In Search of El Dorado. Harry Collingwood
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