Читать книгу In Search of El Dorado - Harry Collingwood - Страница 8

The expedition consisted of fifteen persons all told, namely, Wilfrid Earle, the chief and leader; Dick Cavendish, his lieutenant; Peter, Earle’s negro cook and a chef of surpassing skill, capable of concocting appetising dishes out of the most meagre and unpromising materials; and the twelve recruits from Conceicao, one of whom, named Inaguy, at once the most masterful and intelligent of them, Earle immediately appointed headman of the gang, with a small increase of pay, at the same time making him responsible for the good behaviour of those under him.

There was a fresh easterly breeze blowing when the double canoe—or raft, as they agreed to term her—cast off from alongside the Mohawk, and under its influence the craft, with one leeboard down, slid across the Javari at a speed that was as surprising as it was gratifying. And when at length she slid in between the low, forest-clad banks of the Tecuachy, the breeze was still fair for her, although the closer proximity of the shores to each other caused it to come at times in baffling flaws. Dick, as the sailor of the party, was naturally in command, and when at length the sunlight vanished from the tree-tops on the eastern shore of the stream, giving warning of the near approach of night, he ran the raft into a convenient bight on the lee shore—that the mosquitoes might not come off to them against the wind during the night—and came to an anchor in the midst of what seemed to be an unpeopled wilderness.

But if the country round about them was empty of human inhabitants—and even of this they could not be certain—it seemed to be full to overflowing of life of another sort, for no sooner had the swift tropic night descended upon the adventurers, than the hot, humid air became vibrant with sound, the dominant note of which was the chur and hum of myriads of insects haunting the dense forest on either hand, and the still more dense undergrowth which cumbered the soil between the trunks of the trees. This great volume of indescribable sound—amazing because of its intensity, coupled with the knowledge that it was created, for the most part, by creatures of almost microscopic dimensions—was continuous, merely rising and falling at irregular intervals, like the sough of the wind through the tree-tops; but it was constantly broken in upon by other sounds, the most prominent of which was perhaps the croaking of innumerable frogs, sounding like the rapid whirr of wooden rattles and lasting continuously for a period of several minutes, and then ceasing abruptly, as though at a signal, to recommence as abruptly a few minutes later. These sounds were commonplace enough, and after an hour or two to allow the ear to become accustomed to them, would of themselves have been soothing and conducive to somnolence rather than the reverse, but they were constantly being broken into by others so strange, and in some cases so weird, that the night threatened to be a sleepless one for at least the two white men of the party. For instance, at pretty frequent intervals there came from the depths of the forest, now here, now there, what sounded like the notes of a bell, followed perhaps by a weird unearthly scream, which would be taken up and repeated on all hands until it needed but a small effort of the imagination to convince the listener that some ghastly tragedy was being enacted in his immediate vicinity. And the effect was further heightened by strange moanings and groanings, as of people in mortal agony, queer sobbing sounds, cries as of children in distress, and, intermingled with these, savage grunts and snarlings, barking, as of angry dogs, loud whistling, coughing, roaring, sudden and violent rustlings among the underbush, an occasional loud crash proclaiming the fall of some forest giant, and, nearer at hand, sudden rushes and swirling sounds in the water about the raft.

Immediately after coming to an anchor for the night Earle had drawn forth from among the many bales and packages that were stowed on the deck of the raft a long bundle, which, upon being cast loose, resolved itself into the constituents of a double-skinned tent, the inner skin being made of loosely woven cotton canvas, while the outer skin—with six inches of air space between it and the inner—was made of light but thoroughly waterproof material, warranted by its maker to withstand even the assault of a tropical deluge. This tent the two white men quickly set up on the deck of the raft, between the two masts, when it was seen to be roomy enough to accommodate two camp beds with a table of convenient size between them, high enough for even Dick to stand upright in it, and with sufficient space between the table and the entrance to accommodate two deck chairs. When the beds were made up on the folding pallets, a lighted hurricane lamp suspended from the ridge pole of the tent, and the table laid for dinner, the interior presented an eminently cosy and comfortable appearance, and its two occupants sat down to the meal provided for them by the inestimable Peter with excellent appetites.

But they did not linger long over the pleasures of the table, for there was still work to be done before they could conscientiously seek the beds that wooed them, that work consisting in the unpacking of their weapons and ammunition, and making the former ready for instant service. This task they undertook immediately after dinner, sitting side by side just within the entrance of the tent.

Earle had been, according to Dick’s notion, lavishly extravagant in the provision of firearms for the expedition, the total armoury amounting to no less than twenty-one weapons; namely, three Westley-Richards five-shot .318 repeating rifles; three Remington U.M.C. five-shot 35 repeating rifles, firing soft-nosed bullets; two 12A Standard U.M.C. fifteen-shot .22 repeating rifles—the last five being especially intended for big game and fighting; three Westley-Richards double-barrel 12-gauge smooth-bores; two Smith hammerless 10-gauged ditto; two Remington U.M.C. 12-gauge six-shot repeating smooth-bores; and six Colt Government model seven-shot .45 calibre automatic pistols. But, as Earle explained, “when you go exploring and hunting, you need a variety of weapons for different purposes; and there is also the contingency of possible loss to be considered; moreover, in a fight, with tremendously heavy odds against you, a strong battery of weapons rapidly used, will often put the enemy to flight before he has time to get to close quarters.”

The two friends were busily engaged in unpacking, setting up and loading their weapons, chatting animatedly together meanwhile, and pausing from time to time to gaze contemplatively into the velvet darkness which represented the forest-clad nearer bank of the river before them, when suddenly Dick caught sight of what looked like two small greenish-yellow lamps close together that had suddenly revealed themselves in the blackness. They were quite motionless, and the lad scarcely knew what to make of them.

“Look, Earle,” he murmured. “Do you see those two small lights over there? What can they be, I wonder?”

Earle, who was intent upon his work, looked up.

“Lights!” he exclaimed. “Where? Oh, yes, I see. They are not lights, my unsophisticated youth, they are the eyes of an animal—a carnivorous animal, I judge, by the look of them—which has come down to the river to drink, and is doubtless wondering who and what the dickens we are.”

He glanced eagerly about him for a moment, then pointed to one of the weapons which Dick had already put together and loaded.

“Just hand me that Remington U.M.C. rifle, old chap—it is loaded, isn’t it? Good! This will be a capital chance to try it.”

The eyes were still plainly visible, apparently staring steadily at the lamp-lit entrance of the tent and the two figures seated therein. Without rising from his seat, Earle slowly lifted the rifle to his shoulder, and the next instant the whip-like report of it rang out, to be instantly succeeded by a tremendous outburst of every imaginable sound from the forest, amid which the cries of countless startled birds and the sudden rush of their wings predominated. But Dick had kept his gaze steadily riveted upon those two faintly shining orbs across there in the blackness, and when the flash of the rifle lit up that blackness for the fraction of a second he caught an instantaneous glimpse of a foreshortened tawny-hided black-spotted form, with a rounded head and short ears, standing at the very edge of the water, staring steadfastly toward the raft. Then, as the vision vanished, a snarling sound, half roar, half shriek, met his ears, followed by a few convulsive splashes—then stillness.

“By Jove! I believe you’ve hit him,” he exclaimed, excitedly starting to his feet. “It was a leopard; I saw him by the flash of the rifle.”

“No; not a leopard, my son,” answered Earle. “So far as I know, there are no leopards in America—except in menageries. But it may have been a panther or jaguar. Let’s get into the canoe and investigate. We’ll take the lantern with us, and the rifle, to guard against possible accidents.”

Part of the equipment of the expedition consisted of a very handsome little fifteen-foot cedar-built canoe, intended to be towed astern of the raft, and there it now floated, attached to the raft by a slender painter. Unhooking the hurricane lamp, Dick led the way aft, followed by Earle with the rifle in his hands, and presently they had both taken their seats in the cockleshell of a craft. She was fitted with rowlocks for use, with a short pair of sculls for the especial benefit of Dick, who knew nothing as yet of how to handle a paddle. They were half way to the shore when Earle, holding up the lantern on the end of a boathook, caught sight of the motionless body of his victim lying half in and half out of the water.

“There he is, and stone dead, if I’m any judge!” he exclaimed. And even as he spoke a great black head appeared close to the body, the sound of snapping jaws was heard, and with a sudden swirl of water both head and body disappeared in the black depths, to be seen no more.

“Con-found it!” exclaimed Earle, savagely. “Now, if that isn’t too bad! My first jaguar, too, and a fine one at that; and a beastly ’gator has stolen him from almost under my nose. Let up, Dick—or, rather, turn back. It’s no good. That darned ’gator has got my jaguar safe down there in the mud, and we shall never see him again. Well, never mind, I daresay we shall get plenty of other chances. But I’ll watch out and not be caught napping next time.”

What Earle said was true; the jaguar was gone beyond hope of recovery, and the only thing to be done was to turn back. Back they accordingly went, to resume their work of putting their battery in order; nor did they cease their labours until every weapon had been unpacked, put together, thoroughly cleaned, and loaded in readiness for any emergency. Then they retired to their respective couches, and after Peter had carefully closed the mosquito curtains round them and extinguished the hurricane lamp, proceeded to “woo the drowsy god.”

But the novelty of their surroundings, the enervating heat, and the multitudinous sounds that filled the night kept sleep at bay for several hours, and it was not until the cool air that usually heralds morning in the tropics blew in upon them through the open flap of the tent that they actually sank into a sound slumber, from which they were awakened only too soon by Peter with their matutinal cup of chocolate.

“I suppose,” mused Dick, as he stepped out of the tent, pyjama-clad, and gazed down into the turbid waters of the river, “it would be hardly wise to indulge in a swim, though I feel that it is just the one thing I need above all others to freshen me up.”

“Swim!” retorted Earle, who stood beside him. “My dear chap, I don’t know the precise depth of water just here, but I would be prepared to bet a substantial sum that if a man were foolish enough to take a header off here, he would never come up again; for if he didn’t stick in the mud of the bottom, that alligator who stole my jaguar last night, or some of his relations, would have him before he could come to the surface again. No, no; no swimming for us at present, my boy; we shall have to make out as best we can with our collapsible ‘tubs,’ which I see Peter has already filled for us, aft there. There! what did I tell you? See that? What sort of a chance do you think you would have with a chap like that?” And as he spoke he pointed to a spot not half a dozen yards away, where the head of an alligator had suddenly broken water, lazily swimming up against the current. The ripples which marked the slight movements of the brute’s tail showed that he must have measured quite fifteen feet from end to end.

They bathed and breakfasted at leisure; and then, as there was no wind, and Earle did not wish to impose upon his crew the labour of sweeping the raft up-stream against the current if it could be avoided, the two white men took the canoe, a repeating rifle and a smooth-bore, and went ashore, effecting a landing at the spot where the jaguar had been shot on the previous night, and which they now saw had been formed into a tiny bit of beach through the breaking down of the bank by the animals which evidently came to that particular spot to drink. They had no difficulty in finding the spoor of the lost jaguar, indeed it was the first thing to attract their attention upon stepping ashore, and as Earle gazed down upon the deep indentations in the plastic mud he execrated the thieving alligator afresh, for the prints were as big as the palm of his hand, indicating that the beast must have been a particularly fine specimen.

At first they experienced very little difficulty in making their way through the dense undergrowth, their plan being simply to follow the path beaten down by the animals; but after travelling about a hundred yards this path became merged into a number of others, evidently not quite so much used, and in these the going was much more difficult, the scrub not being so completely beaten down. So difficult of passage did they at length find it that they were seriously discussing the advisability of giving up the attempt and turning back, when Earle, who was leading the way, suddenly declared that he saw light ahead, and pushing resolutely on, the explorers presently burst their way into a wide open space of some ten or twelve acres extent, in which, for some unknown reason, no trees were growing, save a few scattered saplings, the tallest of which was not more than nine or ten feet high.

As they emerged into the open the pair involuntarily came to a halt, entranced by the extraordinary beauty of the scene that met their gaze. The open space, roughly circular in shape, was completely hemmed in on every side by trees, some of which were of enormous size, while the tints of their foliage varied through every shade of green, from that of the young bud to a depth of tone that was nearly black. Nor was green by any means the only tint displayed; for some of the trees appeared to be clothed with flowers of vivid flaming scarlet, instead of leaves, while the leaves of others, instead of being green, were of a deep, rich crimson hue, or a fine ruddy bronze, like that of the copper beech. And, as though this were not in itself enough of beauty, many of the more sombre foliaged trees were draped and festooned in riotous profusion with parasitic creepers, the blooms upon which would have driven a painter to distraction, so rich and varied were their tints, while the shapes of some of them were fantastic enough to suggest that Dame Nature must have been under the influence of a nightmare when she formed them. A few of them were merely giant creepers, but Earle, who possessed more than a smattering knowledge of botany, declared that most of them were orchids, several of which were new to him. The air of the place was heavy with mingled odours—one might almost have called them perfumes, were it not for a certain smack of rankness and pungency in them—and alive with birds, varying in size from that of a bumble bee up to that of a carrion crow, a few specimens of which could be seen perched here and there on the topmost branches of the tallest trees. Several of the birds were of the humming bird or sunbird species, and these, of course, gleamed and flashed in the sunlight like winged jewels, while nearly all boasted plumage of pronouncedly vivid colouring.

The two friends were still standing together on the spot where they had come to a halt when first entering the clearing, and Earle was expatiating upon the beauty and rarity of some of the orchids in their immediate neighbourhood, when they suddenly became aware of the presence of a large deer on the opposite side of the clearing. So silently had the creature come that neither of those who now stood watching him had been aware of the moment of his coming, nor could they discern the spot from which he had emerged. The animal was standing as motionless as a statue, with head erect, and he seemed to be sniffing the air, searching it for hostile odours, so to speak. He appeared to be quite unaware of their presence, a fact not very difficult to account for, since the sun was shining strongly in his eyes, while the two friends were not only standing in deep shadow, but also chanced to have come to a halt immediately behind a thick bush, which effectually hid all but their heads from the deer.

Instinctively, Earle began slowly to lift his rifle, but only to lower it again, as he murmured to Dick:

“Too far off—a good three-hundred yards if an inch. We’ll wait a bit. I believe he has not yet seen us, and if so, he may come a bit nearer. I guess this is where he comes every day to graze. Ah! I thought so”—as the animal lowered his head and began to crop the rich grass. “Crouch down and keep silent; with luck and patience we’ll get him before long.”

It was weary work, to Dick at least, crouching behind that bush, for the grass was long, and full of ticks, ants and other minute pests, which lost no time in insinuating themselves between his clothes and his skin, until the torment of his itching became almost unendurable. But Earle was, or seemed to be, inured to such trifling discomforts, and continued, motionless as a graven image, to kneel on one knee behind the bush, intently watching through its interstices the movements of the unsuspecting deer. And those movements were exasperatingly deliberate, for the grass was rich, luscious and abundant, enabling the animal to secure several mouthfuls before it became necessary for it to move by so much as a step, while, further to tax the patience of the watchers, the movements were vexatiously erratic, now here, now there, and as often as not away from rather than toward the spot where the two men crouched behind the screen of shrub.

At length Earle’s patience began to show signs of giving out. He very cautiously altered his position, changing from one knee to the other; a little later he knelt upon both knees, and a little later he sat down. Finally, finding this attitude unfavourable for shooting, he again got upon one knee. By this time, however, the insect invaders of his person were making their presence so distinctly felt that even his iron self-control was beginning to succumb to their persistence, and at length he murmured to Dick:

“Guess I’ll have to risk a long shot, after all. At this rate it may be hours before the beast will draw appreciably nearer, and meanwhile, at any moment something may happen to scare him away.” And very slowly and carefully he proceeded to raise the rifle to his shoulder.

It was while he was doing this that the deer suddenly stopped feeding, and, with his head still close to the ground, seemed gradually to stiffen until his whole body became rigid.

“What’s the matter now?” grumbled Earle, becoming rigid in his turn. “Wonder whether he has scented us. But I guess not—at this distance. There is no wind, and—Gee! that explains it.” And he excitedly sprang to his feet, his example being instantly followed by Dick.

What had happened was this. The deer had stood perfectly rigid for perhaps half a minute, during which Earle had also suspended all movement, under the impression that the quarry had caught a momentary glimpse of something suspicious behind the screening bush. Then, while the watchers waited tensely for the next development to occur, something—for the moment it was impossible to say precisely what it was—had flashed into view from out of the long grass, within a yard or so of where the deer stood, and the next second the unfortunate creature was enveloped in the coils of a huge python. As the watchers of the unexpected tragedy sprang to their feet they distinctly heard the bones of the deer crack as the serpent constricted its coils about its victim; and then Earle, with an ejaculation of anger, sprang out from behind the bush, and, with Dick at his elbow, started at a run towards the spot as the deer sank with a groan into the long grass.

A few seconds sufficed the pair to reach their goal, or at least near enough to it for them to see that the unfortunate deer was not yet quite dead, for its hind legs, which were not involved in the coils of the python, were kicking out feebly, while its eyes gazed up at them pitifully with an expression that might easily have been interpreted into a prayer for deliverance from its sufferings. As for the python, it was already relaxing its awful grip upon the body of its victim, and had thrown off one coil as the two friends came into view. Earle, who seemed to know something of the nature of the creature, warned Dick to stand back, as the reptile was loosening itself in readiness to make a spring. But he himself evidently had no fear of the snake, for as it reared its great head and gave vent to an angry hiss, he threw up his rifle, and, standing his ground, fired a shot that went crashing through its right eye and out at the back of the skull.

The next instant Dick received a blow across the chest that not only knocked the breath out of him, but sent him to the ground with a crash, while the threshing of the creature’s body upon the earth, as it writhed and twisted convulsively in its death agony, might have been heard from one end of the glade to the other. Earle dashed forward and quickly dragged Dick out of the way before assisting the lad to regain his feet, and it was well that he did so, for the next moment the monster was writhing and pounding upon the very spot from which Dick had been dragged. And it was quite upon the cards that, but for Earle’s prompt action, the young Englishman might have been enveloped by those writhing coils, and every bone in his body broken. As it was, no great harm was done; and as soon as Earle saw that his friend was safe, and that in its struggles the python was moving steadily away from the spot, he sprang in, and whipping out his big hunting knife, quickly drew it across the dying deer’s throat, thus terminating its sufferings.

“Poor brute!” he murmured, regarding the mangled body of the dead deer; “if I had but made up my mind and pressed the trigger a few seconds earlier, you would have been spared a good deal of terror and suffering. As it is—well, let us get back to the raft, Dick, and send a couple of men to bring in the deer. Its tongue and hind-quarters are untouched, and will afford all hands a meal of fresh meat, if we can secure it before the vultures come along. But we shall have to hurry, for unless I am mistaken, there is the vanguard of their army already.” And he pointed upwards towards a few small dark dots in the sky that had suddenly and mysteriously appeared.

They hastened back to the raft and hurriedly explained to Inaguy, the Indian headman, what had happened, and what Earle wanted done; and a few minutes later two of the blacks sprang into the canoe and paddled away to the shore, to return an hour later, with the head, hind-quarters, and skin of the deer, but with the declaration that they had been wholly unable to find the body of the python.

By this time a little breeze had sprung up from a quarter which would just enable the raft to lay her course up the reach of the river in which it then was, and the sails were accordingly set and the craft got under way. But the wind was so scant that the raft was able to do little more than hold her own against the current; and when they anchored that night, they estimated that they had covered little more than eight miles of ground.

For an entire week the journey up the stream progressed in pretty much the same deliberate fashion, at the end of which time they were detained for a whole day by a furious outburst of wind, rain, thunder and lightning, in the course of which the raft broke adrift, and, but for Dick’s skilful handling of the situation, would probably have been lost, with all the party’s belongings, and, quite possibly, a few lives as well. As it was, they were driven back some ten miles down stream before a suitable refuge could be found and the raft again safely anchored. It was the worst storm that Dick had experienced, and even Earle admitted that it far surpassed the worst that he had ever encountered, even in the interior of Africa. The wind blew with hurricane force, stripping the trees of their leaves and even of some of their branches, so that the air was full of flying débris, while the lightning flashed and the thunder roared and boomed and crashed in a continuous deafening medley of sound that might almost have excused the belief that the foundations of the earth were being torn asunder. And all the time the rain came pounding down out of the storm-riven clouds in such a deluge that it was difficult to draw one’s breath while exposed to it. But even this does not convey any very clear idea of the copiousness of the downpour, which will perhaps be more easily realised from the statement that within the short space of twenty minutes it completely filled and swamped the canoe. This storm burst upon the travellers about eleven o’clock at night, and it continued with unabated fury all through the next day until within about half an hour of sunset.

For the following three days the weather continued unsettled; then it cleared, and the raft resumed her journey. But her progress was slow, owing to the scantness of the wind, and for the next ten days they were able to accomplish only a few miles a day, the current running strong against them. Then, late on a certain afternoon, they reached a point where the bed of the river was obstructed by rapids, and the raft was moored for the night so that the banks might be explored on the morrow for portage facilities. And now it was that the real difficulties of the journey began to reveal themselves; for upon attempting to find a path through the forest, which grew right down to the water’s edge on both banks of the river, the explorers found the undergrowth to be so absolutely impenetrable that, even to make their own way through it, it was necessary to employ a gang of men to cut a path. And this was a slow process, for not only had the tough tangle of creepers, of which the underbush was chiefly composed, to be cut away, but it had to be afterwards removed from the path, so that the better part of three days was consumed in this way before a road was cleared to the upper end of the rapids.

Then followed the laborious task of carrying the various items of their equipment up through the quarter of a mile of roughly cut pathway, which consumed the whole of another day. And finally came the dismembering of the raft itself, and the porterage of its component parts and the canoe to the upper end of the rapids, where it was put together again. Thus, altogether, the intervention of those rapids involved the travellers in a loss of no less than five days.

The four which followed were much more favourable, the raft covering a distance of nearly sixty miles during that period. Then a stretch of some four miles of river bed was encountered so cumbered and choked with rocks that its navigation was impossible, and the raft had again to be taken to pieces and transported overland. And when this obstacle was at length surmounted, it was found that the channel of the stream had become so contracted that the further use of the raft as a concrete structure was out of the question; the wooden platform, with the masts and sails, as also the metal decks of the two canoe-like pontoons, were therefore abandoned, after carefully enveloping them in tarpaulins brought along for the purpose; and after their place of concealment had been marked, so that it might easily be found again in the event of the expedition returning by that route, the journey was continued in the open pontoons and the canoe. Finally, when at length the party had been travelling for nearly five weeks upon the river, they reached a point where navigation was no longer possible, even for the small canoe, and it became necessary to take to the forest, still, however, keeping in touch with the stream as nearly as possible, for the sake of the water.

It is not necessary for the purposes of this story to enlarge upon the difficulties with which the travellers now had to contend; they may be left to the imagination of the reader, merely remarking that in many places the trees grew so thickly together, and the undergrowth between them was so dense, that to accomplish a march through it of three miles between sunrise and sunset of a single day was regarded as a feat worthy of especial note. Not, however, it must be understood, that these conditions uniformly prevailed; very far from it indeed; for there were days when, from circumstances difficult to account for, the going was so comparatively easy that a distance of ten, or even twelve miles was accomplished. But this did not occur until some time after they had finally lost touch with the river and had got away from the vast plains on to higher ground, where the forest was less dense, the undergrowth much thinner—becoming in some places altogether non-existent—and where open glades became increasingly frequent and of ever extending area.

Thus far the travellers had met with no very remarkable experiences. There is nothing exciting in the work of hewing a path for oneself through miles of tough, tangled undergrowth, or in toiling thirstily hour after hour in sweltering heat, wondering meanwhile how much longer it will be before the welcome sound of trickling water will reach one’s ears; even crouching in concealment for hours at a stretch, rifle in hand, in the hope that something eatable will come within shot, soon grows monotonous; while, as for the multitudinous nocturnal sounds of the forest, so weird and thrilling when first heard, the party soon became accustomed to them, and slept soundly through them all.

But, naturally, in the course of a long journey through the unexplored wilds of South America, interesting incidents are by no means uncommon, while others of a more weird and thrilling character occur occasionally, as our friends were to learn in due time. It was, however, one of the merely interesting kind that awaited them in an open glade which they entered on a certain evening, after a long and toilsome journey, just as the sun’s last rays were gilding the tree-tops on the eastern side of the clearing.

The weary, sweat-drenched travellers celebrated their arrival in this wide open space with shouts of joy, for a tiny streamlet meandered through the middle of it, while in other respects it was ideal, not only as a camping place for the coming night, but also as a spot upon which to halt and recuperate for a few days—a relaxation which they had been promising themselves during the past fortnight. It was the bone-weary Indian carriers who were loudest in the expression of their rejoicing as they stumbled through the tangled grass toward the margin of the tiny stream, upon the bank of which their camp would be pitched; and as they gladly flung down their burdens on the chosen spot, they emitted a final yell of satisfaction which, to the astonishment of all, was answered, from some distance on the opposite side of the stream, by a wailing cry, as of some person—or, more probably, some creature—in extreme anguish. The cry was so peculiar, so expressive of suffering, so piercing, yet at the same time so feeble, that it instantly arrested the attention of everybody, and all stood staring tensely in the direction from which it had come.

“Hillo!” exclaimed Dick, who was the first to find his voice after the first moment of surprise had passed. “What on earth does that mean?”

“Don’t know,” answered Earle, who was glancing about him in search of a favourable spot upon which to pitch the tent; “but we’ll soon find out. Pitch the tent anywhere you like, Peter, so long as it is not too close to the water. Where you are standing now will do quite well. Come on, Dick, and bring your rifle with you. It was somewhere over in that direction.”

The pair took the brook at a bound, and, despite their fatigue, set off at a run in the direction from which the sound had proceeded. As they went, the peculiar sound—half whine, half scream—pealed out again upon the still air, thus guiding them afresh, so that in the course of a couple of minutes they reached its source.

And this was what they saw.

A young black panther—a somewhat rare animal—about three-parts grown, lying stretched out upon its left side in the long grass, apparently in a dying condition. There was a broad trail in the grass leading from the spot where it lay toward the far edge of the timber; but the trail was short, not more than a few yards long, growing less and less distinct as it receded, showing that the miserable creature had been in the clearing for several days, dragging itself slowly, and doubtless with infinite suffering, toward the water, which it had thus far failed to reach. Its coal-black coat, “watered” with the characteristic markings of the panther, also in black, was dull and staring, the result of neglect, and probably also of suffering; its tongue, dry and parched, lolled out of its open jaws, which were lightly fringed with froth; and its half-closed eyes were glassy yet burning with fever. It was in the last stage of emaciation, its ribs and backbone showing clearly beneath its skin.

“Poor brute!” ejaculated Dick, whose sympathies were easily aroused. “It’s evidently dying, and in great pain, too. Better put it out of its misery, hadn’t we?” And he raised his rifle suggestively.

“Not on your life,” interposed Earle, hastily. “Yes, the poor beast is pretty well pegged out; but I guess we can save him, with care and a little trouble. He’s dying of hunger and thirst, that’s what is the matter with him, and that”—pointing to the creature’s enormously swollen right forepaw—“is what has brought on all the trouble. An exaggerated case of abscess, rendering it impossible for the beast to hunt, or, finally, even to walk. But I guess I can fix him all right, so far as the abscess is concerned, after which we will see if we can’t pull him round and tame him. I’m very fond of animals, and I guess he would make a fine pet, and look mighty picturesque basking on one’s hearthrug winter nights. You stay here, and I’ll bring along a hammock and a couple of ‘boys’ to tote him over to the camp. I shall be better able to see what I am doing there than here. You stay and keep the poor chap company. I believe he knows that we sympathise with him.” With which whimsical remark Earle started back hot foot for the camp, now in process of being pitched, leaving Dick to keep the dying beast company.

Now, whimsical as that idea of Earle’s might at first seem, Dick came to the conclusion that there really might be something in it; for not only did the unhappy panther show no fear of his visitors or anger at their close proximity, but there was a certain pitiful expression in his fevered eyes that, to Cavendish’s imagination at least, seemed to appeal for compassion and help. Of course, it may have been that the creature was too near dissolution to feel either anger or fear; but Dick decided that that remained to be seen. He eagerly awaited the return of Earle, and was unfeignedly relieved when, after a somewhat lengthy interval, he saw his friend returning, accompanied by two Indians bearing a lighted lantern and a hammock arranged as a stretcher.

Rejoining Dick, Earle at once got to work, displaying a quiet activity and sureness of himself that at once excited the young Englishman’s amazement and admiration. Bidding the Indians to stand back a few paces, and taking the lighted lantern from them, the American deposited a mahogany case upon the ground, which, upon being opened, proved to contain a complete surgical outfit. Withdrawing from this a sponge and a bottle, he rapidly saturated the former with the contents of the latter, and then, stepping fearlessly up to the suffering beast, he applied the sponge to its nostrils, holding it there for a short time until the creature’s eyes closed and it seemed to lapse into unconsciousness. Then, beckoning the natives to approach with the stretcher, he and Dick, with the help of the Indians, lifted the now inanimate body of the panther and deposited it upon the stretcher, which he then ordered the Indians carefully to convey to the camp, Dick leading the way with the lantern while the American paused a moment to replace the bottle and sponge and close the case. But he overtook the little procession before it was half way to the camp, and hurried on to complete his preparations for the operation which he contemplated. These preparations were complete by the time that the stretcher-bearers reached the camp, and the moment that the Indians laid down their burden, Earle handed Dick the sponge, with instructions to hold it with a gentle pressure against the panther’s mouth and nostrils. This done, the American seized a lancet, and, lifting the swollen paw, made a quick, long incision in it, upon which an amazing quantity of exceedingly offensive matter spurted out. With deft manipulations of the member, the American quickly pressed all the matter out of it, after which he carefully washed out the cavity with warm water, treated it with an antiseptic, stitched up the wound, dressed it, and finally bound it up tightly with a bandage enclosing a thick pad of cotton wool.

“There!” he exclaimed, with a sigh of satisfaction, as he completed the operation, “I guess that is fixed all right, and when the poor beast comes round, he won’t know himself, he will feel so easy and comfortable. That will do with the sponge, Dick. Now, while I clean my lancet and put matters generally straight, will you be good enough to see that the beast has water and food placed handy, so that he can get it without troubling to move? Thanks. Then we will get our supper. Food and drink, and a good long sleep, ought to work wonders for our patient, and we shall see how he shapes to-morrow. If he feels very chipper, he may decide to give us the slip during the night; but somehow I don’t think he will.”