The labour ofdragging these sections over the mountain-chains mayeasily be guessed.

"The steamers are neither so large nor so fine asyour Clyde boats, but there is a lot of honest comfortin them after all.

"And terrible storms sometimes sweep down fromthe lofty Cordilleras, and then the lake is all a chaosof broken water and waves even houses high. Ifcaught in such storms, ordinary boats are speedilysunk, and lucky are even the steamers if shelter is handy.

"Well, what would this world be, I wonder, if itwere always all sunshine. We should soon get welltired of it, I guess, and want to go somewhereelse-to murky England, for example."

Rodrigo blew volumes of smoke before he continuedhis desultory yarn.

"Do you know, boys, what I saw when in yourBritain, south of the Tweed? I saw men callingthemselves sportsmen chasing poor little hares withharriers, and following unfortunate stags withbuck-hounds. I saw them hunt the fox too, men andwomen in a drove, and I called them in my own mindcowards all. Brutality and cowardice in every face, and there wasn't a farmer in the flock of stag-huntingJockies and Jennies who could muster courage enoughto face a puma or even an old baboon with a supplestick in its hand. Pah!

"But among the hills and forests around this LakeTiticaca is the paradise of the hunter who has a bit ofsand and grit in his substance, and is not afraid towalk a whole mile away from a cow's tail.

"No, there are no dangerous Indians that ever Icame across among the mountains and glens; but asyou never know what may happen, you've got to keepyour cartridges free from damp.

"What kind of game? Well, I was going to saypretty much of all sorts. We haven't got giraffesnor elephants, it is true, nor do we miss them much.

"But there are fish in the lake and beasts on theshore, and rod and gun will get but little holiday, Iassure you, lads, if you elect to travel in thatstrange land.

"I hardly know very much about the fish. Theysay that the lake is bottomless, and that not only is itswarming with fish, wherever there is a bank, butthat terrible animals or beasts have been seen on itsdeep-blue surface; creatures so fearful in aspect thateven their sudden appearance has turned gray thehairs of those who beheld them.

"But I calculate that this is all Indian gammon orsuperstition.

"As for me, I've been always more at home in thewoods and forests, and on the mountain's brow.

"I'm not going to boast, boys, but I've climbed thehighest hills of the Cordilleras, where I have hadno companion save the condor.

"You Europeans call the eagle the bird of Jove.If that is so, I want to ask them where the condorcomes in.

"Why, your golden eagle of Scottish wilds isn'ta circumstance to the condor of the Andes. He is nomore to be compared to this great forest vulture thana spring chicken is to a Christmas turkey.

"But the condor is only one of a thousand wildbirds of prey, or of song, found in the Andean regionsor giant Cordilleras.

"And at lower altitude we find the llamas, theguanacos, and herds of wild vicuñas.

"You may come across the puma and the jaguaralso, and be sorry you've met.

"Then there are goats, foxes, and wild dogs, aswell as the viscacha and the chinchilla, to say nothingof deer.

"But on the great lake itself, apart from all thoughtof fish, you need never go without a jolly good dinnerif the rarest of water-fowl will please you. Ducksand geese galore, and other species too many to name."

"That is a land, and that is a lake," said Dickmusingly, "that I should dearly like to visit. Yes, and to dwell in or on for a time.

"I suppose labour is cheap?" he added enquiringly.

"I guess," returned Rodrigo, "that if you wantedto erect a wooden hut on some high and healthypromontory overlooking the lake-and this would beyour best holt-you would have to learn the use ofaxe and adze and saw, and learn also how to drivea nail or two without doubling it over your thumband hitting the wrong nail on the head."

"Well, anyhow," said Dick, "I shall dream to-nightof your great inland ocean, of your Lake Titicaca, and in my dreams I shall imagine I am already there.I suppose the woods are alive with beautiful birds?"

"Yes," said Rodrigo, "and with splendid moths andbutterflies also; so let these have a place in yourdreams as well. Throw in chattering monkeys too, and beautiful parrots that love to mock every soundthey hear around them. Let there be evergreen treesdraped in garments of climbing flowers, roaringtorrents, wild foaming rivers, that during storms rolldown before them, from the flooded mountains, massive tree trunks, and boulders houses high."

"You are quite poetic!"

"But I am not done yet. People your paradisewith strangely beautiful lizards that creep and crawleverywhere, looking like living flowers, and arrayedin colours that rival the tints of the rainbow.Lizards-ay, and snakes; but bless you, boys, these are veryinnocent, objecting to nothing except to having theirtails trodden on."

"Well, no creature cares for treatment like that,"said Roland. "If you and I go to this land of beauty,Dick, we must make a point of not treading on snakes'tails."

"But, boys, there are fortunes in this land of oursalso. Fortunes to be had for the digging."

"Copper?"

"Yes, and gold as well!"

Rodrigo paused to roll and light another cigarette.I have never seen anyone do so more deftly. Heseemed to take an acute delight in the process. Heheld the snow-white tissue-paper lovingly in hisgrasp, while with his forefinger and thumb he apportionedto it just the right quantity of yellow fragrantVirginia leaf, then twisting it tenderly, gently, heconveyed it to his lips.

Said Dick now, "I have often heard of the wondrouscity of La Paz, and to me it has always seemed a sortof semi-mythical town-a South American Timbuctoo."

"Ah, lad, it is far from being mythical! On thecontrary, it is very real, and so are everything andeverybody in it.

"I could not, however, call it, speaking conscientiously,a gem of a place, though it might be madeso. But you see, boys, there is a deal of Spanish orPortuguese blood in the veins of the real whiteshere-though, mind you, three-fourths of the populationare Indians of almost every Bolivian race. Well, themotto of the dark-eyed whites seems to be Mañana(pronounce Mah-nyah-nah), which signifies'to-morrow', you know. Consequently, with the verybest intentions in the world, they hardly ever finishanything they begin. Some of the streets are decentlypaved, but every now and then you come to a sloughof despond. Many of the houses are almost palatial, but they stand side by side with, and are jostled by, the vile mud-huts of the native population. Theyhave a cathedral and a bazaar, but neither is finished yet.

"Well, La Paz stands at a great altitude abovethe ocean. It is well worthy of a visit. If you gothere, however, there are two things you must notforget to take with you, namely, a bottle ofsmelling-salts and plenty of eau-de-Cologne."

"The place smells-slightly, then, I suppose," ventured Dick.

"Ha! ha! ha!" Rodrigo had a hearty laugh of hisown. "Yes, it smells slightly. So do the people, Imay add.

"The natives of La Paz, although some of themboast of a direct descent from the ancient Incas, areto all intents and purposes slaves.

"Well, boys, when I say 'slaves' I calculate Iknow pretty well what I am talking about. Theold feudal system holds sway in what we call thecivilized portions of Bolivia. Civilization, indeed!Only in the wilds is there true freedom andindependence. The servants on ranches and farms arebought or sold with the land on which they live. So,Mr. Bill, if you purchase a farm in Bolivia, it won'tbe only the cows and cocks and hens you'll have totake, but the servants as well, ay, and the childrenof these.

"Bolivian Indians, who are troubled with familiesthat they consider a trifle too large for their income, have a simple and easy method of meeting the difficulty.They just take what you might call the surpluschildren to some white-man farmer and sell them asthey do their cows."

"Then these children are just brought up as slaves?"

"Yes, their masters treat them fairly well, but theygenerally make good use of the whip. 'Spare therod and spoil the child' is a motto they play up tomost emphatically, and certainly I have never knownthe rod to be spared, nor the child to be spoiledeither.

"Oh! by the way, as long as my hand is in I maytell you about the servants that the gentry-folks ofLa Paz keep. I don't think any European wouldbe plagued with such a dirty squad, for in a householdof, say, ten, there must be ten slaves at the very least,to say nothing of the pongo man.

"This pongo man is in reality the charwoman ofLa Paz. It is he who does all the dirty work, anda disagreeable-looking and painfully dirty blackguardhe is himself. It is not his custom to stay more thana week with any one family. He likes to be alwayson the move.

"He assists the cook; he collects dried llama manurefor firewood, as Paddy might say; he fetches waterfrom the fountain; he brings home the marketing, inthe shape of meat and vegetables; he cleans and scrubseverywhere, receiving few pence for his trouble, butan indefinite number of kicks and cuffs, while his bedat night is on the cold stones behind the hall door.Yet with all his ill-usage, he seems just about ashappy as a New Hollander, and you always find himtrotting around trilling a song.

"Ah, there is nothing like contentment in thisworld, boys!"

"Yes, Mr. Bill, I have seen one or two really prettygirls among the Bolivians, but never lost my heart toany of them, for between you and me, they don'teither brush or comb their hair, and when walkingwith them it is best to keep the weather-gauge. Andthat's a hint worth having, I can assure you."

—

On the very next evening after Don Rodrigo spokehis piece, as he phrased it, about the strange customsand habits of the Bolivians, all were assembled asusual in the biggest tent.

Burly Bill and his meerschaum were getting onremarkably well together, the Don was rolling acigarette, when suddenly Brawn started up as if froma dream, and stood with his ears pricked and his heada little to one side, gazing out into the darkness.

He uttered no warning growl, and made no soundof any sort, but his tail was gently agitated, as ifsomething pleased him.

Then with one impatient "Yap!" he sprang away, and was seen no more for a few minutes.

"What can ail the dog?" said Roland.

"What, indeed?" said Dick.

And now footsteps soft and slow were heardapproaching the tent, and next minute poor Beneehimself staggered in and almost fell at Roland's feet.

The honest hound seemed almost beside himselfwith joy, but he had sense enough to know that hisold favourite, Benee, was exhausted and ill, and, looking up into his young master's face, appeared toplead for his assistance.

Benee's cheeks were hollow, his feet were cut andbleeding, and yet as he lay there he smiled feebly.

"I am happy now," he murmured, and forthwithfell asleep.

Both Roland and Dick trembled. They thoughtthat sleep might be the sleep of death, but Don Rodrigo, after feeling Benee's pulse, assured them that itwas all right, and that the poor fellow only neededrest and food.

In about half an hour the faithful fellow-ah! whocould doubt his fidelity now? – sat painfully up.

Dick went hurrying off and soon returned withsoup and with wine, and having swallowed a little,Benee made signs that he would rest and sleep.

"To-morrow," he said, "to-morrow I speak plenty.To-night no can do."

And so they did all they could to make himcomfortable, and great Brawn lay down by his side towatch him.

CHAPTER XXIV-BENEE'S STORY-THE YOUNG CANNIBAL QUEEN

I cannot help saying that in forbearing to talkto or to question poor Benee on the evening ofhis arrival, our young heroes exhibited a spirit oftrue manliness and courage which was greatly totheir credit.

That they were burning to get news of theunfortunate Peggy goes without saying, and to hear atthe same time Benee's own marvellous adventures.

Nor did they hurry the poor fellow even next day.

It is a good plan to fly from temptation, when youare not sure you may not fall. There is nothingdishonourable about such a course, be the temptationwhat it may.

Roland and Dick adopted the plan this morning atall events. Both were awake long before sunrise; long before the beautiful stars had ceased to glittergem-like high over mountains and forest.

The camp was hardly yet astir, although Burly Billwas looming between the lads and the light as theystood with honest Brawn in the big tent doorway.Over his head rose a huge cloud of fragrant smoke, while ever and anon a gleam from the bowl of hismeerschaum lit up his good-humoured face.

It had not taken the lads long to dress, and nowthey sauntered out.

The first faint light of the dawning day was alreadybeginning to pale the stars. Soon the sun himself, red and rosy, would sail up from his bed behind thefar green forest.

"Bill!"

"Hillo! Good-morning to you both! I've been upfor hours."

"And we could not sleep for-thinking. But I say,Bill, I think Benee has good news. I'm burning tohear it, and so is Dick here, but it would be downrightmean to wake the poor fellow till he is well rested.So, for fear we should seem too inquisitive, or toosquaw-like, we're off with bold Brawn here for awalk. Yes, we are both armed."

When the lads came back in about two hours' time, they found Benee up and dressed and seated on thegrass at breakfast.

When I say he was dressed I allude to the fact thathe very much needed dressing, for his garments werein rags, his blanket in tatters. But he had taken theclothes Bill provided for him, and gone straight to theriver for a wash and a swim.

He looked quite the old Benee on his return.

"Ah!" said Bill, "you're smiling, Benee. I knowyou have good news."

"Plenty good, Massa Bill, one leetle bitee bad!"

"Well, eat, old man; I'm hungry. Yes, the boys arebeautiful, and they'll be here in a few minutes."

And so they were.

Brawn was before them. He darted in with a rushand a run, and licked first Benee's ears and then Bill's.It was a rough but a very kindly salute.

In these sky-high regions of Bolivia, a walk or runacross the plains early in the morning makes onealmost painfully hungry.

But here was a breakfast fit for a king; eggs ofwild birds, fish, and flesh of deer, with cakes galore, for the Indians were splendid cooks.

Then, after breakfast, Benee told the boys and Billall his long and strange story. It was a thrilling one,as we know already, and lost none of its effect bybeing related in Benee's simple, but often graphic andfigurative language.

"Oh!" cried impulsive Dick, when he had finished, and there were tears in the lad's eyes that he tooksmall pains to hide, "you have made Roland and mehappy, inexpressibly happy, Benee. We know nowthat dear Peggy is well, and that nothing can harmher for the present, and something tells me we shallreceive her safe and sound."

Benee's face got slightly clouded.

"Will it not be so, Benee?"

"The Christian God will help us, Massa Dick. Deris mooch-plenty mooch-to be done!"

"And we're the lads to do it," almost shouted Burly Bill.

"Wowff! Wowff!" barked Brawn in the most emphatic manner.

In another hour all were once more on the marchtowards the land of the cannibals.

—

Life at the court of Queen Leeboo, as her peoplecalled poor Peggy, was not all roses, but well the girlknew that if she was to harbour any hopes of escapeshe must keep cool and play her game well.

She had all a woman's wits about her, however, andall a woman's wiles. Vain Peggy certainly was not, but she knew she was beautiful, and determined tomake the best use of the fact.

Luckily for her she could speak the language ofthis strange wild people as well as anyone, for Charliehimself had been her teacher.

A strangely musical and labial tongue it is, andfigurative, too, as might be expected, for the sceneryof every country has a certain effect upon its language.

It was soon evident that Queen Leeboo was expectedto stay in the royal camp almost entirely.

This she determined should not be the case. Soafter the royal breakfast one morning-and a verydelightful and natural meal it was, consisting chieflyof nuts and fruit-Queen Leeboo seized her sceptre, the poisoned spear, and stepped lightly down from herthrone.

"That isn't good enough," she said, "I want a littlefresh air."

Her attendants threw themselves on their facesbefore her, but she made them get up, and very muchastonished they were to see the beautiful queen marchalong the great hall and step out on to theskull-decorated verandah.

The palace was built on a mountain ledge or table-landof small dimensions. It was backed by giganticand precipitous rocks, now most beautifully drapedwith the greenery of bush and fern, and trailed overby a thousand charming wild flowers.

Leeboo, as we may call her for the present, seatedherself languidly on a dais. She knew better than tobe rash. Her object was to gain the entire confidenceof her people. In this alone lay her hopes of escape, and thoughts of freedom were ever uppermost in her mind.

This was the first time she had been beyond theportals of her royal prison-house, but she determinedit should not be the last.

While her attendants partially encircled her shegazed dreamily at the glorious scenery beyond andbeneath her.

From her elevated position she could view thelandscape for leagues and leagues on every side. Few ofus, in this tame domestic land that we all love so well, have ever visited so beautiful a country as thesehighlands of Bolivia.

Fresh from the hands of its Maker did it seem onthis fresh, cool, delightful morning. The dark greenof its rolling woods and forests, the heath-clad hills, the streams that meandered through the dales likethreads of silver, the glittering lakes, the plains wherethe llamas, and even oxen, roamed in great herds, andfar, far away on the horizon the serrated mountains, patched and flecked with snow, that hid their summitsin the fleecy clouds; the whole formed as grand andlovely a panorama as ever human eyes beheld.

But it was marred somewhat by the immediatesurroundings of poor Leeboo.

Oh, those awful skulls! "Is everything good andbeautiful in Nature," she could not help askingherself, "except mankind?"

Here was the faint odour of death, and she beheldon many of these skulls the mark of the axe, reminding her of murder. She shuddered. Her palacewas but a charnel-house. Those crouching creaturesaround her, waiting to do her bidding or obey herslightest behest, were but slaves of tyrant masters, and every day she missed one of the youngest andfairest, and knew what her doom would be.

And out beyond the gate yonder were her soldiers, her guards. Alas, yes! and they were her keepers also.

But behold! yonder comes the great chief Kaloomah, her prime minister, and walking beside him is Kalamazoo.

Kaloomah walks erect and stately, as becomes sohigh a functionary. He is stern in face even togrimness and ferocity, but as handsome in form as some ofthe heroes of Walter Scott.

And Kalamazoo is little more than a boy, and one, too, of somewhat fragile form, with face more delicatethan is becoming in a cannibal Indian.

Kalamazoo is the only son of the late queen. Forsome reason or other he wears a necklace of hismother's red-stained teeth. Probably they are a charm.

Both princes kneel at Leeboo's feet. Leeboo strikesboth smartly on the shoulders with her sceptre andbids them stand up.

"I would not have you grovel round me," she saysin their own tongue, "like two little pigs of theforest." They stand up, looking sheepish and nonplussed, andLeeboo, placing one on each side of her-a spear-lengthdistant, – looks first at Kaloomah and then at Kalamazooand bursts into a silvery laugh.

Why laughs Queen Leeboo? These two men areboth very natural, both somewhat solemn. Not evenlittle pigs of the forest like to be laughed at.

But the queen's mistress of the robes-let me callher so-has told her that she is expected to take untoherself a husband in three moons, and that it must beeither Kaloomah or Kalamazoo.

This is now no state secret. All the queen's peopleknow, from her own palace gates to the remotest mudhut on this cannibalistic territory. They all know it, and they look forward to that week of festivity aschildren in the rural districts of England look forwardto a fair.

There will be a monster carousal that day.

The soldiers of the queen will make a raid on aneighbouring hill tribe, and bring back many headsand many hams.

If Kaloomah is the favourite, then Kalamazoo willbe slain and cooked.

If the queen elects to smile on Kalamazoo with hisnecklace of the maternal molars and incisors, thenKaloomah with the best grace he can must submit tothe knife.

Yet must I do justice to both and say that it is notbecause they fear death that they are so anxious tocurry favour with the young and lovely queen. Ohno! for both are over head in love with her.

And a happy thought has occurred to Leeboo. Shewill play one against the other, and thus, in some wayto herself at present unknown, endeavour to effect herescape from this land of murder, blood, and beautifulscenery.

So there they stand silently, a spear-length from herdais, she glorying in the power she knows she hasover both. There they stand in silence, for courtetiquette forbids them to speak until spoken to.

Very like a couple of champion idiots they are too.Big Kaloomah doesn't quite know what to do with hishands, and Kalamazoo is fidgeting nervously with hisnecklace, and apparently counting his dead mother'steeth as monks count their beads.

Leeboo rises at last, and, gathering the loose portionof her skirts around her, says: "Come, I would walk."

She is a little way ahead, and she waves her spearso prettily as she smiles her sweetest and points to thegrimly ornamental gate.

And after hesitating for one moment, both Kaloomahand the young prince follow sheepishly.

The guards by the gate, grim, fully armed cut-throats, seeing that her majesty expects obedience, fall back, and the trio march through.

But I do not think that either of Leeboo's loversis prepared for what follows.

If they had calculated on a solemn majestic walkaround the plateau, they were soon very much undeceived.

Leeboo had no sooner begun to breathe the gloriousmountain air, than she felt as exuberant as a childagain. Indeed, she was but little else. But she placedher spear and sceptre of royalty very unceremoniouslyinto Kaloomah's hand to hold, while she darted offafter a splendid crimson specimen of dragon-fly.

Kaloomah looked at Kalamazoo. Kalamazoo lookedat Kaloomah.

The one didn't love the other, it is true, yet afellow-feeling made them wondrous kind. And the feelinguppermost in the mind of each was wonder.

Kaloomah beckoned to Kalamazoo, and pointed tothe queen. The words he spoke were somewhat asfollows:

"Too much choorka-choorka! Suppose the queenwe lose-"

He pointed with his thumb to his neck by way ofcompleting the sentence.

"Too much choorka-choorka!" repeated the youngprince. "You old-you stop her."

"No, no, you young-you run quick, you stop her!"

That dragon-fly gave Leeboo grand sport for overhalf an hour. From bush to bush it flitted, and flewfrom flower to flower, over rocks, over cairns, andfinally down the great hill that led to the plain below.

Matters looked serious, so both lovers were now induty bound to follow their all-too-lively queen.

When they reached the bottom of the brae, however, behold! – but stay, there was no behold about it.Queen Leeboo was nowhere to be seen!

CHAPTER XXV-BENEE'S MOTHER TO THE FRONT

Here was a difficulty!

If they returned without the queen, theywould be torn in pieces and quietly eaten afterwards.

They became excited. They looked here, there, andeverywhere for Leeboo. Up into the trees, under thebushes, behind rocks and stones, but all in vain. Thebeautiful girl seemed to have been spirited away, orthe earth had opened and admitted her into fairy-land, or-

But see! To their great joy, yonder comes theyoung queen holding aloft the dragon-fly and singingto herself.

Not a whit worse was the lovely thing; not one ofits four gauzy wings was so much as rumpled.

Then she whispered something to it, and tossed ithigh in air.

And away it flew, straight to the north-east, asif bent upon delivering the message she had entrustedto its keeping.

She stood gazing after it with flushed cheeks andparted lips until it was no longer visible against thesky's pale blue, then turned away with a sigh.

But Leeboo was not tired yet. There were beautifulbirds to be seen and their songs listened to. Andthere were garlands of wild flowers to be strung.

One she threw over Kaloomah's neck.

Kalamazoo looked wretched.

She made him even a larger, and he was happy.This garland quite hid his mother's frightful teeth.

But it must be said that these two lovers of Leeboo'slooked-with those garlands of flowers around theirnecks-more foolish than ever.

She trotted them round for two whole hours. Thenshe resumed her sceptre, and intimated her intentionto return to the palace.

For a whole week these rambles were continuedday after day.

Then storm-winds blew wild from off the snow-patchedmountains, and Leeboo was confined to herpalace for days.

Her maids of honour, however, did all they couldto please and comfort her. They brought her thechoicest of fruits, and they told her strange weirdtales of strange weird people and mannikins who inthese regions dwell deep down in caves below theground, and often steal little children to nurse theirtiny infants.

And they sang or chanted to her also, and all nightlong in the drapery-hung chamber, where she reposedon a couch of skins, they lay near her, ready to startto their feet and obey her slightest command.

Leeboo ruled her empire by love. But she couldbe haughty and stern when she pleased, only shenever made use of that terrible spear, one touch ofwhich meant death.

—

In less than six-weeks' time Queen Leeboo had sothoroughly gained the confidence of her people thatshe was trusted to go anywhere, although alwaysunder the eyes of the young prince or Kaloomah.

I believe Leeboo would have learned to like thesavages but for their cannibal tastes, and several times, when men returned from the war-path, she had towitness the most terrible of orgies.

It was always young girls or boys who were thevictims of those fearful feasts. Her heart bled forthem, but all remonstrance on her part was in vain.

Leeboo had got her pony back, and often had aglorious gallop over the prairie.

But something else had happened, which addedgreatly to Leeboo's comfort and happiness. Shooks-geehimself came to camp and brought with him littleWeenah, his beautiful child-daughter.

Leeboo took to her at once, and the two becameconstant companions.

Weenah could converse in broken English, and somany a long delightful "confab" they had together.

Child-like, Weenah told Leeboo of her love forBenee, of their early rambles in the forest, too, and ofher own wild wanderings in search of him. Told her, too, that Benee was coming back again with a fresharmy of Indians and white men, with Leeboo's ownlover and her brother as their captains; told her of thefearful fight that was bound to take place, but whichwould end in the complete triumph of the good menand the rescue of Leeboo herself.

Yes, Weenah had her prophecy all cut and dry, andher story ended with a good "curtain", as all goodstories should.

Whether Weenah's prophecy would be fulfilled ornot we have to read on to see, for, alas! it was a darkand gloomy race of savages that would have to be dealtwith, and rather than lose their queen, Kaloomah andhis people would-but there! I have no wish topaint my chapters red.

—

Leeboo was not slow to perceive that her chiefchance of escape lay in the skill with which she mightplay her two lovers against each other.

Whoever married her would be king. He wouldrank with, but after, the queen herself, for, to thecredit of these cannibals be it said, they always preferfemale government.

In civilized society Leeboo might have been accusedof acting mischievously; for she would take first oneinto favour and then the other, giving, that is, eachof them a taste of the seventh heaven time about.When Kalamazoo's star was in the ascendant, thenKaloomah was deep down in a pit of despair; butanon, he would be up and out again, and then it wasKalamazoo's turn to weep and wail and gnash histriangular red-stained teeth.

It is needless to say that the game she was playingwas a sad strain upon our poor young heroine. Nowonder her eyes grew bright with that brightnesswhich denotes loss of strength, and weariness, and thather cheeks were often far too flushed.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, and but forlittle Weenah I think that Leeboo would have givenup heart altogether and lain down to die.

But Weenah was always bright, cheerful, andhappy. She was laughing all day long. Benee wascoming for her; of that she was very certain andsure, so she sang about her absent lover even asbirds in the woodlands sing, and with just as sweeta voice.

The plot was thickening and thickening, and Leeboomanaged matters now so that only one of herguardians at a time accompanied herself and Weenah intheir rides or rambles.

Dixie-as the pony was named-was a very faithfullittle horse, and though when Weenah had to trotbeside him he never was allowed to go the pace, hewas exceedingly strong, and could scour the plainor prairie as fleet as the wind whenever his youngmistress put him on his mettle. On such occasions,no matter which of Leeboo's admirers was with her,he dropped far astern, and after running for a mileor so, had to sit down to pant.

But the young queen always returned, and so shewas trusted implicitly.

So too was Weenah, but then Weenah was one ofthemselves.

—

In their very long and toilsome march, up the Mayatata, well was it indeed for Roland and Dick that theyhad guides so faithful and clever as Benee and Charlie.But for them, indeed, the expedition would have beenforedoomed to failure.

Benee indeed was really the guiding star. For inhis own lonesome wanderings he had surveyed thewhole country as it were, and knew every fittingplace for a camp, every ford on every stream, andevery pathway through the dense and dark forests.

They were but the pathways made by the beasts, however, and often all but impassable. Still, in singlefile they marched, and were always successful inmaking their way. Two whole months passed away, and now, as they were nearing the cannibal highlands, greater precautions than ever were required.

And for a week they had to turn night into day, and travel while the savages slept.

They kept away, too, from any portion of thecountry which seemed to have the slightest claim tobe called inhabited. Better they should herd withthe wild beasts of the forest than sight the face ofeven a single savage. For swift as deer that savagewould run towards the cannibal head-quarters andgive information of the approach of a pale-face hordeof enemies.

At last there came a day when Benee called acouncil of war.

"We now get near de bad man's land," he said."Ugh! I not lub mooch blood."

"Then what would you have us do?" said Roland."Shall we advance boldly or make a night attack?"

"No, no, no, sah. Too many cannibal warrior, toomuch pizen arrow, sling, and spear. No; build herea camp. Make he strong. Benee will go all same.Benee will creep and crawl till he come to father andmother house. Den Benee make all right. Pray forBenee."

Benee left, poor Brawn bidding him a mostaffectionate farewell. Surely that honest dog knew hewas bent on saving his little mistress, if only hecould.

Charlie, the ex-cannibal, stayed in camp for thetime being, but he might be useful as a spy afterwards.

It is needless to say that the prayers of both ourheroes were offered up night and day for Benee'ssuccess, and that their blessings followed him.

But we do not always receive the answers thatwould appear to us the best to our prayers, howeverearnest and heartfelt they may be. Still, we knowwell, though we are generally very loth to admit it, that afflictions are very often blessings in disguise.

And now Benee was once more all alone on thewar-path, and he followed his old tactics, creepingquietly through the jungle only by night, and retiringinto hiding whenever day began to obliterate the stars.Roland gave orders for the camp to be immediatelyfortified. It was certainly a well-chosen one, on thetop of a wooded hill.

This hill was scarcely a hundred feet high, butalthough it might be taken by siege, its positionrendered it almost impregnable as far as assault wasconcerned.

A rampart with a trench was thrown round threesides of it. That was apparently all that would beneeded.

Looking from below by daylight even, hardly asavage could have told that an enemy held the hill.

And now there was nothing to do but to wait. Andwaiting is always wearisome work.

But let us follow Benee.

His progress was slow, but it was sure, and at lasthe reached the cottage where good Shooks-gee andhis wife resided.

But here was no one save his "mother", as Beneelovingly called her.

A great fear took possession of his mind. Could itbe that his father himself was dead, and that Weenahwas captive?

His lips and voice almost refused to formulate thequestion nearest to his heart.

But his mother's smile reassured him. Weenahwas safe, and at the court of the queen, and Shooks-geehimself was there. So Benee grew hopeful once more.

But his task would be by no means an easy one.

First and foremost he must establish communicationbetween the captive girl and himself. How couldthis be done?

Had Shooks-gee been at home it might have beenmanaged simply enough. But he himself dared notappear anywhere in sight of the savages.

He felt almost baffled, but at last his mother cameto his rescue.

The risk would be extreme. These cannibal savagesare as suspicious of strangers as they are fierce andbloodthirsty, and if this poor, kindly-hearted womanwas taken for a spy her doom would be sealed.

But see the young queen she must, or little Weenah, her daughter; for great though Benee's abilities were,he did not possess the accomplishment of writing.

—

Dressed as one of the lowest of peasants, the motherof Weenah set boldly out on her forlorn hope the verynext day, and in the afternoon she was within onemile of the palace itself.

Here she hid herself in the jungle, and after eatinga little fruit went to sleep.

The stars were still shining when she awoke, butshe knew them all, and those that were setting toldher that day would soon break.

To pass through the soldier-guards and enter thepalace would, she knew, be an utter impossibility.There was nothing for it but to wait with patience, for her husband had told her that the queen rode outfor a scamper over the plains every forenoon.

He had even told her the direction she usuallytook, not riding fast, but with Weenah running byher side, keeping a long way ahead of her loverguardian, whichever one of them might happen forthe time being to be the happy man.

Benee's mother was as courageous as a mountaincat. She had a duty to perform, and she meant tocarry it out.

Well, we are told in some old classic that fortunefavours the brave.

It does not always do so, but in this case, at allevents, this good woman was successful.

At a certain part of the plain there were bushesclose and thick enough, and just here Leeboo withher little charger must pass if she came out to-day at all.

It was at this spot, then, that Weenah's motherconcealed herself.

Nor had she very long to wait, for soon thesound of the pony's hoofs fell on her ear, beating apleasant accompaniment to two sweet voices raised insong.

The Indian woman raised herself and peeped overthe bushes.

Yes, they were coming, and alone too, for Kaloomahcould not run so fast as Kalamazoo, and was a longway behind.

With characteristic impulse Weenah rushed forwardand was clasped for a moment in her mother's arms.

And, somewhat astonished, Leeboo immediately reined up.

CHAPTER XXVI-THE PALE-FACE QUEEN HAS FLED

Leeboo, the young queen, could see that thewoman was flurried and excited.

She stood with her face to the pony and one armwas held aloft in the air. Her eyes were gleaming, and her hat had fallen over her back, allowing herwealth of coal-black hair to escape.

Weenah stood by the saddle.

"I have that to say," exclaimed her mother, in herstrangely musical language, "that must be said speedily.If I am seen we are all doomed. But listen, and listenintently. You are free if you are fortunate. Libertyis at hand. Your friends are twenty miles downstream in camp. Down the stream of Bitter Waters.Ride this way to-morrow, and when far enoughaway take Weenah in your saddle, and gallop foryour life into the forest. Weenah will be your guide."

So quickly did the woman vanish that for a fewmoments our heroine half believed she must have beendreaming.

But she pulled herself together at once, and nowrode back to meet Kaloomah.

She was all smiles too.

"Why waits poor Kaloomah here?" she said, in hersoftest sweetest tones.

Kaloomah placed his hand on the saddle pommel, and panted somewhat. But Kaloomah was in theseventh heaven.

"Say-say-say 'poor Kaloomah' again," he muttered.

"Poor Kaloomah! Poor dear Kaloomah!"

She could even afford to place emphasis on the"dear", she was so happy.

"Oh-ugh!" sighed the savage; "but to-morrow itmay be 'poor dear Kalamazoo!'"

"Ah, you are jealous! A little forest bird ispecking, pecking at your heart. But listen; to-morrow itshall not be Kalamazoo, but Kaloomah once again."

Well, I dare say that love-making is very much thesame all over the wide, wide world, and so we cannoteven laugh at this cannibal if he did bend rapturouslydown and kiss the toe of Leeboo's sandal-shapedstirrup.

"And now, Kaloomah," she added, "I would gathersome wild flowers, and listen for a little while to thesoo-soo's song while you twine my wild flowers intoa garland. My little handmaiden, Weenah, will assistyou.

"But, Kaloomah!" she continued archly.

"Yes, my moon-dream."

"You must not make love to my maiden, else alittle forest bird will peck poor Leeboo's heart topieces and Leeboo die."

—

I hardly think it would be putting it one whit toostrongly to say that the pale-face maiden queen hadturned this savage's head.

They all returned together at last to the palace, andthe queen with her little handmaiden retired to herchamber to dine.

As to Kaloomah, the spirit of pride had got into him, and this is really as difficult to get rid of as if onewere possessed of an evil spirit. So the chief, decoratedwith the garland of wild flowers that Leeboo thequeen had placed around his neck, could not resistthe temptation to parade himself on the plateau beforeKalamazoo's tent. He wished the prince to see him.And the prince did.

The prince, moreover, was strongly tempted torush forth, spear in hand, and slay his rival wherehe stood.

But he remembered in time that Kaloomah was notonly a great chief but a mighty warrior. Over andover again had he led the cannibal army against theglens and valleys of distant highland chiefs. And hehad been ever victorious, his soldiers returning aftera great slaughter of the foe, laden with heads andhams, to hold nights and nights of fearful orgie.

Kalamazoo knew that Kaloomah was the people'sfavourite, and that if he slew him, he himself wouldspeedily be torn limb from limb.

So he was content to gnash his own teeth, to counthis mother's over and over again, and to remain quiescent.

It is seldom indeed that a savage is troubled withsleeplessness, but that night poor Benee was far tooanxious to slumber soundly. For he knew not whatanother day might bring forth. It might be pregnantwith happiness for him and the young girls he lovedso dearly, or it might end in bloodshed and in death.

What a glorious morning broke over the woodlandsat last! Looking eastwards Benee could note a stripof the deepest orange just above the dark foresthorizon. This faded into palest green, and above allwas ethereal blue, with just one or two rosy clouds.And westwards those patches of snow in the hollow ofthe mighty Sierras were pink, with purple shadows.

And this innocent and unsophisticated savage benthimself low on his knees and prayed to Him whois the author of all that is beautiful, to bless hisenterprise and take his little mistress safe awayfrom this blood-stained land of darkness and woe.

He felt better when he rose to his feet. Then heentered the cottage and had breakfast.

"I will come again some day," he said, as his "mother"bade him a tearful farewell. "I will come again andtake Father and you to the far-off happy land of thepale-faces."

So he hied him away to the forest, looking backjust once to wave his hand.

He well knew the road that Weenah and Leeboo-no, let us call her Peggy once more-would take, ifindeed they should succeed in escaping.

He walked towards the river of Bitter Waters therefore, and, journeying for some miles along its wildromantic banks, lay down to wait.

Wild flowers trailed and climbed among the busheswhere he hid; he saw not their bright colours, hewas scarcely sensible of their perfume.

The soo-soo's song was sweet and plaintive; heheard it not.

He was wholly absorbed in thought. So the sun gothigher and higher, and still he waited andwatched-waited and hoped.

Only, ever and anon he would place his ear againstthe hard ground and listen intently.

'Twas noon, and they came not.

Something must have happened. Everything musthave failed.

What should he do? What could he do?

—

But hark! A joyful sound. It was that of a horseat the gallop, and it was coming nearer and nearer.

Benee grasped his rifle.

It must be she. It must, and was poor Peggy, andWeenah was seated behind her.

He looked quickly to his repeating rifle, and pattedthe revolvers in his belt.

"Oh, Benee, Benee! how rejoiced I am!"

"But are you followed, Missie Peggy?"

"No, no, Benee, we have ridden clean and clearaway from the savage chief Kaloomah, and we fearno pursuit."

"Ah, Missie! You not know de savage man. I do.Come. Make track now.

"Weenah," he added. "Oh, my love, Weenah! Butcome not down. We mus' fly foh de cannibal comein force."

It seemed but child's play to Benee to trot lightlyalong beside the pony.

Love, no doubt, made the labour lighter. Besides,on faithful little Dixie's back was all that Benee caredmuch for in the world, Weenah and "Missie Peggy".

True enough, he liked and respected Roland, andDick as well, but they were not all the world tohim as these girls were. And ever since he hadfound Roland and Peggy in the dark forest andrescued them, his little mistress had been in his eyesan angel. Never an unkind word was it possible forher to say to anyone, least of all-so he flatteredhimself-to Benee.

The poor, untutored savage felt, in his happiness, atthis moment, that it would be sweet to die were theloved ones only near to hold his hand.

But he could die, too, fighting for them; ay, fightingto the end. Who was he that would dare touch theground where Peggy or Weenah trod if he-Benee-werethere?

And so they journeyed on and on by the river's sideand through jungle and forest, never dreaming ofdanger or pursuit.

Ah! but wild as a panther was Kaloomah now.

When he found that he was baffled, befooled, deserted, then all his fury-the fury of an untamedsavage-boiled up from the bottom of his heart.

Love! Where was love now? It found no place inthis wild chief's heart; hate had supplanted it, and itwas a hate that must be quenched in blood. Yes, herblood! He would be revenged, and then-well then, the sooner he should die after that the better. Forhis life's sun had gone out, his days could only be daysof darkness now.

Yet how happy had he been only this morning, andhow proud when he stalked forth from his hut andpassed that of Kalamazoo, still wearing the wildflowers with which she had adorned him!

He tore those wild flowers from his neck now, andscattered them to the winds.

Then, as fast and fleet as ever savage ran, he hiedhim back to the palace.

Few had more stentorian lungs than Kaloomah!

"The queen has gone! The white queen has fled!"

That shout awakened one thousand armed men toaction, and in less than an hour they were on the warpath.

CHAPTER XXVII-THE FIGHT AT THE FORT

So toilsome was the road to trace, and so far awaywas the fortified camp of our heroes, that the sunwas almost setting before Benee arrived with hisprecious charge.

Why should I make any attempt to describe themeeting of Roland and Dick with the long-lost Peggy?

Roland and she had always been as brother andsister, and now that they were once more united, allher joy found vent in a flood of tears, which herbrother did what he could to stem.

It seemed hardly possible that she should be heresafe and sound, and in the presence of those wholoved her so well and dearly.

And here, too, was Brawn, who was delirious withjoy, and honest Bill with his meerschaum.

"Oh, surely I shall not awake and find it all adream!" she cried in terror. "Awake and find myselfstill in that awful palace, with its dreadful surroundingsand the odour of death everywhere! Oh-h!"

The girl shuddered.

"Dear Peggy," said Dick tenderly, "this is no dream; you are with us again, and we with you. All thepast is as nothing. Let us live for the future. Is thatright, Roland?"

"Yes, you must forget the past, Peggy," said Roland."Dick is right. The past shall be buried. We areyoung yet. The world is all before us. So come, laugh, and be happy, Peggy."

"And this charming child here, who is she?" saidDick. He alluded to Weenah.

"That is little Weenah, a daughter of the wilds, achild of the desert. Nay, but no child after all, areyou, Weenah?"

Weenah bent her dark eyes on the ground.

"I am nothing," she said. "I am nobody, only-Benee's."

"But, Weenah," said Peggy, taking the girl by thehand, "oh, how I shall miss you when you go!"

"Go?" said Weenah wonderingly.

"Yes, dear, you have a father and a mother, whoare fond of you. Must you not return soon to them?"

"My father and my mother I love," replied Weenah."And you I love, for you have taught me to pray tothe pale-face's God. You have taught me many, manythings that are good and beautiful. My life now isall joy and brightness, and so, though I love mymother and my father, oh! bid me not to leave you."

All this was spoken in the language of the country.It was Greek to those around them, but even Bill couldsee that the dark-eyed maiden was pleading forsomething, for her hand was in Peggy's, her eyes uponhers.

—

It was just at this moment that scouts camehurrying in from the forest, bringing news that wasstartling enough, as well as surprising.

These men had come speedily in, almost as fleet offoot as deer, and the word they brought was that thesavages, at least six hundred strong, were not morethan three hours distant.

Roland showed no excitement, whatever he mightfeel. Nor did Dick. Yet both were ready for action.

Burly Bill, who had been quietly smoking a littleway off, put his great thumb in the bowl of hismeerschaum, and stowed away that faithful companion ofhis in his coat-pocket.

Can a young fellow still in his teens, and whom weolder men are all too apt to sneer at as a mere boy, prove himself a good general. He may and he can, ifhe has grit in him and a head of some sort surmountinghis shoulders.

From what followed I think Roland proved that hewas in possession of both.

Well, he had descended from a long line of hardyCornish ancestors, and there is more in good bloodthan we are apt to believe.

He came to the front now at all events, and Dickand Bill, to say nothing of Benee, Rodrigo, and theother canoe captains, were ready to obey his everycommand.

Roland called a council of war at once, and it didnot take long to come to a decision.

Our chief hero was the principal speaker. Butbrave men do not lose much time in words.

"Boys," he said, "we've got to fight these rascallysavages. That's so, I think?"

"That's so," was the chorus.

"Well, and we've got to beat them, too. We wantto give them something that shall keep them bothquiet and civil until we can afford to send out a fewmissionaries to improve their morals.

"Now, Rodrigo, I cannot force you to fight."

"Force, sir? I need no force. Command me."

"Well, I will. I wish to outflank these beggars.You and our Indians, with Benee as your guide, arejust the men to do so.

"The moon will be up in another hour. It will bethe harvest-moon in England. The harvest-moon here, too-but a harvest, alas! of blood.

"Now, Benee," he continued, "as soon as we areready, guide these men with Captain Rodrigo for somedistance down-stream, then curl round the savages, and when they begin to retreat, or even before that, attack them in the rear. Good luck to you!"

As silently as ghosts two hundred and fifty well-armedIndians, a short time after Roland made thatbrave little speech, glided down the brow of the hill, and disappeared in the woods beyond.

Though our heroes listened, they could not hear asound, not even the crackling of a bush or brokenbranch.

Soon the moon glared red through the topmostboughs of the far-off trees, and flooded all the landwith a light almost as bright as day. The stars above, that before had glittered on the river's rippling breast, and the stars beneath-those wondrous flittingfire-insects-paled before its beams, and the night-birdssought for shelter in caves among the rocks. So overall the prairie and woodlands there fell a stillnessthat was almost oppressive. It was as if Nature heldher breath, expectant of the fight that was to follow.

Nor was that fight very long delayed. But it musthave been well on towards midnight before the firstindication of an approaching foe was made manifest.

Only a long, mournful hoot, away in the bush, andbearing a close resemblance to that of the owl.

It was repeated here and there from differentquarters, and our heroes knew that an attack wasimminent.

There was in the centre of the camp a roomy cave.In this all stores had been placed, with water enoughfor a night at all events, and here were Peggy andWeenah safely guarded by Brawn. Roland hadmanaged to make the darkness visible by lightingtwo candles and placing them on the wall.

In a smaller cave was Peter, and as he had givenevidence lately of a great desire to escape, the boyshad taken the liberty to rope him.

"You shall live to repent this," hissed the manthrough his teeth.

He had thrown overboard all his plausibility now, and assumed his natural self-the dangerous villain.

"Have a care," replied Dick, "or you will not livelong enough to repent of anything."

On one side of the camp was the river, down undera cliff of considerable height. It was very quiet andsluggish just here, and its gentle whispering was nolouder than a light breeze sighing through foresttrees.

There were, therefore, really only three sides of theparapet and hill to defend.

And now Burly Bill's quick ear caught the sound ofrustling down below.

"The savages are on us," he said quietly.

"Then give them a volley to begin with," answeredRoland.

The white men started down scores of huge stones; but this was more for the purpose of bringing thesavages into sight than with a view to wound or kill any.

It had the desired effect, and probably another, forthe cannibals must have believed the pale-faces hadno other means of defence.

They were seen now in the bright moonlightscrambling up-hill in scores, with knives in theirmouths and spears on their backs.

"Fire straight and steadily, men," cried the youngchief, Roland. "Fire independently, and every manat the enemy in front of him."

A well-aimed and rattling volley, followed byanother and another, made the Indians pause. Thenumber of dead and wounded was great, and impededthe progress of those who would have rushed up and on.

Volley after volley was now poured into the savageranks, but they came pressing up from behind asblack and fierce and numerous as a colony ofmountain-ants.

Their yelling and war-cries were terrible to hear.

But the continuous volley-firing still kept themat bay.

"The rockets, Dick, are they ready?"

"Yes, captain, all ready."

"Try the effect of these."

It was a fearful sight to witness those dreadweapons of warfare tear through the ranks of theseshrieking demons.

Death and mutilation was dealt on every side, andthe fire from the ramparts grew fiercer and fiercer.

Yet so terrible in their battle-wrath are thesecannibals, that-well our heroes knew-if they wereto scale the ramparts, even the white men would notbe able to stand against them.

Then the fight would degenerate into a massacre, and this would be followed by an orgie too awful tocontemplate.

At this moment there could not have been fewerthan five hundred savages striving to capture the littlehill on which stood the camp, and Roland's men in allwere barely eighty. Some who had exposedthemselves were speedily brought down with poisonedarrows, and already lay writhing in the agonies ofspasmodic death.

But see, led on by the chief Kaloomah himself, whoseems to bear a charmed life, the foremost ranks ofthose sable warriors have already all but gainedfooting on the ramparts, while with axe and adze thepale-faces endeavour to repel them.

In vain!

Kaloomah-great knife in hand-and at least a scoreof his braves have effected an entrance, and the whites, though fighting bravely, are being pushed, if notdriven back.

It is a terrible moment!

CHAPTER XXVIII-THE DREAM AND THE TERROR!

Far more acute in hearing are these children of thewilds than any white man who ever lived, andnow, just as hope was beginning to die out of evenRoland's heart, a sudden movement on the part of thesavages who had gained admittance caused him tomarvel.

More quickly than they had entered, back theysprang towards the parapet, and on gazing after them, our heroes found that the hill-sides were clear.

It was evident, however, that a great battle wasgoing on down beneath on the prairie.

Explanation is hardly needed.

Rodrigo's men, guided by Benee, had outflanked-nay, even surrounded-the foe, and with well-aimedvolleys had thrust them back and back towards theriver, into which, with wild agonizing shouts, all thatwas left of Kaloomah's army was driven.

They were excellent swimmers, the 'gators wereabsent from this river, and doubtless hundreds offugitives would find their way back into their owndark land to tell how well and bravely the pale-facescan fight.

But Kaloomah, where is he?

Intent on revenge, even while the battle raged thefiercest and the whites were being driven back, his quickeye caught the glimmer of the candle-light in the cave.

Leeboo was there, he told himself, and the falsewitch Weenah.

He shortened his knife, and made a rush for theentrance.

"Hab-a-rabb-rr-rr-ow!" That was the voiceof the great wolf-hound, as he sprang on the would-beassassin and pinned him to the ground.

Kaloomah's knife dropped from his hand as he triedto free himself.

But Brawn had him by the throat now, and had notbrave Peggy sprung to the assistance of the savage, the dog would have torn the windpipe from his neck.

But Kaloomah was prisoner, and when the fight wasall over, the dog was released from duty, and the chiefwas bound hand and foot and placed in the other cavebeside Peter.

This cave, which had thus been turned into a prison, possessed an entrance at the side, a kind of doorwaythrough the dark rocks, and a great hole at the top, through which daylight, or even moonlight, couldstream. At some not very distant date it hadevidently been used as a hut, and must have been thescene of many a fearful cannibal orgie, for scores ofhuman skulls were heaped up in corners, and calcinedbones were also found. Altogether, therefore, anunhallowed kind of place, and eerie beyond conception.

It is as well to tell the truth concerning the battleon the hill-top, ghastly though it may appear. Therewere no wounded men there, for even in the thickof the fight the savages not only slew the white menwho dropped, but their own maimed as well.

So long as the brave fellows under Roland andDick held the ramparts, and poured their volleys intothe ranks of the enemy beneath, scarcely a white manwas hurt; but when the battlements were carried bystorm, then the havoc of war commenced in earnest; and at daylight a great deep trench was excavated, and in this no fewer than eleven white men wereplaced, side by side.

A simple prayer was said, then a hymn wassung-a sad dirge-like hymn to that sacred aircalled "Martyrdom", which has risen in olden timesfrom many a Scottish battle-field, where the heatherwas dripping blood. I take my fiddle and play itnow, and that mournful scene rises up before me, inwhich the white men crowd around the long quietgrave, where their late companions lie sleeping in thetomb.

Every head is bared in the morning sunshine, everyeye is wet with tears.

It is Bill himself who leads the melody.

Then clods are gently thrown upon the dead, andsoon the grave is filled.

—

There was not the slightest apprehension now thatthe battle would be renewed, and so all the day wasspent in getting ready for the long march back to thespot where, under the charge of one of the captainsand his faithful peons, the great canoes had been left.

Among the stores brought here to camp-thesuggestion had emanated from Roland's mother andBeeboo-was a chest containing many changes ofraiment and dresses belonging to Peggy. In the cave, then, both she and Weenah conducted their toilet, andwhen, some time after, and just as breakfast wasabout to be served, they both came out, it wouldhave been difficult, indeed, to keep from exclamationsof surprise.

Even Benee gave way to his excitement, and, seizingWeenah, held her for a moment high in air.

"I rejoice foh true!" he cried. "All ober my heartgo flapperty-flap. Oh, Weenah! you am now all sameone red pale-face lady."

Dick thought Peggy, with her bonnie sun-tannedface, more lovely now than ever he had seen her.

—

But while they are breakfasting, and while themen are quietly but busily engaged getting the storesdown-hill, let us take a peep into the cave where theprisoners are.

When Kaloomah was thrust into the cave, Peterwas fast asleep. Of late he had become utterlytired and careless of life. Was his not a wreckedexistence from beginning to end? This was a questionthat he oftentimes asked himself sadly enough.

During the fight that had raged so long and fiercelyhe had remained perfectly passive. What was it tohim who won or who lost? If the Indians won, hewould speedily be put out of pain. If the white menwere the victors-well, he would probably die justthe same. At all events, life was not worth having now.

Then, when the lull of battle came, when the wildshrieks and shouting were over, and when the rattlingof musketry was no longer heard, he felt utterly tired.He would sleep, he told himself, and what cared heif it should be

 
"The sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil or night of waking"?
 

The cords that bound him hurt a little, but he wouldnot feel their pressure when-he slept.

His was not a dreamless sleep by any means, thougha long one.

His old, old life seemed to rise up before him. Hewas back again in England-dear old England! Hewas a clerk, a confidential clerk.

He had no care, no complications, and he was happy.Happy in the love of a sweet girl who adored him; the girl that he would have made his wife. Poor?Yes, both were; but oh! when one has innocence andsweet contentment, love can bloom in a garret.

Yet envy of the rich began to fill his soul. Theworld was badly divided. Why had he to tread thestreets day after day with muddy boots to his office, and back to his dingy home after long hours of toiland drudgery at the desk?

Oh for comfort! Oh for riches!

The girl that was to be his was more beautiful thanmany who lolled in cushioned carriages, with liveriedservants to attend their beck and call.

So his dream went on, and dreams are but half-wakingthoughts.

But it changes now!

He sees Mary his sweetheart, wan and pale, withtears in her eyes for him whose voice she may neverhear again.

For the tempter has come with gold and withgolden promises.

And he has fallen!

Other men have fallen before. Why not he whenso much was to be gained? So much of-nay, not ofglory, but of gold. What is it that gold cannot do?

A conscience? Yes, he had possessed one once.But this tempter had laughed heartily when he talkedof so old-fashioned a possession. It was all a matterof business.

Behold those wealthy men who glide past in theirbeautiful landaus. Did they have consciences? Ifthey did, then, instead of a town and country house, their home would soon be the garret vile in someback slum in London.

Again the dream changes. To the fearful andawful now. For, stretched out before him is Mary, wan and worn-Mary, DEAD!

He awakes with a shriek, and sits up with his backagainst the black rock.

His hand touches something cold. It is a skull, and he shudders as he thrusts it away.

But is he awake? He lifts his fettered hands andrubs his eyes.

He gazes in terror at someone that is sitting, justas he is, with his back against the wall-and asleep.

The rough dress is all disarranged, and the brownhands are covered with blood. It is an awful vision.

He shuts his eyes a moment, but when he opensthem again the man is still there! The terror!

The morning sun is glimmering in and fallingdirectly on the awful sleeping face.

He sits bolt upright now and leans forward.

"Kaloomah!" he cries. "Kaloomah!"

And his own voice seems to belong to some spiritbehind those prison walls.

But the terror awakes.

And the eyes of the two men meet.

"Don Pedro! You here?"

"Kaloomah. I am."

CHAPTER XXIX-EASTWARD HO! FOR MERRIE ENGLAND

Captain Roland St. Clair, as he was calledby his men, was busy along with Dick and Billin superintending the sending-off of all heavybaggage down-stream, when a man came up and saluted him.

"Well, Harris?"

"The prisoner Peter desires to speak with you, sir,in the presence of two witnesses. He wished me torequest you to bring paper, pen, and ink. It is hisdesire that you should take his deposition."

"Deposition, Harris? But the man is not dying."

"Well, perhaps not, sir. I only tell you what he says."

"I will be in his cell in less than twenty minutes,Harris."

"Dick," said Roland, at the appointed time, "thereis some mystery here. Come with me, and you also,Bill."

"What I have to say must be said briefly andquickly," said Peter, sitting up. "I will not givemyself the pain," he added, "to think very muchabout the past. It is all too dark and horrible. ButI make this confession, unasked for and being still inpossession of all my faculties and reasoning power."

He spoke very slowly, and Dick wrote down theconfession as he made it.

"I am guilty, gentlemen. Dare I say 'withextenuating circumstances'? That, however, will be foryou to consider. As the matter stands I do not begfor my life, but rather that you should deal with meas I deserve to be treated.

"Death, believe me, gentlemen, is in my case preferableto life. But listen and judge for yourselves, andif parts of my story need confirmation, behold yonderis Kaloomah, and he it was whom I hired to carryyour adopted sister away, where in all humanprobability she could never more be heard of again.Have you got all that down?"

"I have," said Dick.

"But," said Roland, "what reason had you to takeso terrible a revenge on those who never harmed you,if revenge indeed it was?"

"It was not revenge. What I did, I did for greedof gold. Listen.

"I was happy in England, and had I only beencontent, I might now have been married and incomfort, but I fell, and am now the heart-broken villainyou see before you.

"You know the will your uncle made, Mr. St. Clair?"

"I have only heard of it."

"It was I who copied it for my master, the wretchedsolicitor.

"I stole that copy and re-copied it, and sold it tothe only man whom it could benefit, and that wasyour Uncle John."

"My Uncle John? He who sent you out to mypoor, dear father?"

"The same. But let me hurry on. The real willis still in possession of the solicitor, and it givesall the estates of Burnley Hall, in Cornwall, toJohn, in the event of Peggy's death."

"I begin to see," said Dick.

"My reward was to have been great, if I managedthe affair properly. I have never had it, and, alas!I need it not now.

"But," he continued, "your villainous uncle was toogreat a coward to have Peggy murdered. His lastwords to me on board the steamer before I sailedwere: 'Remember-not one single drop of bloodshed.'

"I might have done worse than even I did, but thesewere the words that instigated my vile plot, of whichI now most heartily repent. All I had to do was toget apparent proof of Peggy's death."

"And my Uncle John now holds the estates ofBurnley Hall? Is that so?"

"He does. The solicitor could not help but producethe will, on hearing of Peggy's capture and death.

"That, then, is my story, gentlemen. Before HeavenI swear it is all true. It is, moreover, my deposition, for I already feel the cold shadow of death creepingover me. Yes, I will sign it."

He did so.

"I makee sign too," said Kaloomah.

"That is the man whom I hired to do the deed,"said Peter again.

And Kaloomah made his mark.

"I feel easier now, gentlemen" continued Peter."But leave me a while. I would sleep."

—

Kaloomah had all a savage's love for the horrible, and he was merely an interested spectator of thetragedy that followed.

Between him and Peter lie two poison-tipped arrows.

At first Peter looks at them like one dazed. Thenhe glances upwards at the glorious sunshine streamingin through the opening.

Nearer and nearer he now creeps to those arrows!

Nearer and nearer!

Now he positions them with his manacled hands.

Then strikes.

In half an hour's time, when Burly Bill entered thecave to inform the prisoners that it was time for themto be on the road, he started back in horror.

Peter, fearfully contorted, lay on the floor of thecave, dead.

—

Some weeks after this the party found themselvesonce more near to the banks of the rapid Madeira.

Everything had gone well with those captains andpeons whom they had left behind, and now everypreparation was made to descend the stream with allpossible speed, consonant with safety.

They had taken Kaloomah thus far, lest he shouldreturn and bring another army to attack them.

And now a kind of drum-head court-martial washeld on this wild chief, at which even Charlie andBenee were present.

"I really don't see," said Roland, "what good hascome of saddling ourselves with a savage."

"No, I agree with you, Roll," said Dick. "Peter hasgone to his account, and really this Kaloomah hasbeen more sinned against than he has sinned."

"What would you advise, Bill?"

"Why, I'd give him a rousing kick and let him go."

"And you Benee?"

"I go for hangee he."

"Charlie, what would you do?"

Charlie was smiling and rubbing his hands; it wasevident he had formulated some plan that satisfiedhimself.

"I tie dat savage to one biggee stake all by deribber, den watch de 'gator come, chumpee, chumpeehe."

But a more merciful plan was adopted. Kaloomahevidently expected death, but when Roland himselfcut his bonds and pointed to the west, the savage gavejust one wild whoop and yell, and next moment hehad disappeared in the forest.

—

Were I beginning a story instead of ending one, Ishould not be able to resist the temptation to describethat voyage down the beautiful Madeira.

It must suffice to say that it was all one long andhappy picnic.

Just one grief, however, had been Peggy's at thestart. Poor Dixie, the pony, must be left behind.

She kissed his forehead as she bade him good-bye, and her face was wet with tears as she turned herback to her favourite.

Roland did what he could to comfort her.

"Dixie will soon be as happy as any horse canbe," he said. "He will find companions, and will livea long, long time in the wilds of this beautiful land.So you must not grieve."

—

There are times when people in this world are soinexpressibly happy that they cannot wish evil tohappen even to their greatest enemies. They feelthat they would like every creature, every being onearth, to be happy also.

Surely it is with some such spirit that angels andsaints in heaven are imbued.

Had you been on board the steamship Panamaas she was swiftly ploughing her way through thewide blue sea that separates Old England from SouthAmerica, from Pará and the mouths of the mightyAmazon, you could not have been otherwise thanstruck with the evident contentment and happiness ofa group of saloon passengers there. Whether walkingthe quarter-deck, or seated on chairs under the awning,or early in the morning surrounding their own speciallittle breakfast-table, pleasure beamed in every eye, joy in every face.

Who were they? Listen and I shall tell you.

There was Roland, Dick, Roland's sweet-facedmother, Peggy; and last, but certainly not leastin size at all events, there was dark-skinnedjolly-looking Burly Bill himself.

But Burly Bill did not obtrude his company toomuch on the younger folks. He was fond of walkingon the bridge and talking to the officer on duty.Fond, too, of blowing a cloud from his lips as theydallied with his great meerschaum. Fond of tellinga good story, but fonder still of listening to one, and often chuckling over it till he appeared quiteapoplectic.

There was someone else on board who must bementioned. And this was Dixie, the pony!

Did he remain on the banks of the Madeira? Nothe. For by some means or other he found his way-somarvellous is the homing instinct in animals-backto the old plantation long before Roland and hislittle army, and was the first to run out to meet Peggyand get a kiss on his soft warm snout.

Need I add that Brawn was one of the passengers?And a happy dog he was, and always ready for a larkwhen the sailors chose to throw a belaying-pin for him.

Dick had had a grief to face when he returned.

His uncle was dead. So he determined-as didRoland with his plantation-to sell off and return toEngland, for a time at all events.

The two estates are now worked by a "CompanyLtd.", but Jake Solomons is head overseer.

Benee, who has married his "moon-dream", littleWeenah, is second in command, and right merry ofa morning is the boom and the song of the old buzz-saw.

—

So happy, then, were Roland and Dick and Peggythat they concluded they would not be too hard onwicked Uncle John.

This wicked Uncle John went into retirement afterthe arrival of our heroes and heroine. He might havebeen sent into retirement of quite a different sort ifRoland had cared to press matters.

Peggy got all her own again. She is nowMrs. Temple, and Dick and she are beloved by all thetenantry-yes, and by all the county gentry andfarmer folks round and round.

I had almost forgotten to say a last word aboutBeeboo. She is Mrs. Temple's chief servant, and aright happy body is Beeboo, and Burly Billy is estatemanager.

Now, if any of my readers want a special treat, lethim or her try to get an invitation to spend Christmasat Burnley Old Hall.