第 十七 章 · AN ATTACK
. AN ATTACK
However, if Manoel, to avoid giving rise to a violent scene on
board, said nothing on the subject of Torres, he resolved to have an
explanation with Benito.
“Benito,” he began, after taking him to the bow of the jangada, “I have
something to say to you.”
Benito, generally so good-humored, stopped as he looked at Manoel, and a
cloud came over his countenance.
“I know why,” he said; “it is about Torres.”
“Yes, Benito.”
“And I also wish to speak to you.”
“You have then noticed his attention to Minha?” said Manoel, turning
pale.
“Ah! It is not a feeling of jealousy, though, that exasperates you
against such a man?” said Benito quickly.
“No!” replied Manoel. “Decidedly not! Heaven forbid I should do such an
injury to the girl who is to become my wife. No, Benito! She holds the
adventurer in horror! I am not thinking anything of that sort; but it
distresses me to see this adventurer constantly obtruding himself by
his presence and conversation on your mother and sister, and seeking to
introduce himself into that intimacy with your family which is already
mine.”
“Manoel,” gravely answered Benito, “I share your aversion for this
dubious individual, and had I consulted my feelings I would already have
driven Torres off the raft! But I dare not!”
“You dare not?” said Manoel, seizing the hand of his friend. “You dare
not?”
“Listen to me, Manoel,” continued Benito. “You have observed Torres
well, have you not? You have remarked his attentions to my sister!
Nothing can be truer! But while you have been noticing that, have you
not seen that this annoying man never keeps his eyes off my father, no
matter if he is near to him or far from him, and that he seems to have
some spiteful secret intention in watching him with such unaccountable
persistency?”
“What are you talking about, Benito? Have you any reason to think that
Torres bears some grudge against Joam Garral?”
“No! I think nothing!” replied Benito; “it is only a presentiment! But
look well at Torres, study his face with care, and you will see what an
evil grin he has whenever my father comes into his sight.”
“Well, then,” exclaimed Manoel, “if it is so, Benito, the more reason
for clearing him out!”
“More reason--or less reason,” replied Benito. “Manoel, I fear--what? I
know not--but to force my father to get rid of Torres would perhaps be
imprudent! I repeat it, I am afraid, though no positive fact enables me
to explain my fear to myself!”
And Benito seemed to shudder with anger as he said these words.
“Then,” said Manoel, “you think we had better wait?”
“Yes; wait, before doing anything, but above all things let us be on our
guard!”
“After all,” answered Manoel, “in twenty days we shall be at Manaos.
There Torres must stop. There he will leave us, and we shall be relieved
of his presence for good! Till then we must keep our eyes on him!”
“You understand me, Manoel?” asked Benito.
“I understand you, my friend, my brother!” replied Manoel, “although I
do not share, and cannot share, your fears! What connection can possibly
exist between your father and this adventurer? Evidently your father has
never seen him!”
“I do not say that my father knows Torres,” said Benito; “but assuredly
it seems to me that Torres knows my father. What was the fellow doing
in the neighborhood of the fazenda when we met him in the forest of
Iquitos? Why did he then refuse the hospitality which we offered, so as
to afterward manage to force himself on us as our traveling companion?
We arrive at Tabatinga, and there he is as if he was waiting for us! The
probability is that these meetings were in pursuance of a preconceived
plan. When I see the shifty, dogged look of Torres, all this crowds
on my mind. I do not know! I am losing myself in things that defy
explanation! Oh! why did I ever think of offering to take him on board
this raft?”
“Be calm, Benito, I pray you!”
“Manoel!” continued Benito, who seemed to be powerless to contain
himself, “think you that if it only concerned me--this man who inspires
us all with such aversion and disgust--I should not hesitate to throw
him overboard! But when it concerns my father, I fear lest in giving way
to my impressions I may be injuring my object! Something tells me that
with this scheming fellow there may be danger in doing anything until he
has given us the right--the right and the duty--to do it. In short, on
the jangada, he is in our power, and if we both keep good watch over my
father, we can spoil his game, no matter how sure it may be, and force
him to unmask and betray himself! Then wait a little longer!”
The arrival of Torres in the bow of the raft broke off the conversation.
Torres looked slyly at the two young men, but said not a word.
Benito was not deceived when he said that the adventurer’s eyes were
never off Joam Garral as long as he fancied he was unobserved.
No! he was not deceived when he said that Torres’ face grew evil when he
looked at his father!
By what mysterious bond could these two men--one nobleness itself, that
was self-evident--be connected with each other?
Such being the state of affairs it was certainly difficult for Torres,
constantly watched as he was by the two young men, by Fragoso and
Lina, to make a single movement without having instantly to repress it.
Perhaps he understood the position. If he did, he did not show it, for
his manner changed not in the least.
Satisfied with their mutual explanation, Manoel and Benito promised to
keep him in sight without doing anything to awaken his suspicions.
During the following days the jangada passed on the right the mouths of
the rivers Camara, Aru, and Yuripari, whose waters instead of flowing
into the Amazon run off to the south to feed the Rio des Purus, and
return by it into the main river. At five o’clock on the evening of the
10th of August they put into the island of Cocos.
They there passed a _“seringal.”_ This name is applied to a caoutchouc
plantation, the caoutchouc being extracted from the _“seringueira”_
tree, whose scientific name is _siphonia elastica._
It is said that, by negligence or bad management, the number of these
trees is decreasing in the basin of the Amazon, but the forests of
seringueira trees are still very considerable on the banks of the
Madeira, Purus, and other tributaries.
There were here some twenty Indians collecting and working the
caoutchouc, an operation which principally takes place during the months
of May, June, and July.
After having ascertained that the trees, well prepared by the river
floods which have bathed their stems to a height of about four feet, are
in good condition for the harvest, the Indians are set to work.
Incisions are made into the alburnum of the seringueiras; below the
wound small pots are attached, which twenty-four hours suffice to fill
with a milky sap. It can also be collected by means of a hollow bamboo,
and a receptacle placed on the ground at the foot of the tree.
The sap being obtained, the Indians, to prevent the separation of its
peculiar resins, fumigate it over a fire of the nuts of the assai palm.
By spreading out the sap on a wooden scoop, and shaking it in the
smoke, its coagulation is almost immediately obtained; it assumes a
grayish-yellow tinge and solidifies. The layers formed in succession are
detached from the scoop, exposed to the sun, hardened, and assume the
brownish color with which we are familiar. The manufacture is then
complete.
Benito, finding a capital opportunity, bought from the Indians all the
caoutchouc stored in their cabins, which, by the way, are mostly built
on piles. The price he gave them was sufficiently remunerative, and they
were highly satisfied.
Four days later, on the 14th of August, the jangada passed the mouths of
the Purus.
This is another of the large affluents of the Amazon, and seems to
possess a navigable course, even for large ships, of over five hundred
leagues. It rises in the southwest, and measures nearly five thousand
feet across at its junction with the main river. After winding beneath
the shade of ficuses, tahuaris, nipa palms, and cecropias, it enters the
Amazon by five mouths.
Hereabouts Araujo the pilot managed with great ease. The course of the
river was but slightly obstructed with islands, and besides, from one
bank to another its width is about two leagues.
The current, too, took along the jangada more steadily, and on the 18th
of August it stopped at the village of Pasquero to pass the night.
The sun was already low on the horizon, and with the rapidity peculiar
to these low latitudes, was about to set vertically, like an enormous
meteor.
Joam Garral and his wife, Lina, and old Cybele, were in front of the
house.
Torres, after having for an instant turned toward Joam as if he would
speak to him, and prevented perhaps by the arrival of Padre Passanha,
who had come to bid the family good-night, had gone back to his cabin.
The Indians and the negroes were at their quarters along the sides.
Araujo, seated at the bow, was watching the current which extended
straight away in front of him.
Manoel and Benito, with their eyes open, but chatting and smoking
with apparent indifference, walked about the central part of the craft
awaiting the hour of repose.
All at once Manoel stopped Benito with his hand and said:
“What a queer smell! Am I wrong? Do you not notice it?”
“One would say that it was the odor of burning musk!” replied Benito.
“There ought to be some alligators asleep on the neighboring beach!”
“Well, nature has done wisely in allowing them so to betray themselves.”
“Yes,” said Benito, “it is fortunate, for they are sufficiently
formidable creatures!”
Often at the close of the day these saurians love to stretch themselves
on the shore, and install themselves comfortably there to pass the
night. Crouched at the opening of a hole, into which they have crept
back, they sleep with the mouth open, the upper jaw perpendicularly
erect, so as to lie in wait for their prey. To these amphibians it
is but sport to launch themselves in its pursuit, either by swimming
through the waters propelled by their tails or running along the bank
with a speed no man can equal.
It is on these huge beaches that the caymans are born, live, and die,
not without affording extraordinary examples of longevity. Not only can
the old ones, the centenarians, be recognized by the greenish moss which
carpets their carcass and is scattered over their protuberances, but by
their natural ferocity, which increases with age. As Benito said, they
are formidable creatures, and it is fortunate that their attacks can be
guarded against.
Suddenly cries were heard in the bow.
“Caymans! caymans!”
Manoel and Benito came forward and looked.
Three large saurians, from fifteen to twenty feet long, had managed to
clamber on to the platform of the raft.
“Bring the guns! Bring the guns!” shouted Benito, making signs to the
Indians and the blacks to get behind.
“Into the house!” said Manoel; “make haste!”
And in truth, as they could not attack them at once, the best thing they
could do was to get into shelter without delay.
It was done in an instant. The Garral family took refuge in the house,
where the two young men joined them. The Indians and the negroes ran
into their huts and cabins. As they were shutting the door:
“And Minha?” said Manoel.
“She is not there!” replied Lina, who had just run to her mistress’
room.
“Good heavens! where is she?” exclaimed her mother, and they all shouted
at once:
“Himha! Minha!”
No reply.
“There she is, on the bow of the jangada!” said Benito.
“Minha!” shouted Manoel.
The two young men, and Fragoso and Joam Garral, thinking no more of
danger, rushed out of the house, guns in hand.
Scarcely were they outside when two of the alligators made a half turn
and ran toward them.
A dose of buckshot to the head, close to the eye, from Benito, stopped
one of the monsters, who, mortally wounded, writhed in frightful
convulsions and fell on his side.
But the second still lived, and came on, and there was no way of
avoiding him.
The huge alligator tore up to Joam Garral, and after knocking him over
with a sweep of his tail, ran at him with open jaws.
At this moment Torres rushed from the cabin, hatchet in hand, and struck
such a terrific blow that its edge sunk into the jaw of the cayman and
left him defenseless.
Blinded by the blood, the animal flew to the side, and, designedly or
not, fell over and was lost in the stream.
“Minha! Minha!” shouted Manoel in distraction, when he got to the bow of
the jangada.
Suddenly she came into view. She had taken refuge in the cabin of
Araujo, and the cabin had just been upset by a powerful blow from the
third alligator. Minha was flying aft, pursued by the monster, who was
not six feet away from her.
Minha fell.
A second shot from Benito failed to stop the cayman. He only struck the
animal’s carapace, and the scales flew to splinters but the ball did not
penetrate.
Manoel threw himself at the girl to raise her, or to snatch her from
death! A side blow from the animal’s tail knocked him down too.
Minha fainted, and the mouth of the alligator opened to crush her!
And then Fragoso jumped in to the animal, and thrust in a knife to the
very bottom of his throat, at the risk of having his arm snapped off by
the two jaws, had they quickly closed.
Fragoso pulled out his arm in time, but he could not avoid the shock of
the cayman, and was hurled back into the river, whose waters reddened
all around.
“Fragoso! Fragoso!” shrieked Lina, kneeling on the edge of the raft.
A second afterward Fragoso reappeared on the surface of the Amazon--safe
and sound.
But, at the peril of his life he had saved the young girl, who soon came
to. And as all hands were held out to him--Manoel’s, Yaquita’s, Minha’s,
and Lina’s, and he did not know what to say, he ended by squeezing the
hands of the young mulatto.
However, though Fragoso had saved Minha, it was assuredly to the
intervention of Torres that Joam Garral owed his safety.
It was not, therefore, the fazender’s life that the adventurer wanted.
In the face of this fact, so much had to be admitted.
Manoel said this to Benito in an undertone.
“That is true!” replied Benito, embarrassed. “You are right, and in a
sense it is one cruel care the less! Nevertheless, Manoel, my suspicions
still exist! It is not always a man’s worst enemy who wishes him dead!”
Joam Garral walked up to Torres.
“Thank you, Torres!” he said, holding out his hand. The adventurer took
a step or two backward without replying.
“Torres,” continued Joam, “I am sorry that we are arriving at the end of
our voyage, and that in a few days we must part! I owe you----”
“Joam Garral!” answered Torres, “you owe me nothing! Your life is
precious to me above all things! But if you will allow me--I have been
thinking--in place of stopping at Manaos, I will go on to Belem. Will
you take me there?”
Joam Garral replied by an affirmative nod.
In hearing this demand Benito in an unguarded moment was about to
intervene, but Manoel stopped him, and the young man checked himself,
though not without a violent effort.