_ CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. WET DUST IN THE EYE
It was the precursor of a terrible tropic tempest, with bluish lightning that was blinding, while the roar of heaven's artillery was incessant. But not a man blenched as the rowers bent to their oars, gladdened by the feeling that the current was with them, as they sent the boat rapidly along for their last halting-place. But a mile had hardly been covered when, with a wild shriek and roar, down came the rain, not in showers or in drops, but in sheets so heavy that before a minute had elapsed every one was drenched, and soon after two of the men had to begin to bale.
To proceed was impossible, and braving the risk, the boat was rowed beneath the overhanging branches of one of the monarchs of the primeval forest which reached its limbs far out over the stream, and there, somewhat protected, the boat was moored. For quite a couple of hours the little party crouched in the bottom, aiding the shelter by spreading the sail over the awning, the men holding on to keep the canvas from being swept off by the howling gale, while the rain poured off in buckets-full, as the men said.
Then a new danger attacked them. The stream swelled and swelled till the boat rose feet higher and was forced in among the low-hanging branches, while the great risk now was that they might be swept out and along the furious torrent into which the sluggish river had been turned.
But just as it seemed impossible to hold on any longer, and when the forest on either side had become river too, the rain ceased as suddenly as it had begun, the wind dropped, and the clouds began to pass away, while in less than an hour the sun was shining brightly down, and huge clouds of steam floated over the flooded land.
It was impossible to cast off from their mooring, for every man agreed that to follow the course of the rushing water would mean that they would be swept away from the river and in all probability be capsized before they had gone many hundred yards.
There was nothing for it, then, but to bale hard and free the boat from water, wring out and try to dry their saturated garments, and do what they could in the way of drying the sail and awning, in the hope that the flood would soon pass away.
Fortunately Cross was soon able to announce that the water was sinking, and this continued so rapidly that before many hours had passed they were able to put off once more into the stream, which had pretty well returned to the limits of its banks; and the drying of their clothes and of such stores as had suffered followed in rapid course.
But it was a disheartening commencement of their journey back to the main river, and darkness fell upon a desolate and terribly depressed company, who passed the night of solitude and despair wondering what had happened at the anchorage where the brig had been left careened.
Rodd had tried to whisper comfort to his comrade, but only to be met with imploring words, the lad begging to be allowed to sit and think; and Rodd respected his prayer.
No better fortune attended him with Uncle Paul, who sternly bade him be silent.
"I too must think, my lad," he said--"and pray."
The silence was shared by the sailors, who only indulged in a whisper now and then.
And how the rest of that night passed away Rodd hardly knew. Of one thing only was he quite certain, and that was that sleep never visited the occupants of that boat.
Daylight at last, when such provisions as were absolutely necessary were partaken of as the boat went steadily down-stream, for there was water enough in the river still to have completely changed its sluggish character, while this was hailed by the men with delight, seeing that it helped their course, while wherever the wind was available the sail was hoisted and they sped along, every one keeping a sharp look-out for their last bivouac but one, it having been decided amongst them that they must have been swept by that one, which was hidden by the swollen stream.
But in spite of the keen observation of the sailors and the sharp look-out by the doctor and the two lads, that day passed without the familiar sandy embayment among the trees being sighted, and before long it became a certainty that they were gliding along a different channel to any they had passed before.
The flood might have altered the stream to a certain extent, but they passed banks that were certainly different, and just at dusk when a brisk breeze was blowing they glided through an opening among the trees which did not seem familiar, and the question arose, should they turn back?
But before it was settled, darkness fell, and another dismal night was passed.
The next day broke bright and fine, and encouraged thereby, every man was keenly on the alert to try and sight one of the Spaniard's halting-places; but it was long before such an opening was found, and then when it was hailed with delight as their resting-place at the end of that day's work, it was forced upon them that they had never been there before.
Fortunately, though their stores were diminished in quantity, fish were plentiful, and every now and then a bird fell to Rodd's or the doctor's gun, for it was felt to be a necessity, as more and more all realised that they were involved in a perfect labyrinth or network of watery ways, and that their stores should be supplemented. For opening after opening in the great walls of verdure kept presenting itself, nearly always involving the party in a dispute as to whether they had been there before, till their mental confusion became greater, their ideas more sadly confused, and the tract of low-lying water-netted country, far from seeming the paradise through which they had glided on their way up, now seemed the dwelling-place of despair.
"Isn't there one of you who can guide us aright?" cried the doctor despairingly. "Is it possible that what seemed so easy to that treacherous Spanish wretch should prove such a horrible problem to us all?"
For a time no one spoke, the men hanging their heads, and by way of showing their earnestness tugging harder at their oars. But at the next appeal Joe Cross was egged on to make some answer.
"You see, sir," he said, "there isn't anything we wouldn't do for you. The lads here are sharp enough, but they wants a handle to work them. We are only sailors, used to having an officer over us, and without him we aren't much account."
"Oh," groaned the doctor to Rodd, "and I cannot direct them! Rodd, boy, my brain feels as if it were giving way."
"Don't be down-hearted, sir. Don't chuck up your pluck, young gentlemen," continued the poor fellow earnestly. "We must get out at last. It all seemed so easy as we come up; but without that Spanish chap, and now that it seems to be all turned upside down like, as we are coming back'ards, it's like looking for a needle in a bottle of hay. You see, me and my messmates have turned it all over in our heads, and it always comes to this, that that storm either made us take a wrong turning, or else that that Spaniard took us into a tangle of watercourses out of which no one but him and them niggers could find the way."
"Yes, yes," said the doctor; "we were thoroughly trapped into what has proved to be a horrible maze."
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Joe. "And amazing it is; but we are not going to give up, sir. Wish we may all die if we do; for you see, it must all come right at last. We have a lot of provisions, plenty of powder and shot; we can't fail for fresh water, which is a great thing for sailors; there's wood enough to make fires for five hundred years; and as for good fish to eat, why, you could almost catch them with your hands."
"No, my men," said the doctor, more firmly, "we are not going to despair, for if we keep going down-stream we must reach the main river at last."
"That's what I keep thinking, uncle," cried Rodd; "but every time we turn out of one of these rivers we seem to get into another, and I want to know why it is that we have never yet come upon a sandy patch where we made a fire."
Embayments of this kind they found again and again during the next few days of their, so to speak, imprisonment in this labyrinth, and in which they were fain to halt for food and sleep; but whether the flood had obliterated all signs of their occupation, or whether the places were absolutely fresh, they never knew.
One thing was determined on, and that to keep on with dogged British obstinacy till the problem was solved, and after losing count of the days that they had spent in the forest, and after vain usage of the compass, which had only seemed to lead them more and more astray, they had their reward one noon, when the boat was run up on to the sand of a forest nook which seemed strikingly familiar, and Rodd and Morny both sprang out, gun in hand, followed by Joe Cross, who excitedly cried--
"All right, gentlemen! Here we are at last! I'd just swear to this tree and that other big one right across the river."
"Yes," cried the doctor; "this, I am quite certain, is where we set up our tent the night we missed our guide."
"The morning, uncle," cried Rodd. "Yes, boy; I should have said the morning. Look, Morny! You do not speak. Isn't this our last halting-place on our way up?"
The French lad gave his hands a despairing wave in the air.
"Yes," he said; "that's what I feel, sir. Why, we have been all these weary, weary days trying to get back to the river so that we might row away to the brig, and this is the spot from which we started!"
"Well, gentlemen," cried Joe Cross, "I say hooray to that. Yes, this is the place, aren't it, messmates?"
"Yes, yes," came in an excited chorus, for the discovery seemed to have sent a thrill of joy through all the men.
"That's right, messmates," cried Joe. "Then all we have got to do now, gentlemen, is to try and take our bearings right, rub the wet dust out of all our eyes, and make a fresh start."
"The wet dust, Joe!" cried Rodd, with the nearest approach to a smile which had appeared upon his face for many days. "Here, uncle, get out the compass, and let's see what we can do with that."
"No," said the doctor quietly. "We must make a fresh start, but it must be calmly and well, and after food and a good night's rest. Collect wood, my lads, to make a fire. Boys, take your guns and go up-stream a little higher where we have never been before, and shoot what birds you can. Two or three of you men do what you can from the shore with the fishing-lines. To-morrow morning we will start calmly and trustingly to the river once again. Be of good heart, Morny, my lad, for the end of our awful struggle must be coming near, and every one of us must do all he can to help his brother for the one great end."
A cheer rose at the doctor's words, and the change in the whole party was wonderful.
All worked with such energy that long before darkness set in the tent was rigged up for the night, a good meal had been prepared, and almost as full of hope as on the night when they had last encamped there for their rest, a couple of hours were pleasantly passed before the fire was once more made up and the watch set. Very soon afterwards all were plunged in a deep and restful sleep, one from which Rodd and Morny were startled by a terrific clap of thunder. Then the interior of their tent was lit up by a vivid blue flash of lightning, by which they saw the watch--Joe Cross and one of the sailors leaning over them, the former saying--
"There's going to be an awful--"
"Storm," he would have said, but his words were drowned by another crash which came instantly upon a sheet of lightning, and pretty well stunned them with its roar. _