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Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon
Jules Verne
David Moynihan
10/6/2001
None
Blackmask Online

www.blackmask.com

Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon

PART 1. THE GIANT RAFT

CHAPTER I. A CAPTAIN OF THE WOODS

CHAPTER II. ROBBER AND ROBBED

CHAPTER III. THE GARRAL FAMILY

CHAPTER IV. HESITATION

CHAPTER V. THE AMAZON

CHAPTER VI. A FOREST ON THE GROUND

CHAPTER VII. FOLLOWING A LIANA

CHAPTER VIII. THE JANGADA

CHAPTER IX. THE EVENING OF THE FIFTH OF JUNE

CHAPTER X. FROM IQUITOS TO PEVAS

CHAPTER XI. FROM PEVAS TO THE FRONTIER

CHAPTER XII. FRAGOSO AT WORK

CHAPTER XIII. TORRES

CHAPTER XIV. STILL DESCENDING

CHAPTER XV. THE CONTINUED DESCENT

CHAPTER XVI. EGA

CHAPTER XVII. AN ATTACK

CHAPTER XVIII. THE ARRIVAL DINNER

CHAPTER XIX. ANCIENT HISTORY

CHAPTER XX. BETWEEN THE TWO MEN

PART II. THE CRYPTOGRAM

CHAPTER I. MANAOS

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST MOMENTS

CHAPTER III. RETROSPECTIVE

CHAPTER IV. MORAL PROOFS

CHAPTER V. MATERIAL PROOFS

CHAPTER VI. THE LAST BLOW

CHAPTER VII. RESOLUTIONS

CHAPTER VIII. THE FIRST SEARCH

CHAPTER IX. THE SECOND ATTEMPT

CHAPTER X. A CANNON SHOT

CHAPTER XI. THE CONTENTS OF THE CASE

CHAPTER XII. THE DOCUMENT

CHAPTER XIII. IS IT A MATTER OF FIGURES?

CHAPTER XIV. CHANCE!

CHAPTER XV. THE LAST EFFORTS

CHAPTER XVI. PREPARATIONS

CHAPTER XVII. THE LAST NIGHT

CHAPTER XVIII. FRAGOSO

CHAPTER XIX. THE CRIME OF TIJUCO

CHAPTER XX. THE LOWER AMAZON

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Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon

Jules Verne

PART I. THE GIANT RAFT

CHAPTER I. A CAPTAIN OF THE WOODS

"P h y j s l y d d q f d z x g a s g z z q q e h x g k f n d r x u j
u g I o c y t d x v k s b x h h u y p o h d v y r y m h u h p u y d k
j o x p h e t o z l s l e t n p m v f f o v p d p a j x h y y n o j y
g g a y m e q y n f u q l n m v l y f g s u z m q I z t l b q q y u g
s q e u b v n r c r e d g r u z b l r m x y u h q h p z d r r g c r o
h e p q x u f I v v r p l p h o n t h v d d q f h q s n t z h h h n f
e p m q k y u u e x k t o g z g k y u u m f v I j d q d p z j q s y k
r p l x h x q r y m v k l o h h h o t o z v d k s p p s u v j h d."

THE MAN who held in his hand the document of which this strange
assemblage of letters formed the concluding paragraph remained for
some moments lost in thought.

It contained about a hundred of these lines, with the letters at even
distances, and undivided into words. It seemed to have been written
many years before, and time had already laid his tawny finger on the
sheet of good stout paper which was covered with the hieroglyphics.

On what principle had these letters been arranged? He who held the
paper was alone able to tell. With such cipher language it is as with
the locks of some of our iron safes--in either case the protection is
the same. The combinations which they lead to can be counted by
millions, and no calculator's life would suffice to express them.
Some particular "word" has to be known before the lock of the safe
will act, and some "cipher" is necessary before that cryptogram can
be read.

He who had just reperused the document was but a simple "captain of
the woods." Under the name of "Capitaes do Mato" are known in
Brazil those individuals who are engaged in the recapture of fugitive
slaves. The institution dates from 1722. At that period anti-slavery
ideas had entered the minds of a few philanthropists, and more than a
century had to elapse before the mass of the people grasped and
applied them. That freedom was a right, that the very first of the
natural rights of man was to be free and to belong only to himself,
would seem to be self-evident, and yet thousands of years had to pass
before the glorious thought was generally accepted, and the nations
of the earth had the courage to proclaim it.

In 1852, the year in which our story opens, there were still slaves
in Brazil, and as a natural consequence, captains of the woods to
pursue them. For certain reasons of political economy the hour of
general emancipation had been delayed, but the black had at this date
the right to ransom himself, the children which were born to him were
born free. The day was not far distant when the magnificent country,
into which could be put three-quarters of the continent of Europe,
would no longer count a single slave among its ten millions of
inhabitants.

The occupation of the captains of the woods was doomed, and at the
period we speak of the advantages obtainable from the capture of
fugitives were rapidly diminishing. While, however, the calling
continued sufficiently profitable, the captains of the woods formed a
peculiar class of adventurers, principally composed of freedmen and
deserters--of not very enviable reputation. The slave hunters in fact
belonged to the dregs of society, and we shall not be far wrong in
assuming that the man with the cryptogram was a fitting comrade for
his fellow "capitaes do mato." Torres--for that was his
name--unlike the majority of his companions, was neither half-breed,
Indian, nor negro. He was a white of Brazilian origin, and had
received a better education than befitted his present condition. One
of those unclassed men who are found so frequently in the distant
countries of the New World, at a time when the Brazilian law still
excluded mulattoes and others of mixed blood from certain
employments, it was evident that if such exclusion had affected him,
it had done so on account of his worthless character, and not because
of his birth.

Torres at the present moment was not, however, in Brazil. He had just
passed the frontier, and was wandering in the forests of Peru, from
which issue the waters of the Upper Amazon.

He was a man of about thirty years of age, on whom the fatigues of a
precarious existence seemed, thanks to an exceptional temperament and
an iron constitution, to have had no effect. Of middle height, broad
shoulders, regular features, and decided gait, his face was tanned
with the scorching air of the tropics. He had a thick black beard,
and eyes lost under contracting eyebrows, giving that swift but hard
glance so characteristic of insolent natures. Clothed as backwoodsmen
are generally clothed, not over elaborately, his garments bore
witness to long and roughish wear. On his head, stuck jauntily on one
side, was a leather hat with a large brim. Trousers he had of coarse
wool, which were tucked into the tops of the thick, heavy boots which
formed the most substantial part of his attire, and over all, and
hiding all, was a faded yellowish poncho.

But if Torres was a captain of the woods it was evident that he was
not now employed in that capacity, his means of attack and defense
being obviously insufficient for any one engaged in the pursuit of
the blacks. No firearms--neither gun nor revolver. In his belt only
one of those weapons, more sword than hunting-knife, called a
"manchetta," and in addition he had an "enchada," which is a sort
of hoe, specially employed in the pursuit of the tatous and agoutis
which abound in the forests of the Upper Amazon, where there is
generally little to fear from wild beasts.

On the 4th of May, 1852, it happened, then, that our adventurer was
deeply absorbed in the reading of the document on which his eyes were
fixed, and, accustomed as he was to live in the forests of South
America, he was perfectly indifferent to their splendors. Nothing
could distract his attention; neither the constant cry of the howling
monkeys, which St. Hillaire has graphically compared to the ax of the
woodman as he strikes the branches of the trees, nor the sharp jingle
of the rings of the rattlesnake (not an aggressive reptile, it is
true, but one of the most venomous); neither the bawling voice of the
horned toad, the most hideous of its kind, nor even the solemn and
sonorous croak of the bellowing frog, which, though it cannot equal
the bull in size, can surpass him in noise.

Torres heard nothing of all these sounds, which form, as it were, the
complex voice of the forests of the New World. Reclining at the foot
of a magnificent tree, he did not even admire the lofty boughs of
that "pao ferro," or iron wood, with its somber bark, hard as the
metal which it replaces in the weapon and utensil of the Indian
savage. No. Lost in thought, the captain of the woods turned the
curious paper again and again between his fingers. With the cipher,
of which he had the secret, he assigned to each letter its true
value. He read, he verified the sense of those lines, unintelligible
to all but him, and then he smiled--and a most unpleasant smile it
was.

Then he murmured some phrases in an undertone which none in the
solitude of the Peruvian forests could hear, and which no one, had he
been anywhere else, would have heard.

"Yes," said he, at length, "here are a hundred lines very neatly
written, which, for some one that I know, have an importance that is
undoubted. That somebody is rich. It is a question of life or death
for him, and looked at in every way it will cost him something." And,
scrutinizing the paper with greedy eyes, "At a conto [1] only for
each word of this last sentence it will amount to a considerable sum,
and it is this sentence which fixes the price. It sums up the entire
document. It gives their true names to true personages; but before
trying to understand it I ought to begin by counting the number of
words it contains, and even when this is done its true meaning may be
missed."

In saying this Torres began to count mentally.

"There are fifty-eight words, and that makes fifty-eight contos. With
nothing but that one could live in Brazil, in America, wherever one
wished, and even live without doing anything! And what would it be,
then, if all the words of this document were paid for at the same
price? It would be necessary to count by hundreds of contos. Ah!
there is quite a fortune here for me to realize if I am not the
greatest of duffers!"

It seemed as though the hands of Torres felt the enormous sum, and
were already closing over the rolls of gold. Suddenly his thoughts
took another turn.

"At length," he cried, "I see land; and I do not regret the voyage
which has led me from the coast of the Atlantic to the Upper Amazon.
But this man may quit America and go beyond the seas, and then how
can I touch him? But no! he is there, and if I climb to the top of
this tree I can see the roof under which he lives with his family!"
Then seizing the paper and shaking it with terrible meaning: "Before
to-morrow I will be in his presence; before to-morrow he will know
that his honor and his life are contained in these lines. And when he
wishes to see the cipher which permits him to read them, he--well, he
will pay for it. He will pay, if I wish it, with all his fortune, as
he ought to pay with all his blood! Ah! My worthy comrade, who gave
me this cipher, who told me where I could find his old colleague, and
the name under which he has been hiding himself for so many years,
hardly suspects that he has made my fortune!"

For the last time Torres glanced over the yellow paper, and then,
after carefully folding it, put it away into a little copper box
which he used for a purse. This box was about as big as a cigar case,
and if what was in it was all Torres possessed he would nowhere have
been considered a wealthy man. He had a few of all the coins of the
neighboring States--ten double-condors in gold of the United States
of Colombia, worth about a hundred francs; Brazilian reis, worth
about as much; golden sols of Peru, worth, say, double; some Chilian
escudos, worth fifty francs or more, and some smaller coins; but the
lot would not amount to more than five hundred francs, and Torres
would have been somewhat embarrassed had he been asked how or where
he had got them. One thing was certain, that for some months, after
having suddenly abandoned the trade of the slave hunter, which he
carried on in the province of Para, Torres had ascended the basin of
the Amazon, crossed the Brazilian frontier, and come into Peruvian
territory. To such a man the necessaries of life were but few;
expenses he had none--nothing for his lodging, nothing for his
clothes. The forest provided his food, which in the backwoods cost
him naught. A few reis were enough for his tobacco, which he bought
at the mission stations or in the villages, and for a trifle more he
filled his flask with liquor. With little he could go far.

When he had pushed the paper into the metal box, of which the lid
shut tightly with a snap, Torres, instead of putting it into the
pocket of his under-vest, thought to be extra careful, and placed it
near him in a hollow of a root of the tree beneath which he was
sitting. This proceeding, as it turned out, might have cost him dear.

It was very warm; the air was oppressive. If the church of the
nearest village had possessed a clock, the clock would have struck
two, and, coming with the wind, Torres would have heard it, for it
was not more than a couple of miles off. But he cared not as to time.
Accustomed to regulate his proceedings by the height of the sun,
calculated with more or less accuracy, he could scarcely be supposed
to conduct himself with military precision. He breakfasted or dined
when he pleased or when he could; he slept when and where sleep
overtook him. If his table was not always spread, his bed was always
ready at the foot of some tree in the open forest. And in other
respects Torres was not difficult to please. He had traveled during
most of the morning, and having already eaten a little, he began to
feel the want of a snooze. Two or three hours' rest would, he
thought, put him in a state to continue his road, and so he laid
himself down on the grass as comfortably as he could, and waited for
sleep beneath the ironwood-tree.

Torres was not one of those people who drop off to sleep without
certain preliminaries. HE was in the habit of drinking a drop or two
of strong liquor, and of then smoking a pipe; the spirits, he said,
overexcited the brain, and the tobacco smoke agreeably mingled with
the general haziness of his reverie.

Torres commenced, then, by applying to his lips a flask which he
carried at his side; it contained the liquor generally known under
the name of "chica" in Peru, and more particularly under that of
"caysuma" in the Upper Amazon, to which fermented distillation of
the root of the sweet manioc the captain had added a good dose of
"tafia" or native rum.

When Torres had drunk a little of this mixture he shook the flask,
and discovered, not without regret, that it was nearly empty.

"Must get some more," he said very quietly.

Then taking out a short wooden pipe, he filled it with the coarse and
bitter tobacco of Brazil, of which the leaves belong to that old
"petun" introduced into France by Nicot, to whom we owe the
popularization of the most productive and widespread of the
solanaceae.

This native tobacco had little in common with the fine qualities of
our present manufacturers; but Torres was not more difficult to
please in this matter than in others, and so, having filled his pipe,
he struck a match and applied the flame to a piece of that stick
substance which is the secretion of certain of the hymenoptera, and
is known as "ants' amadou." With the amadou he lighted up, and after
about a dozen whiffs his eyes closed, his pipe escaped from his
fingers, and he fell asleep.

[1] One thousand reis are equal to three francs, and a conto of reis
is worth three thousand francs.

CHAPTER II. ROBBER AND ROBBED

TORRES SLEPT for about half an hour, and then there was a noise among
the trees--a sound of light footsteps, as though some visitor was
walking with naked feet, and taking all the precaution he could lest
he should be heard. To have put himself on guard against any
suspicious approach would have been the first care of our adventurer
had his eyes been open at the time. But he had not then awoke, and
what advanced was able to arrive in his presence, at ten paces from
the tree, without being perceived.

It was not a man at all, it was a "guariba."

?Of all the prehensile-tailed monkeys which haunt the forests of the
Upper Amazon--graceful sahuis, horned sapajous, gray-coated monos,
sagouins which seem to wear a mask on their grimacing faces--the
guariba is without doubt the most eccentric. Of sociable disposition,
and not very savage, differing therein very greatly from the mucura,
who is as ferocious as he is foul, he delights in company, and
generally travels in troops. It was he whose presence had been
signaled from afar by the monotonous concert of voices, so like the
psalm-singing of some church choir. But if nature has not made him
vicious, it is none the less necessary to attack him with caution,
and under any circumstances a sleeping traveler ought not to leave
himself exposed, lest a guariba should surprise him when he is not in
a position to defend himself.

This monkey, which is also known in Brazil as the "barbado," was of
large size. The suppleness and stoutness of his limbs proclaimed him
a powerful creature, as fit to fight on the ground as to leap from
branch to branch at the tops of the giants of the forest.

He advanced then cautiously, and with short steps. He glanced to the
right and to the left, and rapidly swung his tail. To these
representatives of the monkey tribe nature has not been content to
give four hands--she has shown herself more generous, and added a
fifth, for the extremity of their caudal appendage possesses a
perfect power of prehension.

The guariba noiselessly approached, brandishing a study cudgel,
which, wielded by his muscular arm, would have proved a formidable
weapon. For some minutes he had seen the man at the foot of the tree,
but the sleeper did not move, and this doubtless induced him to come
and look at him a little nearer. He came forward then, not without
hesitation, and stopped at last about three paces off.

On his bearded face was pictured a grin, which showed his sharp-edged
teeth, white as ivory, and the cudgel began to move about in a way
that was not very reassuring for the captain of the woods.

Unmistakably the sight of Torres did not inspire the guariba with
friendly thoughts. Had he then particular reasons for wishing evil to
this defenseless specimen of the human race which chance had
delivered over to him? Perhaps! We know how certain animals retain
the memory of the bad treatment they have received, and it is
possible that against backwoodsmen in general he bore some special
grudge.

In fact Indians especially make more fuss about the monkey than any
other kind of game, and, no matter to what species it belongs, follow
its chase with the ardor of Nimrods, not only for the pleasure of
hunting it, but for the pleasure of eating it.

Whatever it was, the guariba did not seen disinclined to change
characters this time, and if he did not quite forget that nature had
made him but a simple herbivore, and longed to devour the captain of
the woods, he seemed at least to have made up his mind to get rid of
one of his natural enemies.

After looking at him for some minutes the guariba began to move round
the tree. He stepped slowly, holding his breath, and getting nearer
and nearer. His attitude was threatening, his countenance ferocious.
Nothing could have seemed easier to him than to have crushed this
motionless man at a single blow, and assuredly at that moment the
life of Torres hung by a thread.

In truth, the guariba stopped a second time close up to the tree,
placed himself at the side, so as to command the head of the sleeper,
and lifted his stick to give the blow.

But if Torres had been imprudent in putting near him in the crevice
of the root the little case which contained his document and his
fortune, it was this imprudence which saved his life.

A sunbeam shooting between the branches just glinted on the case, the
polished metal of which lighted up like a looking-glass. The monkey,
with the frivolity peculiar to his species, instantly had his
attention distracted. His ideas, if such an animal could have ideas,
took another direction. He stopped, caught hold of the case, jumped
back a pace or two, and, raising it to the level of his eyes, looked
at it not without surprise as he moved it about and used it like a
mirror. He was if anything still more astonished when he heard the
rattle of the gold pieces it contained. The music enchanted him. It
was like a rattle in the hands of a child. He carried it to his
mouth, and his teeth grated against the metal, but made no impression
on it.

Doubtless the guariba thought he had found some fruit of a new kind,
a sort of huge almost brilliant all over, and with a kernel playing
freely in its shell. But if he soon discovered his mistake he did not
consider it a reason for throwing the case away; on the contrary, he
grasped it more tightly in his left hand, and dropped the cudgel,
which broke off a dry twig in its fall.

At this noise Torres woke, and with the quickness of those who are
always on the watch, with whom there is no transition from the
sleeping to the waking state, was immediately on his legs.

In an instant Torres had recognized with whom he had to deal.

"A guariba!" he cried.

And his hand seizing his manchetta, he put himself into a posture of
defense.

The monkey, alarmed, jumped back at once, and not so brave before a
waking man as a sleeping one, performed a rapid caper, and glided
under the trees.

"It was time!" said Torres; "the rogue would have settled me without
any ceremony!"

Of a sudden, between the hands of the monkey, who had stopped at
about twenty paces, and was watching him with violent grimaces, as if
he would like to snap his fingers at him, he caught sight of his
precious case.

"The beggar!" he said. "If he has not killed me, he has done what is
almost as bad. He has robbed me!"

The thought that the case held his money was not however, what then
concerned him. But that which made him jump was the recollection that
it contained the precious document, the loss of which was
irreparable, as it carried with it that of all his hopes.

"Botheration!" said he.

And at the moment, cost what it might to recapture his case, Torres
threw himself in pursuit of the guariba.

He knew that to reach such an active animal was not easy. On the
ground he could get away too fast, in the branches he could get away
too far. A well-aimed gunshot could alone stop him as he ran or
climbed, but Torres possessed no firearm. His sword-knife and hoe
were useless unless he could get near enough to hit him.

It soon became evident that the monkey could not be reached unless by
surprise. Hence Torres found it necessary to employ cunning in
dealing with the mischievous animal. To stop, to hide himself behind
some tree trunk, to disappear under a bush, might induce the guariba
to pull up and retrace his steps, and there was nothing else for
Torres to try. This was what he did, and the pursuit commenced under
these conditions; but when the captain of the woods disappeared, the
monkey patiently waited until he came into sight again, and at this
game Torres fatigued himself without result.

"Confound the guariba!" he shouted at length. "There will be no end
to this, and he will lead me back to the Brazilian frontier. If only
he would let go of my case! But no! The jingling of the money amuses
him. Oh, you thief! If I could only get hold of you!"

And Torres recommenced the pursuit, and the monkey scuttled off with
renewed vigor.

An hour passed in this way without any result. Torres showed a
persistency which was quite natural. How without this document could
he get his money?

And then anger seized him. He swore, he stamped, he threatened the
guariba. That annoying animal only responded by a chuckling which was
enough to put him beside himself.

And then Torres gave himself up to the chase. He ran at top speed,
entangling himself in the high undergrowth, among those thick
brambles and interlacing creepers, across which the guariba passed
like a steeplechaser. Big roots hidden beneath the grass lay often in
the way. He stumbled over them and again started in pursuit. At
length, to his astonishment, he found himself shouting:

"Come here! come here! you robber!" as if he could make him
understand him.

His strength gave out, breath failed him, and he was obliged to stop.
"Confound it!" said he, "when I am after runaway slaves across the
jungle they never give me such trouble as this! But I will have you,
you wretched monkey! I will go, yes, I will go as far as my legs will
carry me, and we shall see!"

The guariba had remained motionless when he saw that the adventurer
had ceased to pursue him. He rested also, for he had nearly reached
that degree of exhaustion which had forbidden all movement on the
part of Torres.

He remained like this during ten minutes, nibbling away at two or
three roots, which he picked off the ground, and from time to time he
rattled the case at his ear.

Torres, driven to distraction, picked up the stones within his reach,
and threw them at him, but did no harm at such a distance.

But he hesitated to make a fresh start. On one hand, to keep on in
chase of the monkey with so little chance of reaching him was
madness. On the other, to accept as definite this accidental
interruption to all his plans, to be not only conquered, but cheated
and hoaxed by a dumb animal, was maddening. And in the meantime
Torres had begun to think that when the night came the robber would
disappear without trouble, and he, the robbed one, would find a
difficulty in retracing his way through the dense forest. In fact,
the pursuit had taken him many miles from the bank of the river, and
he would even now find it difficult to return to it.

Torres hesitated; he tried to resume his thoughts with coolness, and
finally, after giving vent to a last imprecation, he was about to
abandon all idea of regaining possession of his case, when once more,
in spite of himself, there flashed across him the thought of his
document, the remembrance of all that scaffolding on which his future
hopes depended, on which he had counted so much; and he resolved to
make another effort.

Then he got up.

The guariba got up too.

He made several steps in advance.

The monkey made as many in the rear, but this time, instead of
plunging more deeply into the forest, he stopped at the foot of an
enormous ficus--the tree of which the different kinds are so numerous
all over the Upper Amazon basin.

To seize the trunk with his four hands, to climb with the agility of
a clown who is acting the monkey, to hook on with his prehensile tail
to the first branches, which stretched away horizontally at forty
feet from the ground, and to hoist himself to the top of the tree, to
the point where the higher branches just bent beneath its weight, was
only sport to the active guariba, and the work of but a few seconds.

Up there, installed at his ease, he resumed his interrupted repast,
and gathered the fruits which were within his reach. Torres, like
him, was much in want of something to eat and drink, but it was
impossible! His pouch was flat, his flask was empty.

However, instead of retracing his steps he directed them toward the
tree, although the position taken up by the monkey was still more
unfavorable for him. He could not dream for one instant of climbing
the ficus, which the thief would have quickly abandoned for another.

And all the time the miserable case rattled at his ear.

Then in his fury, in his folly, Torres apostrophized the guariba. It
would be impossible for us to tell the series of invectives in which
he indulged. Not only did he call him a half-breed, which is the
greatest of insults in the mouth of a Brazilian of white descent, but
"curiboca"--that is to say, half-breed negro and Indian, and of all
the insults that one man can hurl at another in this equatorial
latitude "curiboca" is the cruelest.

But the monkey, who was only a humble quadruman, was simply amused at
what would have revolted a representative of humanity.

Then Torres began to throw stones at him again, and bits of roots and
everything he could get hold of that would do for a missile. Had he
the hope to seriously hurt the monkey? No! he no longer knew what he
was about. To tell the truth, anger at his powerlessness had deprived
him of his wits. Perhaps he hoped that in one of the movements which
the guariba would make in passing from branch ot branch the case
might escape him, perhaps he thought that if he continued to worry
the monkey he might throw it at his head. But no! the monkey did not
part with the case, and, holding it with one hand, he had still three
left with which to move.

Torres, in despair, was just about to abandon the chase for good, and
to return toward the Amazon, when he heard the sound of voices. Yes!
the sound of human voices.

Those were speaking at about twenty paces to the right of him.

The first care of Torres was to hide himself in a dense thicket. Like
a prudent man, he did not wish to show himself without at least
knowing with whom he might have to deal. Panting, puzzled, his ears
on the stretch, he waited, when suddenly the sharp report of a gun
rang through the woods.

A cry followed, and the monkey, mortally wounded, fell heavily on the
ground, still holding Torres' case.

"By Jove!" he muttered, "that bullet came at the right time!"

And then, without fearing to be seen, he came out of the thicket, and
two young gentlemen appeared from under the trees.

They were Brazilians clothed as hunters, with leather boots, light
palm-leaf hats, waistcoats, or rather tunics, buckled in at the
waist, and more convenient than the national poncho. By their
features and their complexion they were at once recognizable as of
Portuguese descent.

Each of them was armed with one of those long guns of Spanish make
which slightly remind us of the arms of the Arabs, guns of long range
and considerable precision, which the dwellers in the forest of the
upper Amazon handle with success.

What had just happened was a proof of this. At an angular distance of
more than eighty paces the quadruman had been shot full in the head.

The two young men carried in addition, in their belts, a sort of
dagger-knife, which is known in Brazil as a "foca," and which
hunters do not hesitate to use when attacking the ounce and other
wild animals which, if not very formidable, are pretty numerous in
these forests.

Torres had obviously little to fear from this meeting, and so he went
on running toward the monkey's corpse.

But the young men, who were taking the same direction, had less
ground to cover, and coming forward a few paces, found themselves
face to face with Torres.

The latter had recovered his presence of mind.

"Many thanks, gentlemen," said he gayly, as he raised the brim of his
hat; "in killing this wretched animal you have just done me a great
service!"

The hunters looked at him inquiringly, not knowing what value to
attach to his thanks.

Torres explained matters in a few words.

"You thought you had killed a monkey," said he, "but as it happens
you have killed a thief!"

"If we have been of use to you," said the youngest of the two, "it
was by accident, but we are none the less pleased to find that we
have done some good."

And taking several steps to the rear, he bent over the guariba, and,
not without an effort, withdrew the case from his stiffened hand.

"Doubtless that, sir, is what belongs to you?"

"The very thing," said Torres briskly, catching hold of the case and
failing to repress a huge sigh of relief.

"Whom ought I to thank, gentlemen," said he, "for the service you
have rendered me?"

"My friend, Manoel, assistant surgeon, Brazilian army," replied the
young man.

"If it was I who shot the monkey, Benito," said Manoel, "it was you
that pointed him out to me."

"In that case, sirs," replied Torres, "I am under an obligation to
you both, as well to you, Mr. Manoel, as to you, Mr. ----"

"Benito Garral," replied Manoel.

The captain of the woods required great command over himself to avoid
giving a jump when he heard this name, and more especially when the
young man obligingly continued:

"My father, Joam Garral, has his farm about three miles from here. If
you would like, Mr. ----"

"Torres," replied the adventurer.

"If you would like to accompany us there, Mr. Torres, you will be
hospitably received."

"I do not know that I can," said Torres, who, surprised by this
unexpected meeting, hesitated to make a start. "I fear in truth that
I am not able to accept your offer. The occurrence I have just
related to you has caused me to lose time. It is necessary for me to
return at once to the Amazon--as I purpose descending thence to
Para."

"Very well, Mr. Torres," replied Benito, "it is not unlikely that we
shall see you again in our travels, for before a month has passed my
father and all his family will have taken the same road as you."

"Ah!" said Torres sharply, "your father is thinking of recrossing the
Brazilian frontier?"

"Yes, for a voyage of some months," replied Benito. "At least we hope
to make him decide so. Don't we, Manoel?"

Manoel nodded affirmatively.

"Well, gentlemen," replied Torres, "it is very probable that we shall
meet again on the road. But I cannot, much to my regret, accept your
offer now. I thank you, nevertheless, and I consider myself as twice
your debtor."

And having said so, Torres saluted the young men, who in turn saluted
him, and set out on their way to the farm.

As for Torres he looked after them as they got further and further
away, and when he had lost sight of them--

"Ah! he is about to recross the frontier!" said he, with a deep
voice. "Let him recross it! and he will be still more at my mercy!
Pleasant journey to you, Joam Garral!"

And having uttered these words the captain of the woods, making for
the south so as to regain the left bank of the river by the shortest
road, disappeared into the dense forest.

CHAPTER III. THE GARRAL FAMILY

THE VILLAGE of Iquitos is situated on the left bank of the Amazon,
near the seventy-fourth meridian, on that portion of the great river
which still bears the name of the Mar&acitc;non, and of which the bed
separates Peru from the republic of Ecuador. It is about fifty-five
leagues to the west of the Brazilian frontier.

Iquitos, like every other collection of huts, hamlet, or village met
with in the basin of the Upper Amazon, was founded by the
missionaries. Up to the seventeenth year of the century the Iquito
Indians, who then formed the entire population, were settled in the
interior of the province at some distance from the river. But one day
the springs in their territory all dried up under the influence of a
volcanic eruption, and they were obliged to come and take up their
abode on the left of the Marânon. The race soon altered through the
alliances which were entered into with the riverine Indians, Ticunas,
or Omaguas, mixed descent with a few Spaniards, and to-day Iquitos
has a population of two or three families of half-breeds.

The village is most picturesquely grouped on a kind of esplanade, and
runs along at about sixty feet from the river. It consists of some
forty miserable huts, whose thatched roofs only just render them
worthy of the name of cottages. A stairway made of crossed trunks of
trees leads up to the village, which lies hidden from the traveler's
eyes until the steps have been ascended. Once at the top he finds
himself before an inclosure admitting of slight defense, and
consisting of many different shrubs and arborescent plants, attached
to each other by festoons of lianas, which here and there have made
their way abgove the summits of the graceful palms and banana-trees.

At the time we speak of the Indians of Iquitos went about in almost a
state of nudity. The Spaniards and half-breeds alone were clothed,
and much as they scorned their indigenous fellow-citizens, wore only
a simple shirt, light cotton trousers, and a straw hat. All lived
cheerlessly enough in the village, mixing little together, and if
they did meet occasionally, it was only at such times as the bell of
the mission called them tot he dilapidated cottage which served them
for a church.

But if existence in the village of Iquitos, as in most of the hamlets
of the Upper Amazon, was almost in a rudimentary stage, it was only
necessary to journey a league further down the river to find on the
same bank a wealthy settlement, with all the elements of comfortable
life.

This was the farm of Joam Garral, toward which our two young friends
returned after their meeting with the captain of the woods.

There, on a bend of the stream, at the junction of the River Nanay,
which is here about five hundred feet across, there had been
established for many years this farm, homestead, or, to use the
expression of the country, "fazenda," then in the height of its
prosperity. The Nanay with its left bank bounded it to the north for
about a mile, and for nearly the same distance to the east it ran
along the bank of the larger river. To the west some small rivulets,
tributaries of the Nanay, and some lagoons of small extent, separated
it from the savannah and the fields devoted to the pasturage of the
cattle.

It was here that Joam Garral, in 1826, twenty-six years before the
date when our story opens, was received by the proprietor of the
fazenda.

This Portuguese, whose name was Magalhaës, followed the trade of
timber-felling, and his settlement, then recently formed, extended
for about half a mile along the bank of the river.

There, hospitable as he was, like all the Portuguese of the old race,
Magalhaës lived with his daughter Yaquita, who after the death of her
mother had taken charge of his household. Magalhaës was an excellent
worker, inured to fatigue, but lacking education. If he understood
the management of the few slaves whom he owned, and the dozen Indians
whom he hired, he showed himself much less apt in the various
external requirements of his trade. In truth, the establishment at
Iquitos was not prospering, and the affairs of the Portuguese were
getting somewhat embarrassed.

It was under these circumstances that Joam Garral, then twenty-two
years old, found himself one day in the presence of Magalhaës. He had
arrived in the country at the limit both of his strength and his
resources. Magalhaës had found him half-dead with hunger and fatigue
in the neighboring forest. The Portuguese had an excellent heart; he
did not ask the unknown where he came from, but what he wanted. The
noble, high-spirited look which Joam Garral bore in spite of his
exhaustion had touched him. He received him, restored him, and, for
several days to begin with, offered him a hospitality which lasted
for his life.

Under such conditions it was that Joam Garral was introduced to the
farm at Iquitos.

Brazilian by birth, Joam Garral was without family or fortune.
Trouble, he said, had obliged him to quit his country and abandon all
thoughts of return. He asked his host to excuse his entering on his
past misfortunes--misfortunes as serious as they were unmerited. What
he sought, and what he wished, was a new life, a life of labor. He
had started on his travels with some slight thought of entering a
fazenda in the interior. He was educated, intelligent. He had in all
his bearing that inexpressible something which tells you that the man
is genuine and of frank and upright character. Magalhaës, quite taken
with him, asked him to remain at the farm, where he would, in a
measure, supply that which was wanting in the worthy farmer.

Joam Garral accepted the offer without hesitation. His intention had
been to join a "seringal," or caoutchouc concern, in which in those
days a good workman could earn from five to six piastres a day, and
could hope to become a master if he had any luck; but Magalhaës very
truly observed that if the pay was good, work was only found in the
seringals at harvest time--that is to say, during only a few months
of the year--and this would not constitute the permanent position
that a young man ought to wish for.

The Portuguese was right. Joam Garral saw it, and entered resolutely
into the service of the fazenda, deciding to devote to it all his
powers.

Magalhaës had no cause to regret his generous action. His business
recovered. His wood trade, which extended by means of the Amazon up
to Para, was soon considerably extended under the impulse of Joam
Garral. The fazenda began to grow in proportion, and to spread out
along the bank of the river up to its junction with the Nanay. A
delightful residence was made of the house; it was raised a story,
surrounded by a veranda, and half hidden under beautiful
trees--mimosas, fig-sycamores, bauhinias, and paullinias, whose
trunks were invisible beneath a network of scarlet-flowered bromelias
and passion-flowers.

At a distance, behind huge bushes and a dense mass of arborescent
plants, were concealed the buildings in which the staff of the
fazenda were accommodated--the servants' offices, the cabins of the
blacks, and the huts of the Indians. From the bank of the river,
bordered with reeds and aquatic plants, the tree-encircled house was
alone visible.

A vast meadow, laboriously cleared along the lagoons, offered
excellent pasturage. Cattle abounded--a new source of profit in these
fertile countries, where a herd doubles in four years, and where ten
per cent. interest is earned by nothing more than the skins and the
hides of the animals killed for the consumption of those who raise
them! A few "sitios," or manioc and coffee plantations, were
started in parts of the woods which were cleared. Fields of
sugar-canes soon required the construction of a mill to crush the
sacchariferous stalks destined to be used hereafter in the
manufacture of molasses, tafia, and rum. In short, ten years after
the arrival of Joam Garral at the farm at Iquitos the fazenda had
become one of the richest establishments on the Upper Amazon. Thanks
to the good management exercised by the young clerk over the works at
home and the business abroad, its prosperity daily increased.

The Portuguese did not wait so long to acknowledge what he owed to
Joam Garral. In order to recompense him in proportion to his merits
he had from the first given him an interest in the profits of his
business, and four years after his arrival he had made him a partner
on the same footing as himself, and with equal shares.

But there was more that he had in store for him. Yaquita, his
daughter, had, in this silent young man, so gentle to others, so
stern to himself, recognized the sterling qualities which her father
had done. She was in love with him, but though on his side Joam had
not remained insensible to the merits and the beauty of this
excellent girl, he was too proud and reserved to dream of asking her
to marry him.

A serious incident hastened the solution.

Magalhaës was one day superintending a clearance and was mortally
wounded by the fall of a tree. Carried home helpless to the farm, and
feeling himself lost, he raised up Yaquita, who was weeping by his
side, took her hand, and put it into that of Joam Garral, making him
swear to take her for his wife.

"You have made my fortune," he said, "and I shall not die in peace
unless by this union I know that the fortune of my daughter is
assured."

"I can continue her devoted servant, her brother, her protector,
without being her husband," Joam Garral had at first replied. "I owe
you all, Magalhaës. I will never forget it, but the price you would
pay for my endeavors is out of all proportion to what they are
worth."

The old man insisted. Death would not allow him to wait; he demanded
the promise, and it was made to him.

Yaquita was then twenty-two years old, Joam was twenty-six. They
loved each other and they were married some hours before the death of
Magalhaës, who had just strength left to bless their union.

It was under these circumstances that in 1830 Joam Garral became the
new fazender of Iquitos, to the immense satisfaction of all t hose
who composed the staff of the farm.

The prosperity of the settlement could not do otherwise than grow
then these two minds were thus united.

A year after her marriage Yaquita presented her husband with a son,
and, two years after, a daughter. Benito and Minha, the grandchildren
of the old Portuguese, became worthy of their grandfather, children
worthy of Joam and Yaquita.

The daughter grew to be one of the most charming of girls. She never
left the fazenda. Brought up in pure and healthy surroundings, in the
midst of the beauteous nature of the tropics, the education given to
her by her mother, and the instruction received by her from her
father, were ample. What more could she have learned in a convent at
Manaos or Belem? Where would she have found better examples of the
domestic virtues? Would her mind and feelings have been more
delicately formed away from her home? If it was ordained that she was
not to succeed her mother in the management of the fazenda, she was
equal to say any other position to which she might be called.

With Benito it was another thing. His father very wisely wished him
to receive as solid and complete an education as could then be
obtained in the large towns of Brazil. There was nothing which the
rich fazender refused his son. Benito was possessed of a cheerful
disposition, an active mind, a lively intelligence, and qualities of
heart equal to those of his head. At the age of twelve he was sent
into Para, to Belem, and there, under the direction of excellent
professors, he acquired the elements of an education which could not
but eventually make him a distinguished man. Nothing in literature,
in the sciences, in the arts, was a stranger to him. He studied as if
the fortune of his father would not allow him to remain idle. He was
not among such as imagine that riches exempt men from work--he was
one of those noble characters, resolute and just, who believe that
nothing should diminish our natural obligation in this respect if we
wish to be worthy of the name of men.

During the first years of his residence at Belem, Benito had made the
acquaintance of Manoel Valdez. This young man, the son of a merchant
in P:ara, was pursuing his studies in the same institution as Benito.
The conformity of their characters and their tastes proved no barrier
to their uniting in the closest of friendships, and they became
inseparable companions.

Manoel, born in 1832, was one year older than Benito. He had only a
mother, and she lived on the modest fortune which her husband had
left her. When Manoel's preliminary studies were finished, he had
taken up the subject of medicine. He had a passionate taste for that
noble profession, and his intention was to enter the army, toward
which he felt himself attracted.

At the time that we saw him with his friend Benito, Manoel Valdez had
already obtained his first step, and he had come away on leave for
some months to the fazenda, where he was accustomed to pass his
holidays. Well-built, and of distinguished bearing, with a certain
native pride which became him well, the young man was treated by Joam
and Yaquita as another son. But if this quality of son made him the
brother of Benito, the title was scarcely appreciated by him when
Minha was concerned, for he soon became attached to the young girl by
a bond more intimate than could exist between brother and sister.

In the year 1852--of which four months had already passed before the
commencement of this history--Joam Garral attained the age of
forty-eight years. In that sultry cliimate, which wears men away so
quickly, he had known how, by sobriety, self-denial, suitable living,
and constant work, to remain untouched where others had prematurely
succumbed. His hair, which he wore short, and his beard, which was
full, had already grown gray, and gave him the look of a Puritan. The
proverbial honesty of the Brazilian merchants and fazenders showed
itself in his features, of which straightforwardness was the leading
characteristic. His calm temperament seemed to indicate an interior
fire, kept well under control. The fearlessness of his look denoted a
deep-rooted strength, to which, when danger threatened, he could
never appeal in vain.

But, notwithstanding one could not help remarking about this quiet
man of vigorous health, with whom all things had succeeded in life, a
depth of sadness which even the tenderness of Yaquita had not been
able to subdue.

Respected by all, placed in all the conditions that would seem
necessary to happiness, why was not this just man more cheerful and
less reserved? Why did he seem to be happy for others and not for
himself? Was this disposition attributable to some secret grief?
Herein was a constant source of anxiety to his wife.

Yaquita was now forty-four. In that tropical country where women are
already old at thirty she had learned the secret of resisting the
climate's destructive influences, and her features, a little
sharpened but still beautiful, retained the haughty outline of the
Portuguese type, in which nobility of face unites so naturally with
dignity of mind.

Benito and Minha responded with an affection unbounded and unceasing
for the love which their parents bore them.

Benito was now aged twenty-one, and quick, brave, and sympathetic,
contrasted outwardly with his friend Manoel, who was more serious and
reflective. It was a great treat for Benito, after quite a year
passed at Belem, so far from the fazenda, to return with his young
friend to his home to see once more his father, his mother, his
sister, and to find himself, enthusiastic hunter as he was, in the
midst of these superb forests of the Upper Amazon, some of whose
secrets remained after so many centuries still unsolved by man.

Minha was twenty years old. A lovely girl, brunette, and with large
blue eyes, eyes which seemed to open into her very soul; of middle
height, good figure, and winning grace, in every way the very image
of Yaquita. A little more serious than her brother, affable,
good-natured, and charitable, she was beloved by all. On this subject
you could fearlessly interrogate the humblest servants of the
fazenda. It was unnecessary to ask her brother's friend, Manoel
Valdez, what he thought of her. He was too much interested in the
question to have replied without a certain amount of partiality.

This sketch of the Garral family would not be complete, and would
lack some of its features, were we not to mention the numerous staff
of the fazenda.

In the first place, then, it behooves us to name an old negress, of
some sixty years, called Cybele, free through the will of her master,
a slave through her affection for him and his, and who had been the
nurse of Yaquita. She was one of the family. She thee-ed and thou-ed
both daughter and mother. The whole of this good creature's life was
passed in these fields, in the middle of these forests, on that bank
of the river which bounded the horizon of the farm. Coming as a child
to Iquitos in the slave-trading times, she had never quitted the
village; she was married there, and early a widow, had lost her only
son, and remained in the service of Magalhaës. Of the Amazon she knew
no more than what flowed before her eyes.

With her, and more specially attached to the service of Minha, was a
pretty, laughing mulatto, of the same age as her mistress, to whom
she was completely devoted. She was called Lina. One of those gentle
creatures, a little spoiled, perhaps, to whom a good deal of
familiarity is allowed, but who in return adore their mistresses.
Quick, restless, coaxing, and lazy, she could do what she pleased in
the house.

As for servants they were of two kinds--Indians, of whom there were
about a hundred, employed always for the works of the fazenda, and
blacks to about double the number, who were not yet free, but whose
children were not born slaves. Joam Garral had herein preceded the
Brazilian government. In this country, moreover, the negroes coming
from Benguela, the Congo, or the Gold Coast were always treated with
kindness, and it was not at the fazenda of Iquitos that one would
look for those sad examples of cruelty which were so frequent on
foreign plantations.

CHAPTER IV. HESITATION

MANOEL WAS in love with the sister of his friend Benito, and she was
in love with him. Each was sensible of the other's worth, and each
was worthy of the other.

When he was no longer able to mistake the state of his feelings
toward Minha, Manoel had opened his heart to Benito.

"Manoel, my friend," had immediately answered the enthusiastic young
fellow, "you could not do better than wish to marry my sister. Leave
it to me! I will commence by speaking to the mother, and I think I
can promise that you will not have to wait long for her consent."

Half an hour afterward he had done so.

Benito had nothing to tell his mother which she did not know; Yaquita
had already divined the young people's secret.

Before ten minutes had elapsed Benito was in the presence of Minha.
They had but to agree; there was no need for much eloquence. At the
first words the head of the gentle girl was laid on her brother's
shoulder, and the confession, "I am so happy!" was whispered from her
heart.

The answer almost came before the question; that was obvious. Benito
did not ask for more.

There could be little doubt as to Joam Garral's consent. But if
Yaquita and her children did not at once speak to him about the
marriage, it was because they wished at the same time to touch on a
question which might be more difficult to solve. That question was,
Where should the wedding take place?

Where should it be celebrated? In the humble cottage which served for
the village church? Why not? Joam and Yaquita had there received the
nuptial benediction of the Padre Passanha, who was then the curate of
Iquitos parish. At that time, as now, there was no distinction in
Brazil between the civil and religious acts, and the registers of the
mission were sufficient testimony to a ceremony which no officer of
the civil power was intrusted to attend to.

Joam Garral would probably wish the marriage to take place at
Iquitos, with grand ceremonies and the attendance of the whole staff
of the fazenda, but if such was to be his idea he would have to
withstand a vigorous attack concerning it.

"Manoel," Minha said to her betrothed, "if I was consulted in the
matter we should not be married here, but at Para. Madame Valdez is
an invalid; she cannot visit Iquitos, and I should not like to become
her daughter without knowing and being known by her. My mother agrees
with me in thinking so. We should like to persuade my father to take
us to Belem. Do you not think so?"

To this proposition Manoel had replied by pressing Minha's hand. He
also had a great wish for his mother to be present at his marriage.
Benito had approved the scheme without hesitation, and it was only
necessary to persuade Joam Garral. And hence on this day the young
men had gone out hunting in the woods, so as to leave Yaquita alone
with her husband.

In the afternoon these two were in the large room of the house. Joam
Garral, who had just come in, was half-reclining on a couch of
plaited bamboos, when Yaquita, a little anxious, came and seated
herself beside him.

To tell Joam of the feelings which Manoel entertained toward his
daughter was not what troubled her. The happiness of Minha could not
but be assured by the marriage, and Joam would be glad to welcome to
his arms the new son whose sterling qualities he recognized and
appreciated. But to persuade her husband to leave the fazenda Yaquita
felt to be a very serious matter.

In fact, since Joam Garral, then a young man, had arrived in the
country, he had never left it for a day. Though the sight of the
Amazon, with its waters gently flowing to the east, invited him to
follow its course; though Joam every year sent rafts of wood to
Manaos, to Belem, and the seacoast of Para; though he had seen each
year Benito leave after his holidays to return to his studies, yet
the thought seemed never to have occurred to him to go with him.

The products of the farm, of the forest, and of the fields, the
fazender sold on the spot. He had not wish, either with thought or
look, to go beyond the horizon which bounded his Eden.

From this it followed that for twenty-five years Joam Garral had
never crossed the Brazilian frontier, his wife and daughter had never
set foot on Brazilian soil. The longing to see something of that
beautiful country of which Benito was often talking was not wanting,
nevertheless. Two or three times Yaquita had sounded her husband in
the matter. But she had noticed that the thought of leaving the
fazenda, if only for a few weeks, brought an increase of sadness to
his face. His eyes would close, and in a tone of mild reproach he
would answer:

"Why leave our home? Are we not comfortable here?"

And Yaquita, in the presence of the man whose active kindness and
unchangeable tenderness rendered her so happy, had not the courage to
persist.

This time, however, there was a serious reason to make it worth
while. The marriage of Minha afforded an excellent opportunity, it
being so natural for them to accompany her to Belem, where she was
going to live with her husband. She would there see and learn to love
the mother of Manoel Valdez. How could Joam Garral hesitate in the
face of so praiseworthy a desire? Why, on the other hand, did he not
participate in this desire to become acquainted with her who was to
be the second mother of his child?

Yaquita took her husband's hand, and with that gentle voice which had
been to him all the music of his life:

"Joam," she said, "I am going to talk to you about something which we
ardently wish, and which will make you as happy as we are."

"What is it about, Yaquita?" asked Joam.

"Manoel loves your daughter, he is loved by her, and in this union
they will find the happiness----"

At the first words of Yaquita Joam Garral had risen, without being
able to control a sudden start. His eyes were immediately cast down,
and he seemed to designedly avoid the look of his wife.

"What is the matter with you?" asked she.

"Minha? To get married!" murmured Joam.

"My dear," said Yaquita, feeling somewhat hurt, "have you any
objection to make to the marriage? Have you not for some time noticed
the feelings which Manoel has entertained toward our daughter?"

"Yes; and a year since----"

And Joam sat down without finishing his thoughts. By an effort of his
will he had again become master of himself. The unaccountable
impression which had been made upon him disappeared. Gradually his
eyes returned to meet those of Yaquita, and he remained thoughtfully
looking at her.

Yaquita took his hand.

"Joam," she said, "have I been deceived? Had you no idea that this
marriage would one day take place, and that it would give her every
chance of happiness?"

"Yes," answered Joam. "All! Certainly. But, Yaquita, this
wedding--this wedding that we are both thinking of--when is it coming
off? Shortly?"

"It will come off when you choose, Joam."

"And it will take place here--at Iquitos?"

This question obliged Yaquita to enter on the other matter which she
had at heart. She did not do so, however, without some hesitation,
which was quite intelligible.

"Joam," said she, after a moment's silence, "listen to me. Regarding
this wedding, I have got a proposal which I hope you will approve of.
Two or three times during the last twenty years I have asked you to
take me and my daughter to the provinces of the Lower Amazon, and to
Para, where we have never been. The cares of the fazenda, the works
which have required your presence, have not allowed you to grant our
request. To absent yourself even for a few days would then have
injured your business. But now everything has been successful beyond
your dreams, and if the hour of repose has not yet come for you, you
can at least for a few weeks get away from your work."

Joam Garral did not answer, but Yaquita felt his hand tremble in
hers, as though under the shock of some sorrowful recollection. At
the same time a half-smile came to her husband's lips--a mute
invitation for her to finish what she had begun.

"Joam," she continued, "here is an occasion which we shall never see
again in this life. Minha is going to be married away from us, and is
going to leave us! It is the first sorrow which our daughter has
caused us, and my heart quails when I think of the separation which
is so near! But I should be content if I could accompany her to
Belem! Does it not seem right to you, even in other respects that we
should know her husband's mother, who is to replace me, and to whom
we are about to entrust her? Added to this, Minha does not wish to
grieve Madame Valdez by getting married at a distance from her. When
we were married, Joam, if your mother had been alive, would you not
have liked her to be present at your wedding?"

At these words of Yaquita Joam made a movement which he could not
repress.

"My dear," continued Yaquita, "with Minha, with our two sons, Benito
and Manoel, with you, how I should like to see Brazil, and to journey
down this splendid river, even to the provinces on the seacoast
through which it runs! It seems to me that the separation would be so
much less cruel! As we came back we should revisit our daughter in
her house with her second mother. I would not think of her as gone I
knew not where. I would fancy myself much less a stranger to the
doings of her life."

This time Joam had fixed his eyes on his wife and looked at her for
some time without saying anything.

What ailed him? Why this hesitation to grant a request which was so
just in itself--to say "Yes," when it would give such pleasure to all
who belonged to him? His business affairs could not afford a
sufficient reason. A few weeks of absence would not compromise
matters to such a degree. Hi manager would be able to take his place
without any hitch in the fazenda. And yet all this time he hesitated.

Yaquita had taken both her husband's hands in hers, and pressed them
tenderly.

"Joam," she said, "it is not a mere whim that I am asking you to
grant. No! For a long time I have thought over the proposition I have
just made to you; and if you consent, it will be the realization of
my most cherished desire. Our children know why I am now talking to
you. Minha, Benito, Manoel, all ask this favor, that we should
accompany them. We would all rather have the wedding at Belem than at
Iquitos. It will be better for your daughter, for her establishment,
for the position which she will take at Belem, that she should arrive
with her people, and appear less of a stranger in the town in which
she will spend most of her life."

Joam Garral leaned on his elbows. For a moment he hid his face in his
hands, like a man who had to collect his thoughts before he made
answer. There was evidently some hesitation which he was anxious to
overcome, even some trouble which his wife felt but could not
explain. A secret battle was being fought under that thoughtful brow.
Yaquita got anxious, and almost reproached herself for raising the
question. Anyhow, she was resigned to what Joam should decide. If the
expedition would cost too much, she would silence her wishes; she
would never more speak of leaving the fazenda, and never ask the
reason for the inexplicable refusal.

Some minutes passed. Joam Garral rose. He went to the door, and did
not return. Then he seemed to give a last look on that glorious
nature, on that corner of the world where for twenty years of his
life he had met with all his happiness.

Then with slow steps he returned to his wife. His face bore a new
expression, that of a man who had taken a last decision, and with
whom irresolution had ceased.

"You are right," he said, in a firm voice. "The journey is necessary.
When shall we start?"

"Ah! Joam! my Joam!" cried Yaquita, in her joy. "Thank you for me!
Thank you for them!"

And tears of affection came to her eyes as her husband clasped her to
his heart.

At this moment happy voices were heard outside at the door of the
house.

Manoel and Benito appeared an instant after at the threshold, almost
at the same moment as Minha entered the room.

"Children! your father consents!" cried Yaquita. "We are going to
Belem!"

With a grave face, and without speaking a word, Joam Garral received
the congratulations of his son and the kisses of his daughter.

"And what date, father," asked Benito, "have you fixed for the
wedding?"

"Date?" answered Joam. "Date? We shall see. We will fix it at Belem."

"I am so happy! I am so happy!" repeated Minha, as she had done on
the day when she had first known of Manoel's request. "We shall now
see the Amazon in all its glory throughout its course through the
provinces of Brazil! Thanks, father!"

And the young enthusiast, whose imagination was already stirred,
continued to her brother and to Manoel:

"Let us be off to the library! Let us get hold of every book and
every map that we can find which will tell us anything about this
magnificent river system! Don't let us travel like blind folks! I
want to see everything and know everything about this king of the
rivers of the earth!"

CHAPTER V. THE AMAZON

"THE LARGEST river in the whole world!" said Benito to Manoel Valdez,
on the morrow.

They were sitting on the bank which formed the southern boundary of
the fazenda, and looking at the liquid molecules passing slowly by,
which, coming from the enormous range of the Andes, were on their
road to lose themselves in the Atlantic Ocean eight hundred leagues
away.

"And the river which carries to the sea the largest volume of water,"
replied Manoel.

"A volume so considerable," added Benito, "that it freshens the sea
water for an immense distance from its mouth, and the force of whose
current is felt by ships at eight leagues from the coast."

"A river whose course is developed over more than thirty degrees of
latitude."

"And in a basin which from south to north does not comprise less than
twenty-five degrees."

"A basin!" exclaimed Benito. "Can you call it a basin, the vast plain
through which it runs, the savannah which on all sides stretches out
of sight, without a hill to give a gradient, without a mountain to
bound the horizon?"

"And along its whole extent," continued Manoel, "like the thousand
tentacles of some gigantic polyp, two hundred tributaries, flowing
from north or south, themselves fed by smaller affluents without
number, by the side of which the large rivers of Europe are but petty
streamlets."

"And in its course five hundred and sixty islands, without counting
islets, drifting or stationary, forming a kind of archipelago, and
yielding of themselves the wealth of a kingdom!"

"And along its flanks canals, lagoons, and lakes, such as cannot be
met with even in Switzerland, Lombardy, Scotland, or Canada."

"A river which, fed by its myriad tributaries, discharges into the
Atlantic over two hundred and fifty millions of cubic meters of water
every hour."

"A river whose course serves as the boundary of two republics, and
sweeps majestically across the largest empire of South America, as if
it were, in very truth, the Pacific Ocean itself flowing out along
its own canal into the Atlantic."

"And what a mouth! An arm of the sea in which one island, Marajo, has
a circumference of more than five hundred leagues!"

"And whose waters the ocean does not pond back without raising in a
strife which is phenomenal, a tide-race, or 'pororoca,' to which
the ebbs, the bores, and the eddies of other rivers are but tiny
ripples fanned up by the breeze."

"A river which three names are scarcely enough to distinguish, and
which ships of heavy tonnage, without any change in their cargoes,
can ascend for more than three thousand miles from its mouth."

"A river which, by itself, its affluents, and subsidiary streams,
opens a navigable commercial route across the whole of the south of
the continent, passing from the Magdalena to the Ortequazza, from the
Ortequazza to the Caqueta, from the Caqueta to the Putumayo, from the
Putumayo to the Amazon! Four thousand miles of waterway, which only
require a few canals to make the network of navigation complete!"

"In short, the biggest and most admirable river system which we have
in the world."

The two young men were speaking in a kind of frenzy of their
incomparable river. They were themselves children of this great
Amazon, whose affluents, well worthy of itself, from the highways
which penetrate Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, New Grenada, Venezuela, and
the four Guianas--English, French, Dutch and Brazilian.

What nations, what races, has it seen whose origin is lost in the
far-distant past! It is one of the largest rivers of the globe. Its
true source still baffles our explorers. Numbers of States still
claim the honor of giving it birth. The Amazon was not likely to
escape the inevitable fate, and Peru, Ecuador, and Colombia have for
years disputed as to the honor of its glorious paternity.

To-day, however, there seems to be little doubt but that the Amazon
rises in Peru, in the district of Huaraco, in the department of
Tarma, and that it starts from the Lake of Lauricocha, which is
situated between the eleventh and twelfth degree of south latitude.

Those who make the river rise in Bolivia, and descend form the
mountains of Titicaca, have to prove that the true Amazon is the
Ucayali, which is formed by the junction of the Paro and the
Apurimac--an assertion which is now generally rejected.

At its departure from Lake Lauricocha the youthful river starts
toward the northeast for a distance of five hundred and sixty miles,
and does not strike to the west until it has received an important
tributary--the Panta. It is called the Marañon in its journey through
Colombia and Peru up to the Brazilian frontier--or, rather, the
Maranhao, for Marañon is only the French rendering of the Portuguese
name.

From the frontier of Brazil to Manaos, where the superb Rio Negro
joins it, it takes the name of the Solimaës, or Solimoens, from the
name of the Indian tribe Solimao, of which survivors are still found
in the neighboring provinces. And, finally, from Manaos to the sea it
is the Amasenas, or river of the Amazons, a name given it by the old
Spaniards, the descendants of the adventurous Orellana, whose vague
but enthusiastic stories went to show that there existed a tribe of
female warriors on the Rio Nhamunda, one of the middle-sized
affluents of the great river.

From its commencement the Amazon is recognizable as destined to
become a magnificent stream. There are neither rapids nor obstacles
of any sort until it reaches a defile where its course is slightly
narrowed between two picturesque and unequal precipices. No falls are
met with until this point is reached, where it curves to the
eastward, and passes through the intermediary chain of the Andes.
Hereabouts are a few waterfalls, were it not for which the river
would be navigable from its mouth to its source. As it is, however,
according the Humboldt, the Amazon is free for five-sixths of its
length.

And from its first starting there is no lack of tributaries, which
are themselves fed by subsidiary streams. There is the Chinchipa,
coming from the northeast, on its left. On its right it is joined by
the Chachapoyas, coming from the northeast. On the left we have the
Marona and the Pastuca; and the Guallaga comes in from the right near
the mission station of Laguna. On the left there comes the Chambyra
and the Tigré, flowing from the northeast; and on the right the
Huallaga, which joins the main stream twenty-eight hundred miles from
the Atlantic, and can be ascended by steamboats for over two hundred
miles into the very heart of Peru. To the right, again, near the
mission of San Joachim d'Omaguas, just where the upper basin
terminates, and after flowing majestically across the pampas of
Sacramento, it receives the magnificent Ucayali, the great artery
which, fed by numerous affluents, descends from Lake Chucuito, in the
northeast of Arica.

Such are the principal branches above the village of Iquitos. Down
the stream the tributaries become so considerable that the beds of
most European rivers would fail to contain them. But the mouths of
these auxiliary waters Joam Garral and his people will pass as they
journey down the Amazon.

To the beauties of this unrivaled river, which waters the finest
country in the world, and keeps along its whole course at a few
degrees to the south of the equator, there is to be added another
quality, possessed by neither the Nile, the Mississippi, nor the
Livingstone--or, in other words, the old Congo-Zaira-Lualaba--and
that is (although some ill-informed travelers have stated to the
contrary) that the Amazon crosses a most healthy part of South
America. Its basin is constantly swept by westerly winds. It is not a
narrow valley surrounded by high mountains which border its banks,
but a huge plain, measuring three hundred and fifty leagues from
north ot south, scarcely varied with a few knolls, whose whole extent
the atmospheric currents can traverse unchecked.

Professor Agassiz very properly protested against the pretended
unhealthiness o the climate of a country which is destined to become
one of the most active of the world's producers. According to him, "a
soft and gentle breeze is constantly observable, and produces an
evaporation, thanks to which the temperature is kept down, and the
sun does not give out heat unchecked. The constancy of this
refreshing breeze renders the climate of the river Amazon agreeable,
and even delightful."

The Abbé Durand has likewise testified that if the temperature does
not drop below 25 degrees Centigrade, it never rises above 33
degrees, and this gives for the year a mean temperature of from 28
degrees to 29 degrees, with a range of only 8 degrees.

After such statements we are safe in affirming that the basin of the
Amazon has none of the burning heats of countries like Asia and
Africa, which are crossed by the same parallels.

The vast plain which serves for its valley is accessible over its
whole extent to the generous breezes which come from off the
Atlantic.

And the provinces to which the river has given its name have
acknowledged right to call themselves the healthiest of a country
which is one of the finest on the earth.

And how can we say that the hydrographical system of the Amazon is
not known?

In the sixteenth century Orellana, the lieutenant of one of the
brothers Pizarro, descended the Rio Negro, arrived on the main river
in 1540, ventured without a guide across the unknown district, and,
after eighteen months of a navigation of which is record is most
marvelous, reached the mouth.

In 1636 and 1637 the Portuguese Pedro Texeira ascended the Amazon to
Napo, with a fleet of forty-seven pirogues.

In 1743 La Condamine, after having measured an arc of the meridian at
the equator, left his companions Bouguer and Godin des Odonais,
embarked on the Chinchipe, descended it to its junction with the
Marañon, reached the mouth at Napo on the 31st of July, just in time
to observe an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter--which
allowed this Humboldt of the eighteenth century" to accurately
determine the latitude and longitude of the spot--visited the
villages on both banks, and on the 6th of September arrived in front
of the fort of Para. This immense journey had important results--not
only was the course of the Amazon made out in scientific fashion, but
it seemed almost certain that it communicated with the Orinoco.

Fifty-five years later Humboldt and Bonpland completed the valuable
work of La Condamine, and drew up the map of the Manañon as far as
Napo.

Since this period the Amazon itself and all its principal tributaries
have been frequently visited.

In 1827 Lister-Maw, in 1834 and 1835 Smyth, in 1844 the French
lieutenant in command of the "Boulonnaise," the Brazilian Valdez in
1840, the French "Paul Marcoy" from 1848 to 1860, the whimsical
painter Biard in 1859, Professor Agassiz in 1865 and 1866, in 1967
the Brazilian engineer Franz Keller-Linzenger, and lastly, in 1879
Doctor Crevaux, have explored the course of the river, ascended many
of its tributaries, and ascertained the navigability of its principal
affluents.

But what has won the greatest honor for the Brazilian government is
that on the 31st of July, 1857, after numerous frontier disputes
between France and Brazil, about the Guiana boundary, the course of
the Amazon was declared to be free and open to all flags; and, to
make practice harmonize with theory, Brazil entered into negotiations
with the neighboring powers for the exploration of every river-road
in the basin of the Amazon.

To-day lines of well-found steamboats, which correspond direct with
Liverpool, are plying on the river from its mouth up to Manaos;
others ascend to Iquitos; others by way of the Tapajoz, the Madeira,
the Rio Negro, or the Purus, make their way into the center of Peru
and Bolivia.

One can easily imagine the progress which commerce will one day make
in this immense and wealthy area, which is without a rival in the
world.

But to this medal of the future there is a reverse. No progress can
be accomplished without detriment to the indigenous races.

In face, on the Upper Amazon many Indian tribes have already
disappeared, among others the Curicicurus and the Sorimaos. On the
Putumayo, if a few Yuris are still met with, the Yahuas have
abandoned the district to take refuge among some of the distant
tributaries, and the Maoos have quitted its banks to wander in their
diminished numbers among the forests of Japura.

The Tunantins is almost depopulated, and there are only a few
families of wandering Indians at the mouth of the Jurua. The Teffé is
almost deserted, and near the sources of the Japur there remained but
the fragments of the great nation of the Umaüa. The Coari is
forsaken. There are but few Muras Indians on the banks of the Purus.
Of the ancient Manaos one can count but a wandering party or two. On
the banks of the Rio Negro there are only a few half-breeds,
Portuguese and natives, where a few years ago twenty-four different
nations had their homes.

Such is the law of progress. The Indians will disappear. Before the
Anglo-Saxon race Australians and Tasmanians have vanished. Before the
conquerors of the Far West the North American Indians have been wiped
out. One day perhaps the Arabs will be annihilated by the
colonization of the French.

But we must return to 1852. The means of communication, so numerous
now, did not then exist, and the journey of Joam Garral would require
not less than four months, owing to the conditions under which it was
made.

Hence this observation of Benito, while the two friends were watching
the river as it gently flowed at their feet:

"Manoel, my friend, if there is very little interval between our
arrival at Belem and the moment of our separation, the time will
appear to you to be very short."

"Yes, Benito," said Manoel, "and very long as well, for Minha cannot
by my wife until the end of the voyage."

CHAPTER VI. A FOREST ON THE GROUND

THE GARRAL family were in high glee. The magnificent journey on the
Amazon was to be undertaken under conditions as agreeable as
possible. Not only were the fazender and his family to start on a
voyage for several months, but, as we shall see, he was to be
accompanied by a part of the staff of the farm.

In beholding every one happy around him, Joam forgot the anxieties
which appeared to trouble his life. From the day his decision was
taken he had been another man, and when he busied himself about the
preparations for the expedition he regained his former activity. His
people rejoiced exceedingly at seeing him again at work. His moral
self reacted against his physical self, and Joam again became the
active, energetic man of his earlier years, and moved about once more
as though he had spent his life in the open air, under the
invigorating influences of forests, fields, and running waters.

Moreover, the few weeks that were to precede his departure had been
well employed.

At this period, as we have just remarked, the course of the Amazon
was not yet furrowed by the numberless steam vessels, which companies
were only then thinking of putting into the river. The service was
worked by individuals on their own account alone, and often the boats
were only employed in the business of the riverside establishments.

These boats were either "ubas," canoes made from the trunk of a
tree, hollowed out by fire, and finished with the ax, pointed and
light in front, and heavy and broad in the stern, able to carry from
one to a dozen paddlers, and of three or four tons burden:
"egariteas," constructed on a larger scale, of broader design, and
leaving on each side a gangway for the rowers: or "jangada," rafts
of no particular shape, propelled by a triangular sail, and
surmounted by a cabin of mud and straw, which served the Indian and
his family for a floating home.

These three kinds of craft formed the lesser flotilla of the Amazon,
and were only suited for a moderate traffic of passengers or
merchandise.

Larger vessels, however, existed, either "vigilingas," ranging from
eight up to ten tons, with three masts rigged with red sails, and
which in calm weather were rowed by four long paddles not at all easy
to work against the stream; or "cobertas," of twenty tons burden, a
kind of junk with a poop behind and a cabin down below, with two
masts and square sails of unequal size, and propelled, when the wind
fell, by six long sweeps which Indians worked from a forecastle.

But neither of these vessels satisfied Joam Garral. From the moment
that he had resolved to descend the Amazon he had thought of making
the most of the voyage by carrying a huge convoy of goods into Para.
From this point of view there was no necessity to descend the river
in a hurry. And the determination to which he had come pleased every
one, excepting, perhaps, Manoel, who would for very good reasons have
preferred some rapid steamboat.

But though the means of transport devised by Joam were primitive in
the extreme, he was going to take with him a numerous following and
abandon himself to the stream under exceptional conditions of comfort
and security.

It would be, in truth, as if a part of the fazenda of Iquitos had
been cut away from the bank and carried down the Amazon with all that
composed the family of the fazender--masters and servants, in their
dwellings, their cottages, and their huts.

The settlement of Iquitos included a part of those magnificent
forests which, in the central districts of South America, are
practically inexhaustible.

Joam Garral thoroughly understood the management of these woods,
which were rich in the most precious and diverse species adapted for
joinery, cabinet work, ship building, and carpentry, and from them he
annually drew considerable profits.

The river was there in front of him, and could it not be as safely
and economically used as a railway if one existed? So every year Joam
Garral felled some hundreds of trees from his stock and formed
immense rafts of floating wood, of joists, beams, and slightly
squared trunks, which were taken to Para in charge of capable pilots
who were thoroughly acquainted with the depths of the river and the
direction of its currents.

This year Joam Garral decided to do as he had done in preceding
years. Only, when the raft was made up, he was going to leave to
Benito all the detail of the trading part of the business. But there
was no time to lose. The beginning of June was the best season to
start, for the waters, increased by the floods of the upper basin,
would gradually and gradually subside until the month of October.

The first steps had thus to be taken without delay, for the raft was
to be of unusual proportions. It would be necessary to fell a
half-mile square of the forest which was situated at the junction of
the Nanay and the Amazon--that is to say, the whole river side of the
fazenda, to form the enormous mass, for such were the jangadas, or
river rafts, which attained the dimensions of a small island.

It was in this jangada, safer than any other vessel of the country,
larger than a hundred egariteas or vigilingas coupled together,
that Joam Garral proposed to embark with his family, his servants,
and his merchandise.

"Excellent idea!" had cried Minha, clapping her hands, when she
learned her father's scheme.

"Yes," said Yaquita, "and in that way we shall reach Belem without
danger or fatigue."

"And during the stoppages we can have some hunting in the forests
which line the banks," added Benito.

"Won't it take rather long?" observed Manoel; "could we not hit upon
some quicker way of descending the Amazon?"

It would take some time, obviously, but the interested observation of
the young doctor received no attention from any one.

Joam Garral then called in an Indian who was the principal manager of
the fazenda.

"In a month," he said to him, "the jangada must be built and ready to
launch."

"We'll set to work this very day, sir."

It was a heavy task. There were about a hundred Indians and blacks,
and during the first fortnight in May they did wonders. Some people
unaccustomed to these great tree massacres would perhaps have groaned
to see giants many hundred years old fall in a few hours beneath the
axes of the woodmen; but there was such a quantity on the banks of
the river, up stream and down stream, even to the most distant points
of the horizon, that the felling of this half-mile of forest would
scarcely leave an appreciable void.

The superintendent of the men, after receiving the instructions of
Joam Garral, had first cleared the ground of the creepers, brushwood,
weeds, and arborescent plants which obstructed it. Before taking to
the saw and the ax they had armed themselves with a felling-sword,
that indispensable tool of every one who desires to penetrate the
Amazonian forests, a large blade slightly curved, wide and flat, and
two or three feet long, and strongly handled, which the natives wield
with consummate address. In a few hours, with the help of the
felling-sword, they had cleared the ground, cut down the underwood,
and opened large gaps into the densest portions of the wood.

In this way the work progressed. The ground was cleared in front of
the woodmen. The old trunks were divested of their clothing of
creepers, cacti, ferns, mosses, and bromelias. They were stripped
naked to the bark, until such time as the bark itself was stripped
from off them.

Then the whole of the workers, before whom fled an innumerable crowd
of monkeys who were hardly their superiors in agility, slung
themselves into the upper branches, sawing off the heavier boughs and
cutting down the topmost limbs, which had to be cleared away on the
spot. Very soon there remained only a doomed forest, with long bare
stems, bereft of their crowns, through which the sun luxuriantly
rayed on to the humid soil which perhaps its shots had never before
caressed.

There was not a single tree which could not be used for some work of
skill, either in carpentry or cabinet-work. There, shooting up like
columns of ivory ringed with brown, were wax-palms one hundred and
twenty feet high, and four feet thick at their base; white chestnuts,
which yield the three-cornered nuts; "murichis," unexcelled for
building purposes; "barrigudos," measuring a couple of yards at the
swelling, which is found at a few feet above the earth, trees with
shining russet bark dotted with gray tubercles, each pointed stem of
which supports a horizontal parasol; and "bombax" of superb
stature, with its straight and smooth white stem. Among these
magnificent specimens of the Amazonian flora there fell many
"quatibos" whose rosy canopies towered above the neighboring trees,
whose fruits are like little cups with rows of chestnuts ranged
within, and whose wood of clear violet is specially in demand for
ship-building. And besides there was the ironwood; and more
particularly the "ibiriratea," nearly black in its skin, and so
close grained that of it the Indians make their battle-axes;
"jacarandas," more precious than mahogany; "cæsalpinas," only now
found in the depths of the old forests which have escaped the
woodman's ax; "sapucaias," one hundred and fifty feet high,
buttressed by natural arches, which, starting from three yards from
their base, rejoin the tree some thirty feet up the stem, twining
themselves round the trunk like the filatures of a twisted column,
whose head expands in a bouquet of vegetable fireworks made up of the
yellow, purple, and snowy white of the parasitic plants.

Three weeks after the work was begun not one was standing of all the
trees which had covered the angle of the Amazon and the Nanay. The
clearance was complete. Joam Garral had not even had to bestir
himself in the demolition of a forest which it would take twenty or
thirty years to replace. Not a stick of young or old wood was left to
mark the boundary of a future clearing, not even an angle to mark the
limit of the denudation. It was indeed a clean sweep; the trees were
cut to the level of the earth, to wait the day when their roots would
be got out, over which the coming spring would still spread its
verdant cloak.

This square space, washed on its sides by the waters of the river and
its tributary, was destined to be cleared, plowed, planted, and sown,
and the following year fields of manioc, coffee-shrubs, sugar-canes,
arrowroot, maize, and peanuts would occupy the ground so recently
covered by the trees.

The last week of the month had not arrived when the trunks,
classified according to their varieties and specific gravity, were
symmetrically arranged on the bank of the Amazon, at the spot where
the immense jangada was to be guilt--which, with the different
habitations for the accommodation of the crew, would become a
veritable floating village--to wait the time when the waters of the
river, swollen by the floods, would raise it and carry it for
hundreds of leagues to the Atlantic coast.

The whole time the work was going on Joam Garral had been engaged in
superintending it. From the clearing to the bank of the fazenda he
had formed a large mound on which the portions of the raft were
disposed, and to this matter he had attended entirely himself.

Yaquita was occupied with Cybele with the preparations for the
departure, though the old negress could not be made to understand why
they wanted to go or what they hoped to see.

"But you will see things that you never saw before," Yaquita kept
saying to her.

"Will they be better than what I see now?" was Cybele's invariable
reply.

Minha and her favorite for their part took care of what more
particularly concerned them. They were not preparing for a simple
voyage; for them it was a permanent departure, and there were a
thousand details to look after for settling in the other country in
which the young mulatto was to live with the mistress to whom she was
so devotedly attached. Minha was a trifle sorrowful, but the joyous
Lina was quite unaffected at leaving Iquitos. Minha Valdez would be
the same to her as Minha Garral, and to check her spirits she would
have to be separated from her mistress, and that was never thought
of.

Benito had actively assisted his father in the work, which was on the
point of completion. He commenced his apprenticeship to the trade of
a fazender, which would probably one day become his own, as he was
about to do that of a merchant on their descent of the river.

As for Manoel, he divided his time between the house, where Yaquita
and her daughter were as busy as possible, and the clearing, to which
Benito fetched him rather oftener than he thought convenient, and on
the whole the division was very unequal, as may well be imagined.

CHAPTER VII. FOLLOWING A LIANA

IT WAS a Sunday, the 26th of May, and the young people had made up
their minds to take a holiday. The weather was splendid, the heat
being tempered by the refreshing breezes which blew from off the
Cordilleras, and everything invited them out for an excursion into
the country.

Benito and Manoel had offered to accompany Minha through the thick
woods which bordered the right bank of the Amazon opposite the
fazenda.

It was, in a manner, a farewell visit to the charming environs of
Iquitos. The young men went equipped for the chase, but as sportsmen
who had no intention of going far from their companions in pursuit of
any game. Manoel could be trusted for that, and the girls--for Lina
could not leave her mistress-went prepared for a walk, an excursion
of two or three leagues being not too long to frighten them.

Neither Joam Garral nor Yaquita had time to go with them. For one
reason the plan of the jangada was not yet complete, and it was
necessary that its construction should not be interrupted for a day,
and another was that Yaquita and Cybele, well seconded as they were
by the domestics of the fazenda, had not an hour to lose.

Minha had accepted the offer with much pleasure, and so, after
breakfast on the day we speak of, at about eleven o'clock, the two
young men and the two girls met on the bank at the angle where the
two streams joined. One of the blacks went with them. They all
embarked in one of the ubas used in the service of the farm, and
after having passed between the islands of Iquitos and Parianta, they
reached the right bank of the Amazon.

They landed at a clump of superb tree-ferns, which were crowned, at a
height of some thirty feet with a sort of halo made of the dainty
branches of green velvet and the delicate lacework of the drooping
fronds.

"Well, Manoel," said Minha, "it is for me to do the honors of the
forest; you are only a stranger in these regions of the Upper Amazon.
We are at home here, and you must allow me to do my duty, as mistress
of the house."

"Dearest Minha," replied the young man, "you will be none the less
mistress of your house in our town of Belem than at the fazenda of
Iquitos, and there as here----"

"Now, then," interrupted Benito, "you did not come here to exchange
loving speeches, I imagine. Just forget for a few hours that you are
engaged."

"Not for an hour--not for an instant!" said Manoel.

"Perhaps you will if Minha orders you?"

"Minha will not order me."

"Who knows?" said Lina, laughing.

"Lina is right," answered Minha, who held out her hand to Manoel.
"Try to forget! Forget! my brother requires it. All is broken off! As
long as this walk lasts we are not engaged: I am no more than the
sister of Benito! You are only my friend!"

"To be sure," said Benito.

"Bravo! bravo! there are only strangers here," said the young
mulatto, clapping her hands.

"Strangers who see each other for the first time," added the girl;
"who meet, bow to----"

"Mademoiselle!" said Manoel, turning to Minha.

"To whom have I the honor to speak, sir?" said she in the most
serious manner possible.

"To Manoel Valdez, who will be glad if your brother will introduce
me."

"Oh, away with your nonsense!" cried Benito. "Stupid idea that I had!
Be engaged, my friends--be it as much as you like! Be it always!"

"Always!" said Minha, from whom the word escaped so naturally that
Lina's peals of laughter redoubled.

A grateful glance from Manoel repaid Minha for the imprudence of her
tongue.

"Come along," said Benito, so as to get his sister out of her
embarrassment; "if we walk on we shall not talk so much."

"One moment, brother," she said. "You have seen how ready I am to
obey you. You wished to oblige Manoel and me to forget each other, so
as not to spoil your walk. Very well; and now I am going to ask a
sacrifice from you so that you shall not spoil mine. Whether it
pleases you or not, Benito, you must promise me to forget----"

"Forget what?"

"That you are a sportsman!"

"What! you forbid me to----"

"I forbid you to fire at any of these charming birds--any of the
parrots, caciques, or curucus which are flying about so happily among
the trees! And the same interdiction with regard to the smaller game
with which we shall have to do to-day. If any ounce, jaguar, or such
thing comes too near, well----"

"But----" said Benito.

"If not, I will take Manoel's arm, and we shall save or lose
ourselves, and you will be obliged to run after us."

"Would you not like me to refuse, eh?" asked Benito, looking at
Manoel.

"I think I should!" replied the young man.

"Well then--no!" said Benito; "I do not refuse; I will obey and annoy
you. Come on!"

And so the four, followed by the black, struck under the splendid
trees, whose thick foliage prevented the sun's rays from every
reaching the soil.

There is nothing more magnificent than this part of the right bank of
the Amazon. There, in such picturesque confusion, so many different
trees shoot up that it is possible to count more than a hundred
different species in a square mile. A forester could easily see that
no woodman had been there with his hatchet or ax, for the effects of
a clearing are visible for many centuries afterward. If the new trees
are even a hundred years old, the general aspect still differs from
what it was originally, for the lianas and other parasitic plants
alter, and signs remain which no native can misunderstand.

The happy group moved then into the tall herbage, across the thickets
and under the bushes, chatting and laughing. In front, when the
brambles were too thick, the negro, felling-sword in hand, cleared
the way, and put thousands of birds to flight.

Minha was right to intercede for the little winged world which flew
about in the higher foliage, for the finest representations of
tropical ornithology were there to be seen--green parrots and
clamorous parakeets, which seemed to be the natural fruit of these
gigantic trees; humming-birds in all their varieties, light-blue and
ruby red; "tisauras" with long scissors-like tails, looking like
detached flowers which the wind blew from branch to branch;
blackbirds, with orange plumage bound with brown; golden[-edged
beccaficos; and "sabias," black as crows; all united in a deafening
concert of shrieks and whistles. The long beak of the toucan stood
out against the golden clusters of the "quiriris," and the
treepeckers or woodpeckers of Brazil wagged their little heads,
speckled all over with their purple spots. It was truly a scene of
enchantment.

But all were silent and went into hiding when above the tops of the
trees there grated like a rusty weathercock the "alma de gato" or
"soul of the cat," a kind of light fawn-colored sparrow-hawk. If he
proudly hooted, displaying in the air the long white plumes of his
tail, he in his turn meekly took to flight when in the loftier
heights there appeared the "gaviao," the large white-headed eagle,
the terror of the whole winged population of these woods.

Minha made Manoel admire the natural wonders which could not be found
in their simplicity in the more civilized provinces of the east. He
listened to her more with his eyes than his ears, for the cries and
the songs of these thousands of birds were every now and then so
penetrating that he was not able to hear what she said. The noisy
laughter of Lina was alone sufficiently shrill to ring out with its
joyous note above every kind of clucking, chirping, hooting,
whistling, and cooing.

At the end of an hour they had scarcely gone a mile. As they left the
river the trees assumed another aspect, and the animal life was no
longer met with near the ground, but at from sixty to eighty feet
above, where troops of monkeys chased each other along the higher
branches. Here and there a few cones of the solar rays shot down into
the underwood. In fact, in these tropical forests light does not seem
to be necessary for their existence. The air is enough for the
vegetable growth, whether it be large or small, tree or plant, and
all the heat required for the development of their sap is derived not
from the surrounding atmosphere, but from the bosom of the soil
itself, where it is stored up as in an enormous stove.

And on the bromelias, grass plantains, orchids, cacti, and in short
all the parasites which formed a little forest beneath the large one,
many marvelous insects were they tempted to pluck as though they had
been genuine blossoms--nestors with blue wings like shimmering
watered silk, leilu butterflies reflexed with gold and striped with
fringes of green, agrippina moths, ten inches long, with leaves for
wings, maribunda bees, like living emeralds set in sockets of gold,
and legions of lampyrons or pyrophorus coleopters, valagumas with
breastplates of bronze, and green elytræ, with yellow light pouring
from their eyes, who, when the night comes, illuminate the forest
with their many-colored scintillations.

"What wonders!" repeated the enthusiastic girl.

"You are at home, Minha, or at least you say so," said Benito, "and
that is the way you talk of your riches!"

"Sneer away, little brother!" replied Minha; "such beautiful things
are only lent to us; is it not so, Manoel? They come from the hand of
the Almighty and belong to the world!"

"Let Benito laugh on, Minha," said Manoel. "He hides it very well,
but he is a poet himself when his time comes, and he admires as much
as we do all these beauties of nature. Only when his gun is on his
arm, good-by to poetry!"

"Then be a poet now," replied the girl.

"I am a poet," said Benito. "O! Nature-enchanting, etc."

We may confess, however, that in forbidding him to use his gun Minha
had imposed on him a genuine privation. There was no lack of game in
the woods, and several magnificent opportunities he had declined with
regret.

In some of the less wooded parts, in places where the breaks were
tolerably spacious, they saw several pairs of ostriches, of the
species known as "naudus," from for to five feet high, accompanied
by their inseparable "seriemas," a sort of turkey, infinitely
better from an edible point of view than the huge birds they escort.

"See what that wretched promise costs me," sighed Benito, as, at a
gesture from his sister, he replaced under his arm the gun which had
instinctively gone up to his shoulder.

"We ought to respect the seriemas," said Manoel, "for they are great
destroyers of the snakes."

"Just as we ought to respect the snakes," replied Benito, "because
they eat the noxious insects, and just as we ought the insects
because they live on smaller insects more offensive still. At that
rate we ought to respect everything."

But the instinct of the young sportsman was about to be put to a
still more rigorous trial. The woods became of a sudden full of game.
Swift stags and graceful roebucks scampered off beneath the bushes,
and a well-aimed bullet would assuredly have stopped them. Here and
there turkeys showed themselves with their milk and coffee-colored
plumage; and peccaries, a sort of wild pig highly appreciated by
lovers of venison, and agouties, which are the hares and rabbits of
Central America; and tatous belonging to the order of edentates, with
their scaly shells of patterns of mosaic.

And truly Benito showed more than virtue, and even genuine heroism,
when he came across some tapirs, called "antas" in Brazil,
diminutives of the elephant, already nearly undiscoverable on the
banks of the Upper Amazon and its tributaries, pachyderms so dear to
the hunters for their rarity, so appreciated by the gourmands for
their meat, superior far to beef, and above all for the protuberance
on the nape of the neck, which is a morsel fit for a king.

His gun almost burned his fingers, but faithful to his promise he
kept it quiet.

But yet--and he cautioned his sister about this--the gun would go off
in spite of him, and probably register a master-stroke in sporting
annals, if within range there should come a "tamandoa assa," a kind
of large and very curious ant-eater.

Happily the big ant-eater did not show himself, neither did any
panthers, leopards, jaguars, guepars, or cougars, called
indifferently ounces in South America, and to whom it is not
advisable to get too near.

"After all," said Benito, who stopped for an instant, "to walk is
very well, but to walk without an object----"

"Without an object!" replied his sister; "but our object is to see,
to admire, to visit for the last time these forests of Central
America, which we shall not find again in Para, and to bid them a
fast farewell."

"Ah! an idea!"

It was Lina who spoke.

"An idea of Lina's can be no other than a silly one," said Benito,
shaking his head.

"It is unkind, brother," said Minha, "to make fun of Lina when she
has been thinking how to give our walk the object which you have just
regretted it lacks."

"Besides, Mr. Benito, I am sure my idea will please you," replied the
mulatto.

"Well, what is it?" asked Minha.

"You see that liana?"

And Lina pointed to a liana of the "cipos" kind, twisted round a
gigantic sensitive mimosa, whose leaves, light as feathers, shut up
at the least disturbance.

"Well?" said Benito.

"I proposed," replied Minha, "that we try to follow that liana to its
very end."

"It is an idea, and it is an object!" observed Benito, "to follow
this liana, no matter what may be the obstacles, thickets, underwood,
rocks, brooks, torrents, to let nothing stop us, not even----"

"Certainly, you are right, brother!" said Minha; "Lina is a trifle
absurd."

"Come on, then!" replied her brother; "you say that Lina is absurd so
as to say that Benito is absurd to approve of it!"

"Well, both of you are absurd, if that will amuse you," returned
Minha. "Let us follow the liana!"

"You are not afraid?" said Manoel.

"Still objections!" shouted Benito.

"Ah, Manoel! you would not speak like that if you were already on
your way and Minha was waiting for you at the end."

"I am silent," replied Manoel; "I have no more to say. I obey. Let us
follow the liana!"

And off they went as happy as children home for their holidays.

This vegetable might take them far if they determined to follow it to
its extremity, like the thread of Ariadne, as far almost as that
which the heiress of Minos used to lead her from the labyrinth, and
perhaps entangle them more deeply.

It was in fact a creeper of the salses family, one of the cipos known
under the name of the red "japicanga," whose length sometimes
measures several miles. But, after all, they could leave it when they
liked.

The cipo passed from one tree to another without breaking its
continuity, sometimes twisting round the trunks, sometimes garlanding
the branches, here jumping form a dragon-tree to a rosewood, then
from a gigantic chestnut, the "Bertholletia excelsa," to some of
the wine palms, "baccabas," whose branches have been appropriately
compared by Agassiz to long sticks of coral flecked with green. Here
round "tucumas," or ficuses, capriciously twisted like centenarian
olive-trees, and of which Brazil had fifty-four varieties; here round
the kinds of euphorbias, which produce caoutchouc, "gualtes," noble
palm-trees, with slender, graceful, and glossy stems; and
cacao-trees, which shoot up of their own accord on the banks of the
Amazon and its tributaries, having different melastomas, some with
red flowers and others ornamented with panicles of whitish berries.

But the halts! the shouts of cheating! when the happy company thought
they had lost their guiding thread! For it was necessary to go back
and disentangle it from the knot of parasitic plants.

"There it is!" said Lina, "I see it!"

"You are wrong," replied Minha; "that is not it, that is a liana of
another kind."

"No, Lina is right!" said Benito.

"No, Lina is wrong!" Manoel would naturally return.

Hence highly serious, long-continued discussions, in which no one
would give in.

Then the black on one side and Benito on the other would rush at the
trees and clamber up to the branches encircled by the cipo so as to
arrive at the true direction.

Now nothing was assuredly less easy in that jumble of knots, among
which twisted the liana in the middle of bromelias, "karatas,"
armed with their sharp prickles, orchids with rosy flowers and violet
lips the size of gloves, and oncidiums more tangled than a skein of
worsted between a kitten's paws.

And then when the liana ran down again to the ground the difficulty
of picking it out under the mass of lycopods, large-leaved
heliconias, rosy-tasseled calliandras, rhipsalas encircling it like
the thread on an electric reel, between the knots of the large white
ipomas, under the fleshy stems of the vanilla, and in the midst of
the shoots and branchlets of the grenadilla and the vine.

And when the cipo was found again what shouts of joy, and how they
resumed the walk for an instant interrupted!

For an hour the young people had already been advancing, and nothing
had happened to warn them that they were approaching the end.

They shook the liana with vigor, but it would not give, and the birds
flew away in hundreds, and the monkeys fled from tree to tree, so as
to point out the way.

If a thicket barred the road the felling-sword cut a deep gap, and
the group passed in. If it was a high rock, carpeted with verdure,
over which the liana twisted like a serpent, they climbed it and
passed on.

A large break now appeared. There, in the more open air, which is as
necessary to it as the light of the sun, the tree of the tropics,
par excellence, which, according to Humboldt, "accompanies man in
the infancy of his civilization," the great provider of the
inhabitant of the torrid zones, a banana-tree, was standing alone.
The long festoon of the liana curled round its higher branches,
moving away to the other side of the clearing, and disappeared again
into the forest.

"Shall we stop soon?" asked Manoel.

"No; a thousand times no!" cried Benito, "not without having reached
the end of it!"

"Perhaps," observed Minha, "it will soon be time to think of
returning."

"Oh, dearest mistress, let us go on again!" replied Lina.

"On forever!" added Benito.

And they plunged more deeply into the forest, which, becoming
clearer, allowed them to advance more easily.

Besides, the cipo bore away to the north, and toward the river. It
became less inconvenient to follow, seeing that they approached the
right bank, and it would be easy to get back afterward.

A quarter of an hour later they all stopped at the foot of a ravine
in front of a small tributary of the Amazon. But a bridge of lianas,
made of "bejucos," twined together by their interlacing branches,
crossed the stream. The cipo, dividing into two strings, served for a
handrail, and passed from one bank to the other.

Benito, all the time in front, had already stepped on the swinging
floor of this vegetable bridge.

Manoel wished to keep his sister back.

"Stay--stay, Minha!" he said, "Benito may go further if he likes, but
let us remain here."

"No! Come on, come on, dear mistress!" said Lina. "Don't be afraid,
the liana is getting thinner; we shall get the better of it, and find
out its end!"

And, without hesitation, the young mulatto boldly ventured toward
Benito.

"What children they are!" replied Minha. "Come along, Manoel, we must
follow."

And they all cleared the bridge, which swayed above the ravine like a
swing, and plunged again beneath the mighty trees.

But they had not proceeded for ten minutes along the interminable
cipo, in the direction of the river, when they stopped, and this time
not without cause.

"Have we got to the end of the liana?" asked Minha.

"No," replied Benito; "but we had better advance with care. Look!"
and Benito pointed to the cipo which, lost in the branches of a high
ficus, was agitated by violent shakings.

"What causes that?" asked Manoel.

"Perhaps some animal that we had better approach with a little
circumspection!"

And Benito, cocking his gun, motioned them to let him go on a bit,
and stepped about ten paces to the front.

Manoel, the two girls, and the black remained motionless where they
were.

Suddenly Benito raised a shout, and they saw him rush toward a tree;
they all ran as well.

Sight the most unforeseen, and little adapted to gratify the eyes!

A man, hanging by the neck, struggled at the end of the liana, which,
supple as a cord, had formed into a slipknot, and the shakings came
from the jerks into which he still agitated it in the last
convulsions of his agony!

Benito threw himself on the unfortunate fellow, and with a cut of his
hunting-knife severed the cipo.

The man slipped on to the ground. Manoel leaned over him, to try and
recall him to life, if it was not too late.

"Poor man!" murmured Minha.

"Mr. Manoel! Mr. Manoel! cried Lina. "He breathes again! His heart
beats; you must save him."

"True," said Manoel, "but I think it was about time that we came up."

He was about thirty years old, a white, clothed badly enough, much
emaciated, and he seemed to have suffered a good deal.

At his feet were an empty flask, thrown on the ground, and a cup and
ball in palm wood, of which the ball, made of the head of a tortoise,
was tied on with a fiber.

"To hang himself! to hang himself!" repeated Lina, "and young still!
What could have driven him to do such a thing?"

But the attempts of Manoel had not been long in bringing the luckless
wight to life again, and he opened his eyes and gave an "ahem!" so
vigorous and unexpected that Lina, frightened, replied to his cry
with another.

"Who are you, my friend?" Benito asked him.

"An ex-hanger-on, as far as I see."

"But your name?"

"Wait a minute and I will recall myself," said he, passing his hand
over his forehead. "I am known as Fragoso, at your service; and I am
still able to curl and cut your hair, to shave you, and to make you
comfortable according to all the rules of my art. I am a barber, so
to speak more truly, the most desperate of Figaros."

"And what made you think of----"

"What would you have, my gallant sir?" replied Fragoso, with a smile;
"a moment of despair, which I would have duly regretted had the
regrets been in another world! But eight hundred leagues of country
to traverse, and not a coin in my pouch, was not very comforting! I
had lost courage obviously."

To conclude, Fragoso had a good and pleasing figure, and as he
recovered it was evident that he was of a lively disposition. He was
one of those wandering barbers who travel on the banks of the Upper
Amazon, going from village to village, and putting the resources of
their art at the service of negroes, negresses, Indians and Indian
women, who appreciate them very much.

But poor Fragoso, abandoned and miserable, having eaten nothing for
forty hours, astray in the forest, had for an instant lost his head,
and we know the rest.

"My friend," said Benito to him, "you will go back with us to the
fazenda of Iquitos?"

"With pleasure," replied Fragoso; "you cut me down and I belong to
you. I must somehow be dependent."

"Well, dear mistress, don't you think we did well to continue our
walk?" asked Lina.

"That I do," returned the girl.

"Never mind," said Benito; "I never thought that we should finish by
finding a man at the end of the cipo."

"And, above all, a barber in difficulties, and on the road to hang
himself!" replied Fragoso.

"The poor fellow, who was now wide awake, was told about what had
passed. He warmly thanked Lina for the good idea she had had of
following the liana, and they all started on the road to the fazenda,
where Fragoso was received in a way that gave him neither wish nor
want to try his wretched task again.

CHAPTER VIII. THE JANGADA

THE HALF-MILE square of forest was cleared. With the carpenters
remained the task of arranging in the form of a raft the many
venerable trees which were lying on the strand.

And an easy task it was. Under the direction of Joam Garral the
Indians displayed their incomparable ingenuity. In everything
connected with house-building or ship-building these natives are, it
must be admitted, astonishing workmen. They have only an ax and a
saw, and they work on woods so hard that the edge of their tools gets
absolutely jagged; yet they square up trunks, shape beams out of
enormous stems, and get out of them joists and planking without the
aid of any machinery whatever, and, endowed with prodigious natural
ability, do all these things easily with their skilled and patient
hands.

The trees had not been launched into the Amazon to begin with; Joam
Garral was accustomed to proceed in a different way. The whole mass
of trunks was symmetrically arranged on a flat part of the bank,
which he had already leveled up at the junction of the Nanay with the
great river.

There it was that the jangada was to be built; thence it was that the
Amazon was to float it when the time came for it to start for its
destination.

And here an explanatory note is necessary in regard to the geography
of this immense body of water, and more especially as relating to a
singular phenomenon which the riverside inhabitants describe from
personal observation.

The two rivers which are, perhaps, more extensive than the great
artery of Brazil, the Nile and the Missouri-Mississippi, flow one
from south to north across the African continent, the other from
north to south through North America. They cross districts of many
different latitudes, and consequently of many different climates.

The Amazon, on the contrary, is entirely comprised--at least it is
from the point where it turns to the east, on the frontiers of
Ecuador and Peru--between the second and fourth parallels of south
latitude. Hence this immense river system is under the same climatic
conditions during the whole of its course.

In these parts there are two distinct seasons during which rain
falls. In the north of Brazil the rainy season is in September; in
the south it occurs in March. Consequently the right-hand tributaries
and the left-hand tributaries bring down their floods at half-yearly
intervals, and hence the level of the Amazon, after reaching its
maximum in June, gradually falls until October.

This Joam Garral knew by experience, and he intended to profit by the
phenomenon to launch the jangada, after having built it in comfort on
the river bank. In fact, between the mean and the higher level the
height of the Amazon could vary as much as forty feet, and between
the mean and the lower level as much as thirty feet. A difference of
seventy feet like this gave the fazender all he required.

The building was commenced without delay. Along the huge bank the
trunks were got into place according to their sizes and floating
power, which of course had to be taken into account, as among these
thick and heavy woods there were many whose specific gravity was but
little below that of water.

The first layer was entirely composed of trunks laid side by side. A
little interval had to be left between them, and they were bound
together by transverse beams, which assured the solidity of the
whole. "Piaçaba" ropes strapped them together as firmly as any
chain cables could have done. This material, which consists of the
ramicles of a certain palm-tree growing very abundantly on the river
banks, is in universal use in the district. Piaçaba floats, resists
immersion, and is cheaply made--very good reasons for causing it to
be valuable, and making it even an article of commerce with the Old
World.

Above this double row of trunks and beams were disposed the joists
and planks which formed the floor of the jangada, and rose about
thirty inches above the load water-line. The bulk was enormous, as we
must confess when it is considered that the raft measured a thousand
feet long and sixty broad, and thus had a superificies of sixty
thousand square feet. They were, in fact, about to commit a whole
forest to the Amazon.

The work of building was conducted under the immediate direction of
Joam Garral. But when that part was finished the question of
arrangement was submitted to the discussion of all, including even
the gallant Fragoso.

Just a word as to what he was doing in his new situation at the
fazenda.

The barber had never been so happy as since the day when he had been
received by the hospitable family. Joam Garral had offered to take
him to Para, on the road to which he was when the liana, according to
his account, had seized him by the neck and brought him up with a
round turn. Fragoso had accepted the offer, thanked him from the
bottom of his heart, and ever since had sought to make himself useful
in a thousand ways. He was a very intelligent fellow--what one might
call a "double right-hander"--that is to say, he could do everything,
and could do everything well. As merry as Lina, always singing, and
always ready with some good-natured joke, he was not long in being
liked by all.

But it was with the young mulatto that he claimed to have contracted
the heaviest obligation.

"A famous idea that of yours, Miss Lina," he was constantly saying,
"to play at 'following the liana!' It is a capital game even if you
do not always find a poor chap of a barber at the end!"

"Quite a chance, Mr. Fragoso," would laughingly reply Lina; "I assure
you, you owe me nothing!"

"What! nothing! I owe you my life, and I want it prolonged for a
hundred years, and that my recollection of the fact may endure even
longer! You see, it is not my trade to be hanged! If I tried my hand
at it, it was through necessity. But, on consideration, I would
rather die of hunger, and before quite going off I should try a
little pasturage with the brutes! As for this liana, it is a lien
between us, and so you will see!"

The conversation generally took a joking turn, but at the bottom
Fragoso was very grateful to the mulatto for having taken the
initiative in his rescue, and Lina was not insensible to the
attentions of the brave fellow, who was as straightforward, frank,
and good-looking as she was. Their friendship gave rise to many a
pleasant, "Ah, ah!" on the part of Benito, old Cybele, and others.

To return to the Jangada. After some discussion it was decided, as
the voyage was to be of some months' duration, to make it as complete
and comfortable as possible. The Garral family, comprising the
father, mother, daughter, Benito, Manoel, and the servants, Cybele
and Lina, were to live in a separate house. In addition to these,
there were to go forty Indians, forty blacks, Fragoso, and the pilot
who was to take charge of the navigation of the raft.

Though the crew was large, it was not more than sufficient for the
service on board. To work the jangada along the windings of the river
and between the hundreds of islands and islets which lay in its
course required fully as many as were taken, for if the current
furnished the motive power, it had nothing to do with the steering,
and the hundred and sixty arms were no more than were necessary to
work the long boathooks by which the giant raft was to be kept in
mid-stream.

In the first place, then, in the hinder part of the jangada they
built the master's house. It was arranged to contain several bedrooms
and a large dining-hall. One of the rooms was destined for Joam and
his wife, another for Lina and Cybele near those of their mistresses,
and a third room for Benito and Manoel. Minha had a room away from
the others, which was not by any means the least comfortably
designed.

This, the principal house, was carefully made of weather-boarding,
saturated with boiling resin, and thus rendered water-tight
throughout. It was capitally lighted with windows on all sides. In
front, the entrance-door gave immediate access to the common room. A
light veranda, resting on slender bamboos, protected the exterior
from the direct action of the solar rays. The whole was painted a
light-ocher color, which reflected the heat instead of absorbing it,
and kept down the temperature of the interior.

But when the heavy work, so to speak, had been completed, Minha
intervened with:

"Father, now your care has inclosed and covered us, you must allow us
to arrange our dwelling to please ourselves. The outside belongs to
you, the inside to us. Mother and I would like it to be as though our
house at the fazenda went with us on the journey, so as to make you
fancy that we had never left Iquitos!"

"Do just as you like, Minha," replied Joam Garral, smiling in the sad
way he often did.

"That will be nice!"

"I leave everything to your good taste."

"And that will do us honor, father. It ought to, for the sake of the
splendid country we are going through--which is yours, by the way,
and into which you are to enter after so many years' absence."

"Yes, Minha; yes," replied Joam. "It is rather as if we were
returning from exile--voluntary exile! Do your best; I approve
beforehand of what you do."

On Minha and Lina, to whom were added of their own free will Manoel
on the one side and Fragoso on the other, devolved the care of
decorating the inside of the house. With some imagination and a
little artistic feeling the result was highly satisfactory.

The best furniture of the fazenda naturally found its place within,
as after arriving in Para they could easily return it by one of the
igariteos. Tables, bamboo easy-chairs, cane sofas, carved wood
shelves, everything that constituted the charming furniture of the
tropics, was disposed with taste about the floating home. No one is
likely to imagine that the walls remained bare. The boards were
hidden beneath hangings of most agreeable variety. These hangings
were made of valuable bark, that of the "tuturis," which is raised
up in large folds like the brocades and damasks and softest and
richest materials of our modern looms. On the floors of the rooms
were jaguar skins, with wonderful spots, and thick monkey furs of
exquisite fleeciness. Light curtains of the russet silk, produced by
the "sumauma," hung from the windows. The beds, enveloped in
mosquito curtains, had their pillows, mattresses, and bolsters filled
with that fresh and elastic substance which in the Upper Amazon is
yielded by the bombax.

Throughout on the shelves and side-tables were little odds and ends,
brought from Rio Janeiro or Belem, those most precious to Minha being
such as had come from Manoel. What could be more pleasing in her eyes
than the knickknacks given by a loving hand which spoke to her
without saying anything?

In a few days the interior was completed, and it looked just like the
interior of the fazenda. A stationary house under a lovely clump of
trees on the borders of some beautiful river! Until it descended
between the banks of the larger stream it would not be out of keeping
with the picturesque landscape which stretched away on each side of
it.

We may add that the exterior of the house was no less charming than
the interior.

In fact, on the outside the young fellows had given free scope to
their taste and imagination.

From the basement to the roof it was literally covered with foliage.
A confused mass of orchids, bromelias, and climbing plants, all in
flower, rooted in boxes of excellent soil hidden beneath masses of
verdure. The trunk of some ficus or mimosa was never covered by a
more startlingly tropical attire. What whimsical climbers--ruby red
and golden yellow, with variegated clusters and tangled twigs--turned
over the brackets, under the ridges, on the rafters of the roof, and
across the lintels of the doors! They had brought them wholesale from
the woods in the neighborhood of the fazenda. A huge liana bound all
the parasites together; several times it made the round of the house,
clinging on to every angle, encircling every projection, forking,
uniting, it everywhere threw out its irregular branchlets, and
allowed not a bit of the house to be seen beneath its enormous
clusters of bloom.

As a delicate piece of attention, the author of which can be easily
recognized, the end of the cipo spread out before the very window of
the young mulatto, as though a long arm was forever holding a bouquet
of fresh flowers across the blind.

To sum up, it was as charming as could be; and as Yaquita, her
daughter, and Lina were content, we need say no more about it.

"It would not take much to make us plant trees on the jangada," said
Benito.

"Oh, trees!" ejaculated Minha.

"Why not?" replied Manoel. "Transported on to this solid platform,
with some good soil, I am sure they would do well, and we would have
no change of climate to fear for them, as the Amazon flows all the
time along the same parallel."

"Besides," said Benito, "every day islets of verdure, torn from the
banks, go drifting down the river. Do they not pass along with their
trees, bushes, thickets, rocks, and fields, to lose themselves in the
Atlantic eight hundred leagues away? Why, then, should we not
transform our raft into a floating garden?"

"Would you like a forest, miss?" said Fragoso, who stopped at
nothing.

"Yes, a forest!" cried the young mulatto; "a forest with its birds
and its monkeys----"

"Its snakes, its jaguars!" continued Benito.

"Its Indians, its nomadic tribes," added Manoel, "and even its
cannibals!"

"But where are you going to, Fragoso?" said Minha, seeing the active
barber making a rush at the bank.

"To look after the forest!" replied Fragoso.

"Useless, my friend," answered the smiling Minha. "Manoel has given
me a nosegay and I am quite content. It is true," she added, pointing
to the house hidden beneath the flowers, "that he has hidden our
house in his betrothal bouquet!"

CHAPTER IX. THE EVENING OF THE FIFTH OF JUNE

WHILE THE master's house was being constructed, Joam Garral was also
busied in the arrangement of the out-buildings, comprising the
kitchen, and offices in which provisions of all kinds were intended
to be stored.

In the first place, there was an important stock of the roots of that
little tree, some six or ten feet in height, which yields the manioc,
and which form the principal food of the inhabitants of these
inter-tropical countries. The root, very much like a long black
radish, grows in clumps like potatoes. If it is not poisonous in
Africa, it is certain that in South America it contains a more
noxious juice, which it is necessary to previously get rid of by
pressure. When this result is obtained, the root is reduced to flour,
and is then used in many ways, even in the form of tapioca, according
to the fancy of the natives.

On board the jangada there was a huge pile of this useful product
destined for general consumption.

As for preserved meats, not forgetting a whole flock of sheep, kept
in a special stable built in the front, they consisted principally of
a quantity of the "presunto" hams of the district, which are of
first-class quality; but the guns of the young fellows and of some of
the Indians were reckoned on for additional supplies, excellent
hunters as they were, to whom there was likely to be no lack of game
on the islands and in the forests bordering on the stream. The river
was expected to furnish its daily quota; prawns, which ought rather
to be called crawfish; "tambagus," the finest fish in the district,
of a flavor superior to that of salmon, to which it is often
compared; "pirarucus" with red scales, as large as sturgeons, which
when salted are used in great quantities throughout Brazil;
"candirus," awkward to capture, but good to eat; "piranhas," or
devil-fish, striped with red bands, and thirty inches long; turtles
large and small, which are counted by millions, and form so large a
part of the food of the natives; some of every one of these things it
was hoped would figure in turn on the tables of the master and his
men.

And so each day shooting and fishing were to be regularly indulged
in.

For beverages they had a good store of the best that country
produced; "caysuma" or "machachera," from the Upper and Lower
Amazon, an agreeable liquor of slightly acidulated taste, which is
distilled from the boiled root of the sweet manioc; "beiju," from
Brazil, a sort of national brandy, the "chica" of Peru; the
mazato" of the Ucayali, extracted from the boiled fruits of the
banana-tree, pressed and fermented; "guarana," a kind of paste made
from the double almond of the "paulliniasorbilis," a genuine tablet
of chocolate so far as its color goes, which is reduced to a fine
powder, and with the addition of water yields an excellent drink.

And this was not all. There is in these countries a species of dark
violet wine, which is got from the juice of the palm, and the
aromatic flavor of this "assais" is greatly appreciated by the
Brazilans, and of it there were on board a respectable number of
frasques (each holding a little more than half a gallon), which would
probably be emptied before they arrived at Para.

The special cellar of the jangada did honor to Benito, who had been
appointed its commander-in-chief. Several hundred bottles of sherry,
port, and letubal recalled names dear to the earlier conquerors of
South America. In addition, the young butler had stored away certain
demijohns, holding half a dozen gallons each, of excellent "tafia,"
a sugared brandy a trifle more pronounced in taste than the national
beiju.

As far as tobacco was concerned, there was none of that coarse kind
which usually contents the natives of the Amazonian basin. It all
came direct from Villa Bella da Imperatriz--or, in other words, fro
the district in which is grown the best tobacco in Central America.

The principal habitation, with its annexes--kitchen, offices, and
cellars--was placed in the rear--or, let us say, stern of the
craft--and formed a part reserved for the Garral family and their
personal servants.

In the center the huts for the Indians and the blacks had been
erected. The staff were thus placed under the same conditions as at
the fazenda of Iquitos, and would always be able to work under the
direction of the pilot.

To house the crew a good many huts were required, and these gave to
the jangada the appearance of a small village got adrift, and, to
tell the truth, it was a better built and better peopled village than
many of those on the Upper Amazon.

For the Indians Joam Garral had designed regular cabins--huts without
walls, with only light poles supporting the roof of foliage. The air
circulated freely throughout these open constructions and swung the
hammock suspended in the interior, and the natives, among whom were
three or four complete families, with women and children, were lodged
as if they were on shore.

The blacks here found their customary sheds. They differed from the
cabins by being closed in on their four faces, of which only one gave
access to the interior. The Indians, accustomed to live in the open
air, free and untrammeled, were not able to accustom themselves to
the imprisonment of the ajoupas, which agreed better with the life
of the blacks.

In the bow regular warehouses had arisen, containing the goods which
Joam Garral was carrying to Belem at the same time as the products of
his forests.

There, in vast storerooms, under the direction of Benito, the rich
cargo had been placed with as much order as if it had been carefully
stowed away in a ship's hold.

In the first place, seven thousand arrobas of caoutchouc, each of
about thirty pounds, composed the most precious part of the cargo,
for every pound of it was worth from three to four francs. The
jangada also took fifty hundredweight of sarsaparilla, a smilax which
forms an important branch of foreign trade throughout the Amazon
districts, and is getting rarer and rarer along the banks of the
river, so that the natives are very careful to spare the stems when
they gather them. Tonquin bans, known in Brazil under the name of
"cumarus," and used in the manufacture of certain essential oils;
sassafras, from which is extracted a precious balsam for wounds;
bales of dyeing plants, cases of several gums, and a quantity of
precious woods, completed a well-adapted cargo for lucrative and easy
sale in the provinces of Para.

Some may feel astonished that the number of Indians and negroes
embarked were only sufficient to work the raft, and that a larger
number were not taken in case of an attack by the riverside Indians.

Such would have been useless. The natives of Central America are not
to be feared in the least, and the times are quite changed since it
was necessary to provide against their aggressions. The Indians along
the river belong to peaceable tribes, and the fiercest of them have
retired before the advancing civilization, and drawn further and
further away from the river and its tributaries. Negro deserters,
escaped from the penal colonies of Brazil, England, Holland, or
France, are alone to be feared. But there are only a small number of
these fugitives, they only move in isolated groups across the
savannahs or the woods, and the jangada was, in a measure, secured
from any attack on the parts of the backwoodsmen.

On the other hand, there were a number of settlements on the
river--towns, villages, and missions. The immense stream no longer
traverses a desert, but a basin which is being colonized day by day.
Danger was not taken into consideration. There were no precautions
against attacks.

To conclude our description of the jangada, we have only to speak of
one or two erections of different kinds which gave it a very
picturesque aspect.

In the bow was the cabin of the pilot--we say in the bow, and not at
the stern, where the helmsman is generally found. In navigating under
such circumstances a rudder is of no use. Long oars have no effect on
a raft of such dimensions, even when worked with a hundred sturdy
arms. It was from the sides, by means of long boathooks or props
thrust against the bed of the stream, that the jangada was kept in
the current, and had its direction altered when going astray. By this
means they could range alongside either bank, if they wished for any
reason to come to a halt. Three or four ubas, and two pirogues, with
the necessary rigging, were carried on board, and afforded easy
communications with the banks. The pilot had to look after the
channels of the river, the deviations of the current, the eddies
which it was necessary to avoid, the creeks or bays which afforded
favorable anchorage, and to do this he had to be in the bow.

If the pilot was the material director of this immense machine--for
can we not justly call it so?--another personage was its spiritual
director; this was Padre Passanha, who had charge of the mission at
Iquitos.

A religious family, like that of Joam Garral's, had availed
themselves enthusiastically of this occasion of taking him with them.

Padre Passanha, then aged seventy, was a man of great worth, full of
evangelical fervor, charitable and good, and in countries where the
representatives of religion are not always examples of the virtues,
he stood out as the accomplished type of those great missionaries who
have done so much for civilization in the interior of the most savage
regions of the world.

For fifty years Padre Passanha had lived at Iquitos, in the mission
of which he was the chief. He was loved by all, and worthily so. The
Garral family held him in great esteem; it was he who had married the
daughter of Farmer Magalhaës to the clerk who had been received at
the fazenda. He had known the children from birth; he had baptized
them, educated them, and hoped to give each of them the nuptial
blessing.

The age of the padre did not allow of his exercising his important
ministry any longer. The horn of retreat for him had sounded; he was
about to be replaced at Iquitos by a younger missionary, and he was
preparing to return to Para, to end his days in one of those convents
which are reserved for the old servants of God.

What better occasion could offer than that of descending the river
with the family which was as his own? They had proposed it to him,
and he had accepted, and when arrived at Belem he was to marry the
young couple, Minha and Manoel.

But if Padre Passanha during the course of the voyage was to take his
meals with the family, Joam Garral desired to build for him a
dwelling apart, and heaven knows what care Yaquita and her daughter
took to make him comfortable! Assuredly the good old priest had never
been so lodged in his modest parsonage!

The parsonage was not enough for Padre Passanha; he ought to have a
chapel.

The chapel then was built in the center of the jangada, and a little
bell surmounted it.

It was small enough, undoubtedly, and it could not hold the whole of
the crew, but it was richly decorated, and if Joam Garral found his
own house on the raft, Padre Passanha had no cause to regret the
poverty-stricken church of Iquitos.

Such was the wonderful structure which was going down the Amazon. It
was then on the bank waiting till the flood came to carry it away.
From the observation and calculation of the rising it would seem as
though there was not much longer to wait.

All was ready to date, the 5th of June.

The pilot arrived the evening before. He was a man about fifty, well
up in his profession, but rather fond of drink. Such as he was, Joam
Garral in large matters at different times had employed him to take
his rafts to belem, and he had never had cause to repent it.

It is as well to add that Araujo--that was his name--never saw better
than when he had imbibed a few glasses of tafia; and he never did any
work at all without a certain demijohn of that liquor, to which he
paid frequent court.

The rise of the flood had clearly manifested itself for several days.
From minute to minute the level of the river rose, and during the
twenty-four hours which preceded the maximum the waters covered the
bank on which the raft rested, but did not lift the raft.

As soon as the movement was assured, and there could be no error as
to the height to which the flood would rise, all those interested in
the undertaking were seized with no little excitement. For if through
some inexplicable cause the waters of the Amazon did not rise
sufficiently to flood the jangada, it would all have to be built over
again. But as the fall of the river would be very rapid it would take
long months before similar conditions recurred.

On the 5th of June, toward the evening, the future passengers of the
jangada were collected on a plateau which was about a hundred feet
above the bank, and waited for the hour with an anxiety quite
intelligible.

There were Yaquita, her daughter, Manoel Valdez, Padre Passanha,
Benito, Lina, Fragoso, Cybele, and some of the servants, Indian or
negro, of the fazenda.

Fragoso could not keep himself still; he went and he came, he ran
down the bank and ran up the plateau, he noted the points of the
river gauge, and shouted "Hurrah!" as the water crept up.

"It will swim, it will swim!" he shouted. "the raft which is to take
us to Belem! It will float if all the cataracts of the sky have to
open to flood the Amazon!"

Joam Garral was on the raft with the pilot and some of the crew. It
was for him to take all the necessary measures at the critical
moment. The jangada was moored to the bank with solid cables, so that
it could not be carried away by the current when it floated off.

Quite a tribe from one hundred and fifty to two hundred Indians,
without counting the population of the village, had come to assist at
the interesting spectacle.

They were all keenly on the watch, and silence reigned over the
impressionable crowd.

Toward five o'clock in the evening the water had reached a level
higher than that of the night before--by more than a foot--and the
bank had already entirely disappeared beneath the liquid covering.

A certain groaning arose among the planks of the enormous structure,
but there was still wanting a few inches before it was quite lifted
and detached from the ground.

For an hour the groanings increased. The joists grated on all sides.
A struggle was going on in which little by little the trunks were
being dragged from their sandy bed.

Toward half-past six cries of joy arose. The jangada floated at last,
and the current took it toward the middle of the river, but, in
obedience to the cables, it quietly took up its position near the
bank at the moment that Padre Passanha gave it his blessing, as if it
were a vessel launched into the sea whose destinies are in the hands
of the Most High!

CHAPTER X. FROM IQUITOS TO PEVAS

ON THE 6th of June, the very next day, Joam Garral and his people
bade good-by to the superintendent and the Indians and negroes who
were to stay behind at the fazenda. At six o'clock in the morning the
jangada received all its passengers, or rather inhabitants, and each
of them took possession of his cabin, or perhaps we had better say
his house.

The moment of departure had come. Araujo, the pilot, got into his
place at the bow, and the crew, armed with their long poles, went to
their proper quarters.

Joam Garral, assisted by Benito and Manoel, superintended the
unmooring.

At the command of the pilot the ropes were eased off, and the poles
applied to the bank so as to give the jangada a start. The current
was not long in seizing it, and coasting the left bank, the islands
of Iquitos and Parianta were passed on the right.

The voyage had commenced--where would it finish? In Para, at Belem,
eight hundred leagues from this little Peruvian village, if nothing
happened to modify the route. How would it finish? That was the
secret of the future.

The weather was magnificent. A pleasant "pampero" tempered the
ardor of the sun--one of those winds which in June or July come from
off the Cordilleras, many hundred leagues away, after having swept
across the huge plain of the Sacramento. Had the raft been provided
with masts and sails she would have felt the effects of the breeze,
and her speed would have been greater; but owing to the sinuosities
of the river and its abrupt changes, which they were bound to follow,
they had had to renounce such assistance.

In a flat district like that through which the Amazon flows, which is
almost a boundless plain, the gradient of the river bed is scarcely
perceptible. It has been calculated that between Tabatinga on the
Brazilian frontier, and the source of this huge body of water, the
difference of level does not exceed a decimeter in each league. There
is no other river in the world whose inclination is so slight.

It follows from this that the average speed of the current cannot be
estimated at more than two leagues in twenty-four hours, and
sometimes, while the droughts are on, it is even less. However,
during the period of the floods it has been known to increase to
between thirty and forty kilometers.

Happily, it was under these latter conditions that the jangada was to
proceed; but, cumbrous in its movements, it could not keep up to the
speed of the current which ran past it. There are also to be taken
into account the stoppages occasioned by the bends in the river, the
numerous islands which had to be rounded, the shoals which had to be
avoided, and the hours of halting, which were necessarily lost when
the night was too dark to advance securely, so that we cannot allow
more than twenty-five kilometers for each twenty-four hours.

In addition, the surface of the water is far from being completely
clear. Trees still green, vegetable remains, islets of plants
constantly torn from the banks, formed quite a flotilla of fragments
carried on by the currents, and were so many obstacles to speedy
navigation.

The mouth of the Nanay was soon passed, and lost to sight behind a
point on the left bank, which, with its carpet of russet grasses
tinted by the sun, formed a ruddy relief to the green forests on the
horizon.

The jangada took the center of the stream between the numerous
picturesque islands, of which there are a dozen between Iquitos and
Pucalppa.

Araujo, who did not forget to clear his vision and his memory by an
occasional application to his demijohn, maneuvered very ably when
passing through this archipelago. At his word of command fifty poles
from each side of the raft were raised in the air, and struck the
water with an automatic movement very curious to behold.

While this was going on, Yaquita, aided by Lina and Cybele, was
getting everything in order, and the Indian cooks were preparing the
breakfast.

As for the two young fellows and Minha, they were walking up and down
in company with Padre Passanha, and from time to time the lady
stopped and watered the plants which were placed about the base of
the dwelling-house.

"Well, padre," said Benito, "do you know a more agreeable way of
traveling?"

"No, my dear boy," replied the padre; "it is truly traveling with all
one's belongings."

"And without any fatigue," added Manoel; "we might do hundreds of
thousands of miles in this way."

"And," said Minha, "you do not repent having taken passage with us?
Does it not seem to you as if we were afloat on an island drifted
quietly away from the bed of the river with its prairies and its
trees? Only----"

"Only?" repeated the padre.

"Only we have made the island with our own hands; it belongs to us,
and I prefer it to all the islands of the Amazon. I have a right to
be proud of it."

"Yes, my daughter; and I absolve you from your pride. Besides, I am
not allowed to scold you in the presence of Manoel!"

"But, on the other hand," replied she, gayly, "you should teach
Manoel to scold me when I deserve it. He is a great deal too
indulgent to my little self."

"Well, then, dear Minha," said Manoel, "I shall profit by that
permission to remind you----"

"Of what?"

"That you were very busy in the library at the fazenda, and that you
promised to make me very learned about everything connected with the
Upper Amazon. We know very little about it in Para, and here we have
been passing several islands and you have not even told me their
names!"

"What is the good of that?" said she.

"Yes; what is the good of it?" repeated Benito. "What can be the use
of remembering the hundreds of names in the 'Tupi' dialect with which
these islands are dressed out? It is enough to know them. The
Americans are much more practical with their Mississippi islands;
they number then----"

"As they number the avenues and streets of their towns," replied
Manoel. "Frankly, I don't care much for that numerical system; it
conveys nothing to the imagination--Sixty-fourth Island or
Sixty-fifth Island, any more than Sixth Street or Third Avenue. Don't
you agree with me, Minha?"

"Yes, Manoel; though I am of somewhat the same way of thinking as my
brother. But even if we do not know their names, the islands of our
great river are truly splendid! See how they rest under the shadows
of those gigantic palm-trees with their drooping leaves! And the
girdle of reeds which encircles them through which a pirogue can with
difficulty make its way! And the mangrove trees, whose fantastic
roots buttress them to the bank like the claws of some gigantic crab!
Yes, the islands are beautiful, but, beautiful as they are, they
cannot equal the one we have made our own!"

"My little Minha is enthusiastic to-day," said the padre.

"Ah, padre! I am so happy to see everybody happy around em!"

At this moment the voice of Yaquita was heard calling Minha into the
house.

The young girl smilingly ran off.

"You will have an amiable companion," said the padre. "All the joy of
the house goes away with you, my friend."

"Brave little sister!" said Benito, "we shall miss her greatly, and
the padre is right. However, if you do not marry her, Manoel--there
is still time--she will stay with us."

"She will stay with you, Benito," replied Manoel. "Believe me, I have
a presentiment that we shall all be reunited!"

The first day passed capitally; breakfast, dinner, siesta, walks, all
took place as if Joam Garral and his people were still in the
comfortable fazenda of Iquitos.

During these twenty-four hours the mouths of the rivers Bacali,
Chochio, Pucalppa, on the left of the stream, and those of the rivers
Itinicari, Maniti, Moyoc, Tucuya, and the islands of this name on the
right, were passed without accident. The night, lighted by the moon,
allowed them to save a halt, and the giant raft glided peacefully on
along the surface of the Amazon.

On the morrow, the 7th of June, the jangada breasted the banks of the
village of Pucalppa, named also New Oran. Old Oran, situated fifteen
leagues down stream on the same left bank of the river, is almost
abandoned for the new settlement, whose population consists of
Indians belonging to the Mayoruna and Orejone tribes. Nothing can be
more picturesque than this village with its ruddy-colored banks, its
unfinished church, its cottages, whose chimneys are hidden amid the
palms, and its two or three ubas half-stranded on the shore.

During the whole of the 7th of June the jangada continued to follow
the left bank of the river, passing several unknown tributaries of no
importance. For a moment there was a chance of her grounding on the
easterly shore of the island of Sinicure; but the pilot, well served
by the crew, warded off the danger and remained in the flow of the
stream.

In the evening they arrived alongside a narrow island, called Napo
Island, from the name of the river which here comes in from the
north-northwest, and mingles its waters with those of the Amazon
through a mouth about eight hundred yards across, after having
watered the territories of the Coto and Orejone Indians.

It was on the morning of the 7th of June that the jangada was abreast
the little island of Mango, which causes the Napo to split into two
streams before falling into the Amazon.

Several years later a French traveler, Paul Marcoy, went out to
examine the color of the waters of this tributary, which has been
graphically compared to the cloudy greenish opal of absinthe. At the
same time he corrected some of the measurements of La Condamine. But
then the mouth of the Napo was sensibly increased by the floods and
it was with a good deal of rapidity that its current, coming from the
eastern slopes of Cotopaxi, hurried fiercely to mingle itself with
the tawny waters of the Amazon.

A few Indians had wandered to the mouth of this river. They were
robust in build, of tall stature, with shaggy hair, and had their
noses pierced with a rod of palm, and the lobes of their ears
lengthened to their shoulders by the weight of heavy rings of
precious wood. Some women were with them. None of them showed any
intention of coming on board. It is asserted that these natives are
cannibals; but if that is true--and it is said of many of the
riverine tribes--there must have been more evidence for the
cannibalism than we get to-day.

Some hours later the village of Bella Vista, situated on a somewhat
lower bank, appeared, with its cluster of magnificent trees, towering
above a few huts roofed with straw, over which there drooped the
large leaves of some medium-sized banana-trees, like the waters
overflowing from a tazza.

Then the pilot, so as to follow a better current, which turned off
from the bank, directed the raft toward the right side of the river,
which he had not yet approached. The maneuver was not accomplished
without certain difficulties, which were successfully overcome after
a good many resorts to the demijohn.

This allowed them to notice in passing some of those numerous lagoons
with black waters, which are distributed along the course of the
Amazon, and which often have no communication with the river. One of
these, bearing the name of the Lagoon of Oran, is of fair size, and
receives the water by a large strait. In the middle of the stream are
scattered several islands and two or three islets curiously grouped;
and on the opposite bank Benito recognized the site of the ancient
Oran, of which they could only see a few uncertain traces.

During two days the jangada traveled sometimes under the left bank,
sometimes under the right, according to the condition of the current,
without giving the least sign of grounding.

The passengers had already become used to this new life. Joam Garral,
leaving to his son everything that referred to the commercial side of
the expedition, kept himself principally to his room, thinking and
writing. What he was writing about he told to nobody, not even
Yaquita, and it seemed to have already assumed the importance of a
veritable essay.

Benito, all observation, chatted with the pilot and acted as manager.
Yaquita, her daughter, and Manoel, nearly always formed a group
apart, discussing their future projects just as they had walked and
done in the park of the fazenda. The life was, in fact, the same. Not
quite, perhaps, to Benito, who had not yet found occasion to
participate in the pleasures of the chase. If, however, the forests
of Iquitos failed him with their wild beasts, agoutis, peccaries, and
cabiais, the birds flew in flocks from the banks of the river and
fearlessly perched on the jangada. When they were of such quality as
to figure fairly on the table, Benito shot them; and, in the interest
of all, his sister raised no objection; but if he came across any
gray or yellow herons, or red or white ibises, which haunt the sides,
he spared them through love for Minha. One single species of grebe,
which is uneatable, found no grace in the eyes of the young merchant;
this was the "caiarara," as quick to dive as to swim or fly; a bird
with a disagreeable cry, but whose down bears a high price in the
different markets of the Amazonian basin.

At length, after having passed the village of Omaguas and the mouth
of the Ambiacu, the jangada arrived at Pevas on the evening of the
11th of June, and was moored to the bank.

As it was to remain here for some hours before nightfall, Benito
disembarked, taking with him the ever-ready Fragoso, and the two
sportsmen started off to beat the thickets in the environs of the
little place. An agouti and a cabiai, not to mention a dozen
partridges, enriched the larder after this fortunate excursion. At
Pevas, where there is a population of two hundred and sixty
inhabitants, Benito would perhaps have done some trade with the lay
brothers of the mission, who are at the same time wholesale
merchants, but these had just sent away some bales of sarsaparilla
and arrobas of caoutchouc toward the Lower Amazon, and their stores
were empty.

The jangada departed at daybreak, and passed the little archipelago
of the Iatio and Cochiquinas islands, after having left the village
of the latter name on the right. Several mouths of smaller unnamed
affluents showed themselves on the right of the river through the
spaces between the islands.

Many natives, with shaved heads, tattooed cheeks and foreheads,
carrying plates of metal in the lobes of their ears, noses, and lower
lips, appeared for an instant on the shore. They were armed with
arrows and blow tubes, but made no use of them, and did not even
attempt to communicate with the jangada.

CHAPTER XI. FROM PEVAS TO THE FRONTIER

DURING THE FEW days which followed nothing occurred worthy of note.
The nights were so fine that the long raft went on its way with the
stream without even a halt. The two picturesque banks of the river
seemed to change like the panoramas of the theaters which unroll from
one wing to another. By a kind of optical illusion it appeared as
though the raft was motionless between two moving pathways.

Benito had no shooting on the banks, for no halt was made, but game
was very advantageously replaced by the results of the fishing.

A great variety of excellent fish were taken--"pacos," "surubis,"
"gamitanas," of exquisite flavor, and several of those large rays
called "duridaris," with rose-colored stomachs and black backs
armed with highly poisonous darts. There were also collected by
thousands those "candirus," a kind of small silurus, of which many
are microscopic, and which so frequently make a pincushion of the
calves of the bather when he imprudently ventures into their haunts.

The rich waters of the Amazon were also frequented by many other
aquatic animals, which escorted the jangada through its waves for
whole hours together.

There were the gigantic "pria-rucus," ten and twelve feet long,
cuirassed with large scales with scarlet borders, whose flesh was not
much appreciated by the natives. Neither did they care to capture
many of the graceful dolphins which played about in hundreds,
striking with their tails the planks of the raft, gamboling at the
bow and stern, and making the water alive with colored reflections
and spurts of spray, which the refracted light converted into so many
rainbows.

On the 16th of June the jangada, after fortunately clearing several
shallows in approaching the banks, arrived near the large island of
San Pablo, and the following evening she stopped at the village of
Moromoros, which is situated on the left side of the Amazon.
Twenty-four hours afterward, passing the mouths of the Atacoari or
Cocha--or rather the "furo," or canal, which communicates with the
lake of Cabello-Cocha on the right bank--she put in at the rising
ground of the mission of Cocha. This was the country of the Marahua
Indians, whose long floating hair, and mouths opening in the middle
of a kind of fan made of the spines of palm-trees, six inches long,
give them a cat-like look--their endeavor being, according to Paul
Marcoy, to resemble the tiger, whose boldness, strength, and cunning
they admire above everything. Several women came with these Marahuas,
smoking cigars, but holding the lighted ends in their teeth. All of
them, like the king of the Amazonian forests, go about almost naked.

The mission of Cocha was then in charge of a Franciscan monk, who was
anxious to visit Padre Passanha.

Joam Garral received him with a warm welcome, and offered him a seat
at the dinner-table.

On that day was given a dinner which did honor to the Indian cook.
The traditional soup of fragrant herbs; cake, so often made to
replace bread in Brazil, composed of the flour of the manioc
thoroughly impregnated with the gravy of meat and tomato yelly;
poultry with rice, swimming in a sharp sauce made of vinegar and
"malagueta;" a dish of spiced herbs, and cold cake sprinkled with
cinnamon, formed enough to tempt a poor monk reduced to the ordinary
meager fare of his parish. They tried all they could to detain him,
and Yaquita and her daughter did their utmost in persuasion. But the
Franciscan had to visit on that evening an Indian who was lying ill
at Cocha, and he heartily thanked the hospitable family and departed,
not without taking a few presents, which would be well received by
the neophytes of the mission.

For two days Araujo was very busy. The bed of the river gradually
enlarged, but the islands became more numerous, and the current,
embarrassed by these obstacles, increased in strength. Great care was
necessary in passing between the islands of Cabello-Cocha, Tarapote,
and Cacao. Many stoppages had to be made, and occasionally they were
obliged to pole off the jangada, which now and then threatened to run
aground. Every one assisted in the work, and it was under these
difficult circumstances that, on the evening of the 20th of June,
they found themselves at Nuestra-Senora-di-Loreto.

Loreto is the last Peruvian town situated on the left bank of the
river before arriving at the Brazilian frontier. It is only a little
village, composed of about twenty houses, grouped on a slightly
undulating bank, formed of ocherous earth and clay.

It was in 1770 that this mission was founded by the Jesuit
missionaries. The Ticuma Indians, who inhabit the territories on the
north of the river, are natives with ruddy skins, bushy hair, and
striped designs on their faces, making them look like the lacquer on
a Chinese table. Both men and women are simply clothed, with cotton
bands bound round their things and stomachs. They are now not more
than two hundred in number, and on the banks of the Atacoari are
found the last traces of a nation which was formerly so powerful
under its famous chiefs.

At Loreto there also live a few Peruvian soldiers and two or three
Portuguese merchants, trading in cotton stuffs, salt fish, and
sarsaparilla.

Benito went ashore, to buy, if possible, a few bales of this smilax,
which is always so much in demand in the markets of the Amazon. Joam
Garral, occupied all the time in the work which gave him not a
moment's rest, did not stir. Yaquita, her daughter, and Manoel also
remained on board. The mosquitoes of Loreto have a deserved
reputation for driving away such visitors as do not care to leave
much of their blood with the redoubtable diptera.

Manoel had a few appropriate words to say about these insects, and
they were not of a nature to encourage an inclination to brave their
stings.

"They say that all the new species which infest the banks of the
Amazon collect at the village of Loreto. I believe it, but do not
wish to confirm it. There, Minha, you can take your choice between
the gray mosquito, the hairy mosquito, the white-clawed mosquito, the
dwarf mosquito, the trumpeter, the little fifer, the urtiquis, the
harlequin, the big black, and the red of the woods; or rather they
make take their choice of you for a little repast, and you will come
back hardly recognizable! I fancy these bloodthirsty diptera guard
the Brazilian frontier considerably better than the poverty-stricken
soldiers we see on the bank."

"But if everything is of use in nature," asked Minha, "what is the
use of mosquitoes?"

"They minister to the happiness of entomologists," replied Manoel;
"and I should be much embarrassed to find a better explanation."

What Manoel had said of the Loreto mosquitoes was only too true. When
Benito had finished his business and returned on board, his face and
hands were tattooed with thousands of red points, without counting
some chigoes, which, in spite of the leather of his boots, had
introduced themselves beneath his toes.

"Let us set off this very instant," said Benito, "or these wretched
insects will invade us, and the jangada will become uninhabitable!"

"And we shall take them into Para," said Manoel, "where there are
already quite enough for its own needs."

And so, in order not to pass even the night near the banks, the
jangada pushed off into the stream.

On leaving Loreto the Amazon turns slightly toward the southwest,
between the islands of Arava, Cuyari, and Urucutea. The jangada then
glided along the black waters of the Cajaru, as they mingled with the
white stream of the Amazon. After having passed this tributary on the
left, it peacefully arrived during the evening of the 23d of June
alongside the large island of Jahuma.

The setting of the sun on a clear horizon, free from all haze,
announced one of those beautiful tropical nights which are unknown in
the temperate zones. A light breeze freshened the air; the moon arose
in the constellated depths of the sky, and for several hours took the
place of the twilight which is absent from these latitudes. But even
during this period the stars shone with unequaled purity. The immense
plain seemed to stretch into the infinite like a sea, and at the
extremity of the axis, which measures more than two hundred thousand
millions of leagues, there appeared on the north the single diamond
of the pole star, on the south the four brilliants of the Southern
Cross.

The trees on the left bank and on the island of Jahuma stood up in
sharp black outline. There were recognizable in the undecided
silhouettes the trunks, or rather columns, of "copahus," which
spread out in umbrellas, groups of "sandis," from which is
extracted the thick and sugared milk, intoxicating as wine itself,
and "vignaticos" eighty feet high, whose summits shake at the
passage of the lightest currents of air. "What a magnificent sermon
are these forests of the Amazon!" has been justly said. Yes; and we
might add, "What a magnificent hymn there is in the nights of the
tropics!"

The birds were giving forth their last evening notes--"bentivis,"
who hang their nests on the bank-side reeds; "niambus," a kind of
partridge, whose song is composed of four notes, in perfect accord;
"kamichis," with their plaintive melody; kingfishers, whose call
responds like a signal to the last cry of their congeners;
"canindes," with their sonorous trumpets; and red macaws, who fold
their wings in the foliage of the "jaquetibas," when night comes on
to dim their glowing colors.

On the jangada every one was at his post, in the attitude of repose.
The pilot alone, standing in the bow, showed his tall stature,
scarcely defined in the earlier shadows. The watch, with his long
pole on his shoulder, reminded one of an encampment of Tartar
horsemen. The Brazilian flag hung from the top of the staff in the
bow, and the breeze was scarcely strong enough to lift the bunting.

At eight o'clock the three first tinklings of the Angelus escaped
from the bell of the little chapel. The three tinklings of the second
and third verses sounded in their turn, and the salutation was
completed in the series of more rapid strokes of the little bell.

However, the family after this July day remained sitting under the
veranda to breathe the fresh air from the open.

It had been so each evening, and while Joam Garral, always silent,
was contented to listen, the young people gayly chatted away till
bedtime.

"Ah! our splendid river! our magnificent Amazon!" exclaimed the young
girl, whose enthusiasm for the immense stream never failed.

"Unequaled river, in very truth," said Manoel; "and I do not
understand all its sublime beauties. We are going down it, however,
like Orellana and La Condamine did so many centuries ago, and I am
not at all surprised at their marvelous descriptions."

"A little fabulous," replied Benito.

"Now, brother," said Minha seriously, "say no evil of our Amazon."

"To remind you that it has its legends, my sister, is to say no ill
of it."

"Yes, that is true; and it has some marvelous ones," replied Minha.

"What legends?" asked Manoel. "I dare avow that they have not yet
found their way into Para--or rather that, for my part, I am not
acquainted with them."

"What, then do you learn in the Belem colleges?" laughingly asked
Minha.

"I begin to perceive that they teach us nothing," replied Manoel.

"What, sir!" replied Minha, with a pleasant seriousness, "you do not
know, among other fables, that an enormous reptile called the
'minhocao,' sometimes visits the Amazon, and that the waters of the
river rise or fall according as this serpent plunges in or quites
them, so gigantic is he?"

"But have you ever seen t his phenomenal minhocao?"

"Alas, no!" replied Lina.

"What a pity!" Fragoso thought it proper to add.

"And the 'Mae d'Aqua,'" continued the girl--"that proud and
redoubtable woman whose look fascinates and drages beneath the waters
of the river the imprudent ones who gaze a her."

"Oh, as for the 'Mae d'Aqua,' she exists!" cried the naïve Lina;
"they say that she still walks on the banks, but disappears like a
water sprite as soon as you approach her."

"Very well, Lina," said Benito; "the first time you see her just let
me know."

"So that she may seize you and take you to the bottom of the river?
Never, Mr. Benito!"

"She believes it!" shouted Minha.

"There are people who believe in the trunk of Manaos," said Fragoso,
always ready to intervene on behalf of Lina.

"The 'trunk of Manaos'?" asked Manoel. "What about the trunk of
Manaos?"

"Mr. Manoel," answered Fragoso, with comic gravity, "it appears that
there is--or rather formerly was--a trunk of 'turuma,' which every
year at the same time descended the Rio Negro, stopping several days
at Manaos, and going on into Para, halting at every port, where the
natives ornamented it with little flags. Arrived at Belem, it came to
a halt, turned back on its road, remounted the Amazon to the Rio
Negro, and returned to the forest from which it had mysteriously
started. One day somebody tried to drag it ashore, but the river rose
in anger, and the attempt had to be given up. And on another occasion
the captain of a ship harpooned it and tried to tow it along. This
time again the river, in anger, broke off the robes, and the trunk
mysteriously escaped."

"What became of it?" asked the mulatto.

"It appears that on its last voyage, Miss Lina," replied Fragoso, "it
mistook the way, and instead of going up the Negro it continued in
the Amazon, and it has never been seen again."

"Oh, if we could only meet it!" said Lina.

"If we meet it," answered Benito, "we will put you on it! It will
take you back to the mysterious forest, and you will likewise pass
into the state of a legendary mind!"

"And why not?" asked the mulatto.

"So much for your legends," said Manoel; "and I think your river is
worthy of them. But it has also its histories, which are worth
something more. I know one, and if I were not afraid of grieving
you--for it is a very sad one--I would relate it."

"Oh! tell it, by all means, Mr. Manoel," exclaimed Lina; "I like
stories which make you cry!"

"What, do you cry, :ina?" said Benito.

"Yes, Mr. Benito; but I cry when laughing."

"Oh, well! let is uave it, Manoel!"

"It is the history of a Frenchwoman whose sorrows rendered these
banks memorable in the eighteenth century."

"We are listening," said Minha.

"Here goes, then," said Manoel. "In 1741, at the time of the
expedition of the two Frenchmen, Bouguer and La Condamine, who were
sent to measure a terrestrial degree on the equator, they were
accompanied by a very distinguished astronomer, Godin des Odonais.
Godin des Odonais set out then, but he did not set out alone, for the
New World; he took with him his young wife, his children, his
father-in-law, and his brother-in-law. The travelers arrived at Quito
in good health. There commenced a series of misfortunes for Madame
Odonais; in a few months she lost some of her children. When Godin
des Odonais had completed his work, toward the end of the year 1759,
he left Quito and started for Cayenne. Once arrived in this town he
wanted his family to come to him, but war had been declared, and he
was obliged to ask the Portuguese government for permission for a
free passage for Madame Odonais and her people. What do you think?
Many years passed before the permission could be given. In 1765 Godin
des Odonais, maddened by the delay, resolved to ascend the Amazon in
search of his wife at Quito; but at the moment of his departure a
sudden illness stopped him, and he could not carry out his intention.
However, his application had not been useless, and Madame des Odonais
learned at last that the king of Portugal had given the necessary
permission, and prepared to embark and descend the river to her
husband. At the same time an escort was ordered to be ready in the
missions of the Upper Amazon. Madame des Odonais was a woman of great
courage, as you will see presently; she never hesitated, and
notwithstanding the dangers of such a voyage across the continent,
she started."

"It was her duty to her husband, Manoel," said Yaquita, "and I would
have done the same."

"Madame des Odonais," continued Manoel, "came to Rio Bamba, at the
south of Quito, bringing her brother-in-law, her children, and a
French doctor. Their endeavor was to reach the missions on the
Brazilian frontier, where they hoped to find a ship and the escort.
The voyage at first was favorable; it was made down the tributaries
of the Amazon in a canoe. The difficulties, however, gradually
increased with the dangers and fatigues of a country decimated by the
smallpox. Of several guides who offered their services, the most part
disappeared after a few days; one of them, the last who remained
faithful to the travlers, was drowned in the Bobonasa, in endeavoring
to help the French doctor. At length the canoe, damaged by rocks and
floating trees, became useless. It was therefore necessary to get on
shore, and there at the edge of the impenetrable forest they built a
few huts of foliage. The doctor offered to go on in front with a
negro who had never wished to leave Madame des Odonais. The two went
off; they waited for them several days, but in vain. They never
returned.

"In the meantime the victuals were getting exhausted. The forsaken
ones in vain endeavored to descend the Bobonasa on a raft. They had
to again take to the forest, and make their way on foot through the
almost impenetrable undergrowth. The fatigues were too much for the
poor folks! They died off one by one in spite of the cares of the
noble Frenchwoman. At the end of a few days children, relations, and
servants, were all dead!"

"What an unfortunate woman!" said Lina.

"Madame des Odonais alone remained," continued Manoel. "There she
was, at a thousand leagues from the ocean which she was trying to
reach! It was no longer a mother who continued her journey toward the
river--the mother had lost her shildren; she had buried them with her
own hands! It was a wife who wished to see her husband once again!
She traveled night and day, and at length regained the Bobonasa. She
was there received by some kind-hearted Indians, who took her to the
missions, where the escort was waiting. But she arrived alone, and
behind her the stages of the route were marked with graves! Madame
des Odonais reached Loreto, where we were a few days back. From this
Peruvian village she descended the Amazon, as we are doing at this
moment, and at length she rejoined her husband after a separation of
nineteen years."

"Poor lady!" said Minha.

"Above all, poor mother!" answered Yaquita.

At this moment Araujo, the pilot, came aft and said:

"Joam Garral, we are off the Ronde Island. We are passing the
frontier!"

"The frontier!" replied Joam.

And rising, he went to the side of the jangada, and looked long and
earnestly at the Ronde Island, with the waves breaking up against it.
Then his hand sought his forehead, as if to rid himself of some
remembrance.

"The frontier!" murmured he, bowing his head by an involuntary
movement.

But an instant after his head was raised, and his expression was that
of a man resolved to do his duty to the last.

CHAPTER XII. FRAGOSO AT WORK

"BRAZA" (burning embers) is a word found in the Spanish language as
far back as the twelfth century. It has been used to make the word
"brazil," as descriptive of certain woods which yield a reddish dye.
From this has come the name "Brazil," given to that vast district of
South America which is crossed by the equator, and in which these
products are so frequently met with. In very early days these woods
were the object of considerable trade. Although correctly called
"ibirapitunga," from the place of production, the name of
"brazil" stuck to them, and it has become that of the country,
which seems like an immense heap of embers lighted by the rays of the
tropical sun.

Brazil was from the first occupied by the Portuguese. About the
commencement of the sixteenth century, Alvarez Cabral, the pilot,
took possession of it, and although France and Holland partially
established themselves there, it has remained Portuguese, and
possesses all the qualities which distinguish that gallant little
nation. It is to-day the largest state of South America, and has at
its head the intelligent artist-king Dom Pedro.

"What is your privilege in the tribe?" asked Montaigne of an Indian
whom he met at Havre.

"The privilege of marching first to battle!" innocently answered the
Indian.

War, we know, was for a long time the surest and most rapid vehicle
of civilization. The Brazilians did what this Indian did: they
fought, they defended their conquests, they enlarged them, and we see
them marching in the first rank of the civilizing advance.

It was in 1824, sixteen years after the foundation of the
Portugo-Brazilian Empire, that Brazil proclaimed its independence by
the voice of Don Juan, whom the French armies had chased from
Portugal.

It remained only to define the frontier between the new empire and
that of its neighbor, Peru. This was no easy matter.

If Brazil wished to extend to the Rio Napo in the west, Peru
attempted to reach eight degrees further, as far as the Lake of Ega.

But in the meantime Brazil had to interfere to hinder the kidnaping
of the Indians from the Amazon, a practice which was engaged in much
to the profit of the Hispano-Brazilian missions. There was no better
method of checking this trade than that of fortifying the Island of
the Ronde, a little above Tabatinga, and there establishing a post.

This afforded the solution, and from that time the frontier of the
two countries passed through the middle of this island.

Above, the river is Peruvian, and is called the Marañon, as has been
said. Below, it is Brazilian, and takes the name of the Amazon.

It was on the evening of the 25th of June that the jangada stopped
before Tabatinga, the first Brazilian town situated on the left bank,
at the entrance of the river of which it bears the name, and
bleonging to the parish of St. Paul, established on the right a
little further down stream.

Joam Garral had decided to pass thirty-six hours here, so as to give
a little rest to the crew. They would not start, therefore, until the
morning of the 27th.

On this occasion Yaquita and her children, less likely, perhaps, than
at Iquitos to be fed upon by the native mosquitoes, had announced
their intention of going on ashore and visiting the town.

The population of Tabatinga is estimated at four hundred, nearly all
Indians, comprising, no doubt, many of those wandering families who
are never settled at particular spots on the banks of the Amazon or
its smaller tributaries.

The post at the island of the Ronde has been abandoned for some
years, and transferred to Tabatinga. It can thus be called a garrison
town, but the garrison is only composed of nine soldiers, nearly all
Indians, and a sergeant, who is the actual commandant of the place.

A bank about thirty feet high, in which are cut the steps of a not
very solid staircase, forms here the curtain of the esplanade which
carries the pigmy fort. The house of the commandant consists of a
couple of huts placed in a square, and the soldiers occupy an oblong
building a hundred feet away, at the foot of a large tree.

The collection of cabins exactly resembles all the villages and
hamlets which are scattered along the banks of the river, although in
them a flagstaff carrying the Brazilian colors does not rise above a
sentry-box, forever destitute of its sentinel, nor are four small
mortars present to cannonade on an emergency any vessel which does
not come in when ordered.

As for the village properly so called, it is situated below, at the
base of the plateau. A road, which is but a ravine shaded by ficuses
and miritis, leads to it in a few minutes. There, on a half-cracked
hill of clay, stand a dozen houses, covered with the leaves of the
"boiassu" palm placed round a central space.

All this is not very curious, but the environs of Tabatinga are
charming, particularly at the mouth of the Javary, which is of
sufficient extent to contain the Archipelago of the Aramasa Islands.
Hereabouts are grouped many fine trees, and among them a large number
of the palms, whose supple fibers are used in the fabrication of
hammocks and fishing-nets, and are the cause of some trade. To
conclude, the place is one of the most picturesque on the Upper
Amazon.

Tabatinga is destined to become before long a station of some
importance, and will no doubt rapidly develop, for there will stop
the Brazilian steamers which ascend the river, and the Peruvian
steamers which descend it. There they will tranship passengers and
cargoes. It does not require much for an English or American village
to become in a few years the center of considerable commerce.

The river is very beautiful along this part of its course. The
influence of ordinary tides is not perceptible at Tabatinga, which is
more than six hundred leagues from the Atlantic. But it is not so
with the "pororoca," that species of eddy which for three days in
the height of the syzygies raises the waters of the Amazon, and turns
them back at the rate of seventeen kilometers per hour. They say that
the effects of this bore are felt up to the Brazilian frontier.

On the morrow, the 26th of June, the Garral family prepared to go off
and visit the village. Though Joam, Benito, and Manoel had already
set foot in a Brazilian town, it was otherwise with Yaquita and her
daughter; for them it was, so to speak, a taking possession. It is
conceivable, therefore, that Yaquita and Minha should attach some
importance to the event.

If, on his part, Fragoso, in his capacity of wandering barber, had
already run through the different provinces of South America, Lina,
like her young mistress, had never been on Brazilian soil.

But before leaving the jangada Fragoso had sought Joam Garral, and
had the following conversation with him.

"Mr. Garral," said he, "from the day when you received me at the
fazenda of Iquitos, lodged, clothed, fed--in a word, took me in so
hospitably--I have owed you----"

"You owe me absolutely nothing, my friend," answered Joam, "so do not
insist----"

"Oh, do not be alarmed!" exclaimed Fragoso, "I am not going to pay it
off! Let me add, that you took me on board the jangada and gave me
the means of descending the river. But here we are, on the soil of
Brazil, which, according to all probability, I ought never to have
seen again. Without that liana----"

"It is to Lina, and to Lina alone, that you should tender your
thanks," said Joam.

"I know," said Fragoso, "and I will never forget what I owe here, any
more than what I owe you."

"They tell me, Fragoso," continued Joam, "that you are going to say
good-by, and intend to remain at Tabatinga."

"By no means, Mr. Garral, since you have allowed me to accompany you
to Belem, where I hope at the least to be able to resume my old
trade."

"Well, if that is your intention--what were you going to ask me?"

"I was going to ask if you saw any inconvenience in my working at my
profession on our route. There is no necessity for my hand to rust;
and, besides, a few handfuls of reis would not be so bad at the
bottom of my pocket, more particularly if I had earned them. You
know, Mr. Garral, that a barber who is also a hairdresser--and I
hardly like to say a doctor, out of respect to Mr. Manoel--always
finds customers in these Upper Amazon villages."

"Particularly among the Brazilians," answered Joam. "As for the
natives----"

"I beg pardon," replied Fragoso, "particularly among the natives. Ah!
although there is no beard to trim--for nature has been very stingy
toward them in that way--there are always some heads of hair to be
dressed in the latest fashion. They are very fond of it, these
savages, both the men and the women! I shall not be installed ten
minutes in the square at Tabatinga, with my cup and ball in hand--the
cup and ball I have brought on board, and which I can manage with
pretty pleasantly--before a circle of braves and squaws will have
formed around me. They will struggle for my favors. I could remain
here for a month, and the whole tribe of the Ticunas would come to me
to have their hair looked after! They won't hesitate to make the
acquaintance of 'curling tongs'--that is what they will call me--if I
revisit the walls of Tabatinga! I have already had two tries here,
and my scissors and comb have done marvels! It does not do to return
too often on the same track. The Indian ladies don't have their hair
curled every day, like the beauties of our Brazilian cities. No; when
it is done, it is done for year, and during the twelvemonth they will
take every care not to endanger the edifice which I have raised--with
what talent I dare not say. Now it is nearly a year since I was at
Tabatinga; I go to find my monuments in ruin! And if it is not
objectionable to you, Mr. Garral, I would render myself again worthy
of the reputation which I have acquired in these parts, the question
of reis, and not that of conceit, being, you understand, the
principal."

"Go on, then, friend, " replied Joam Garral laughingly; "but be
quick! we can only remain a day at Tabatinga, and we shall start
to-morrow at dawn."

"I will not lose a minute," answered Fragoso--"just time to take the
tools of my profession, and I am off."

"Off you go, Fragoso," said Joam, "and may the reis rain into your
pocket!"

"Yes, and that is a proper sort of rain, and there can never be too
much of it for your obedient servant."

And so saying Fragoso rapidly moved away.

A moment afterward the family, with the exception of Joam, went
ashore. The jangada was able to approach near enough to the bank for
the landing to take place without much trouble. A staircase, in a
miserable state, cut in the cliff, allowed the visitors to arrive on
the crest of the plateau.

Yaquita and her party were received by the commandant of the fort, a
poor fellow who, however, knew the laws of hospitality, and offered
them some breakfast in his cottage. Here and there passed and
repassed several soldiers on guard, while on the threshold of the
barrack appeared a few children, with their mothers of Ticuna blood,
affording very poor specimens of the mixed race.

In place of accepting the breakfast of the sergeant, Yaquita invited
the commandant and his wife to come and have theirs on board the
jangada.

The commandant did not wait for a second invitation, and an
appointment was made for eleven o'clock. In the meantime Yaquita, her
daughter, and the young mulatto, accompanied by Manoel, went for a
walk in the neighborhood, leaving Benito to settle with the
commandant about the tolls--he being chief of the custom-house as
well as of the military establishment.

That done, Benito, as was his wont, strolled off with his gun into
the adjoining woods. On this occasion Manoel had declined to
accompany him. Fragoso had left the jangada, but instead of mounting
to the fort he had made for the village, crossing the ravine which
led off from the right on the level of the bank. He reckoned more on
the native custom of Tabatinga than on that of the garrison.
Doubtless the soldiers' wives would not have wished better than to
have been put under his hands, but the husbands scarcely cared to
part with a few reis for the sake of gratifying the whims of their
coquettish partners.

Among the natives it was quite the reverse. Husbands and wives, the
jolly barber knew them well, and he knew they would give him a better
reception.

Behold, then, Fragoso on the road, coming up the shady lane beneath
the ficuses, and arriving in the central square of Tabatinga!

As soon as he set foot in the place the famous barber was signaled,
recognized, surrounded. Fragoso had no big box, nor drum, nor cornet
to attract the attention of his clients--not even a carriage of
shining copper, with resplendent lamps and ornamented glass panels,
nor a huge parasol, no anything whatever to impress the public, as
they generally have at fairs. No; but Fragoso had his cup and ball,
and how that cup and ball were manipulated between his fingers! With
what address did he receive the turtle's head, which did for the
ball, on the pointed end of the stick! With what grace did he make
the ball describe some learned curve of which mathematicians have not
yet calculated the value--even those who have determined the wondrous
curve of "the dog who follows his master!"

Every native was there--men, women, the old and the young, in their
nearly primitive costume, looking on with all their eyes, listening
with all their ears. The smiling entertainer, half in Portuguese,
half in Ticunian, favored them with his customary oration in a tone
of the most rollicking good humor. What he said was what is said by
all the charlatans who place their services at the public disposal,
whether they be Spanish Figaros or French perruqiers. At the bottom
the same self-possession, the same knowledge of human weakness, the
same description of threadbare witticisms, the same amusing
dexterity, and, on the part of the natives, the same wide-mouth
astonishment, the same curiosity, the same credulity as the simple
folk of the civilized world.

It followed, then, that ten minutes later the public were completely
won, and crowded round Fragoso, who was installed in a "loja" of
the place, a sort of serving-bar to the inn.

The loja belonged to a Brazilian settled at Tabatinga. There, for a
few vatems, which are the sols of the country, and worth about twenty
reis, or half a dozen centimes each, the natives could get drinks of
the crudest, and particularly assai, a liquor half-sold, half-liquid,
made of the fruit of the palm-tree, and drunk from a "coui" or
half-calabash in general use in this district of the Amazon.

And then men and women, with equal eagerness, took their places on
the barber's stool. The scissors of Fragoso had little to do, for it
was not a question of cutting these wealthy heads of hair, nearly all
remarkable for their softness and their quality, but the use to which
he could put his comb and the tongs, which were kept warming in the
corner in a brasier.

And then the encouragements of the artist to the crowd!

"Look here! look here!" said he; "how will that do, my friends--if
you don't sleep on the top of it! There you are, for a twelvemonth!
and these are the latest novelties from Belem and Rio de Janeiro! The
queen's maids of honor are not more cleverly decked out; and observe,
I am not stingy with the pomade!"

No, he was not stingy with it. True, it was only a little grease,
with which he had mixed some of the juices of a few flowers, but he
plaster it on like cement!

And as to the names of the capillary edifices--for the monuments
reared by the hands of Fragoso were of every order of
architecture--buckles, rings, clubs, tresses, crimpings, rolls,
corkscrews, curls, everything found there a place. Nothing false; no
towers, no chignons, no shams! These head were not enfeebled by
cuttings nor thinned by fallings-off, but were forests in all their
native virginity! Fragoso, however, was not above adding a few
natural flowers, to or three long fish-bones, and some fine bone or
copper ornaments, which were brought him b the dandies of the
district. Assuredly, the exquisites of the Directory would have
envied the arrangement of these high-art coiffures, three and four
stories high, and the great Leonard himself would have bowed before
his transatlantic rival.

And then the vatems, the handfuls of reis--the only coins for which
the natives of the Amazon exchange their goods--which rained into the
pocket of Fragoso, and which he collected with evident satisfaction.
But assuredly night would come before he could satisfy the demands of
the customers, who were so constantly renewed. It was not only the
population of Tabatinga which crowded to the door of the loja. The
news of the arrival of Fragoso was not slow to get abroad; natives
came to him from all sides: Ticunas from the left bank of the river,
Mayorunas from the right bank, as well as those who live on the
Cajuru and those who come from the villages of the Javary.

A long array of anxious ones formed itself in the square. The happy
ones coming from the hands of Fragoso went proudly from one house to
another, showed themselves off without daring to shake themselves,
like the big children that they were.

It thus happened that when noon came the much-occupied barber had not
had time to return on board, but had had to content himself with a
little assai, some manioc flour, and turtle eggs, which he rapidly
devoured between two applications of the curling-tongs.

But it was a great harvest for the innkeeper, as all the operations
could not be conducted without a large absorption of liquors drawn
from the cellars of the inn. In fact, it was an event for the town of
Tabatinga, this visit of the celebrated Fragoso, barber in ordinary
and extraordinary to the tribes of the Upper Amazon!

CHAPTER XIII. TORRES

AT FIVE O'CLOCK in the evening Fragoso was still there, and was
asking himself if he would have to pass the night on the spot to
satisfy the expectant crowd, when a stranger arrived in the square,
and seeing all t his native gathering, advanced toward the inn.

For some minutes the stranger eyed Fragoso attentively with some
circumspection. The examination was obviously satisfactory, for he
entered the loja.

He was a man about thirty-five years of age. He was dressed in a
somewhat elegant traveling costume, which added much to his personal
appearance. But his strong black beard, which the scissors had not
touched for some time, and his hair, a trifle long, imperiously
required the good offices of a barber.

"Good-day, friend, good-day!" said he, lightly striking Fragoso on
the shoulder.

Fragoso turned round when he heard the words pronounced in pure
Brazilian, and not in the mixed idiom of the natives.

"A compatriot?" he asked, without stopping the twisting of the
refractory mouth of a Mayouma head.

"Yes," answered the stranger. "A compatriot who has need of your
services."

"To be sure! In a minute," said Fragoso. "Wait till I have finished
with this lady!"

And this was done in a couple of strokes with the curling-tongs.

Although he was the last comer, and had no right to the vacant place,
he sat down on the stool without causing any expostulation on the
part of the natives who lost a turn.

Fragoso put down the irons for the scissors, and, after the manner of
his brethren, said:

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"Cut my beard and my hair," answered the stranger.

"All right!" said Fragoso, inserting his comb into the mass of hair.

And then the scissors to do their work.

"And you come from far?" asked Fragoso, who could not work without a
good deal to say.

"I have come from the neighborhood of Iquitos."

"So have I!" exclaimed Fragoso. "I have come down the Amazon from
Iquitos to Tabatinga. May I ask your name?"

"No objection at all," replied the stranger. "My name is Torres."

When the hair was cut in the latest style Fragoso began to thin his
beard, but at this moment, as he was looking straight into his face,
he stopped, then began again, and then:

"Eh! Mr. Torres," said he; "I seem to know you. We must have seen
each other somewhere?"

"I do not think so," quickly answered Torres.

"I am always wrong!" replied Fragoso, and he hurried on to finish his
task.

A moment after Torres continued the conversation which this question
of Fragoso had interrupted, with:

"How did you come from Iquitos?"

"From Iquitos to Tabatinga?"

"Yes."

"On board a raft, on which I was given a passage by a worther
fazender who is going down the Amazon with his family."

"A friend indeed!" replied Torres. "That is a chance, and if your
fazender would take me----"

"Do you intend, then, to go down the river?"

"Precisely."

"Into Para?"

"No, only to Manaos, where I have business."

"Well, my host is very kind, and I think he would cheerfully oblige
you."

"Do you think so?"

"I might almost say I am sure."

"And what is the name of this fazender?" asked Torres carelessly."

"Joam Garral," answered Fragoso.

And at the same time he muttered to himself:

"I certainly have seen this fellow somewhere!"

Torres was not the man to allow a conversation to drop which was
likely to interest him, and for very good reasons.

"And so you think Joam Garral would give me a passage?"

"I do not doubt it," replied Fragoso. "What he would do for a poor
chap like me he would not refuse to do for a compatriot like you."

"Is he alone on board the jangada?"

"No," replied Fragoso. "I wa going to tell you that he is traveling
with all his family--and jolly people they are, I assure you. He is
accompanied by a crew of Indians and negroes, who form part of the
staff at the fazenda."

"Is he rich?"

"Oh, certainly!" answered Fragoso--"very rich. Even the timber which
forms the jangada, and the cargo it carries, constitute a fortune!"

"The Joam Garral and his whole family have just passed the Brazilian
frontier?"

"Yes," said Fragoso; "his wife, his son, his daughter, and Miss
Minha's betrothed."

"Ah! he has a daughter?" said Torres.

"A charming girl!"

"Going to get married?"

"Yes, to a brave young fellow," replied Fragoso--"an army surgeon in
garrison at Belem, and the wedding is to take place as soon as we get
to the end of the voyage."

"Good!" said the smiling Torres; "it is what you might call a
betrothal journey."

"A voyage of betrothal, of pleasure, and of business!" said Fragoso.
"Madame Yaquita and her daughter have never set foot on Brazilian
ground; and as for Joam Garral, it is the first time he has crossed
the frontier since he went to the farm of old Magalhaës."

"I suppose," asked Torres, "that there are some servants with the
family?"

"Of course," replied Fragoso--"old Cybele, on the farm for the last
fifty years, and a pretty mulatto, Miss Lina, who is more of a
companion than a servant to her mistress. Ah, what an amiable
disposition! What a heart, and what eyes! And the ideas she has about
everything, particularly about lianas--" Fragoso, started on this
subject, would not have been able to stop himself, and Lina would
have been the object of a good many enthusiastic declarations, had
Torres not quitted the chair for another customer.

"What do I owe you?" asked he of the barber.

"Nothing," answered Fragoso. "Between compatriots, when they meet on
the frontier, there can be no question of that sort."

"But," replied Torres, "I want to----"

"Very well, we will settle that later on, on board the jangada."

"But I do not know that, and I do not like to ask Joam Garral to
allow me----"

"Do not hesitate!" exclaimed Fragoso; "I will speak to him if you
would like it better, and he will be very happy to be of use to you
under the circumstances."

And at that instant Manoel and Benito, coming into the town after
dinner, appeared at the door of the loja, wishing to see Fragoso at
work.

Torres turned toward them and suddenly said: "There are two gentlemen
I know--or rather I remember."

"You remember them!" asked Fragoso, surprised.

"Yes, undoubtedly! A month ago, in the forest of Iquitos, they got me
out of a considerable difficulty."

"But they are Benito Garral and Manoel Valdez."

"I know. They told me their names, but I never expected to see them
here."

Torres advanced toward the two young men, who looked at him without
recognizing him.

"You do not remember me, gentlemen?" he asked.

"Wait a little," answered Benito; "Mr. Torres, if I remember aright;
it was you who, in the forest of Iquitos, got into difficulties with
a guariba?"

"Quite true, gentlemen," replied Torres. "For six weeks I have been
traveling down the Amazon, and I have just crossed the frontier at
the same time as you have."

"Very pleased to see you again," said Benito; "but you have not
forgotten that you promised to come to the fazenda to my father?"

"I have not forgotten it," answered Torres.

"And you would have done better to have accepted my offer; it would
have allowed you to have waited for our departure, rested from you
fatigues, and descended with us to the frontier; so many days of
walking saved."

"To be sure!" answered Torres.

"Our compatriot is not going to stop at the frontier," said Fragoso,
"he is going on to Manaos."

"Well, then," replied Benito, "if you will come on board the jangada
you will be well received, and I am sure my father will give you a
passage."

"Willingly," said Torres; "and you will allow me to thank you in
advance."

Manoel took no part in the conversation; he let Benito make the offer
of his services, and attentively watched Torres, whose face he
scarcely remembered. There was an entire want of frankness in the
eyes, whose look changed unceasingly, as if he was afraid to fix them
anywhere. But Manoel kept this impression to himself, not wishing to
injure a compatriot whom they were about to oblige.

"Gentlemen," said Torres, "if you like, I am ready to follow you to
the landing-place."

"Come, then," answered Benito.

A quarter of an hour afterward Torres was on board the jangada.
Benito introduced him to Joam Garral, acquainting him with the
circumstances under which they had previously met him, and asked him
to give him a passage down to Manaos.

"I am happy, sir, to be able to oblige you," replied Joam.

"Thank you," said Torres, who at the moment of putting forth his hand
kept it back in spite of himself.

"We shall be off at daybreak to-morrow," added Joam Garral, "so you
had better get your things on board."

"Oh, that will not take me long!" answered Torres; "there is only
myself and nothing else!"

"Make yourself at home," said Joam Garral.

That evening Torres took possession of a cabin near to that of the
barber. It was not till eight o'clock that the latter returned to the
raft, and gave the young mulatto an account of his exploits, and
repeated, with no little vanity, that the renown of the illustrious
Fragoso was increasing in the basin of the Upper Amazon.

CHAPTER XIV. STILL DESCENDING

AT DAYBREAK on the morrow, the 27th of June, the cables were cast
off, and the raft continued its journey down the river.

An extra passenger was on board. Whence came this Torres? No one
exactly knew. Where was he going to? "To Manaos," he said. Torres was
careful to let no suspicion of his past life escape him, nor of the
profession that he had followed till within the last two months, and
no one would have thought that the jangada had given refuge to an old
captain of the woods. Joam Garral did not wish to mar the service he
was rendering by questions of too pressing a nature.

In taking him on board the fazender had obeyed a sentiment of
humanity. In the midst of these vast Amazonian deserts, more
especially at the time when the steamers had not begun to furrow the
waters, it was very difficult to find means of safe and rapid
transit. Boats did not ply regularly, and in most cases the traveler
was obliged to walk across the forests. This is what Torres had done,
and what he would continue to have done, and it was for him
unexpected good luck to have got a passage on the raft.

From the moment that Benito had explained under what conditions he
had met Torres the introduction was complete, and he was able to
consider himself as a passenger on an Atlantic steamer, who is free
to take part in the general life if he cares, or free to keep himself
a little apart if of an unsociable disposition.

It was noticed, at least during the first few days, that Torres did
not try to become intimate with the Garral family. He maintained a
good deal of reserve, answering if addressed, but never provoking a
reply.

If he appeared more open with any one, it was with Fragoso. Did he
not owe to this gay companion the idea of taking passage on board the
raft? Many times he asked him about the position of the Garrals at
Iquitos, the sentiments of the daughter for Manoel Valdez, and always
discreetly. Generally, when he was not walking alone in the bow of
the jangada, he kept to his cabin.

He breakfasted and dined with Joam Garral and his family, but he took
little part in their conversation, and retired when the repast was
finished.

During the morning the raft passed by the picturesque group of
islands situated in the vast estuary of the Javary. This important
affluent of the Amazon comes from the southwest, and from source to
mouth has not a single island, nor a single rapid, to check its
course. The mouth is about three thousand feet in width, and the
river comes in some miles above the site formerly occupied by the
town of the same name, whose possession was disputed for so long by
Spaniards and Portuguese.

Up to the morning of the 30th of June there had been nothing
particular to distinguish the voyage. Occasionally they met a few
vessels gliding along by the banks attached one to another in such a
way that a single Indian could manage the whole--"navigar de
bubina," as this kind of navigation is called by the people of the
country, that is to say, "confidence navigation."

They had passed the island of Araria, the Archipelago of the Calderon
islands, the island of Capiatu, and many others whose names have not
yet come to the knowledge of geographers.

On the 30th of June the pilot signaled on the right the little
village of Jurupari-Tapera, where they halted for two or three hours.

Manoel and Benito had gone shooting in the neighborhood, and brought
back some feathered game, which was well received in the larder. At
the same time they had got an animal of whom a naturalist would have
made more than did the cook.

It was a creature of a dark color, something like a large
Newfoundland dog.

"A great ant-eater!" exclaimed Benito, as he threw it on the deck of
the jangada.

"And a magnificent specimen which would not disgrace the collection
of a museum!" added Manoel.

"Did you take much trouble to catch the curious animal?" asked Minha.

"Yes, little sister," replied Benito, "and you were not there to ask
for mercy! These dogs die hard, and no less than three bullets were
necessary to bring this fellow down."

The ant-eater looked superb, with his long tail and grizzly hair;
with his pointed snout, which is plunged into the ant-hills whose
insects form its principal food; and his long, thin paws, armed with
sharp nails, five inches long, and which can shut up like the fingers
of one's hand. But what a hand was this hand of the ant-eater! When
it has got hold of anything you have to cut it off to make it let go!
It is of this hand that the traveler, Emile Carrey, has so justly
observed: "The tiger himself would perish in its grasp."

On the 2d of July, in the morning, the jangada arrived at the foot of
San Pablo d'Olivença, after having floated through the midst of
numerous islands which in all seasons are clad with verdure and
shaded with magnificent trees, and the chief of which bear the names
of Jurupari, Rita, Maracanatena, and Cururu Sapo. Many times they
passed by the mouths of iguarapes, or little affluents, with black
waters.

The coloration of these waters is a very curious phenomenon. It is
peculiar to a certain number of these tributaries of the Amazon,
which differ greatly in importance.

Manoel remarked how thick the cloudiness was, for it could be clearly
seen on the surface of the whitish waters of the river.

"They have tried to explain this coloring in many ways," said he,
"but I do not think the most learned have yet arrived at a
satisfactory explanation."

"The waters are really black with a magnificent reflection of gold,"
replied Minha, showing a light, reddish-brown cloth, which was
floating level with the jangada.

"Yes," said Manoel, "and Humboldt has already observed the curious
reflection that you have; but on looking at it attentively you will
see that it is rather the color of sepia which pervades the whole."

"Good!" exclaimed Benito. "Another phenomenon on which the savants
are not agreed."

"Perhaps," said Fragoso, "they might ask the opinions of the caymans,
dolphins, and manatees, for they certainly prefer the black waters to
the others to enjoy themselves in."

"They are particularly attractive to those animals," replied Manoel,
"but why it is rather embarrassing to say. For instance, is the
coloration due to the hydrocarbons which the waters hold in solution,
or is it because they flow through districts of peat, coal, and
anthracite; or should we not rather attribute it to the enormous
quantity of minute plants which they bear along? There is nothing
certain in the matter. Under any circumstances, they are excellent to
drink, of a freshness quite enviable for the climate, and without
after-taste, and perfectly harmless. Take a little of the water,
Minha, and drink it; you will find it all right."

The water is in truth limpid and fresh, and would advantageously
replace many of the table-waters used in Europe. They drew several
frasques for kitchen use.

It has been said that in the morning of the 2d of July the jangada
had arrived at San Pablo d'Olivença, where they turn out in thousands
those long strings of beads which are made from the scales of the
"coco de piassaba." This trade is here extensively followed. It
may, perhaps, seem singular that the ancient lords of the country,
Tupinambas and Tupiniquis, should find their principal occupation in
making objects for the Catholic religion. But, after all, why not?
These Indians are no longer the Indians of days gone by. Instead of
being clothed in the national fashion, with a frontlet of macaw
feathers, bow, and blow-tube, have they not adopted the American
costume of white cotton trousers, and a cotton poncho woven by their
wives, who have become thorough adepts in its manufacture?

San Pablo d'Olivença, a town of some importance, has not less than
two thousand inhabitants, derived from all the neighboring tribes. At
present the capital of the Upper Amazon, it began as a simple
Mission, founded by the Portuguese Carmelites about 1692, and
afterward acquired by the Jesuit missionaries.

From the beginning it has been the country of the Omaguas, whose name
means "flat-heads," and is derived from the barbarous custom of the
native mothers of squeezing the heads of their newborn children
between two plates, so as to give them an oblong skull, which was
then the fashion. Like everything else, that has changed; heads have
re-taken their natural form, and there is not the slightest trace of
the ancient deformity in the skulls of the chaplet-makers.

Every one, with the exception of Joam Garral, went ashore. Torres
also remained on board, and showed no desire to visit San Pablo
d'Olivença, which he did not, however, seem to be acquainted with.

Assuredly if the adventurer was taciturn he was not inquisitive.

Benito had no difficulty in doing a little bartering, and adding
slightly to the cargo of the jangada. He and the family received an
excellent reception from the principal authorities of the town, the
commandant of the place, and the chief of the custom-house, whose
functions did not in the least prevent them from engaging in trade.
They even intrusted the young merchant with a few products of the
country for him to dispose of on their account at Manaos and Belem.

The town is composed of some sixty houses, arranged on the plain
which hereabouts crowns the river-bank. Some of the huts are covered
with tiles--a very rare thing in these countries; but, on the other
hand, the humble church, dedicated to St. Peter and St. Paul, has
only a roof of straw, rather more appropriate for a stable of
Bethlehem than for an edifice consecrated to religion in one of the
most Catholic countries of the world.

The commandant, his lieutenant, and the head of the police accepted
an invitation to dine with the family, and they were received by Joam
Garral with the respect due to their rank.

During dinner Torres showed himself more talkative than usual. He
spoke about some of his excursions into the interior of Brazil like a
man who knew the country. But in speaking of these travels Torres did
not neglect to ask the commandant if he knew Manaos, if his colleague
would be there at this time, and if the judge, the first magistrate
of the province, was accustomed to absent himself at this period of
the hot season. It seemed that in putting this series of questions
Torres looked at Joam Garral. It was marked enough for even Benito to
notice it, not without surprise, and he observed that his father gave
particular attention to the questions so curiously propounded by
Torres.

The commandant of San Pablo d'Olivença assured the adventurer that
the authorities were not now absent from Manaos, and he even asked
Joam Garral to convey to them his compliments. In all probability the
raft would arrive before the town in seven weeks, or a little later,
say about the 20th or the 25th of August.

The guests of the fazender took leave of the Garral family toward the
evening, and the following morning, that of the 3d of July, the
jangada recommenced its descent of the river.

At noon they passed on the left the mouth of the Yacurupa. This
tributary, properly speaking, is a true canal, for it discharges its
waters into the Iça, which is itself an affluent of the Amazon.

A peculiar phenomenon, for the river displaces itself to feed its own
tributaries!

Toward three o'clock in the afternoon the giant raft passed the mouth
of the Jandiatuba, which brings its magnificent black waters from the
southwest, and discharges them into the main artery by a mouth of
four hundred meters in extent, after having watered the territories
of the Culino Indians.

A number of islands were breasted--Pimaicaira, Caturia, Chico,
Motachina; some inhabited, others deserted, but all covered with
superb vegetation, which forms an unbroken garland of green from one
end of the Amazon to the other.

CHAPTER XV. THE CONTINUED DESCENT

ON THE EVENING of the 5th of July, the atmosphere had been oppressive
since the morning and threatened approaching storms. Large bats of
ruddy color skimmed with their huge wings the current of the Amazon.
Among them could be distinguished the "perros voladors," somber
brown above and light-colored beneath, for which Minha, and
particularly the young mulatto, felt an instinctive aversion.

These were, in fact, the horrible vampires which suck the blood of
the cattle, and even attack man if he is imprudent enough to sleep
out in the fields.

"Oh, the dreadful creatures!" cried Lina, hiding her eyes; "they fill
me with horror!"

"And they are really formidable," added Minha; "are they not,
Manoel?"

"To be sure--very formidable," answered he. "These vampires have a
particular instinct which leads them to bleed you in the places where
the blood most easily comes, and principally behind the ear. During
the operation the continue to move their wings, and cause an
agreeable freshness which renders the sleep of the sleeper more
profound. They tell of people, unconsciously submitted to this
hemorrhage for many hours, who have never awoke!"

"Talk no more of things like that, Manoel," said Yaquita, "or neither
Minha nor Lina will dare sleep to-night."

"Never fear!" replied Manoel; "if necessary we will watch over them
as they sleep."

"Silence!" said Benito.

"What is the matter?" asked Manoel.

"Do you not hear a very curious noise on that side?" continued
Benito, pointing to the right bank.

"Certainly," answered Yaquita.

"What causes the noise?" asked Minha. "One would think it was shingle
rolling on the beach of the islands."

"Good! I know what it is," answered Benito. "Tomorrow, at daybreak,
there will be a rare treat for those who like fresh turtle eggs and
little turtles!"

He was not deceived; the noise was produced by innumerable chelonians
of all sizes, who were attracted to the islands to lay their eggs.

It is in the sand of the beach that these amphibians choose the most
convenient places to deposit their eggs. The operation commences with
sunset and finishes with the dawn.

At this moment the chief turtle had left the bed of the river to
reconnoiter for a favorable spot; the others, collected in thousands,
were soon after occupied in digging with their hind paddles a trench
six hundred feet long, a dozen wide, and six deep. After laying their
eggs they cover them with a bed of sand, which they beat down with
their carapaces as if they were rammers.

This egg-laying operation is a grand affair for the riverine Indians
of the Amazon and its tributaries. They watch for the arrival of the
chelonians, and proceed to the extraction of the eggs to the sound of
the drum; and the harvest is divided into three parts--one to the
watchers, another to the Indians, a third to the state, represented
by the captains of the shore, who, in their capacity of police, have
to superintend the collection of the dues. To certain beaches which
the decrease of the waters has left uncovered, and which have the
privilege of attracting the greater number of turtles, there has been
given the name of "royal beaches." When the harvest is gathered it is
a holiday for the Indians, who give themselves up to games, dancing,
and drinking; and it is also a holiday for the alligators of the
river, who hold high revelry on the remains of the amphibians.

Turtles, or turtle eggs, are an object of very considerable trade
throughout the Amazonian basin. It is these chelonians whom they
"turn"--that is to say, put on their backs--when they come from
laying their eggs, and whom they preserve alive, keeping them in
palisaded pools like fish-pools, or attaching them to a stake by a
cord just long enough to allow them to go and come on the land or
under the water. In this way they always have the meat of these
animals fresh.

They proceed differently with the little turtles which are just
hatched. There is no need to pack them or tie them up. Their shell is
still soft, their flesh extremely tender, and after they have cooked
them they eat them just like oysters. In this form large quantities
are consumed.

However, this is not the most general use to which the chelonian eggs
are put in the provinces of Amazones and Para. The manufacture of
"manteigna de tartaruga," or turtle butter, which will bear
comparison with the best products of Normandy or Brittany, does not
take less every year that from two hundred and fifty to three hundred
millions of eggs. But the turtles are innumerable all along the
river, and they deposit their eggs on the sands of the beach in
incalculable quantities. However, on account of the destruction
caused not only by the natives, but by the water-fowl from the side,
the urubus in the air, and the alligators in the river, their number
has been so diminished that for every little turtle a Brazilian
pataque, or about a franc, has to be paid.

On the morrow, at daybreak, Benito, Fragoso, and a few Indians took a
pirogue and landed on the beach of one of the large islands which
they had passed during the night. It was not necessary for the
jangada to halt. They knew they could catch her up.

On the shore they saw the little hillocks which indicated the places
where, that very night, each packet of eggs had been deposited in the
trench in groups of from one hundred and sixty to one hundred and
ninety. These there was no wish to get out. But an earlier laying had
taken place two months before, the eggs had hatched under the action
of the heat stored in the sand, and already several thousands of
little turtles were running about the beach.

The hunters were therefore in luck. The pirogue was filled with these
interesting amphibians, and they arrived just in time for breakfast.
The booty was divided between the passengers and crew of the jangada,
and if any lasted till the evening it did not last any longer.

In the morning of the 7th of July they were before San Jose de
Matura, a town situated near a small river filled up with long grass,
and on the borders of which a legend says that Indians with tails
once existed.

In the morning of the 8th of July they caught sight of the village of
San Antonio, two or three little houses lost in the trees at the
mouth of the Iça, or Putumayo, which is about nine hundred meters
wide.

The Putumayo is one of the most important affluents of the Amazon.
Here in the sixteenth century missions were founded by the Spaniards,
which were afterward destroyed by the Portuguese, and not a trace of
them now remains.

Representatives of different tribes of Indians are found in the
neighborhood, which are easily recognizable by the differences in
their tattoo marks.

The Iça is a body of water coming from the east of the Pasto
Mountains to the northeast of Quito, through the finest forests of
wild cacao-trees. Navigable for a distance of a hundred and forty
leagues for steamers of not greater draught than six feet, it may one
day become one of the chief waterways in the west of America.

The bad weather was at last met with. It did not show itself in
continual rains, but in frequent storms. These could not hinder the
progress of the raft, which offered little resistance to the wind.
Its great length rendered it almost insensible to the swell of the
Amazon, but during the torrential showers the Garral family had to
keep indoors. They had to occupy profitably these hours of leisure.
They chatted together, communicated their observations, and their
tongues were seldom idle.

It was under these circumstances that little by little Torres had
begun to take a more active part in the conversation. The details of
his many voyages throughout the whole north of Brazil afforded him
numerous subjects to talk about. The man had certainly seen a great
deal, but his observations were those of a skeptic, and he often
shocked the straightforward people who were listening to him. IT
should be said that he showed himself much impressed toward Minha.
But these attentions, although they were displeasing to Manoel, were
not sufficiently marked for him to interfere. On the other hand,
Minha felt for him an instinctive repulsion which she was at no pains
to conceal.

On the 5th of July the mouth of the Tunantins appeared on the left
bank, forming an estuary of some four hundred feet across, in which
it pours its blackish waters, coming from the west-northwest, after
having watered the territories of the Cacena Indians. At this spot
the Amazon appears under a truly grandiose aspect, but its course is
more than ever encumbered with islands and islets. It required all
the address of the pilot to steer through the archipelago, going from
one bank to another, avoiding the shallows, shirking the eddies, and
maintaining the advance.

They might have taken the Ahuaty Parana, a sort of natural canal,
which goes off a little below the mouth of the Tunantins, and
re-enters the principal stream a hundred an twenty miles further on
by the Rio Japura; but if the larger portion of this measures a
hundred and fifty feet across, the narrowest is only sixty feet, and
the raft would there have met with a difficulty.

On the 13th of July, after having touched at the island of Capuro,
passed the mouth of the Jutahy, which, coming from the
east-southeast, brings in its black waters by a mouth five hundred
feet wide, and admired the legions of monkeys, sulphur-white in
color, with cinnabar-red faces, who are insatiable lovers of the nuts
produced by the palm-trees from which the river derives its name, the
travelers arrived on the 18th of July before the little village of
Fonteboa.

At this place the jangada halted for twelve hours, so as to give a
rest to the crew.

Fonteboa, like most of the mission villages of the Amazon, has not
escaped the capricious fate which, during a lengthened period, moves
them about from one place to the other. Probably the hamlet has now
finished with its nomadic existence, and has definitely become
stationary. So much the better; for it is a charming place, with its
thirty houses covered with foliage, and its church dedicated to Notre
Dame de Guadaloupe, the Black Virgin of Mexico. Fonteboa has one
thousand inhabitants, drawn from the Indians on both banks, who rear
numerous cattle in the fields in the neighborhood. These occupations
do not end here, for they are intrepid hunters, or, if they prefer
it, intrepid fishers for the manatee.

On the morning of their arrival the young fellows assisted at a very
interesting expedition of this nature. Two of these herbivorous
cetaceans had just been signaled in the black waters of the Cayaratu,
which comes in at Fonteboa. Six brown points were seen moving along
the surface, and these were the two pointed snouts and four pinions
of the lamantins.

Inexperienced fishermen would at first have taken these moving points
for floating wreckage, but the natives of Fonteboa were not to be so
deceived. Besides, very soon loud blowings indicated that the
spouting animals were vigorously ejecting the air which had become
useless for their breathing purposes.

Two ubas, each carrying three fishermen, set off from the bank and
approached the manatees, who soon took flight. The black points at
first traced a long furrow on the top of the water, and then
disappeared for a time.

The fishermen continued their cautious advance. One of them, armed
with a very primitive harpoon--a long nail at the end of a
stick--kept himself in the bow of the boat, while the other two
noiselessly paddled on. They waited till the necessity of breathing
would bring the manatees up again. In ten minutes or thereabouts the
animals would certainly appear in a circle more or less confined.

In fact, this time had scarcely elapsed before the black points
emerged at a little distance, and two jets of air mingled with vapor
were noiselessly shot forth.

The ubas approached, the harpoons were thrown at the same instant;
one missed its mark, but the other struck one of the cetaceans near
his tail.

It was only necessary to stun the animal, who rarely defends himself
when touched by the iron of the harpoon. In a few pulls the cord
brought him alongside the uba, and he was towed to the beach at the
foot of the village.

It was not a manatee of any size, for it only measured about three
feet long. These poor cetaceans have been so hunted that they have
become very rare in the Amazon and its affluents, and so little time
is left them to grow that the giants of the species do not now exceed
seven feet. What are these, after manatees twelve and fifteen feet
long, which still abound in the rivers and lakes of Africa?

But it would be difficult to hinder their destruction. The flesh of
the manatee is excellent, superior even to that of pork, and the oil
furnished by its lard, which is three inches thick, is a product of
great value. When the meat is smoke-dried it keeps for a long time,
and is capital food. If to this is added that the animal is easily
caught, it is not to be wondered at that the species is on its way to
complete destruction.

On the 19th of July, at sunrise, the jangada left Fonteboa, and
entered between the two completely deserted banks of the river, and
breasted some islands shaded with the grand forests of cacao-trees.
The sky was heavily charged with electric cumuli, warning them of
renewed storms.

The Rio Jurua, coming from the southwest, soon joins the river on the
left. A vessel can go up it into Peru without encountering
insurmountable obstacles among its white waters, which are fed by a
great number of petty affluents.

"It is perhaps in these parts," said Manoel, "that we ought to look
for those female warriors who so much astonished Orellana. But we
ought to say that, like their predecessors, they do nor form separate
tribes; they are simply the wives who accompany their husbands to the
fight, and who, among the Juruas, have a great reputation for
bravery."

The jangada continued to descend; but what a labyrinth the Amazon now
appeared! The Rio Japura, whose mouth was forty-eight miles on ahead,
and which is one of its largest tributaries, runs almost parallel
with the river.

Between them were canals, iguarapes, lagoons, temporary lakes, an
inextricable network which renders the hydrography of this country so
difficult.

But if Araujo had no map to guide him, his experience served him more
surely, and it was wonderful to see him unraveling the chaos, without
ever turning aside from the main river.

In fact, he did so well that on the 25th of July, in the afternoon,
after having passed before the village of Parani-Tapera, the raft was
anchored at the entrance of the Lake of Ego, or Teffe, which it was
useless to enter, for they would not have been able to get out of it
again into the Amazon.

But the town of Ega is of some importance; it was worthy of a halt to
visit it. It was arranged, therefore, that the jangada should remain
on this spot till the 27th of July, and that on the morrow the large
pirogue should take the whole family to Ega. This would give a rest,
which was deservedly due to the hard-working crew of the raft.

The night passed at the moorings near a slightly rising shore, and
nothing disturbed the quiet. A little sheet-lightning was observable
on the horizon, but it came from a distant storm which did not reach
the entrance to the lake.

CHAPTER XVI. EGA

AT SIX o'clock in the morning of the 20th of July, Yaquita, Minha,
Lina, and the two young men prepared to leave the jangada.

Joam Garral, who had shown no intention of putting his foot on shore,
had decided this time, at the request of the ladies of his family, to
leave his absorbing daily work and accompany them on their excursion.
Torres had evinced no desire to visit Ega, to the great satisfaction
of Manoel, who had taken a great dislike to the man and only waited
for an opportunity to declare it.

As to Fragoso, he could not have the same reason for going to Ega as
had taken him to Tabatinga, which is a place of little importance
compared to this.

Ega is a chief town with fifteen hundred inhabitants, and in it
reside all those authorities which compose the administration of a
considerable city--considerable for the country; that is to say, the
military commandant, the chief of the police, the judges, the
schoolmaster, and troops under the command of officers of all ranks.

With so many functionaries living in a town, with their wives and
children, it is easy to see that hair-dressers would be in demand.
Such was the case, and Fragoso would not have paid his expenses.

Doubtless, however, the jolly fellow, who could do no business in
Ega, had thought to be of the party if Lina went with her mistress,
but, just as they were leaving the raft, he resolved to remain, at
the request of Lina herself.

"Mr. Fragoso!" she said to him, after taking him aside.

"Miss Lina?" answered Fragoso.

"I do not think that your friend Torres intends to go with us to
Ega."

"Certainly not, he is going to stay on board, Miss Lina, but you wold
oblige me by not calling him my friend!"

"But you undertook to ask a passage for him before he had shown any
intention of doing so."

"Yes, and on that occasion, if you would like to know what I think, I
made a fool of myself!"

"Quite so! and if you would like to know what I think, I do not like
the man at all, Mr. Fragoso."

"Neither do I, Miss Lina, and I have all the time an idea that I have
seen him somewhere before. But the remembrance is too vague; the
impression, however, is far from being a pleasant one!"

"Where and when could you have met him? Cannot you call it to mind?
It might be useful to know who he is and what he has been."

"No--I try all I can. How long was it ago? In what country? Under
what circumstances? And I cannot hit upon it."

"Mr. Fragoso!"

"Miss Lina!"

"Stay on board and keep watch on Torres during our absence!"

"What? Not go with you to Ega, and remain a whole day without seeing
you?"

"I ask you to do so!"

"Is it an order?"

"It is an entreaty!"

"I will remain!"

"Mr. Fragoso!"

"Miss Lina!"

"I thank you!"

"Thank me, then, with a good shake of the hand," replied Fragoso;
"that is worth something."

Lina held out her hand, and Fragoso kept it for a few moments while
he looked into her face. And that is the reason why he did not take
his place in the pirogue, and became, without appearing to be, the
guard upon Torres.

Did the latter notice the feelings of aversion with which he was
regarded? Perhaps, but doubtless he had his reasons for taking no
account of them.

A distance of four leagues separated the mooring-place from the town
of Ega. Eight leagues, there and back, in a pirogue containing six
persons, besides two negroes as rowers, would take some hours, not to
mention the fatigue caused by the high temperature, though the sky
was veiled with clouds.

Fortunately a lovely breeze blew from the northwest, and if it held
would be favorable for crossing Lake Teffe. They could go to Ega and
return rapidly without having to tack.

So the lateen sail was hoisted on the mast of the pirogue. Benito
took the tiller, and off they went, after a last gesture from Lina to
Fragoso to keep his eyes open.

The southern shore of the lake had to be followed to get to Ega.

After two hours the pirogue arrived at the port of this ancient
mission founded by the Carmelites, which became a town in 1759, and
which General Gama placed forever under Brazilian rule.

The passengers landed on a flat beach, on which were to be found not
only boats from the interior, but a few of those little schooners
which are used in the coasting-trade on the Atlantic seaboard.

When the two girls entered Ega they were at first much astonished.

"What a large town!" said Minha.

"What houses! what people!" replied Lina, whose eyes seemed to have
expanded so that she might see better.

"Rather!" said Benito laughingly. "More than fifteen hundred
inhabitants! Two hundred houses at the very least! Some of them with
a first floor! And two or three streets! Genuine streets!"

"My dear Manoel!" said Minha, "do protect us against my brother! He
is making fun of us, and only because he had already been in the
finest towns in Amazones and Para!"

"Quite so, and he is also poking fun at his mother," added Yaquita,
"for I confess I never saw anything equal to this!"

"Then, mother and sister, you must take great care that you do not
fall into a trance when you get to Manaos, and vanish altogether when
you reach Belem!"

"Never fear," answered Manoel; "the ladies will have been gently
prepared for these grand wonders by visiting the principal cities of
the Upper Amazon!"

"Now, Manoel," said Minha, "you are talking just like my brother! Are
you making fun of us, too?"

"No, Minha, I assure you."

"Laugh on, gentlemen," said Lina, "and let us look around, my dear
mistress, for it is very fine!"

Very fine! A collection of houses, built of mud, whitewashed, and
principally covered with thatch or palm-leaves; a few built of stone
or wood, with verandas, doors, and shutters painted a bright green,
standing in the middle of a small orchard of orange-trees in flower.
But there were two or three public buildings, a barrack, and a church
dedicated to St. Theresa, which was a cathedral by the side of the
modest chapel at Iquitos. On looking toward the lake a beautiful
panorama unfolded itself, bordered by a frame of cocoanut-trees and
assais, which ended at the edge of the liquid level, and showed
beyond the picturesque village of Noqueira, with its few small houses
lost in the mass of the old olive-trees on the beach.

But for the two girls there was another cause of wonderment, quite
feminine wonderment too, in the fashions of the fair Egans, not the
primitive costume of the natives, converted Omaas or Muas, but the
dress of true Brazilian ladies. The wives and daughters of the
principal functionaries and merchants o the town pretentiously showed
off their Parisian toilettes, a little out of date perhaps, for Ega
is five hundred leagues away from Para, and this is tiself many
thousands of miles from Paris.

"Just look at those fine ladies in their fine slothes!"

"Lina will go mad!" exclaimed Benito.

"If those dresses were worn properly," said Minha, "they might not be
so ridiculous!"

"My dear Minha," said Manoel, "with your simple gown and straw hat,
you are better dressed than any one of these Brazilians, with their
headgear and flying petticoats, which are foreign to their country
and their race."

"If it pleases you to think so," answered Minha, "I do not envy any
of them."

But they had come to see. They walked through the streets, which
contained more stalls than shops; they strolled about the
market-place, the rendezvous of the fashionable, who were nearly
stifled in their European clothes; they even breakfasted at an
hotel--it was scarcely an inn--whose cookery caused them to deeply
regret the excellent service on the raft.

After dinner, at which only turtle flesh, served up in different
forms, appeared, the Garral family went for the last time to admire
the borders of the lake as the setting sun gilded it with its rays;
then they rejoined their pirogue, somewhat disillusioned perhaps as
to the magnificence of a town which one hour would give time enough
to visit, and a little tired with walking about its stifling streets
which were not nearly so pleasant as the shady pathways of Iquitos.
The inquisitive Lina's enthusiasm alone had not been damped.

They all took their places in the pirogue. The wind remained in the
northwest, and had freshened with the evening. The sail was hoisted.
They took the same course as in the morning, across the lake fed by
the black waters of the Rio Teffe, which, according to the Indians,
is navigable toward the southwest for forty days' journey. At eight
o'clock the priogue regained the mooring-place and hailed the
jangada.

As soon as Lina could get Fragoso aside--

"Have you seen anything suspicious?" she inquired.

"Nothing, Miss Lina," he replied; "Torres has scarcely left hi cabin,
where he has been reading and writing."

"He did not get into the house or the dining-room, as I feared?"

"No, all the time he was not in his cabin he was in the bow of the
raft."

"And what was he doing?"

"Holding an old piece of paper in his hand, consulting it with great
attention, and muttering a lot of incomprehensible words."

"All that is not so unimportant as you think, Mr. Fragoso. These
readings and writings and old papers have their interest! He is
neither a professor nor a lawyer, this reader and writer!"

"You are right!"

"Still watch him, Mr. Fragoso!"

"I will watch him always, Miss Lina," replied Fragoso.

On the morrow, the 27th of July, at daybreak, Benito gave the pilot
the signal to start.

Away between the islands, in the Bay of Arenapo, the mouth of the
Japura, six thousand six hundred feet wide, was seen for an instant.
This large tributary comes into the Amazon through eight mouths, as
if it were pouring into some gulf or ocean. But its waters come from
afar, and it is the mountains of the republic of Ecuador which start
them on a course that there are no falls to break until two hundred
and ten leagues from its junction with the main stream.

All this day was spent in descending to the island of Yapura, after
which the river, less interfered with, makes navigation much easier.
The current is not so rapid and the islets are easily avoided, so
that there were no touchings or groundings.

The next day the jangada coasted along by vast beaches formed by
undulating high domes, which served as the barriers of immense
pasture grounds, in which the whole of the cattle in Europe could be
raised and fed. These sand banks are considered to be the richest
turtle grounds in the basin of the Upper Amazon.

On the evening of the 29th of July they were securely moored off the
island of Catua, so as to pass the night, which promised to be dark.

On this island, as soon as the sun rose above the horizon, there
appeared a party of Muras Indians, the remains of that ancient and
powerful tribe, which formerly occupied more than a hundred leagues
of the river bank between the Teffe and the Madeira.

These Indians went and came, watching the raft, which remained
stationary. There were about a hundred of them armed with blow-tubes
formed of a reed peculiar to these parts, and which is strengthened
outside by the stem of a dwarf palm from which the pith has been
extracted.

Joam Garral quitted for an instand the work which took up all his
time, to warn his people to keep a good guard and not to provoke
these Indians.

In truth the sides were not well matched. The Muras are remarkably
clever at sending through their blow-tubes arrows which cause
incurable wounds, even at a range of three hundred paces.

These arrows, made of the leaf of the "coucourite" palm, are
feathered with cotton, and nine or ten inches long, with a point like
a needle, and poisoned with "curare."

Curare, or "wourah," the liquor "which kills in a whisper," as the
Indians say, is prepared from the sap of one of the euphorbiaceæ and
the juice of a bulbous strychnos, not to mention the paste of
venomous ants and poisonous serpent fangs which they mix with it.

"It is indeed a terrible poison," said Manoel. "It attacks at once
those nerves by which the movements are subordinated to the will. But
the heart is not touched, and it does not cease to beat until the
extinction of the vital functions, and besides no antidote is known
to the poison, which commences by numbness of the limbs."

Very fortunately, these Muras made no hostile demonstrations,
although they entertain a profound hatred toward the whites. They
have, in truth, no longer the courage of their ancestors.

At nightfall a five-holed flute was heard behind the trees in the
island, playing several airs in a minor key. Another flute answered.
This interchange of musical phrases lasted for two or three minutes,
and the Muras disappeared.

Fragoso, in an exuberant moment, had tried to reply by a song in his
own fashion, but Lina had clapped her hand on his mouth, and
prevented his showing off his insignificant singing talents, which he
was so willingly lavish of.

On the 2d of August, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the raft
arrived twenty leagues away from there at Lake Apoara, which is fed
by the black waters of the river of the same name, and two days
afterward, about five o'clock, it stopped at the entrance into Lake
Coary.

This lake is one of the largest which communicates with the Amazon,
and it serves as a reservoir for different rivers. Five or six
affluents run into it, and there are stored and mixed up, and emerge
by a narrow channel into the main stream.

After catching a glimpse of the hamlet of Tahua-Miri, mounted on its
piles as on stilts, as a protection against inundation from the
floods, which often sweep up over these low sand banks, the raft was
moored for the night.

The stoppage was made in sight of the village of Coary, a dozen
houses, considerably dilapidated, built I the midst of a thick mass
of orange and calabash trees.

Nothing can be more changeable than the aspect of this village, for
according to the rise or fall of the water the lake stretches away on
all sides of it, or is reduced to a narrow canal, scarcely deep
enough to communicate with the Amazon.

On the following morning, that of the 5th of August, they started at
dawn, passing the canal of Yucura, belonging to the tangled system of
lakes and furos of the Rio Zapura, and on the morning of the 6th of
August they reached the entrance to Lake Miana.

No fresh incident occurred in the life on board, which proceeded with
almost methodical regularity.

Fragoso, urged on by Lina, did not cease to watch Torres.

Many times he tried to get him to talk about his past life, but the
adventurer eluded all conversation on the subject, and ended by
maintaining a strict reserve toward the barber.

After catching a glimpse of the hamlet of Tahua-Miri, mounted on its
piles as on stilts, as a protection against inundation from the
floods, which often sweep up and over these low sand banks, the raft
was moored for the night.

His intercourse with the Garral family remained the same. If he spoke
little to Joam, he addressed himself more willingly to Yaquita and
her daughter, and appeared not to notice the evident coolness with
which he was received. They all agreed that when the raft arrived at
Manaos, Torres should leave it, and that they would never speak of
him again. Yaquita followed the advice of Padre Passanha, who
counseled patience, but the good priest had not such an easy task in
Manoel, who was quite disposed to put on shore the intruder who had
been so unfortunately taken on to the raft.

The only thing that happened on this evening was the following:

A pirogue, going down the river, came alongside the jangada, after
being hailed by Joam Garral.

"Are you going to Manaos?" askee he of the Indian who commanded and
was steering her.

"Yes," replied he.

"When will you get there?"

"In eight days."

"Then you will arrive before we shall. Will you deliver a letter for
me?"

"With pleasure."

"Take this letter, then, my friend, and deliver it at Manaos."

The Indian took the letter which Joam gave him, and a handful of reis
was the price of the commission he had undertaken.

No members of the family, then gone into the house, knew anything of
this. Torres was the only witness. He heard a few words exchanged
between Joam and the Indian, and from the cloud which passed over his
face it was easy to see that the sending of this letteer considerably
surprised him.

CHAPTER XVII. AT 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 aafraid, 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 myeterious 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
remunierative, 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 bst 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 doze 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 animals 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 chock
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.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE ARRIVAL DINNER

IN THE MORNING, after a night which was scarcely sufficient to calm
so much excitement, they unmoored from the cayman beach and departed.
Before five days, if nothing intervered with their voyage, the raft
would reach the port of Manaos.

Minha had quite recovered from her fright, and her eyes and smiles
thanked all those who had risked their lives for her.

As for Lina, it seemed as though she was more grateful to the brave
Fragoso than if it was herself that he had saved.

"I will pay you back, sooner or later, Mr. Fragoso," said she,
smiling.

"And how, Miss Lina?"

"Oh! You know very well!"

"Then if I know it, let it be soon and not late!" replied the
good-natured fellow.

And from this day it began to be whispered about that the charming
Lina was engaged to Fragoso, that their marriage would take place at
the same time as that of Minha and Manoel, and that the young couple
would remain at Belem with the others.

"Capital! capital!" repeated Fragoso unceasingly; "but I never
thought Para was such a long way off!"

As for Manoel and Benito, they had had a long conversation about what
had passed. There could be no question about obtaining from Joam
Garral the dismissal of his rescuer.

"Your life is precious to me above all things!" Torres had said.

This reply, hyperbolical and enigmatical at the time, Benito had
heard and remembered.

In the meantime the young men could do nothing. More than ever they
were reduced to waiting--to waiting not for four or five days, but
for seven or eight weeks--that is to say, for whatever time it would
take for the raft to get to Belem.

"There is in all this some mystery that I cannot understand," said
Benito.

"Yes, but we are assured on one point," answered Manoel. "It is
certain that Torres does not want your father's life. For the rest,
we must still watch!"

It seemed that from this day Torres desired to keep himself more
reserved. He did not seek to intrude on the family, and was even less
assiduous toward Minha. There seemed a relief in the situation of
which all, save perhaps Joam Garral, felt the gravity.

On the evening of the same day they left on the right the island of
Baroso, formed by a furo of that name, and Lake Manaori, which is fed
by a confused series of petty tributaries.

The night passed without incident, though Joam Garral had advised
them to watch with great care.

On the morrow, the 20th of August, the pilot, who kept near the right
bank on account of the uncertain eddies on the left, entered between
the bank and the islands.

Beyond this bank the country was dotted with large and small lakes,
much as those of Calderon, Huarandeina, and other black-watered
lagoons. This water system marks the approach of the Rio Negro, the
most remarkable of all the tributaries of the Amazon. In reality the
main river still bore the name of the Solimoens, and it is only after
the junction of the Rio Negro that it takes the name which has made
it celebrated among the rivers of the globe.

During this day the raft had to be worked under curious conditions.

The arm followed by the pilot, between Calderon Island and the shore,
was very narrow, although it appeared sufficiently large. This was
owing to a great portion of the island being slightly above the mean
level, but still covered by the high flood waters. On each side were
massed forests of giant trees, whose summits towered some fifty feet
above the ground, and joining one bank to the other formed an immense
cradle.

On the left nothing could be more picturesque than this flooded
forest, which seemed to have been planted in the middle of a lake.
The stems of the trees arose from the clear, still water, in which
every interlacement of their boughs was reflected with unequaled
purity. They were arranged on an immense sheet of glass, like the
trees in miniature on some table epergne, and their reflection
could not be more perfect. The difference between the image and the
reality could scarcely be described. Duplicates of grandeur,
terminated above and below by a vast parasol of green, they seemed to
form two hemispheres, inside which the jangada appeared to follow one
of the great circles.

It had been necessary to bring the raft under these boughs, against
which flowed the gentle current of the stream. It was impossible to
go back. Hence the task of navigating with extreme care, so as to
avoid the collisions on either side.

In this all Araujo's ability was shown, and he was admirably seconded
by his crew. The trees of the forest furnished the resting-places for
the long poles which kept the jangada in its course. The least blow
to the jangada would have endangered the complete demolition of the
woodwork, and caused the loss, if not of the crew, of the greater
part of the cargo.

"It is truly very beautiful," said Minha, "and it would be very
pleasant for us always to travel in this way, on this quiet water,
shaded from the rays of the sun."

"At the same time pleasant and dangerous, dear Minha," said Manoel.
"In a pirogue there is doubtless nothing to fear in sailing here, but
on a huge raft of wood better have a free course and a clear stream."

"We shall be quite through the forest in a couple of hours," said the
pilot.

"Look well at it, then!" said Lina. "All these beautiful things pass
so quickly! Ah! dear mistress! do you see the troops of monkeys
disporting in the higher branches, and the birds admiring themselves
in the pellucid water!"

"And the flowers half-opened on the surface," replied Minha, "and
which the current dandles like the breeze!"

"And the long lianas, which so oddly stretch from one tree to
another!" added the young mulatto.

"And no Fragoso at the end of them!" said Lina's betrothed. "That was
rather a nice flower you gathered in the forest of Iquitos!"

"Just behold the flower--the only one in the world," said Lina
quizzingly; "and, mistress! just look at the splendid plants!"

And Lina pointed to the nymphæas with their colossal leaves, whose
flowers bear buds as large as cocoanuts. Then, just where the banks
plunged beneath the waters, there were clumps of "mucumus," reeds
with large leaves, whose elastic stems bend to give passage to the
pirogues and close again behind them. There was there what would
tempt any sportsman, for a whole world of aquatic birds fluttered
between the higher clusters, which shook with the stream.

Ibises half-lollingly posed on some old trunk, and gray herons
motionless on one leg, solemn flamingoes who from a distance looked
like red umbrellas scattered in the foliage, and phenicopters of
every color, enlivened the temporary morass.

And along the top of the water glided long and swiftly-swimming
snakes, among them the formidable gymnotus, whose electric discharges
successively repeated paralyze the most robust of men or animals, and
end by dealing death. Precautions had to be taken against the
"sucurijus" serpents, which, coiled round the trunk of some tree,
unroll themselves, hang down, seize their prey, and draw it into
their rings, which are powerful enough to crush a bullock. Have there
not been met with in these Amazonian forests reptiles from thirty to
thirty-five feet long? and even, according to M. Carrey, do not some
exist whose length reaches forty-seven feet, and whose girth is that
of a hogshead?

Had one of these sucurijus, indeed, got on to the raft he would have
proved as formidable as an alligator.

Very fortunately the travelers had to contend with neither gymnotus
nor sucuriju, and the passage across the submerged forest, which
lasted about two hours, was effected without accident.

Three days passed. They neared Manaos. Twenty-four hours more and the
raft would be off the mouth of the Rio Negro, before the capital of
the province of Amazones.

In fact, on the 23d of August, at five o'clock in the evening, they
stopped at the southern point of Muras Island, on the right bank of
the stream. They only had to cross obliquely for a few miles to
arrive at the port, but the pilot Araujo very properly would not risk
it on that day, as night was coming on. The three miles which
remained would take three hours to travel, and to keep to the course
of the river it was necessary, above all things, to have a clear
outlook.

This evening the dinner, which promised to be the last of this first
part of the voyage, was not served without a certain amount of
ceremony. Half the journey on the Amazon had been accomplished, and
the task was worthy of a jovial repast. It was fitting to drink to
the health of Amazones a few glasses of that generous liquor which
comes from the coasts of Oporto and Setubal. Besides, this was, in a
way, the betrothal dinner of Fragoso and the charming Lina--that of
Manoel and Minha had taken place at the fazenda of Iquitos several
weeks before. After the young master and mistress, it was the turn of
the faithful couple who were attached to them by so many bonds of
gratitude.

So Lina, who was to remain in the service of Minha, and Fragoso, who
was about to enter into that of Manoel Valdez, sat at the common
table, and even had the places of honor reserved for them.

Torres, naturally, was present at the dinner, which was worthy of the
larder and kitchen of the jangada.

The adventurer, seated opposite to Joam Garral, who was always
taciturn, listened to all that was said, but took no part in the
conversation. Benito quietly and attentively watched him. The eyes of
Torres, with a peculiar expression, constantly sought his father. One
would have called them the eyes of some wild beast trying to
fascinate his prey before he sprang on it.

Manoel talked mostly with Minha. Between whiles his eyes wandered to
Torres, but he acted his part more successfully than Benito in a
situation which, if it did not finish at Manaos, would certainly end
at Belem.

The dinner was jolly enough. Lina kept it going with her good humor,
Fragoso with his witty repartees.

The Padre Passanha looked gayly round on the little world he
cherished, and on the two young couples which his hands would shortly
bless in the waters of Para.

"Eat, padre," said Benito, who joined in the general conversation;
"do honor to this betrothal dinner. You will want some strength to
celebrate both marriages at once!"

"Well, my dear boy," replied Passanha, "seek out some lovely and
gentle girl who wishes you well, and you will see that I can marry
you at the same time!"

"Well answered, padre!" exclaimed Manoel. "Let us drink to the coming
marriage of Benito."

"We must look out for some nice young lady at Belem," said Minha. "He
should do what everybody else does."

"To the wedding of Mr. Benito!" said Fragoso, "who ought to wish all
the world to marry him!"

"They are right, sir," said Yaquita. "I also drink to your marriage,
and may you be as happy as Minha and Manoel, and as I and your father
have been!"

"As you always will be, it is to be hoped," said Torres, drinking a
glass of port without having pledged anybody. "All here have their
happiness in their own hands."

It was difficult to say, but this wish, coming from the adventurer,
left an unpleasant impression.

Manoel felt this, and wishing to destroy its effect, "Look here,
padre," said he, "while we are on this subject, are there not any
more couples to betroth on the raft?"

"I do not know," answered Padre Passanha, "unless Torres--you are not
married, I believe?"

"No; I am, and always shall be, a bachelor."

Benito and Manoel thought that while thus speaking Torres looked
toward Minha.

"And what should prevent you marrying?" replied Padre Passanha; "at
Belem you could find a wife whose age would suit yours, and it would
be possible perhaps for you to settle in that town. That would be
better than this wandering life, of which, up to the present, you
have not made so very much."

"You are right, padre," answered Torres; "I do not say no. Besides
the example is contagious. Seeing all these young couples gives me
rather a longing for marriage. But I am quite a stranger in Belem,
and, for certain reasons, that would make my settlement more
difficult."

"Where do you come from, then?" asked Fragoso, who always had the
idea that he had already met Torres somewhere.

"From the province of Minas Geraes."

"And you were born----"

"In the capital of the diamond district, Tijuco."

Those who had seen Joam Garral at this moment would have been
surprised at the fixity of his look which met that of Torres.

CHAPTER XIX. ANCIENT HISTORY

BUT THE CONVERSATION was continued by Fragoso, who immediately
rejoined:

"What! you come from Tijuco, from the very capital of the diamond
district?"

"Yes," said Torres. "Do you hail from that province?"

"No! I come from the Atlantic seaboard in the north of Brazil,"
replied Fragoso.

"You do not know this diamond country, Mr. Manoel?" asked Torres.

A negative shake of the head from the young man was the only reply.

"And you, Mr. Benito," continued Torres, addressing the younger
Garral, whom he evidently wished to join in the conversation; "you
have never had curiosity enough to visit the diamond arraval?"

"Never," dryly replied Benito.

"Ah! I should like to see that country," said Fragoso, who
unconsciously played Torres' game. "It seems to me I should finish by
picking up a diamond worth something considerable."

"And what would you do with this diamond worth something
considerable, Fragoso?" queried Lina.

"Sell it!"

"Then you would get rich all of a sudden!"

"Very rich!"

"Well, if you had been rich three months ago you would never have had
the idea of--that liana!"

"And if I had not had that," exclaimed Fragoso, "I should not have
found a charming little wife who--well, assuredly, all is for the
best!"

"You see, Fragoso," said Minha, "when you marry Lina, diamond takes
the place of diamond, and you do not lose by the change!"

"To be sure, Miss Minha," gallantly replied Fragoso; "rather I gain!"

There could be no doubt that Torres did not want the subject to drop,
for he went on with:

"It is a fact that at Tijuco sudden fortunes are realized enough to
turn any man's head! Have you heard tell of the famous diamond of
Abaete, which was valued at more than two million contos of reis?
Well, this stone, which weighed an ounce, came from the Brazilian
mines! And they were three convicts--yes! three men sentenced to
transportation for life--who found it by chance in the River Abaete,
at ninety leagues from Terro de Frio."

"At a stroke their fortune was made?" asked Fragoso.

"No," replied Torres; "the diamond was handed over to the
governor-general of the mines. The value of the stone was recognized,
and King John VI., of Portugal, had it cut, and wore it on his neck
on great occasions. As for the convicts, they got their pardon, but
that was all, and the cleverest could not get much of an income out
of that!"

"You, doubtless?" said Benito very dryly.

"Yes--I? Why not?" answered Torres. "Have you ever been to the
diamond district?" added he, this time addressing Joam Garral.

"Never!" said Joam, looking straight at him.

"That is a pity!" replied he. "You should go there one day. It is a
very curious place, I assure you. The diamond valley is an isolated
spot in the vast empire of Brazil, something like a park of a dozen
leagues in circumference, which in the nature of its soil, its
vegetation, and its sandy rocks surrounded by a circle of high
mountains, differs considerably from the neighboring provinces. But,
as I have told you, it is one of the richest places in the world, for
from 1807 to 1817 the annual return was about eighteen thousand
carats. Ah! there have been some rare finds there, not only for the
climbers who seek the precious stone up to the very tops of the
mountains, but also for the smugglers who fraudulently export it. But
the work in the mines is not so pleasant, and the two thousand
negroes employed in that work by the government are obliged even to
divert the watercourses to get at the diamantiferous sand. Formerly
it was easier work."

"In short," said Fragoso, "the good time has gone!"

"But what is still easy is to get the diamonds in
scoundrel-fashion--that is, by theft; and--stop! in 1826, when I was
about eight years old, a terrible drama happened at Tijuco, which
showed that criminal would recoil from nothing if they could gain a
fortune by one bold stroke. But perhaps you are not interested?"

"On the contrary, Torres; go on," replied Joam Garral, in a
singularly calm voice.

"So be it," answered Torres. "Well, the story is about stealing
diamonds, and a handful of those pretty stones is worth a million,
sometimes two!"

And Torres, whose face expressed the vilest sentiments of cupidity,
almost unconsciously made a gesture of opening and shutting his hand.

"This is what happened," he continued. "At Tijuco it is customary to
send off in one delivery the diamonds collected during the year. They
are divided into two lots, according to their size, after being
sorted in a dozen sieves with holes of different dimensions. These
lots are put into sacks and forwarded to Rio de Janeiro; but as they
are worth many millions you may imagine they are heavily escorted. A
workman chosen by the superintendent, four cavalrymen from the
district regiment, and ten men on foot, complete the convoy. They
first make for Villa Rica, where the commandant puts his seal on the
sacks, and then the convoy continues its journey to Rio de Janeiro. I
should add that, for the sake of precaution, the start is always kept
secret. Well, in 1826, a young fellow named Dacosta, who was about
twenty-two or twenty-three years of age, and who for some years had
been employed at Tijuco in the offices of the governor-general,
devised the following scheme. He leagued himself with a band of
smugglers, and informed them of the date of the departure of the
convoy. The scoundrels took their measures accordingly. They were
numerous and well armed. Close to Villa Rica, during the night of the
22d of January, the gang suddenly attacked the diamond escort, who
defended themselves bravely, but were all massacred, with the
exception of one man, who, seriously wounded, managed to escape and
bring the news of the horrible deed. The workman was not spared any
more than the soldiers. He fell beneath he blows of the thieves, and
was doubtless dragged away and thrown over some precipice, for his
body was never found."

"And this Dacosta?" asked Joam Garral.

"Well, his crime did not do him much good, for suspicion soon pointed
toward him. He was accused of having got up the affair. In vain he
protested that he was innocent. Thanks to the situation he held, he
was in a position to know the date on which the convoy's departure
was to take place. He alone could have informed the smugglers. He was
charged, arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. Such a sentence
required his execution in twenty-four hourse."

"Was the fellow executed?" asked Fragoso.

"No," replied Torres; "they shut him up in the prison at Villa Rica,
and during the night, a few hours only before his execution, whether
alone or helped by others, he managed to escape."

"Has this young man been heard of since?" asked Joam Garral.

"Never," replied Torres. "He probably left Brazil, and now, in some
distant land, lives a cheerful life with the proceeds of the robbery
which he is sure to have realized."

"Perhaps, on the other hand, he died miserably!" answered Joam
Garral.

"And, perhaps," added Padre Passanha, "Heaven caused him to feel
remorse for his crime."

Here they all rose from the table, and, having finished their dinner,
went out to breathe the evening air. The sun was low on the horizon,
but an hour had still to elapse before nightfall.

"These stories are not very lively," said Fragoso, "and our betrothal
dinner was best at the beginning."

"But it was your fault, Fragoso," answered Lina.

"How my fault?"

"It was you who went on talking about the district and the diamonds,
when you should not have done so."

"Well, that's true," replied Fragoso; "but I had no idea we were
going to wind up in that fashion."

"You are the first to blame!"

"And the first to be punished, Miss Lina; for I did not hear you
laugh all through the dessert."

The whole family strolled toward the bow of the jangada. Manoel and
Benito walked one behind the other without speaking. Yaquita and her
daughter silently followed, and all felt an unaccountable impression
of sadness, as if they had a presentiment of some coming calamity.

Torres stepped up to Joam Garral, who, with bowed head, seemed to be
lost in thought, and putting his hand on his shoulder, said, "Joam
Garral, may I have a few minutes' conversation with you?"

Joam looked at Torres.

"Here?" he asked.

"No; in private."

"Come, then."

They went toward the house, entered it, and the door was shut on
them.

It would be difficult to depict what every one felt when Joam Garral
and Torres disappeared. What could there be in common between the
adventurer and the honest fazender of Iquitos? The menace of some
frightful misfortune seemed to hang over the whole family, and they
scarcely dared speak to each other.

"Manoel!" said Benito, seizing his friend's arm, "whatever happens,
this man must leave us tomorrow at Manaos."

"Yes!" it is imperative!" answered Manoel.

"And if through him some misfortune happens to my father--I shall
kill him!"

CHAPTER XX. BETWEEN THE TWO MEN

FOR A MOMENT, alone in the room, where none could see or hear them,
Joam Garral and Torres looked at each other without uttering a word.
Did the adventurer hesitate to speak? Did he suspect that Joam Garral
would only reply to his demands by a scornful silence?

Yes! Probably so. So Torres did not question him. At the outset of
the conversation he took the affirmative, and assumed the part of an
accuser.

"Joam," he said, "your name is not Garral. Your name is Dacosta!"

At the guilty name which Torres thus gave him, Joam Garral could not
repress a slight shudder.

"You are Joam Dacosta," continued Torres, "who, twenty-five years
ago, were a clerk in the governor-general's office at Tijuco, and you
are the man who was sentenced to death in this affair of the robbery
and murder!"

No response from Joam Garral, whose strange tranquillity surprised
the adventurer. Had he made a mistake in accusing his host? No! For
Joam Garral made no start at the terrible accusations. Doubtless he
wanted to know to what Torres was coming.

"Joam Dacosta, I repeat! It was you whom they sought for this diamond
affair, whom they convicted of crime and sentenced to death, and it
was you who escaped from the prison at Villa Rica a few hours before
you should have been executed! Do you not answer?"

Rather a long silence followed this direct question which Torres
asked. Joam Garral, still calm, took a seat. His elbow rested on a
small table, and he looked fixedly at his accuser without bending his
head.

"Will you reply?" repeated Torres.

"What reply do you want from me?" said Joam quietly.

"A reply," slowly answered Torres, "that will keep me from finding
out the chief of the police at Manaos, and saying to him, 'A man is
there whose identity can easily be established, who can be recognized
even after twenty-five years' absence, and this man was the
instigator of the diamond robbery at Tijuco. He was the accomplice of
the murderers of the soldiers of the escort; he is the man who
escaped from execution; he is Joam Garral, whose true name is Joam
Dacosta.'"

"And so, Torres," said Joam Garral, "I shall have nothing to fear
from you if I give the answer you require?"

"Nothing, for neither you nor I will have any interest in talking
about the matter."

"Neither you nor I?" asked Joam Garral. "It is not with money, then,
that your silence is to be bought?"

"No! No matter how much you offered me!"

"What do you want, then?"

"Joam Garral," replied Torres, "here is my proposal. Do not be in a
hurry to reply by a formal refusal. Remember that you are in my
power."

"What is this proposal?" asked Joam.

Torres hesitated for a moment.

The attitude of this guilty man, whose life he held in his hands, was
enough to astonish him. He had expected a stormy discussion and
prayers and tears. He had before him a man convicted of the most
heinous of crimes, and the man never flinched.

At length, crossing his arms, he said:

"You have a daughter!--I like her--and I want to marry her!"

Apparently Joam Garral expected anything from such a man, and was as
quiet as before.

"And so," he said, "the worthy Torres is anxious to enter the family
of a murderer and a thief?"

"I am the sole judge of what it suits me to do," said Torres. "I wish
to be the son-in-law of Joam Garral, and I will."

"You ignore, then, that my daughter is going to marry Manoel Valdez?"

"You will break it off with Manoel Valdez!"

"And if my daughter declines?"

"If you tell her all, I have no doubt she would consent," was the
impudent answer.

"All?"

"All, if necessary. Between her own feelings and the honor of her
family and the life of her father she would not hesitate."

"You are a consummate scoundrel, Torres," quietly said Joam, whose
coolness never forsook him.

"A scoundrel and a murderer were made to understand each other."

At these words Joam Garral rose, advanced to the adventurer, and
looking him straight in the face, "Torres," he said, "if you wish to
become one of the family of Joam Dacosta, you ought to know that Joam
Dacosta was innocent of the crime for which he was condemned."

"Really!"

"And I add," replied Joam, "that you hold the proof of his innocence,
and are keeping it back to proclaim it on the day when you marry his
daughter."

"Fair play, Joam Garral," answered Torres, lowering his voice, "and
when you have heard me out, you will see if you dare refuse me your
daughter!"

"I am listening, Torres."

"Well," said the adventurer, half keeping back his words, as if he
was sorry to let them escape from his lips, "I know you are innocent!
I know it, for I know the true culprit, and I am in a position to
prove your innocence."

"And the unhappy man who committed the crime?"

"Is dead."

"Dead!" exclaimed Joam Garral; and the word made him turn pale, in
spite of himself, as if it had deprived him of all power of
reinstatement.

"Dead," repeated Torres; "but this man, whom I knew a long time after
his crime, and without knowing that he was a convict, had written out
at length, in his own hand, the story of this affair of the diamonds,
even to the smallest details. Feeling his end approaching, he was
seized with remorse. He knew where Joam Dacosta had taken refuge, and
under what name the innocent man had again begun a new life. He knew
that he was rich, in the bosom of a happy family, but he knew also
that there was no happiness for him. And this happiness he desired to
add to the reputation to which he was entitled. But death came--he
intrusted to me, his companion, to do what he could no longer do. He
gave me the proofs of Dacosta's innocence for me to transmit them to
him, and he died."

"The man's name?" exclaimed Joam Garral, in a tone he could not
control.

"You will know it when I am one of your family."

"And the writing?"

Joam Garral was ready to throw himself on Torres, to search him, to
snatch from him the proofs of his innocence.

"The writing is in a safe place," replied Torres, "and you will not
have it until your daughter has become my wife. Now will you still
refuse me?"

"Yes," replied Joam, "but in return for that paper the half of my
fortune is yours."

"The half of your fortune?" exclaimed Torres; "agreed, on condition
that Minha brings it to me at her marriage."

"And it is thus that you respect the wishes of a dying man, of a
criminal tortured by remorse, and who has charge you to repair as
much as he could the evil which he had done?"

"It is thus."

"Once more, Torres," said Joam Garral, "you are a consummate
scoundrel."

"Be it so."

"And as I am not a criminal we were not made to understand one
another."

"And your refuse?"

"I refuse."

"It will be your ruin, then, Joam Garral. Everything accuses you in
the proceedings that have already taken place. You are condemned to
death, and you know, in sentences for crimes of that nature, the
government is forbidden the right of commuting the penalty.
Denounced, you are taken; taken, you are executed. And I will
denounce you."

Master as he was of himself, Joam could stand it no longler. He was
about to rush on Torres.

A gesture from the rascal cooled his anger.

"Take care," said Torres, "your wife knows not that she is the wife
of Joam Dacosta, your children do not know they are the children of
Joam Dacosta, and you are not going to give them the information."

Joam Garral stopped himself. He regained his usual command over
himself, and his features recovered their habitual calm.

"This discussion has lasted long enough," said he, moving toward the
door, "and I know what there is left for me to do."

"Take care, Joam Garral!" said Torres, for the last time, for he
could scarcely believe that his ignoble attempt at extortion had
collapsed.

Joam Garral made him no answer. He threw back the door which opened
under the veranda, made a sign to Torres to follow him, and they
advanced toward the center of the jangada, where the family were
assembled.

Benito, Manoel, and all of them, under a feeling of deep anxiety, had
risen. They could see that the bearing of Torres was still menacing,
and that the fire of anger still shone in his eyes.

In extraordinary contrast, Joam Garral was master of himself, and
almost smiling.

Both of them stopped before Yaquita and her people. Not one dared to
say a word to them.

It was Torres who, in a hollow voice, and with his customary
impudence, broke the painful silence.

"For the last time, Joam Garral," he said, "I ask you for a last
reply!"

"And here is my reply."

And addressing his wife:

"Yaquita," he said, "peculiar circumstances oblige me to alter what
we have formerly decided as to the marriage of Minha and Manoel."

"At last!" exclaimed Torres.

Joam Garral, without answering him, shot at the adventurer a glance
of the deepest scorn.

But at the words Manoel had felt his heart beat as if it would break.
The girl arose, ashy pale, as if she would seek shelter by the side
of her mother. Yaquita opened her arms to protect, to defend her.

"Father," said Benito, who had placed himself between Joam Garral and
Torres, "what were you going to say?"

"I was going to say," answered Joam Garral, raising his voice, "that
to wait for our arrival in Para for the wedding of Minha and Manoel
is to wait too long. The marriage will take place here, not later
than to-morrow, on the jangada, with the aid of Padre Passanha, if,
after a conversation I am about to have with Manoel, he agrees with
me to defer it no longer."

"Ah, father, father!" exclaimed the young man.

"Wait a little before you call me so, Manoel," replied Joam, in a
tone of unspeakable suffering.

Here Torres, with crossed arms, gave the whole family a look of
inconceivable insolence.

"So that is you last word?" said he, extending his hand toward Joam
Garral

"No, that is not my last word."

"What is it, then?"

"This, Torres. I am master here. You will be off, if you please, and
even if you do not please, and leave the jangada at this very
instant!"

"Yes, this instant!" exclaimed Benito, "or I will throw you
overboard."

Torres shrugged his shoulders.

"No threats," he said; "they are of no use. It suits me also to land,
and without delay. But you will remember me, Joam Garral. We shall
not be long before we meet."

"If it only depends on me," answered Joam Garral, "we shall soon
meet, and rather sooner, perhaps, than you will like. To-morrow I
shall be with Judge Ribeiro, the first magistrate of the province,
whom I have advised of my arrival at Manaos. If you dare, meet me
there!"

"At Judge Ribeiro's?" said Torres, evidently disconcerted.

"At Judge Ribeiro's," answered Joam Garral.

And then, showing the pirogue to Torres, with a gesture of supreme
contempt Joam Garral ordered four of his people to land him without
delay on the nearest point of the island.

The scoundrel at last disappeared.

The family, who were still appalled, respected the silence of its
chief; but Fragoso, comprehending scarce half the gravity of the
situation, and carried away by his customary vivacity, came up to
Joam Garral.

"If the wedding of Miss Minha and Mr. Manoel is to take place
to-morrow on the raft----"

"Yours shall take place at the same time," kindly answered Joam
Garral.

And making a sign to Manoel, he retired to his room with him.

The interview between Joam and Manoel had lasted for half an hour,
and it seemed a century to the family, when the door of the room was
reopened.

Manoel came out alone; his face glowed with generous resolution.

Going up to Yaquita, he said, "My mother!" to Minha he said, "My
wife!" and to Benito he said, "My brother!" and, turning toward Lina
and Fragoso, he said to all, "To-morrow!"

He knew all that had passed between Joam Garral and Torres. He knew
that, counting on the protection of Judge Ribeiro, by means of a
correspondence which he had had with him for a year past without
speaking of it to his people, Joam Garral had at last succeeded in
clearing himself and convincing him of his innocence. He knew that
Joam Garral had boldly undertaken the voyage with the sole object of
canceling the hateful proceedings of which he had been the victim, so
as not to leave on his daughter and son-in-law the weight of the
terrible situation which he had had to endure so long himself.

Yes, Manoel knew all this, and, further, he knew that Joam Garral--or
rather Joam Dacosta--was innocent, and his misfortunes made him even
dearer and more devoted to him. What he did not know was that the
material proof of the innocence of the fazender existed, and that
this proof was in the hands of Torres. Joam Garral wished to reserve
for the judge himself the use of this proof, which, if the adventurer
had spoken truly, would demonstrate his innocence.

Manoel confined himself, then, to announcing that he was going to
Padre Passanha to ask him to get things ready for the two weddings.

Next day, the 24th of August, scarcely an hour before the ceremony
was to take place, a large pirogue came off from the left bank of the
river and hailed the jangada. A dozen paddlers had swiftly brought it
from Manaos, and with a few men it carried the chief of the police,
who made himself known and came on board.

At the moment Joam Garral and his family, attired for the ceremony,
were coming out of the house.

"Joam Garral?" asked the chief of the police.

"I am here," replied Joam.

"Joam Garral," continued the chief of the police, "you have also been
Joam Dacosta; both names have been borne by the same man--I arrest
you!"

At these words Yaquita and Minha, struck with stupor, stopped without
any power to move.

"My father a murderer?" exclaimed Benito, rushing toward Joam Garral.

By a gesture his father silenced him.

"I will only ask you one question," said Joam with firm voice,
addressing the chief of police. "Has the warrant in virtue of which
you arrest me been issued against me by the justice at Manaos--by
Judge Ribeiro?"

"No," answered the chief of the police, "it was given to me, with an
order for its immediate execution, by his substitute. Judge Ribeiro
was struck with apoplexy yesterday evening, and died during the night
at two o'clock, without having recovered his consciousness."

"Dead!" exclaimed Joam Garral, crushed for a moment by the
news--"dead! dead!"

But soon raising his head, he said to his wife and children, "Judge
Ribeiro alone knew that I was innocent, my dear ones. The death of
the judge may be fatal to me, but that is no reason for me to
despair."

And, turning toward Manoel, "Heaven help us!" he said to him; "we
shall see if truth will come down to the earth from Above."

The chief of the police made a sign to his men, who advanced to
secure Joam Garral.

"But speak, father!" shouted Benito, mad with despair; "say one word,
and we shall contest even by force this horrible mistake of which you
are the victim!"

"There is no mistake here, my son," replied Joam Garral; "Joam
Dacosta and Joam Garral are one. I am in truth Joam Dacosta! I am the
honest man whom a legal error unjustly doomed to death twenty-five
years ago in the place of the true culprit! That I am quite innocent
I swear before Heaven, once for all, on your heads, my children, and
on the head of your mother!"

"All communication between you and yours is now forbidden," said the
chief of the police. "You are my prisoner, Joam Garral, and I will
rigorously execute my warrant."

Joam restrained by a gesture his dismayed children and servants.

"Let the justice of man be done while we wait for the justice of
God!"

And with his head unbent, he stepped into the pirogue.

It seemed, indeed, as though of all present Joam Garral was the only
one whom this fearful thunderbolt, which had fallen so unexpectedly
on his head, had failed to overwhelm.

PART II. THE CRYPTOGRAM

CHAPTER I. MANAOS

THE TOWN of Manaos is in 3° 8' 4" south latitude, and 67° 27' west
longitude, reckoning from the Paris meridian. It is some four hundred
and twenty leagues from Belem, and about ten miles from the
embouchure of the Rio Negro.

Manaos is not built on the Amazon. It is on the left bank of the Rio
Negro, the most important and remarkable of all the tributaries of
the great artery of Brazil, that the capital of the province, with
its picturesque group of private houses and public buildings, towers
above the surrounding plain.

The Rio Negro, which was discovered by the Spaniard Favella in 1645,
rises in the very heart of the province of Popayan, on the flanks of
the mountains which separate Brazil from New Grenada, and it
communicates with the Orinoco by two of its affluents, the Pimichin
and the Cassiquary.

After a noble course of some seventeen hundred miles it mingles its
cloudy waters with those of the Amazon through a mouth eleven hundred
feet wide, but such is its vigorous influx that many a mile has to be
completed before those waters lose their distinctive character.
Hereabouts the ends of both its banks trend off and form a huge bay
fifteen leagues across, extending to the islands of Anavilhanas; and
in one of its indentations the port of Manaos is situated. Vessels of
all kinds are there collected in great numbers, some moored in the
stream awaiting a favorable wind, others under repair up the numerous
iguarapes, or canals, which so capriciously intersect the town, and
give it its slightly Dutch appearance.

With the introduction of steam vessels, which is now rapidly taking
place, the trade of Manaos is destined to increase enormously. Woods
used in building and furniture work, cocoa, caoutchouc, coffee,
sarsaparilla, sugar-canes, indigo, muscado nuts, salt fish, turtle
butter, and other commodities, are brought here from all parts, down
the innumerable streams into the Rio Negro from the west and north,
into the Madeira from the west and south, and then into the Amazon,
and by it away eastward to the coast of the Atlantic.

Manaos was formerly called Moura, or Barra de Rio Negro. From 1757 to
1804 it was only part of the captaincy which bears the name of the
great river at whose mouth it is placed; but since 1826 it has been
the capital of the large province of Amazones, borrowing its latest
name from an Indian tribe which formerly existed in these parts of
equatorial America.

Careless travelers have frequently confounded it with the famous
Manoa, a city of romance, built, it was reported, near the legendary
lake of Parima--which would seem to be merely the Upper Branco, a
tributary of the Rio Negro. Here was the Empire of El Dorado, whose
monarch, if we are to believe the fables of the district, was every
morning covered with powder of gold, there being so much of the
precious metal abounding in this privileged locality that it was
swept up with the very dust of the streets. This assertion, however,
when put to the test, was disproved, and with extreme regret, for the
auriferous deposits which had deceived the greedy scrutiny of the
gold-seekers turned out to be only worthless flakes of mica!

In short, Manaos has none of the fabulous splendors of the mythical
capital of El Dorado. It is an ordinary town of about five thousand
inhabitants, and of these at least three thousand are in government
employ. This fact is to be attributed to the number of its public
buildings, which consist of the legislative chamber, the government
house, the treasury, the post-office, and the custom-house, and, in
addition, a college founded in 1848, and a hospital erected in 1851.
When with these is also mentioned a cemetery on the south side of a
hill, on which, in 1669, a fortress, which has since been demolished,
was thrown up against the pirates of the Amazon, some idea can be
gained as to the importance of the official establishments of the
city. Of religious buildings it would be difficult to find more than
two, the small Church of the Conception and the Chapel of Notre Dame
des Remedes, built on a knoll which overlooks the town. These are
very few for a town of Spanish origin, though to them should perhaps
be added the Carmelite Convent, burned down in 1850, of which only
the ruins remain. The population of Manaos does not exceed the number
above given, and after reckoning the public officials and soldiers,
is principally made of up Portuguese and Indian merchants belonging
to the different tribes of the Rio Negro.

Three principal thoroughfares of considerable irregularity run
through the town, and they bear names highly characteristic of the
tone of thought prevalent in these parts--God-the-Father Street,
God-the-Son Street, and God-the-Holy Ghost Street!

In the west of the town is a magnificent avenue of centenarian orange
trees which were carefully respected by the architects who out of the
old city made the new. Round these principal thoroughfares is
interwoven a perfect network of unpaved alleys, intersected every now
and then by four canals, which are occasionally crossed by wooden
bridges. In a few places these iguarapes flow with their brownish
waters through large vacant spaces covered with straggling weeds and
flowers of startling hues, and here and there are natural squares
shaded by magnificent trees, with an occasional white-barked
sumaumeira shooting up, and spreading out its large dome-like parasol
above its gnarled branches.

The private houses have to be sought for among some hundreds of
dwellings, of very rudimentary type, some roofed with tiles, others
with interlaced branches of the palm-tree, and with prominent
miradors, and projecting shops for the most part tenanted by
Portuguese traders.

And what manner of people are they who stroll on to the fashionable
promenade from the public buildings and private residences? Men of
good appearance, with black cloth coats, chimney-pot hats,
patent-leather boots, highly-colored gloves, and diamond pins in
their necktie bows; and women in loud, imposing toilets, with
flounced dressed and headgear of the latest style; and Indians, also
on the road to Europeanization in a way which bids fair to destroy
every bit of local color in this central portion of the district of
the Amazon!

Such is Manaos, which, for the benefit of the reader, it was
necessary to sketch. Here the voyage of the giant raft, so tragically
interrupted, had just come to a pause in the midst of its long
journey, and here will be unfolded the further vicissitudes of the
mysterious history of the fazender of Iquitos.

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST MOMENTS

SCARCELY HAD the pirogue which bore off Joam Garral, or rather Joam
Dacosta--for it is more convenient that he should resume his real
name-disappeared, than Benito stepped up to Manoel.

"What is it you know?" he asked.

"I know that your father is innocent! Yes, innocent!" replied Manoel,
"and that he was sentenced to death twenty-three years ago for a
crime which he never committed!"

"He has told you all about it, Manoel?"

"All about it," replied the young man. "The noble fazender did not
wish that any part of his past life should be hidden from him who,
when he marries his daughter, is to be his second son."

"And the proof of his innocence my father can one day produce?"

"That proof, Benito, lies wholly in the twenty-three years of an
honorable and honored life, lies entirely in the bearing of Joam
Dacosta, who comes forward to say to justice, 'Here am I! I do not
care for this false existence any more. I do not care to hide under a
name which is not my true one! You have condemned an innocent man!
Confess your errors and set matters right."

"And when my father spoke like that, you did not hesitate for a
moment to believe him?"

"Not for an instant," replied Manoel.

The hands of the two young fellows closed in a long and cordial
grasp.

Then Benito went up to Padre Passanha.

"Padre," he said, "take my mother and sister away to their rooms. Do
not leave them all day. No one here doubts my father's innocence--not
one, you know that! To-morrow my mother and I will seek out the chief
of the police. They will not refuse us permission to visit the
prison. No! that would be too cruel. We will see my father again, and
decide what steps shall be taken to procure his vindication."

Yaquita was almost helpless, but the brave woman, though nearly
crushed by this sudden blow, arose. With Yaquita Dacosta it was as
with Yaquita Garral. She had not a doubt as to the innocence of her
husband. The idea even never occurred to her that Joam Dacosta had
been to blame in marrying her under a name which was not his own. She
only thought of the life of happiness she had led with the noble man
who had been injured so unjustly. Yes! On the morrow she would go to
the gate of the prison, and never leave it until it was opened!

Padre Passanha took her and her daughter, who could not restrain her
tears, and the tree entered the house.

The two young fellows found themselves alone.

"And now," said Benito, "I ought to know all that my father has told
you."

"I have nothing to hide from you."

"Why did Torres come on board the jangada?"

"To see to Joam Dacosta the secret of his past life."

"And so, when we first met Torres in the forest of Iquitos, his plan
had already been formed to enter into communication with my father?"

"There cannot be a doubt of it," replied Manoel. "The scoundrel was
on his way to the fazenda with the idea of consummating a vile scheme
of extortion which he had been preparing for a long time."

"And when he learned from us that my father and his whole family were
about to pass the frontier, he suddenly changed his line of conduct?"

"Yes. Because Joam Dacosta once in Brazilian territory became more at
his mercy than while within the frontiers of Peru. That is why we
found Torres at Tabatinga, where he was waiting in expectation of our
arrival."

"And it was I who offered him a passage on the raft!" exclaimed
Benito, with a gesture of despair.

"Brother," said Manoel, "you need not reproach yourself. Torres would
have joined us sooner or later. He was not the man to abandon such a
trail. Had we lost him at Tabatinga, we should have found him at
Manaos."

"Yes, Manoel, you are right. But we are not concerned with the past
now. We must think of the present. An end to useless recriminations!
Let us see!" And while speaking, Benito, passing his hand across his
forehead, endeavored to grasp the details of the strange affair.

"How," he asked, "did Torres ascertain that my father had been
sentenced twenty-three years back for this abominable crime at
Tijuco?"

"I do not know," answered Manoel, "and everything leads me to think
that your father did not know that."

"But Torres knew that Garral was the name under which Joam Dacosta
was living?"

"Evidently."

"And he knew that it was in Peru, at Iquitos, that for so many years
my father had taken refuge?"

"He knew it," said Manoel, "but how he came to know it I do not
understand."

"One more question," continued Benito. "What was the proposition that
Torres made to my father during the short interview which preceded
his expulsion?"

"He threatened to denounce Joam Garral as being Joam Dacosta, if he
declined to purchase his silence."

"And at what price?"

"At the price of his daughter's hand!" answered Manoel
unhesitatingly, but pale with anger.

"The scoundrel dared to do that!" exclaimed Benito.

"To this infamous request, Benito, you saw the reply that your father
gave."

"Yes, Manoel, yes! The indignant reply of an honest man. He kicked
Torres off the raft. But it is not enough to have kicked him out. No!
That will not do for me. It was on Torres' information that they came
here and arrested my father; is not that so?"

"Yes, on his denunciation."

"Very well," continued Benito, shaking his fist toward the left bank
of the river, "I must find out Torres. I must know how he became
master of the secret. He must tell me if he knows the real author of
this crime. He shall speak out. And if he does not speak out, I know
what I shall have to do."

"What you will have to do is for me to do as well!" added Manoel,
more coolly, but not less reolutely.

"No! Manoel, no, to me alone!"

"We are brothers, Benito," replied Manoel. "The right of demanding an
explanation belongs to us both."

Benito made no reply. Evidently on that subject his decision was
irrevocable.

At this moment the pilot Araujo, who had been observing the state of
the river, came up to them.

"Have you decided," he asked, "if the raft is to remain at her
moorings at the Isle of Muras, or to go on to the port of Manaos?"

The question had to be decided before nightfall, and the sooner it
was settled the better.

In fact, the news of the arrest of Joam Dacosta ought already to have
spread through the town. That it was of a nature to excite the
interest of the population of Manaos could scarcely be doubted. But
would it provoke more than curiosity against the condemned man, who
was the principal author of the crime of Tijuco, which had formerly
created such a sensation? Ought they not to fear that some popular
movement might be directed against the prisoner? In the face of this
hypothesis was it not better to leave the jangada moored near the
Isle of Muras on the right bank of the river at a few miles from
Manaos?"

The pros and cons of the question were well weighed.

"No!" at length exclaimed Benito; "to remain here would look as
though we were abandoning my father and doubting his innocence--as
though we were afraid to make common cause with him. We must go to
Manaos, and without delay."

"You are right," replied Manoel. "Let us go."

Araujo, with an approving nod, began his preparations for leaving the
island. The maneuver necessitated a good deal of care. They had to
work the raft slantingly across the current of the Amazon, here
doubled in force by that of the Rio Negro, and to make for the
embouchure of the tributary about a dozen miles down on the left
bank.

The ropes were cast off from the island. The jangada, again started
on the river, began to drift off diagonally. Araujo, cleverly
profiting by the bendings of the current, which were due to the
projections of the banks, and assisted by the long poles of his crew,
succeeded in working the immense raft in the desired direction.

In two hours the jangada was on the other side of the Amazon, a
little above the mouth of the Rio Negro, and fairly in the current
which was to take it to the lower bank of the vast bay which opened
on the left side of the stream.

At five o'clock in the evening it was strongly moored alongside this
bank, not in the port of Manaos itself, which it could not enter
without stemming a rather powerful current, but a short mile below
it.

The raft was then in the black waters of the Rio Negro, near rather a
high bluff covered with cecropias with buds of reddish-brown, and
palisaded with stiff-stalked reeds called "froxas," of which the
Indians make some of their weapons.

A few citizens were strolling about the bank. A feeling of curiosity
had doubtless attracted them to the anchorage of the raft. The news
of the arrest of Joam Dacosta had soon spread about, but the
curiosity of the Manaens did not outrun their discretion, and they
were very quiet.

Benito's intention had been to land that evening, but Manoel
dissuaded him.

"Wait till to-morrow," he said; "night is approaching, and there is
no necessity for us to leave the raft."

"So be it! To-morrow!" answered Benito.

And here Yaquita, followed by her daughter and Padre Passanha, came
out of the house. Minha was still weeping, but her mother's face was
tearless, and she had that look of calm resolution which showed that
the wife was now ready for all things, either to do her duty or to
insist on her rights.

Yaquita slowly advanced toward Manoel.

"Manoel," she said, "listen to what I have to say, for my conscience
commands me to speak as I am about to do."

"I am listening," replied Manoel.

Yaquita, looking him straight in the face, continued: "Yesterday,
after the interview you had with Joam Dacosta, my husband, you came
to me and called me--mother! You took Minha's hand, and called
her--your wife! You then knew everything, and the past life of Joam
Dacosta had been disclosed to you."

"Yes," answered Manoel, "and heaven forbid I should have had any
hesitation in doing so!"

"Perhaps so," replied Yaquita; "but then Joam Dacosta had not been
arrested. The position is not now the same. However innocent he may
be, my husband is in the hands of justice; his past life has been
publicly proclaimed. Minha is a convict's daughter."

"Minha Dacosta or Minha Garral, what matters it to me?" exclaimed
Manoel, who could keep silent no longer.

"Manoel!" murmured Minha.

And she would certainly have fallen had not Lina's arm supported her.

"Mother, if you do not wish to kill her," said Manoel, "call me your
son!"

"My son! my child!"

It was all Yaquita could say, and the tears, which she restrained
with difficulty, filled her eyes.

And then they all re-entered the house. But during the long night not
an hour's sleep fell to the lot of the unfortunate family who were
being so cruelly tried.

CHAPTER III. RETROSPECTIVE

JOAM DACOSTA had relied entirely on Judge Albeiro, and his death was
most unfortunate.

Before he was judge at Manaos, and chief magistrate in the province,
Ribeiro had known the young clerk at the time he was being prosecuted
for the murder in the diamond arrayal. He was then an advocate at
Villa Rica, and he it was who defended the prisoner at the trial. He
took the cause to heart and made it his own, and from an examination
of the papers and detailed information, and not from the simple fact
of his position in the matter, he came to the conclusion that his
client was wrongfully accused, and that he had taken not the
slightest part in the murder of the escort or the theft of the
diamonds--in a word, that Joam Dacosta was innocent.

But, notwithstanding this conviction, notwithstanding his talent and
zeal, Ribeiro was unable to persuade the jury to take the same view
of the matter. How could he remove so strong a presumption? If it was
not Joam Dacosta, who had every facility for informing the scoundrels
of the convoy's departure, who was it? The official who acocmpanied
the escort had perished with the greater part of the soldiers, and
suspicion could not point against him. Everything agreed in
distinguishing Dacosta as the true and only author of the crime.

Ribeiro defended him with great warmth and with all his powers, but
he could not succeed in saving him. The verdict of the jury was
affirmative on all the questions. Joam Dacosta, convicted of
aggravated and premeditated murder, did not even obtain the benefit
of extenuating circumstances, and heard himself condemned to death.

There was no hope left for the accused. No commutation of the
sentence was possible, for the crime was committed in the diamond
arrayal. The condemned man was lost. But during the night which
preceded his execution, and when the gallows was already erected,
Joam Dacosta managed to escape from the prison at Villa Rica. We know
the rest.

Twenty years later Ribeiro the advocate became the chief justice of
Manaos. In the depths of his retreat the fazender of Iquitos heard of
the change, and in it saw a favorable opportunity for bringing
forward the revision of the former proceedings against him with some
chance of success. He knew that the old convictions of the advocate
would be still unshaken in the mind of the judge. He therefore
resolved to try and rehabilitate himself. Had it not been for
Ribeiro's nomination to the chief justiceship in the province of
Amazones, he might perhaps have hesitated, for he had no new material
proof of his innocence to bring forward. Although the honest man
suffered acutely, he might still have remained hidden in exile at
Iquitos, and still have asked for time to smother the remembrances of
the horrible occurrence, but something was urging him to act in the
matter without delay.

In fact, before Yaquita had spoken to him, Joam Dacosta had noticed
that Manoel was in love with his daughter.

The union of the young army doctor and his daughter was in every
respect a suitable one. It was evident to Joam that some day or other
he would be asked for her hand in marriage, and he did not wish to be
obliged to refuse.

But then the thought that his daughter would have to marry under a
name which did not belong to her, that Manoel Valdez, thinking he was
entering the family of Garral, would enter that of Dacosta, the head
of which was under sentence of death, was intolerable to him. No! The
wedding should not take place unless under proper conditions! Never!

Let us recall what had happened up to this time. Four years after the
young clerk, who eventually became the partner of Magalhaës, had
arrived at Iquitos, the old Portuguese had been taken back to the
farm mortally injured. A few days only were left for him to live. He
was alarmed at the thought that his daughter would be left alone and
unprotected; but knowing that Joam and Yaquita were in love with each
other, he desired their union without delay.

Joam at first refused. He offered to remain the protector or the
servant of Yaquita without becoming her husband. The wish of the
dying Magalhaës was so urgent that resistance became impossible.
Yaquita put her hand into the hand of Joam, and Joam did not withdraw
it.

Yes! It was a serious matter! Joam Dacosta ought to have confessed
all, or to have fled forever from the house in which he had been so
hospitably received, from the establishment of which he had built up
the prosperity! Yes! To confess everything rather than to give to the
daughter of his benefactor a name which was not his, instead of the
name of a felon condemned to death for murder, innocent though he
might be!

But the case was pressing, the old fazender was on the point of
death, his hands were stretched out toward the young people! Joam was
silent, the marriage took place, and the remainder of his life was
devoted to the happiness of the girl he had made his wife.

"The day when I confess everything," Joam repeated, "Yaquita will
pardon everything! She will not doubt me for an instant! But if I
ought not to have deceived her, I certainly will not deceive the
honest fellow who wishes to enter our family by marrying Mina! No! I
would rather give myself up and have done with this life!"

Many times had Joam thought of telling his wife about his past life.
Yes! the avowal was on his lips whenever she asked him to take her
into Brazil, and with her and her daughter descend the beautiful
Amazon river. He knew sufficient of Yaquita to be sure that her
affection for him would not thereby be diminished in the least. But
courage failed him!

And this is easily intelligible in the face of the happiness of the
family, which increased on every side. This happiness was his work,
and it might be destroyed forever by his return.

Such had been his life for those long years; such had been the
continuous source of his sufferings, of which he had kept the secret
so well; such had been the existence of this man, who had no action
to be ashamed of, and whom a great injustice compelled to hide away
from himself!

But at length the day arrived when there could no longer remain a
doubt as to the affection which Manoel bore to Minha, when he could
see that a year would not go by before he was asked to give his
consent to her marriage, and after a short delay he no longer
hesitated to proceed in the matter.

A letter from him, addressed to Judge Ribeiro, acquainted the chief
justice with the secret of the existence of Joam Dacosta, with the
name under which he was concealed, with the place where he lived with
his family, and at the same time with his formal intention of
delivering himself up to justice, and taking steps to procure the
revision of the proceedings, which would either result in his
rehabilitation or in the execution of the iniquitous judgment
delivered at Villa Rica.

What were the feelings which agitated the heart of the worthy
magistrate? We can easily divine them. It was no longer to the
advocate that the accused applied; it was to the chief justice of the
province that the convict appealed. Joam Dacosta gave himself over to
him entirely, and did not even ask him to keep the secret.

Judge Ribeiro was at first troubled about this unexpected revelation,
but he soon recovered himself, and scrupulously considered the duties
which the position imposed on him. It was his place to pursue
criminals, and here was one who delivered himself into his hands.
This criminal, it was true, he had defended; he had never doubted but
that he had been unjustly condemned; his joy had been extreme when he
saw him escape by flight from the last penalty; he had even
instigated and facilitated his flight! But what the advocate had done
in the past could the magistrate do in the present?

"Well, yes!" had the judge said, "my conscience tells me not to
abandon this just man. The step he is taking is a fresh proof of his
innocence, a moral proof, even if he brings me others, which may be
the most convincing of all! No! I will not abandon him!"

From this day forward a secret correspondence took place between the
magistrate and Joam Dacosta. Ribeiro at the outset cautioned his
client against compromising himself by any imprudence. He had again
to work up the matter, again to read over the papers, again to look
through the inquiries. He had to find out if any new facts had come
to light in the diamond province referring to so serious a case. Had
any of the accomplices of the crime, of the smugglers who had
attacked the convoy, been arrested since the attempt? Had any
confessions or half-confessions been brought forward? Joam Dacosta
had done nothing but protest his innocence from the very first. But
that was not enough, and Judge Ribeiro was desirous of finding in the
case itself the clue to the real culprit.

Joam Dacosta had accordingly been prudent. He had promised to be so.
But in all his trials it was an immense consolation for him to find
his old advocate, though now a chief justice, so firmly convinced
that he was not guilty. Yes! Joam Dacosta, in spite of his
condemnation, was a victim, a martyr, an honest man to whom society
owed a signal reparation! And when the magistrate knew the past
career of the fazender of Iquitos since his sentence, the position of
his family, all that life of devotion, of work, employed unceasingly
for the happiness of those belonging to him, he was not only more
convinced but more affected, and determined to do all that he could
to procure the rehabilitation of the felon of Tijuco.

For six months a correspondence had passed between these two men.

One day, the case being pressing, Joam Dacosta wrote to Judge
Ribeiro:

"In two months I will be with you, in the power of the chief justice
of the province!"

"Come, then," replied Ribeiro.

The jangada was then ready to go down the river. Joam Dacosta
embarked on it with all his people. During the voyage, to the great
astonishment of his wife and son, he landed but rarely, as we know.
More often he remained shut up on his room, writing, working, not at
his trading accounts, but, without saying anything about it, at a
kind of memoir, which he called "The History of My Life," and which
was meant to be used in the revision of the legal proceedings.

Eight days before his new arrest, made on account of information
given by Torres, which forestalled and perhaps would ruin his
prospects, he intrusted to an Indian on the Amazon a letter, in which
he warned Judge Ribeiro of his approaching arrival.

The letter was sent and delivered as addressed, and the magistrate
only waited for Joam Dacosta to commence on the serious undertaking
which he hoped to bring to a successful issue.

During the night before the arrival of the raft at Manaos Judge
Ribeiro was seized with an attack of apoplexy. But the denunciation
of Torres, whose scheme of extortion had collapsed in face of the
noble anger of his victim, had produced its effect. Joam Dacosta was
arrested in the bosom of his family, and his old advocate was no
longer in this world to defend him!

Yes, the blow was terrible indeed. His lot was cast, whatever his
fate might be; there was no going back for him! And Joam Dacosta rose
from beneath the blow which had so unexpectedly struck him. It was
not only his own honor which was in question, but the honor of all
who belonged to him.

CHAPTER IV. MORAL PROOFS

THE WARRANT against Joam Dacosta, alias Joam Garral, had been issued
by the assistant of Judge Ribeiro, who filled the position of the
magistrate in the province of Amazones, until the nomination of the
successor of the late justice.

This assistant bore the name of Vicente Jarriquez. He was a surly
little fellow, whom forty years' practice in criminal procedure had
not rendered particularly friendly toward those who came before him.
He had had so many cases of this sort, and tried and sentenced so
many rascals, that a prisoner's innocence seemed to him à priori
inadmissable. To be sure, he did not come to a decision
unconscientiously; but his conscience was strongly fortified and was
not easily affected by the circumstances of the examination or the
arguments for the defense. Like a good many judges, he thought but
little of the indulgence of the jury, and when a prisoner was brought
before him, after having passed through the sieve of inquest,
inquiry, and examination, there was every presumption in his eyes
that the man was quite ten times guilty.

Jarriquez, however, was not a bad man. Nervous, fidgety, talkative,
keen, crafty, he had a curious look about him, with his big head on
his little body; his ruffled hair, which would not have disgraced the
judges wig of the past; his piercing gimlet-like eyes, with their
expression of surprising acuteness; his prominent nose, with which he
would assuredly have gesticulated had it been movable; his ears wide
open, so as to better catch all that was said, even when it was out
of range of ordinary auditory apparatus; his fingers unceasingly
tapping the table in front of him, like those of a pianist practicing
on the mute; and his body so long and his legs so short, and his feet
perpetually crossing and recrossing, as he sat in state in his
magistrate's chair.

In private life, Jarriquez, who was a confirmed old bachelor, never
left his law-books but for the table which he did not despise; for
chess, of which he was a past master; and above all things for
Chinese puzzles, enigmas, charades, rebuses, anagrams, riddles, and
such things, with which, like more than one European
justice--thorough sphinxes by taste as well as by profession--he
principally passed his leisure.

It will be seen that he was an original, and it will be seen also how
much Joam Dacosta had lost by the death of Judge Ribeiro, inasmuch as
his case would come before this not very agreeable judge.

Moreover, the task of Jarriquez was in a way very simple. He had
either to inquire nor to rule; he had not even to regulate a
discussion nor to obtain a verdict, neither to apply the articles of
the penal code nor to pronounce a sentence. Unfortunately for the
fazender, such formalities were no longer necessary; Joam Dacosta had
been arrested, convicted, and sentenced twenty-three years ago for
the crime at Tijuco; no limitation had yet affected his sentence. No
demand in commutation of the penalty could be introduced, and no
appeal for mercy could be received. It was only necessary then to
establish his identity, and as soon as the order arrived from Rio
Janeiro justice would have to take its course.

But in the nature of things Joam Dacosta would protest his innocence;
he would say he had been unjustly condemned. The magistrate's duty,
notwithstanding the opinions he held, would be to listen to him. The
question would be, what proofs could the convict offer to make good
his assertions? And if he was not able to produce them when he
appeared before his first judges, was he able to do so now?

Herein consisted all the interest of the examination. There would
have to be admitted the fact of a defaulter, prosperous and safe in a
foreign country, leaving his refuge of his won free will to face the
justice which his past life should have taught him to dread, and
herein would be on of those rare and curious cases which ought to
interest even a magistrate hardened with all the surroundings of
forensic strife. Was it impudent folly on the part of the doomed man
of Tijuco, who was tired of his life, or was it the impulse of a
conscience which would at all risks have wrong set right? The problem
was a strange one, it must be acknowledged.

On the morrow of Joam Dacosta's arrest, Judge Jarriquez made his way
to the prison in God-the-Son Street, where the convict had been
placed. The prison was an old missionary convent, situated on the
bank of one of the principal iguarapes of the town. To the voluntary
prisoners of former times there had succeeded in this building, which
was but little adapted for the purpose, the compulsory prisoners of
to-day. The room occupied by Joam Dacosta was nothing like one of
those sad little cells which form part of our modern penitentiary
system: but an old monk's room, with a barred window without
shutters, opening on to an uncultivated space, a bench in one corner,
and a kind of pallet in the other. It was from this apartment that
Joam Dacosta, on this 25th of August, about eleven o'clock in the
morning, was taken and brought into the judge's room, which was the
old common hall of the convent.

Judge Jarriquez was there in front of his desk, perched on his high
chair, his back turned toward the window, so that his face was in
shadow while that of the accused remained in full daylight. His
clerk, with the indifference which characterizes these legal folks,
had taken his seat at the end of the table, his pen behind his ear,
ready to record the questions and answers.

Joam Dacosta was introduced into the room, and at a sign from the
judge the guards who had brought him withdrew.

Judge Jarriquez looke at the accused for some time. The latter,
leaning slightly forward and maintaining a becoming attitude, neither
careless nor humble, waited with dignity for the questions to which
he was expected to reply.

"Your name?" said Judge Jarriquez.

"Joam Dacosta."

"Your age?"

"Fifty-two."

"Where do you live?"

"In Peru, at the village of Iquitos."

"Under what name?"

"Under that of Garral, which is that of my mother."

"And why do you bear that name?"

"Because for twenty-three years I wished to hide myself from the
pursuit of Brazilian justice."

The answers were so exact, and seemed to show that Joam Dacosta had
made up his mind to confess everything concerning his past and
present life, that Judge Jarriquez, little accustomed to such a
course, cocked up his nose more than was usual to him.

"And why," he continued, "should Brazilian justice pursue you?"

"Because I was sentenced to death in 1826 in the diamond affair at
Tijuco."

"You confess then that you are Joam Dacosta?"

"I am Joam Dacosta."

All this was said with great calmness, and as simply as possible. The
little eyes of Judge Jarriquez, hidden by their lids, seemed to say:

"Never came across anything like this before."

He had put the invariable question which had hitherto brought the
invariable reply from culprits of every category protesting their
innocence. The fingers of the judge began to beat a gentle tattoo on
the table.

"Joam Dacosta," he asked, "what were you doing at Iquitos?"

"I was a fazender, and engaged in managing a farming establishment of
considerable size."

"It was prospering?"

"Greatly prospering."

"How long ago did you leave your fazenda?"

"About nine weeks."

"Why?"

"As to that, sir," answered Dacosta, "I invented a pretext, but in
reality I had a motive."

"What was the pretext?"

"The responsibility of taking into Para a large raft, and a cargo of
different products of the Amazon."

"Ah! and what was the real motive of your departure?"

And in asking this question Jarriquez said to himself:

"Now we shall get into denials and falsehoods."

"The real motive," replied Joam Dacosta, in a firm voice, "was the
resolution I had taken to give myself up to the justice of my
country."

"You give yourself up!" exclaimed the judge, rising from his stool.
"You give yourself up of your own free will?"

"Of my own free will."

"And why?"

"Because I had had enough of this lying life, this obligatin to live
under a false name, of this impossibility to be able to restore to my
wife and children that which belongs to them; in short, sir,
because----"

"Because?"

"I was innocent!"

"That is what I was waiting for," said Judge Jarriquez.

And while his fingers tattooed a slightly more audible march, he made
a sign with his head to Dacosta, which signified as clearly as
possible, "Go on! Tell me your history. I know it, but I do not wish
to interrupt you in telling it in your own way."

Joam Dacosta, who did not disregard the magistrate's far from
encouraging attitude, could not but see this, and he told the history
of his whole life. He spoke quietly without departing from the calm
he had imposed upon himself, without omitting any circumstances which
had preceded or succeeded his condemnation. In the same tone he
insisted on the honored and honorable life he had led since his
escape, on his duties as head of his family, as husband and father,
which he had so worthily fulfilled. He laid stress only on one
circumstance--that which had brought him to Manaos to urge on the
revision of the proceedings against him, to procure his
rehabilitation--and that he was compelled to do.

Judge Jarriques, who was naturally prepossessed against all
criminals, did not interrupt him. He contented himself with opening
and shutting his eyes like a man who heard the story told for the
hundredth time; and when Joam Dacosta laid on the table the memoir
which he had drawn up, he made no movement to take it.

"You have finished?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"And you persist in asserting that you only left Iquitos to procure
the revision of the judgment against you."

"I had no other intention."

"What is there to prove that? Who can prove that, without the
denunciation which had brought about your arrest, you would have
given yourself up?"

"This memoir, in the first place."

"That memoir was in your possession, and there is nothing to show
that had you not been arrested, you would have put it to the use you
say you intended."

"At the least, sir, there was one thing that was not in my
possession, and of the authenticity of which there can be no doubt."

"What?"

"The letter I wrote to your predecessor, Judge Ribeiro, the letter
which gave him notice of my early arrival."

"Ah! you wrote?"

"Yes. And the letter which ought to have arrived at its destination
should have been handed over to you."

"Really!" answered Judge Jarriquez, in a slightly incredulous tone.
"You wrote to Judge Ribeiro."

"Before he was a judge in this province," answered Joam Dacosta, "he
was an advocate at Villa Rica. He it was who defended me in the trial
at Tijuco. He never doubted of the justice of my cause. He did all he
could to save me. Twenty years later, when he had become chief
justice at Manaos, I let him know who I was, where I was, and what I
wished to attempt. His opinion about me had not changed, and it was
at his advice I left the fazenda, and came in person to proceed with
my rehabilitation. But death had unfortunately struck him, and maybe
I shall be lost, sir, if in Judge Jarriquez I do not find another
Judge Ribeiro."

The magistrate, appealed to so directly, was about to start up in
defiance of all the traditions of the judicial bench, but he managed
to restrain himself, and was contented with muttering:

"Very strong, indeed; very strong!"

Judge Jarriquez was evidently hard of heart, and proof against all
surprise.

At this moment a guard entered the room, and handed a sealed packet
to the magistrate.

He broke the seal and drew a letter from the envelope. He opened it
and read it, not without a certain contraction of his eyebrows, and
then said:

"I have no reason for hiding from you, Joam Dacosta, that this is the
letter you have been speaking about, addressed by you to Judge
Ribeiro and sent on to me. I have, therefore, no reason to doubt what
you have said on the subject."

"Not only on that subject," answered Dacosta, "but on the subject of
all the circumstances of my life which I have brought to your
knowledge, and which are none of them open to question."

"Eh! Joam Dacosta," quickly replie dJudge Jarriquez. "You protest
your innocence; but all prisoners do as much! After all, you only
offer moral presumptions. Have you any material proof?"

"Perhaps I have," answered Joam Dacosta.

At these words, Judge Jarriquez left his chair. This was too much for
him, and he had to take two or three circuits of the room to recover
himself.

CHAPTER V. MATERIAL PROOFS

WHEN THE MAGISTRATE had again taken his place, like a man who
considered he was perfectly master of himself, he leaned back in his
chair, and with his head raised and his eyes looking straight in
front, as though not even noticing the accused, remarked, in a tone
of the most perfect indifference:

"Go on."

Joam Dacosta reflected for a minute as if hesitating to resume the
order of his thoughts, and then answered as follows:

"Up to the present, sir, I have only given you moral presumptions of
my innocence grounded on the dignity, propriety, and honesty of the
whole of my life. I should have thought that such proofs were those
most worthy of being brought forward in matters of justice."

Judge Jarriquez could not restrain a movement of his shoulders,
showing that such was not his opinion.

"Since they are not enough, I proceed with the material proofs which
I shall perhaps be able to produce," continued Dacosta; "I say
perhaps, for I do not yet know what credit to attach to them. And,
sir, I have never spoken of these things to my wife or children, not
wishing to raise a hope which might be destroyed."

"To the point," answered Jarriquez.

"I have every reason to believe, sir, that my arrest on the eve of
the arrival of the raft at Manaos is due to information given to the
chief of the police!"

"You are not mistaken, Joam Dacosta, but I ought to tell you that the
information is anonymous."

"It matters little, for I know that it could only come from a
scoundrel called Torres."

"And what right have you to speak in such a way of this--informer?"

"A scoundrel! Yes, sir!" replied Joam quickly. "This man, whom I
received with hospitality, only came to me to propose that I should
purchase his silence to offer me an odious bargain that I shall never
regret having refused, whatever may be the consequences of his
denunciation!"

"Always this method!" thought Judge Jarriquez; "accusing others to
clear himself."

But he none the less listened with extreme attention to Joam's
recital of his relations with the adventurer up to the moment when
Torres let him know that he knew and could reveal the name of the
true author of the crime of Tijuco.

"And what is the name of the guilty man?" asked Jarriquez, shaken in
his indifference.

"I do not know," answered Joam Dacosta. "Torres was too cautious to
let it out."

"And the culprit is living?"

"He is dead."

The fingers of Judge Jarriquez tattooed more quickly, and he could
not avoid exclaiming, "The man who can furnish the proof of a
prisoner's innocence is always dead."

"If the real culprit is dead, sir, " replied Dacosta, "Torres at
least is living, and the proof, written throughout in the handwriting
of the author of the crime, he has assured me is in his hands! He
offered to sell it to me!"

"Eh! Joam Dacosta!" answered Judge Jarriquez, "that would not have
been dear at the cost of the whole of your fortune!"

"If Torres had only asked my fortune, I would have given it to him
and not one of my people would have demurred! Yes, you are right,
sir; a man cannot pay too dearly for the redemption of his honor! But
this scoundrel, knowing that I was at his mercy, required more than
my fortune!"

"How so?"

"My daughter's hand was to be the cost of the bargain! I refused; he
denounced me, and that is why I am now before you!"

"And if Torres had not informed against you," asked Judge
Jarriquez--"if Torres had not met with you on your voyage, what would
you have done on learning on your arrival of the death of Judge
Ribeiro? Would you then have delivered yourself into the hands of
justice?"

"Without the slightest hesitation," replied Joam, in a firm voice;
"for, I repeat it, I had no other object in leaving Iquitos to come
to Manaos."

This was said in such a tone of truthfulness that Judge Jarriquez
experienced a kind of feeling making its way to that corner of the
heart where convictions are formed, but he did not yet give in.

He could hardly help being astonished. A judge engaged merely in this
examination, he knew nothing of what is known by those who have
followed this history, and who cannot doubt but that Torres held in
his hands the material proof of Joam Dacosta's innocence. They know
that the document existed; that it contained this evidence; and
perhaps they may be led to think that Judge Jarriquez was pitilessly
incredulous. But they should remember that Judge Jarriquez was not in
their position; that he was accustomed to the invariable
protestations of the culprits who came before him. The document which
Joam Dacosta appealed to was not produced; he did not really know if
it actually existed; and to conclude, he had before him a man whose
guilt had for him the certainty of a settled thing.

However, he wished, perhaps through curiosity, to drive Joam Dacosta
behind his last entrenchments.

"And so," he said, "all your hope now rests on the declaration which
has been made to you by Torres."

"Yes, sir, if my whole life does not plead for me."

"Where do you think Torres really is?"

"I think in Manaos."

"And you hope that he will speak--that he will consent to
good-naturedly hand over to you the document for which you have
declined to pay the price he asked?"

"I hope so, sir," replied Joam Dacosta; "the situation now is not the
same for Torres; he has denounced me, and consequently he cannot
retain any hope of resuming his bargaining under the previous
conditions. But this document might still be worth a fortune if,
supposing I am acquitted or executed, it should ever escape him.
Hence his interest is to sell me the document, which can thus not
injure him in any way, and I think he will act according to his
interest."

The reasoning of Joam Dacosta was unanswerable, and Judge Jarriquez
felt it to be so. He made the only possible objection.

"The interest of Torres is doubtless to selel you the document--if
the document exists."

"If it does not exist," answered Joam Dacosta, in a penetrating
voice, "in trusting to the justice of men, I must put my trust only
in God!"

At these words Judge Jarriquez rose, and, in not quite such an
indifferent tone, said, "Joam Dacosta, in examining you here, in
allowing you to relate the particulars of your past life and to
protest your innocence, I have gone further than my instructions
allow me. An information has already been laid in this affair, and
you have appeared before the jury at Villa Rica, whose verdict was
given unanimously, and without even the addition of extenuating
circumstances. You have been found guilty of the instigation of, and
complicity in, the murder of the soldiers and the robbery of the
diamonds at Tijuco, the capital sentence was pronounced on you, and
it was only by flight that you escaped execution. But that you came
here to deliver yourself over, or not, to the hands of justice
twenty-three years afterward, you would never have been retaken. For
the last time, you admit that you are Joam Dacosta, the condemned man
of the diamond arrayal?"

"I am Joam Dacosta."

"You are ready to sign this declaration?"

"I am ready."

And with a hand without a tremble Joam Dacosta put his name to the
foot of the declaration and the report which Judge Jarriquez had made
his clerk draw up.

"The report, addressed to the minister of justice, is to be sent off
to Rio Janeiro," said the magistrate. "Many days will elapse before
we receive orders to carry out your sentence. If then, as you say,
Torres possesses the proof of your innocence, do all you can
yourself--do all you can through your friends--do everything, so that
that proof can be produced in time. Once the order arrives no delay
will be possible, and justice must take its course."

Joam Dacosta bowed slightly.

"Shall I be allowed in the meantime to see my wife and children?" he
asked.

"After to-day, if you wish," answered Judge Jarriquez; "you are no
longer in close confinement, and they can be brought to you as soon
as they apply."

The magistrate then rang the bell. The guards entered the room, and
took away Joam Dacosta.

Judge Jarriquez watched him as he went out, and shook his head and
muttered:

"Well, well! This is a much stranger affair than I ever thought it
would be!"

CHAPTER VI. THE LAST BLOW

WHILE JOAM DACOSTA was undergoing this examination, Yaquita, from an
inquiry made by Manoel, ascertained that she and her children would
be permitted to see the prisoner that very day about four o'clock in
the afternoon.

Yaquita had not left her room since the evening before. Minha and
Lina kept near her, waiting for the time when she would be admitted
to see her husband.

Yaquita Garral or Yaquita Dacosta, he would still find her the
devoted wife and brave companion he had ever known her to be.

About eleven o'clock in the morning Benito joined Manoel and Fragoso,
who were talking in the bow of the jangada.

"Manoel," said he, "I have a favor to ask you."

"What is it?"

"And you too, Fragoso."

"I am at your service, Mr. Benito," answered the barber.

"What is the matter?" asked Manoel, looking at his friend, whose
expression was that of a man who had come to some unalterable
resolution.

"You never doubt my father's innocence? Is that so?" said Benito.

"Ah!" exclaimed Fragoso. "Rather I think it was I who committed the
crime."

"Well, we must now commence on the project I thought of yesterday."

"To find out Torres?" asked Manoel.

"Yes, and know from him how he found out my father's retreat. There
is something inexplicable about it. Did he know it before? I cannot
understand it, for my father never left Iquitos for more than twenty
years, and this scoundrel is hardly thirty! But the day will not
close before I know it; or, woe to Torres!"

Benito's resolution admitted of no discussion; and besides, neither
Manoel nor Fragoso had the slightest thought of dissuading him.

"I will ask, then," continued Benito, "for both of you to accompany
me. We shall start in a minute or two. It will not do to wait till
Torres has left Manaos. He has no longer got his silence to sell, and
the idea might occur to him. Let us be off!"

And so all three of them landed on the bank of the Rio Negro and
started for the town.

Manaos was not so considerable that it could not be searched in a few
hours. They had made up their minds to go from house to house, if
necessary, to look for Torres, but their better plan seemed to be to
apply in the first instance to the keepers of the taverns and lojas
where the adventurer was most likely to put up. There could hardly be
a doubt that the ex-captain of the woods would not have given his
name; he might have personal reasons for avoiding all communication
with the police. Nevertheless, unless he had left Manaos, it was
almost impossible for him to escape the young fellows' search. In any
case, there would be no use in applying to the police, for it was
very probable--in fact, we know that it actually was so--that the
information given to them had been anonymous.

For an hour Benito, Manoel, and Fragoso walked along the principal
streets of the town, inquiring of the tradesmen in their shops, the
tavern-keepers in their cabarets, and even the bystanders, without
any one being able to recognize the individual whose description they
so accurately gave.

Had Torres left Manaos? Would they have to give up all hope of coming
across him?

In vain Manoel tried to calm Benito, whose head seemed on fire. Cost
what it might, he must get at Torres!

Chance at last favored them, and it was Fragoso who put them on the
right track.

In a tavern in Holy Ghost Street, from the description which the
people received of the adventurer, they replied that the individual
inquestion had put up at the loja the evening before.

"Did he sleep here?" asked Fragoso.

"Yes," answered the tavern-keeper.

"Is he here now?"

"No. He has gone out."

"But has he settled his bill, as a man would who has gone for good?"

"By no means; he left his room about an hour ago, and he will
doubtless come back to supper."

"Do you know what road he took when he went out?"

"We saw him turning toward the Amazon, going through the lower town,
and you will probably meet him on that side."

Fragoso did not want any more. A few seconds afterward he rejoined
the young fellows, and said:

"I am on the track."

"He is there!" exclaimed Benito.

"No; he has just gone out, and they have seen him walking across to
the bank of the Amazon."

"Come on!" replied Benito.

They had to go back toward the river, and the shortest way was for
them to take the left bank of the Rio Negro, down to its mouth.

Benito and his companions soon left the last houses of the town
behind, and followed the bank, making a slight detour so as not to be
observed from the jangada.

The plain was at this time deserted. Far away the view exstended
across the flat, where cultivated fields had replaced the former
forests.

Benito did not speak; he could not utter a word. Manoel and Fragoso
respected his silence. And so the three of them went along and looked
about on all sides as they traversed the space between the bank of
the Rio Negro and that of the Amazon. Three-quarters of an hour after
leaving Manaos, and still they had seen nothing!

Once or twice Indians working in the fields were met with. Manoel
questioned them, and one of them at length told him that a man, such
as he described, had just passed in the direction of the angle formed
by the two rivers at their confluence.

Without waiting for more, Benito, by an irresistible movement, strode
to the front, and his two companions had to hurry on to avoid being
left behind.

The left bank of the Amazon was then about a quarter of a mile off. A
sort of cliff appeared ahead, hiding a part of the horizon, and
bounding the view a few hundred paces in advance.

Benito, hurrying on, soon disappeared behind one of the sandy knolls.

"Quicker! quicker!" said Manoel to Fragoso. "We must not leave him
alone for an instant."

And they were dashing along when a shout struck on their ears.

Had Benito caught sight of Torres? What had he seen? Had Benito and
Torres already met?

Manoel and Fragoso, fifty paces further on, after swiftly running
round one of the spurs of the bank, saw two men standing face to face
to each other.

They were Torres and Benito.

In an instant Manoel and Fragoso had hurried up to them. It might
have been supposed that in Benito's state of excitement he would be
unable to restrain himself when he found himself once again in the
presence of the adventurer. It was not so.

As soon as the young man saw himself face to face with Torres, and
was certain that he could not escape, a complete change took place in
his manner, his coolness returned, and he became once more master of
himself.

The two men looked at one another for a few moments without a word.

Torres first broke silence, and, in the impudent tone habitual to
him, remarked:

"Ah! How goes it, Mr. Benito Garral?"

"No, Benito Dacosta!" answered the young man.

"Quite so," continued Torres. "Mr. Benito Dacosta, accompanied by Mr.
Manoel Valdez and my friend Fragoso!"

At the irritating qualification thus accorded him by the adventurer,
Fragoso, who was by no means loath to do him some damage, was about
to rush to the attack, when Benito, quite unmoved, held him back.

"What is the matter with you, my lad?" exclaimed Torres, retreating
for a few steps. "I think I had better put myself on guard."

And as he spoke he drew from beneath his poncho his manchetta, the
weapon, adapted at will for offense or defense, which a Brazilian is
never without. And then, slightly stooping, and planted firmly on his
feet, he waited for what was to follow.

"I have come to look for you, Torres," said Benito, who had not
stirred in the least at this threatening attitude.

"To look for me?" answered the adventurer. "It is not very difficult
to find me. And why have you come to look for me?"

"To know from your own lips what you appear to know of the past life
of my father."

"Really?"

"Yes. I want to know how you recognized him, why yu were prowling
about our fazenda in the forest of Iquitos, and why you were waiting
for us at Tabatinga."

"Well! it seems to me nothing could be clearer!" answered Torres,
with a grin. "I was waiting to get a passage on the jangada, and I
went on board with the intention of making him a very simple
proposition--which possibly he was wrong in rejecting."

At these words Manoel could stand it no longer. With pale face and
eye of fire he strode up to Torres.

Benito, wishing to exhaust every means of conciliation, thrust
himself between them.

"Calm yourself, Manoel!" he said. "I am calm--even I."

And then continuing:

"Quite so, Torres; I know the reason of your coming on board the
raft. Possessed of a secret which was doubtless given to you, you
wanted to make it a means of extortion. But that is not what I want
to know at present."

"What is it, then?"

"I want to know how you recognized Joam Dacosta in the fazenda of
Iquitos?"

"How I recognized him?" replied Torres. "That is my business, and I
see no reason why I should tell you. The important fact is, that I
was not mistaken when I denounced in him the real author of the crime
of Tijuco!"

"You say that to me?" exclaimed Benito, who began to lose his
self-possession.

"I will tell you nothing," returned Torres; "Joam Dacosta declined my
propositions! He refused to admit me into his family! Well! now that
his secret is known, now that he is a prisoner, it is I who refuse to
enter his family, the family of a thief, of a murderer, of a
condemned felon, for whom the gallows now waits!"

"Scoundrel!" exclaimed Benito, who drew his manchetta from his belt
and put himself in position.

Manoel and Fragoso, by a similar movement, quickly drew their
weapons.

"Three against one!" said Torres.

"No! one against one!" answered Benito.

"Really! I should have thought an assassination would have better
suited an assassin's son!"

"Torres!" exclaimed Benito, "defend yourself, or I will kill you like
a mad dog!"

"Mad! so be it!" answered Torres. "But I bite, Benito Dacosta, and
beware of the wounds!"

And then again grasping his manchetta, he put himself on guard and
ready to attack his enemy.

Benito had stepped back a few paces.

"Torres," he said, regaining all his coolness, which for a moment he
had lost; "you were the guest of my father, you threatened him, you
betrayed him, you denounced him, you accused an innocent man, and
with God's help I am going to kill you!"

Torres replied with the most insolent smile imaginable. Perhaps at
the moment the scoundrel had an idea of stopping any struggle between
Benito and him, and he could have done so. In fact he had seen that
Joam Dacosta had said nothing about the document which formed the
material proof of his innocence.

Had he revealed to Benito that he, Torres, possessed this proof,
Benito would have been that instant disarmed. But his desire to wait
till the very last moment, so as to get the very best price for the
document he possessed, the recollection of the young man's insulting
words, and the hate which he bore to all that belonged to him, made
him forget his own interest.

In addition to being thoroughly accustomed to the manchetta, which he
often had had occasion to use, the adventurer was strong, active, and
artful, so that against an adversary who was scarcely twenty, who
could have neither his strength nor his dexgterity, the chances were
greatly in his favor.

Manoel by a last effort wished to insist on fighting him instead of
Benito.

"No, Manoel," was the cool reply, "it is for me alone to avenge my
father, and as everyhthing here ought to be in order, you shall be my
second."

"Benito!"

"As for you, Fragoso, you will not refuse if I ask you to act as
second for that man?"

"So be it," answered Fragoso, "though it is not an office of honor.
Without the least ceremony," he added, "I would have killed him like
a wild beast."

The place where the duel was about to take place was a level bank
about fifty paces long, on the top of a cliff rising perpendicularly
some fifty feet above the Amazon. The river slowly flowed at the
foot, and bathed the clumps of reeds which bristled round its base.

There was, therefore, none too much room, and the combatant who was
the first to give way would quickly be driven over into the abyss.

The signal was given by Manoel, and Torres and Benito stepped
forward.

Benito had complete command over himself. The defender of a sacred
cause, his coolness was unruffled, much more so than that of Torres,
whose conscience insensible and hardened as it was, was bound at the
moment to trouble him.

The two met, and the first blow came from Benito. Torres parried it.
They then jumped back, but almost at the same instant they rushed
together, and with their left hands seized each other by the
shoulder--never to leave go again.

Torres, who was the strongest, struck a side blow with his manchetta
which Benito could not quite parry. His left side was touched, and
his poncho was reddened with his blood. But he quickly replied, and
slightly wounded Torres in the hand.

Several blows were then interchanged, but nothing decisive was done.
The ever silent gaze of Benito pierced the eyes of Torres like a
sword blade thrust to his very heart. Visibly the scoundrel began to
quail. He recoiled little by little, pressed back by his implacable
foe, who was more determined on taking the life of his father's
denouncer than in defending his own. To strike was all that Benito
longed for; to parry was all that the other now attempted to do.

Soon Torres saw himself thrust to the very edge of the bank, at a
spot where, slightly scooped away, it overhung the river. He
perceived the danger; he tried to retake the offensive and regain the
lost ground. His agitation increased, his looks grew livid. At length
he was obliged to stoop beneath the arm which threatened him.

"Die, then!" exclaimed Benito.

The blow was struck full on its chest, but the point of the manchetta
was stopped by a hard substance hidden beneath the poncho of the
adventurer.

Benito renewed his attack, and Torres, whose return thrust did not
touch his adversary, felt himself lost. He was again obliged to
retreat. Then he would have shouted--shouted that the life of Joam
Dacosta depended on his own! He had not time!

A second thrust of the manchetta pierced his heart. He fell backward,
and the ground suddenly failing him, he was precipitated down the
cliff. As a last effort his hands convulsively clutched at a clump of
reeds, but they could not stop him, and he disappeared beneath the
waters of the river.

Benito was supported on Manoel's shoulder; Fragoso grasped his hands.
He would not even give his companions time to dress his wound, which
was very slight.

"To the jangada!" he said, "to the jangada!"

Manoel and Fragoso with deep emotion followed him without speaking a
word.

A quarter of an hour afterward the three reached the bank to which
the raft was moored. Benito and Manoel rushed into the room where
were Yaquita and Minha, and told them all that had passed.

"My son!" "My brother!"

The words were uttered at the same moment.

"To the prison!" said Benito.

"Yes! Come! come!" replied Yaquita.

Benito, followed by Manoel, hurried along his mother, and half an
hour later they arrived before the prison.

Owing to the order previously given by Judge Jarriquez they were
immediately admitted, and conducted to the chamber occupied by the
prisoner.

The door opened. Joam Dacosta saw his wife, his son, and Manoel enter
the room.

"Ah! Joam, my Joam!" exclaimed Yaquita.

"Yaquita! my wife! my children!" replied the prisoner, who opened his
arms and pressed them to his heart.

"My Joam, innocent!"

"Innocent and avenged!" said Benito.

"Avenged? What do you mean?"

"Torres is dead, father; killed by my hand!"

"Dead!--Torres!--Dead!" gasped Joam Dacosta. "My son! You have ruined
me!"

CHAPTER VII. RESOLUTIONS

A FEW HOURS later the whole family had returned to the raft, and were
assembled in the large room. All were there, except the prisoner, on
whom the last blow had just fallen. Benito was quite overwhelmed, and
accused himself of having destroyed his father, and had it not been
for the entreaties of Yaquita, of his sister, of Padre Passanha, and
of Manoel, the distracted youth would in the first moments of despair
have probably made away with himself. But he was never allowed to get
out of sight; he was never left alone. And besides, how could he have
acted otherwise? Ah! why had not Joam Dacosta told him all before he
left the jangada? Why had he refrained from speaking, except before a
judge, of this material proof of his innocence? Why, in his interview
with Manoel after the expulsion of Torres, had he been silent about
the document which the adventurer pretended to hold in his hands?
But, after all, what faith ought he to place in what Torres had said?
Could he be certain that such a document was in the rascal's
possession?

Whatever might be the reason, the family now knew everything, and
that from the lips of Joam Dacosta himself. They knew that Torres had
declared that the proof of the innocence of the convict of Tijuco
actually existed; that the document had been written by the very hand
of the author of the attack; that the criminal, seized by remorse at
the moment of his death, had intrusted it to his companion, Torres;
and that he, instead of fulfilling the wishes of the dying man, had
made the handing over of the document an excuse for extortion. But
they knew also that Torrres had just been killed, and that his body
was engulfed in the waters of the Amazon, and that he died without
even mentioning the name of the guilty man.

Unless he was saved by a miracle, Joam Dacosta might now be
considered as irrevocably lost. The death of Judge Ribeiro on the one
hand, the death of Torres on the other, were blows from which he
could not recover! It should here be said that public opinion at
Manaos, unreasoning as it always is, was all against he prisoner. The
unexpected arrest of Joam Dacosta had revived the memory of the
terrible crime of Tijuco, which had lain forgotten for twenty-three
years. The trial of othe young clerk at the mines of the diamond
arrayal, his capital sentence, his escape a few hours before his
intended execution--all were remembered, analyzed, and commented on.
An article which had just appeared in the O Diario d'o Grand Para,
the most widely circulated journal in these parts, after giving a
history of the circumstances of the crime, showed itself decidedly
hostile to the prisoner. Why should these people believe in Joam
Dacosta's innocence, when they were ignorant of all that his friends
knew--of what they alone knew?

And so the people of Manaos became excited. A mob of Indians and
negroes hurried, in their blind folly, to surround the prison and
roar forth tumultuous shouts of death. In this part of the two
Americas, where executions under Lynch law are of frequent
occurrence, the mob soon surrenders itself to its cruel instincts,
and it was feared that on this occasion it would do justice with its
own hands.

What a night it was for the passengers from the fazenda! Masters and
servants had been affected by the blow! Were not the servants of the
fazenda members of one family? Every one of them would watch over the
safety of Yaquita and her people! On the bank of the Rio Negro there
was a constant coming and going of the natives, evidently excited by
the arrest of Joam Dacosta, and who could say to what excesses these
half-barbarous men might be led?

The time, however, passed without any demonstration against the
jangada.

On the morrow, the 26th of August, as soon as the sun rose, Manoel
and Fragoso, who had never left Benito for an instant during this
terrible night, attempted to distract his attention from his despair.
After taking him aside they made him understand that there was no
time to be lost--that they must make up their minds to act.

"Benito," said Manoel, "pull yourself together! Be a man again! Be a
son again!"

"My father!" exclaimed Benito. "I have killed him!"

"No!" replied Manoel. "With heaven's help it is possible that all may
not be lost!"

"Listen to us, Mr. Benito," said Fragoso.

The young man, passing his hand over his eyes, made a violent effort
to collect himself.

"Benito," continued Manoel, "Torres never gave a hint to put us on
the track of his past life. We therefore cannot tell who was the
author of the crime of Tijuco, or under what conditions it was
committed. To try in that direction is to lose our time."

"And time presses!" added Fragoso.

"Besides," said Manoel, "suppose we do find out who this companion of
Torres was, he is dead, and he could not testify in any way to the
innocence of Joam Dacosta. But it is none the less certain that the
proof of this innocence exists, and there is not room to doubt the
existence of a document which Torres was anxious to make the subject
of a bargain. He told us so himself. The document is a complete
avowal written in the handwriting of the culprit, which relates the
attack in its smallest details, and which clears our father! Yes! a
hundred times, yes! The document exists!"

"But Torres does not exist!" groaned Benito, "and the document has
perished with him!"

"Wait, and don't despair yet!" answered Manoel. "You remember under
what circumstances we made the acquaintance of Torres? It was in the
depths of the forest of Iquitos. He was in pursuit of a monkey which
had stolen a metal case, which it so strangely kept, and the chase
had lasted a couple of hours when the monkey fell to our guns. Now,
do you think that it was for the few pieces of gold contained in the
case that Torres was in such a fury to recover it? and do you not
remember the extraordinary satisfaction which he displayed when we
gave him back the case which we had taken out of the monkey's paw?"

"Yes!" yes!" answered Benito. "This case which I held--which I gave
back to him! Perhaps it contained----"

"It is more than probable! It is certain!" replied Manoel.

"And I beg to add," said Fragoso, "for now the fact recurs to my
memory, that during the time you were at Ega I remained on board, at
Lina's advice, to keep an eye on Torres, and I saw him--yes, I saw
him--reading, and again reading, an old faded paper, and muttering
words which I could not understand."

"That was the document!" exclaimed Benito, who snatched at the
hope--the only one that was left. "But this document; had he not put
it in some place of security?"

"No," answered Manoel--"no; it was too precious for Torres to dream
of parting with it. He was bound to carry it always about with him,
and doubtless in that very case."

"Wait! wait, Manoel!" exclaimed Benito; "I remember--yes, I remember.
During the struggle, at the first blow I struck Torres in his chest,
my manchetta was stopped by some hard substance under his poncho,
like a plate of metal----"

"That was the case!" said Fragoso.

"Yes," replied Manoel; "doubt is impossible! That was the case; it
was in his breast-pocket."

"But the corpse of Torres?"

"We will recover it!"

"But the paper! The water will have stained it, perhaps destroyed it,
or rendered it undecipherable!"

"Why," answered Manoel, "if the metal case which held it was
water-tight?"

"Manoel," replied Benito, who seized on the last hope, "you are
right! The corpse of Torres must be recovered! We will ransack the
whole of this part of the river, if necessary, but we will recover
it!"

The pilot Araujo was then summoned and informed of what they were
going to do.

"Good!" replied he; "I know all the eddies and currents where the Rio
Negro and the Amazon join, and we shall succeed in recovering the
body. Let us take two pirogues, two ubas, a dozen of our Indians, and
make a start."

Padre Passanha was then coming out of Yaquita's room.

Benito went to him, and in a few words told him what they were going
to do to get possession of the document. "Say nothing to my mother or
my sister," he added; "if this last hope fails it will kill them!"

"Go, my lad, go," replied Passanha, "and may God help you in your
search."

Five minutes afterward the four boats started from the raft. After
descending the Rio Negro they arrived near the bank of the Amazon, at
the very place where Torres, mortally wounded, had disappeared
beneath the waters of the stream.

CHAPTER VIII. THE FIRST SEARCH

THE SEARCH had to commence at once, and that for two weighty reasons.

The first of these was--and this was a question of life or
death--that this proof of Joam Dacosta's innocence must be produced
before the arrival of the order from Rio Janeiro. Once the identity
of the prisoner was established, it was impossible that such an order
could be other than the order for his execution.

The second was that the body of Torres should be got out of the water
as quickly as possible so as to regain undamaged the metal case and
the paper it ought to contain.

At this juncture Araujo displayed not only zeal and intelligence, but
also a perfect knowledge of the state of the river at its confluence
with the Rio Negro.

"If Torres," he said to the young men, "had been from the first
carried away by the current, we should have to drag the river
throughout a large area, for we shall have a good many days to wait
for his body to reappear on the surface through the effects of
decomposition."

"We cannot do that," replied Manoel. "This very day we ought to
succeed."

"If, on the contrary," continued the pilot, "the corpse has got stuck
among the reeds and vegetation at the foot of the bank, we shall not
be an hour before we find it."

"To work, then!" answered Benito.

There was but one way of working. The boats approached the bank, and
the Indians, furnished with long poles, began to sound every part of
the river at the base of the bluff which had served for the scene of
combat.

The place had been easily recognized. A track of blood stained the
declivity in its chalky part, and ran perpendicularly down it into
the water; and there many a clot scattered on the reeds indicated the
very spot where the corpse had disappeared.

About fifty feet down stream a point jutted out from the riverside
and kept back the waters in a kind of eddy, as in a large basin.
There was no current whatever near the shore, and the reeds shot up
out of the river unbent. Every hope then existed that Torres' body
had not been carried away by the main stream. Where the bed of the
river showed sufficient slope, it was perhaps possible for the corpse
to have rolled several feet along the ridge, and even there no effect
of the current could be traced.

The ubas and the pirogues, dividing the work among them, limited the
field of their researches to the extreme edge of the eddy, and from
the circumference to the center the crews' long poles left not a
single point unexplored. But no amount of sounding discovered the
body of the adventurer, neither among the clumps of reeds nor on the
bottom of the river, whose slope was then carefully examined.

Two hours after the work had begun they had been led to think that
the body, having probably struck against the declivity, had fallen
off obliquely and rolled beyond the limits of this eddy, where the
action of the current commenced to be felt.

"But that is no reason why we should despair," said Manoel, "still
less why we should give up our search."

"Will it be necessary," exclaimed Benito, "to search the river
throughout its breadth and its length?"

"Throughout its breadth, perhaps," answered Araujo, "throughout its
length, no--fortunately."

"And why?" asked Manoel.

"Because the Amazon, about a mile away from its junction with the Rio
Negro, makes a sudden bend, and at the same time its bed rises, so
that there is a kind of natural barrier, well known to sailors as the
Bar of Frias, which things floating near the surface are alone able
to clear. In short, the currents are ponded back, and they cannot
possibly have any effect over this depression."

This was fortunate, it must be admitted. But was Araujo mistaken? The
old pilot of the Amazon could be relied on. For the thirty years that
he had followed his profession the crossing of the Bar of Frias,
where the current was increased in force by its decrease in depth,
had often given him trouble. The narrowness of the channel and the
elevation of the bed made the passage exceedingly difficult, and many
a raft had there come to grief.

And so Araujo was right in declaring that if the corpse of Torres was
still retained by its weight on the sandy bed of the river, it could
not have been dragged over the bar. It is true that later on, when,
on account of the expansion of the gases, it would again rise to the
surface, the current would bear it away, and it would then be
irrevocably lost down the stream, a long way beyond the obstruction.
But this purely physical effect would not take place for several
days.

They could not have applied to a man who was more skillful or more
conversant with the locality than Araujo, and when he affirmed that
the body could not have been borne out of the narrow channel for more
than a mile or so, they were sure to recover it if they thoroughly
sounded that portion of the river.

Not an island, not an islet, checked the course of the Amazon in
these parts. Hence, when the foot of the two banks had been visited
up to the bar, it was in the bed itself, about five hundred feet in
width, that more careful investigations had to be commenced.

The way the work was conducted was this. The boats taking the right
and left of the Amazon lay alongside the banks. The reeds and
vegetation were tried with the poles. Of the smallest ledges in the
banks in which a body could rest, not one escaped the scrutiny of
Araujo and his Indians.

But all this labor produced no result, and half the day had elapsed
without the body being brought to the surface of the stream.

An hour's rest was given to the Indians. During this time they
partook of some refreshment, and then they returned to their task.

Four of the boats, in charge of the pilot, Benito, Fragoso, and
Manoel, divided the river between the Rio Negro and the Bar of Frias
into four portions. They set to work to explore its very bed. In
certain places the poles proved insufficient to thoroughly search
among the deeps, and hence a few dredges--or rather harrows, made of
stones and old iron, bound round with a solid bar--were taken on
board, and when the boats had pushed off these rakes were thrown in
and the river bottom stirred up in every direction.

It was in this difficult task that Benito and his companions were
employed till the evening. The ubas and pirogues, worked by the oars,
traversed the whole surface of the river up to the bar of Frias.

There had been moments of excitement during this spell of work, when
the harrows, catching in something at the bottom, offered some slight
resistance. They were then hauled up, but in place of the body so
eagerly searched for, there would appear only heavy stones or tufts
of herbage which they had dragged from their sandy bed. No one,
however, had an idea of giving up the enterprise. They none of them
thought of themselves in this work of salvation. Benito, Manoel,
Araujo had not even to stir up the Indians or to encourage them. The
gallant fellows knew that they were working for the fazender of
Iquitos--for the man whom they lvoed, for the chief of the excellent
family who treated their servants so well.

Yes; and so they would have passed the night in dragging the river.
Of every minute lost all knew the value.

A little before the sun disappeared, Araujo, finding it useless to
continue his operations in the gloom, gave the signal for the boats
to join company and return together to the confluence of the Rio
Negro and regain the jangada.

The work so carefully and intelligently conducted was not, however,
at an end.

Manoel and Fragoso, as they came back, dared not mention their ill
success before Benito. They feared that the disappointment would only
force him to some act of despair.

But neither courage nor coolness deserted the young fellow; he was
determined to follow to the end this supreme effort to save the honor
and the life of his father, and he it was who addressed his
companions, and said: "To-morrow we will try again, and under better
conditions if possible."

"Yes," answered Manoel; "you are right, Benito. We can do better. We
cannot pretend to have entirely explored the river along the whole of
the banks and over the whole of its bed."

"No; we cannot have done that," replied Araujo; "and I maintain what
I said--that the body of Torres is there, and that it is there
because it has not been carried away, because it could not be drawn
over the Bar of Frias, and because it will take many days before it
rises to the surface and floats down the stream. Yes, it is there,
and not a demijohn of tafia will pass my lips until I find it!"

This affirmation from the pilot was worth a good deal, and was of a
hope-inspiring nature.

However, Benito, who did not care so much for words as he did for
things, thought proper to reply, "Yes, Araujo; the body of Torres is
in the river, and we shall find it if----"

"If?" said the pilot.

"If it has not become the prey of the alligators!"

Manoel and Fragoso waited anxiously for Araujo's reply.

The pilot was silent for a few moments; they felt that he was
reflecting before he spoke. "Mr. Benito," he said at length, "I am
not in the habit of speaking lightly. I had the same idea as you; but
listen. During the ten hours we have been at work have you seen a
single cayman in the river?"

"Not one," said Fragoso.

"If you have not seen one," continued the pilot, "it was because
there were none to see, for these animals have nothing to keep them
in the white waters when, a quarter of a mile off, there are large
stretches of the black waters, which they so greatly prefer. When the
raft was attacked by some of these creatures it was in a part where
there was no place for them to flee to. Here it is quite different.
Go to the Rio Negro, and there you will see caymans by the score. Had
Torres' body fallen into that tributary there might be no chance of
recovering it. But it was in the Amazon that it was lost, and in the
Amazon it will be found."

Benito, relieved from his fears, took the pilot's hand and chook it,
and contented himself with the reply, "To-morrow, my friends!"

Ten minutes later they were all on board the jangada. During the day
Yaquit had passed some hours with her husband. But before she
started, and when she saw neither the pilot, nor Manoel, nor Benito,
nor the boats, she had guessed the search on which they had gone, but
she said nothing to Joam Dacosta, as she hoped that in the morning
she would be able to inform him of their success.

But when Benito set foot on the raft she perceived that their search
had been fruitless. However, she advanced toward him. "Nothing?" she
asked.

":Nothing," replied Benito. "But the morrow is left to us."

The members of the family retired to their rooms, and nothing more
was said as to what had passed.

Manoel tried to make Benito lie down, so as to take a few hours'
rest.

"What is the good of that?" asked Benito. "Do you think I could
sleep?"

CHAPTER IX. THE SECOND ATTEMPT

ON THE MORROW, the 27th of August, Benito took Manoel apart, before
the sun had risen, and said to him: "Our yesterday's search was vain.
If we begin again under the same conditions we may be just as
unlucky."

"We must do so, however," replied Manoel.

"Yes," continued Benito; "but suppose we do not find the body, can
you tell me how long it will be before it rises to the surface?"

"If Torres," answered Manoel, "had fallen into the water living, and
not mortally wounded, it would take five or six days; but as he only
disappeared after being so wounded, perhaps two or three days would
be enough to bring him up again."

This answer of Manoel, which was quite correct, requires some
explanation. Every human body which falls into the water will float
if equilibrium is established between its density and that of its
liquid bed. This is well known to be the fact, even when a person
does not know how to swim. Under such circumstances, if you are
entirely submerged, and only keep your mouth and nose away from the
water, you are sure to float. But this is not generally done. The
first movement of a drowning man is to try and hold as much as he can
of himself above the water; he holds up his head and lifts up his
arms, and these parts of his body, being no longer supported by the
liquid, do not lose that amount of weight which they would do if
completely immersed. Hence an excess of weight, and eventually entire
submersion, for the water makes its way to the lungs through the
mouth, takes the place of the air which fills them, and the body
sinks to the bottom.

On the other hand, when the man who falls into the water is already
dead the conditions are different, and more favorable for his
floating, for then the movements of which we have spoken are checked,
and the liquid does not make its way to the lungs so copiously, as
there is no attempt to respire, and he is consequently more likely to
promptly reappear. Manoel then was right in drawing the distinction
between the man who falls into the water living and the man who falls
into it dead. In the one case the return to the surface takes much
longer than in the other.

The reappearance of the body after an immersion more or less
prolonged is always determined by the decomposition, which causes the
gases to form. These bring about the expansion of the cellular
tissues, the volume augments and the weight decreases, and then,
weighing less than the water it displaces, the body attains the
proper conditions for floating.

"And thus," continued Manoel, "supposing the conditions continue
favorable, and Torres did not live after he fell into the water, if
the decomposition is not modified by circumstances which we cannot
foresee, he will not reappear before three days."

"We have not got three days," answered Benito. "We cannot wait, you
know; we must try again, and in some new way."

"What can you do?" answered Manoel.

"Plunge down myself beneath the waters," replied Benito, "and search
with my eyes--with my hands."

"Plunge in a hundred times--a thousand times!" exclaimed Manoel. "So
be it. I think, like you, that we ought to go straight at what we
want, and not struggle on with poles and drags like a blind man who
only works by touch. I also think that we cannot wait three days. But
to jump in, come up again, and go down again will give only a short
period for the exploration. No; it will never do, and we shall only
risk a second failure."

"Have you no other plan to propose, Manoel?" asked Benito, looking
earnestly at his friend.

"Well, listen. There is what would seem to be a Providential
circumstance that may be of use to us."

"What is that?"

"Yesterday, as we hurried through Manaos, I noticed that they were
repairing one of the quays on the bank of the Rio Negro. The
submarine works were being carried on with the aid of a diving-dress.
Let us borrow, or hire, or buy, at any price, this apparatus, and
then we may resume our researches under more favorable conditions."

"Tell Araujo, Fragoso, and our men, and let us be off," was the
instant reply of Benito.

The pilot and the barber were informed of the decision with regard to
Manoel's project. Both were ordered to go with the four boats and the
Indians to the basin of Frias, and there to wait for the two young
men.

Manoel and Benito started off without losing a moment, and reached
the quay at Manaos. There they offered the contractor such a price
that he put the apparatus at their service for the whole day.

"Will you not have one of my men," he asked, "to help you?"

"Give us your foreman and one of his mates to work the air-pump,"
replied Manoel.

"But who is going to wear the diving-dress?"

"I am," answered Benito.

"You!" exclaimed Manoel.

"I intend to do so."

It was useless to resist.

An hour afterward the raft and all the instruments necessary for the
enterprise had drifted down to the bank where the boats were waiting.

The diving-dress is well known. By its means men can descend beneath
the waters and remain there a certain time without the action of the
lungs being in any way injured. The diver is clothed in a waterproof
suit of India rubber, and his feet are attached to leaden shoes,
which allow him to retain his upright position beneath the surface.
At the collar of the dress, and about the height of the neck, there
is fitted a collar of copper, on which is screwed a metal globe with
a glass front. In this globe the diver places his head, which he can
move about at his ease. To the globe are attached two pipes; one used
for carrying off the air ejected from the lungs, and which is unfit
for respiration, and the other in communication with a pump worked on
the raft, and bringing in the fresh air. When the diver is at work
the raft remains immovable above him; when the diver moves about on
the bottom of the river the raft follows his movements, or he follows
those of the raft, according to his convenience.

These diving-dresses are now much improved, and are less dangerous
than formerly. The man beneath the liquid mass can easily bear the
additional pressure, and if anything was to be feared below the
waters it was rather some cayman who might there be met with. But, as
had been observed by Araujo, not one of these amphibians had been
seen, and they are well known to prefer the black waters of the
tributaries of the Amazon. Besides, in case of danger, the diver has
always his check-string fastened to the raft, and at the least
warning can be quickly hauled to the surface.

Benito, invariably very cool once his resolution was taken, commenced
to put his idea into execution, and got into the diving dress. His
head disappeared in the metal globe, his hand grasped a sort of iron
spear with which to stir up the vegetation and detritus accumulated
in the river bed, and on his giving the signal he was lowered into
the stream.

The men on the raft immediately commenced to work the air-pump, while
four Indians from the jangada, under the orders of Araujo, gently
propelled it with their long poles in the desired direction.

The two pirogues, commanded one by Fragoso, the other by Manoel,
escorted the raft, and held themselves ready to start in any
direction, should Benito find the corpse of Torres and again bring it
to the surface of the Amazon.

CHAPTER X. A CANNON SHOT

BENITO THEN HAD disappeared beneath the vast sheet which still
covered the corpse of the adventurer. Ah! If he had had the power to
divert the waters of the river, to turn them into vapor, or to drain
them off--if he could have made the Frias basin dry down stream, from
the bar up to the influx of the Rio Negro, the case hidden in Torres'
clothes would already have been in his hand! His father's innocence
would have been recognized! Joam Dacosta, restored to liberty, would
have again started on the descent of the river, and what terrible
trials would have been avoided!

Benito had reached the bottom. His heavy shoes made the gravel on the
bed crunch beneath him. He was in some ten or fifteen feet of water,
at the base of the cliff, which was here very steep, and at the very
spot where Torres had disappeared.

Near him was a tangled mass of reeds and twigs and aquatic plants,
all laced together, which assuredly during the researches of the
previous day no pole could have penetrated. It was consequently
possible that the body was entangled among the submarine shrubs, and
still in the place where it had originally fallen.

Hereabouts, thanks to the eddy produced by the prolongation of one of
the spurs running out into the stream, the current was absolutely
nil. Benito guided his movements by those of the raft, which the
long poles of the Indians kept just over his head.

The light penetrated deep through the clear waters, and the
magnificent sun, shining in a cloudless sky, shot its rays down into
them unchecked. Under ordinary conditions, at a depth of some twenty
feet in water, the view becomes exceedingly blurred, but here the
waters seemed to be impregnated with a luminous fluid, and Benito was
able to descend still lower without the darkness concealing the river
bed.

The young man slowly made his way along the bank. With his iron-shod
spear he probed the plants and rubbish accumulated along its foot.
Flocks of fish, if we can use such an expression, escaped on all
sides from the dense thickets like flocks of birds. It seemed as
though the thousand pieces of a broken mirror glimmered through the
waters. At the same time scores of crustaceans scampered over the
sand, like huge ants hurrying from their hills.

Notwithstanding that Benito did not leave a single point of the river
unexplored, he never caught sight of the object of his search. He
noticed, however, that the slope of the river bed was very abrupt,
and he concluded that Torres had rolled beyond the eddy toward the
center of the stream. If so, he would probably still recover the
body, for the current could hardly touch it at the depth, which was
already great, and seemed sensibly to increase. Benito then resolved
to pursue his investigations on the side where he had begun to probe
the vegetation. This was why he continued to advance in that
direction, and the raft had to follow him during a quarter of an
hour, as had been previously arranged.

The quarter of an hour had elapsed, and Benito had found nothing. He
felt the need of ascending to the surface, so as to once more
experience those physiological conditions in which he could recoup
his strength. In certain spots, where the depth of the river
necessitated it, he had had to descend about thirty feet. He had thus
to support a pressure almost equal to an atmosphere, with the result
of the physical fatigue and mental agitation which attack those who
are not used to this kind of work. Benito then pulled the
communication cord, and the men on the raft commenced to haul him in,
but they worked slowly, taking a minute to draw him up two or three
feet so as not to produce in his internal organs the dreadful effects
of decompression.

As soon as the young man had set foot on the raft the metallic sphere
of the diving-dress was raised, and he took a long breath and sat
down to rest.

The pirogues immediately rowed alongside. Manoel, Fragoso, and Araujo
came close to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Well?" asked Manoel.

"Still nothing! Nothing!"

"Have you not seen a trace?"

"Not one!"

"Shall I go down now?"

"No, Manoel," answered Benito; "I have begun; I know where to go. Let
me do it!"

Benito then explained to the pilot that his intention was to visit
the lower part of the bank up to the Bar of Frias, for there the
slope had perhaps stopped the corpse, if, floating between the two
streams, it had in the least degree been affected by the current. But
first he wanted to skirt the bank and carefully explore a sort of
hole formed in the slope of the bed, to the bottom of which the poles
had evidently not been able to penetrate. Araujo approved of this
plan, and made the necessary preparations.

Manoel gave Benito a little advice. "As you want to pursue your
search on that side," he said, "the raft will have to go over there
obliquely; but mind what you are doing, Benito. That is much deeper
than where you have been yet; it may be fifty or sixty feet, and you
will have to support a pressure of quite two atmospheres. Only
venture with extreme caution, or you may lose your presence of mind,
or no longer know where you are or what to do. If your head feels as
if in a vice, and your ears tingle, do not hesitate to give us the
signal, and we will at once haul you up. You can then begin again if
you like, as you will have got accustomed to move about in the deeper
parts of the river."

Benito promised to attend to these hints, of which he recognized the
importance. He was particularly struck with the fact that his
presence of mind might abandon him at the very moment he wanted it
most.

Benito shook hands with Manoel; the sphere of the diving-dress was
again screwed to his neck, the pump began to work, and the diver once
more disappeared beneath the stream.

The raft was then taken about forty feet along the left bank, but as
it moved toward the center of the river the current increased in
strength, the ubas were moored, and the rowers kept it from drifting,
so as only to allow it to advance with extreme slowness.

Benito descended very gently, and again found himself on the firm
sand. When his heels touched the ground it could be seen, by the
length of the haulage cord, that he was at a depth of some sixty-five
or seventy feet. He was therefore in a considerable hole, excavated
far below the ordinary level.

The liquid medium was more obscure, but the limpidity of these
transparent waters still allowed the light to penetrate sufficiently
for Benito to distinguish the objects scattered on the bed of the
river, and to approach them with some safety. Besides, the sand,
sprinkled with mica flakes, seemed to form a sort of reflector, and
the very grains could be counted glittering like luminous dust.

Benito moved on, examining and sounding the smallest cavities with
his spear. He continued to advance very slowly; the communication
cord was paid out, and as the pipes which served for the inlet and
outlet of the air were never tightened, the pump was worked under the
proper conditions.

Benito turned off so as to reach the middle of the bed of the Amazon,
where there was the greatest depression. Sometimes profound obscurity
thickened around him, and then he could see nothing, so feeble was
the light; but this was a purely passing phenomenon, and due to the
raft, which, floating above his head, intercepted the solar rays and
made the night replace the day. An instant afterward the huge shadow
would be dissipated, and the reflection of the sands appear again in
full force.

All the time Benito was going deeper. He felt the increase of the
pressure with which his body was wrapped by the liquid mass. His
respiration became less easy; the retractibility of his organs no
longer worked with as much ease as in the midst of an atmosphere more
conveniently adapted for them. And so he found himself under the
action of physiological effects to which he was unaccustomed. The
rumbling grew louder in his ears, but as his thought was always
lucid, as he felt that the action of his brain was quite clear--even
a little more so than usual--he delayed giving the signal for return,
and continued to go down deeper still.

Suddenly, in the subdued light which surrounded him, his attention
was attracted by a confused mass. It seemed to take the form of a
corpse, entangled beneath a clump of aquatic plants. Intense
excitement seized him. He stepped toward the mass; with his spear he
felt it. It was the carcass of a huge cayman, already reduced to a
skeleton, and which the current of the Rio Negro had swept into the
bed of the Amazon. Benito recoiled, and, in spite of the assertions
of the pilot, the thought recurred to him that some living cayman
might even then be met with in the deeps near the Bar of Frias!

But he repelled the idea, and continued his progress, so as to reach
the bottom of the depression.

And now he had arrived at a depth of from eighty to a hundred feet,
and consequently was experiencing a pressure of three atmospheres.
If, then, this cavity was also drawn blank, he would have to suspend
his researches.

Experience has shown that the extreme limit for such submarine
explorations lies between a hundred and twenty and a hundred and
thirty feet, and that below this there is great danger, the human
organism not only being hindered from performing his functions under
such a pressure, but the apparatus failing to keep up a sufficient
supply of air with the desirable regularity.

But Benito was resolved to go as far as his mental powers and
physical energies would let him. By some strange presentiment he was
drawn toward this abyss; it seemed to him as though the corpse was
very likely to have rolled to the bottom of the hole, and that
Torres, if he had any heavy things about him, such as a belt
containing either money or arms, would have sunk to the very lowest
point. Of a sudden, in a deep hollow, he saw a body through the
gloom! Yes! A corpse, still clothed, stretched out like a man asleep,
with his arms folded under his head!

Was that Torres? In the obscurity, then very dense, he found it
difficult to see; but it was a human body that lay there, less than
ten paces off, and perfectly motionless!

A sharp pang shot through Benito. His heart, for an instant, ceased
to beat. He thought he was going to lose consciousness. By a supreme
effort he recovered himself. He stepped toward the corpse.

Suddenly a shock as violent as unexpected made his whole frame
vibrate! A logn whip seemed to twine round his body, and in spite of
the thick diving-dress he felt himself lashed again and again.

"A gymnotus!" he said.

It was the only word that passed his lips.

In fact, it was a "puraque," the name given by the Brazilians to
the gymnotus, or electric snake, which had just attacked him.

It is well known that the gymnotus is a kind of eel, with a blackish,
slimy skin, furnished along the back and tail with an apparatus
composed of plates joined by vertical lamellæ, and acted on by nerves
of considerable power. This apparatus is endowed with singular
electrical properties, and is apt to produce very formidable results.
Some of these gymnotuses are about the length of a common snake,
others are about ten feet long, while others, which, however, are
rare, even reach fifteen or twenty feet, and are from eight to ten
inches in diameter.

Gymnotuses are plentiful enough both in the Amazon and its
tributaries; and it was one of these living coils, about ten feet
long, which, after uncurving itself like a bow, again attacked the
diver.

Benito knew what he had to fear from this formidable animal. His
clothes were powerless to protect him. The discharges of the
gymnotus, at first somewhat weak, become more and more violent, and
there would come a time when, exhausted by the shocks, he would be
rendered powerless.

Benito, unable to resist the blows, half-dropped upon the sand. His
limbs were becoming paralyzed little by little under the electric
influences of the gymnotus, which lightly touched his body as it
wrapped him in its folds. His arms even he could not lift, and soon
his spear escaped him, and his hand had not strength enough left to
pull the cord and give the signal.

Benito felt that he was lost. Neither Manoel nor his companions could
suspect the horrible combat which was going on beneath them between
the formidable puraque and the unhappy diver, who only fought to
suffer, without any power of defending himself.

And that at the moment when a body--the body of Torres without a
doubt!--had just met his view.

By a supreme instinct of self-preservation Benito uttered a cry. His
voice was lost in the metallic sphere from which not a sound could
escape!

And now the puraque redoubled its attacks; it gave forth shock after
shock, which made Benito writhe on the sand like the sections of a
divided worm, and his muscles were wrenched again and again beneath
the living lash.

Benito thought that all was over; his eyes grew dim, his limbs began
to stiffen.

But before he quite lost his power of sight and reason he became the
witness of a phenomenon, unexpected, inexplicable, and marvelous in
the extreme.

A deadened roar resounded through the liquid depths. It was like a
thunder-clap, the reverberations of which rolled along the river bed,
then violently agitated by the electrical discharges of the gymnotus.
Benito felt himself bathed as it were in the dreadful booming which
found an echo in the very deepest of the river depths.

And then a last cry escaped him, for fearful was the vision which
appeared before his eyes!

The corpse of the drowned man which had been stretched on the sand
arose! The undulations of the water lifted up the arms, and they
swayed about as if with some peculiar animation. Convulsive throbs
made the movement of the corpse still more alarming.

It was indeed the body of Torres. One of the suns rays shot down to
it through the liquid mass, and Benito recognized the bloated, ashy
features of the scoundrel who fell by his own hand, and hose last
breath had left him beneath the waters.

And while Benito could not make a single movement with his paralyzed
limbs, while his heavy shoes kept him down as if he had been nailed
to the sand, the corpse straightened itself up, the head swayed to
and fro, and disentangling itself from the hole in which it had been
kept by a mass of aquatic weeds, it slowly ascended to the surface of
the Amazon.

CHAPTER XI. THE CONTENTS OF THE CASE

WHAT WAS it that had happened? A purely physical phenomenon, of which
the following is the explanation.

The gunboat Santa Ana, bound for Manaos, had come up the river and
passed the bar at Frias. Just before she reached the embouchure of
the Rio Negro she hoisted her colors and saluted the Brazilian flag.
At the report vibrations were produced along the surface of the
stream, and these vigrations making their way down to the bottom of
the river, had been sufficient to raise the corpse of Torres, already
lightened by the commencement of its decomposition and the distension
of its cellular system. The body of the drowned man had in the
ordinary course risen to the surface of the water.

This well-known phenomenon explains the reappearance of the corpse,
but it must be admitted that the arrival of the Santa Ana was a
fortunate coincidence.

By a shout from Manoel, repeated by all his companions, one of the
pirogues was immediately steered for the body, while the diver was at
the same time hauled up to the raft.

Great was Manoel's emotion when Benito, drawn on to the platform, was
laid there in a state of complete inertia, not a single exterior
movement betraying that he still lived.

Was not this a second corpse which the waters of the Amazon had given
up?

As quickly as possible the diving-dress was taken off him.

Benito had entirely lost consciousness beneath the violent shocks of
the gymnotus.

Manoel, distracted, called to him, breathed into him, and endeavored
to recover the heart's pulsation.

"It beats! It beats!" he exclaimed.

Yes! Benito's heart did still beat, and in a few minutes Manoel's
efforts restored him to life.

"The body! the Body!"

Such were the first words, the only ones which escaped from Benito's
lips.

"There it is!" answered Fragoso, pointing to a pirogue then coming up
to the raft with the corpse.

"But what has been the matter, Benito?" asked Manoel. "Has it been
the want of air?"

"No!" said Benito; "a puraque attacked me! But the noise? the
detonation?"

"A cannon shot!" replied Manoel. "It was the cannon shot which
brought the corpse to the surface."

At this moment the pirogue came up to the raft with the body of
Torres, which had been taken on board by the Indians. His sojourn in
the water had not disfigured him very much. He was easily
recognizable, and there was no doubt as to his identity.

Fragoso, kneeling down in the pirogue, had already begun to undo the
clothes of the drowned man, which came away in fragments.

At the moment Torres' right arm, which was now left bare, attracted
his attention. On it there appeared the distinct scar of an old wound
produced by a blow from a knife.

"That scar!" exclaimed Fragoso. "But--that is good! I remember
now----"

"What?" demanded Manoel.

"A quarrel! Yes! a quarrel I witnessed in the province of Madeira
three years ago. How could I have forgotten it! This Torres was then
a captain of the woods. Ah! I know now where I had seen him, the
scoundrel!"

"That does not matter to us now!" cried Benito. "The case! the case!
Has he still got that?" and Benito was about to tear away the last
coverings of the corpse to get at it.

Manoel stopped him.

"One moment, Benito," he said; and then, turning to the men on the
raft who did not belong to the jangada, and whose evidence could not
be suspected at any future time:

"Just take note, my friends," he said, "of what we are doing here, so
that you can relate before the magistrate what has passed."

The men came up to the pirogue.

Fragoso undid the belt which encircled the body of Torres underneath
the torn poncho, and feeling his breast-pocket, exclaimed:

"The case!"

A cry of joy escaped from Benito. He stretched forward to seize the
case, to make sure than it contained----

"No!" again interrupted Manoel, whose coolness did not forsake him.
"It is necessary that not the slightest possible doubt should exist
in the mind of the magistrate! It is better that disinterested
witnesses should affirm that this case was really found on the corpse
of Torres!"

"You are right," replied Benito.

"My friend," said Manoel to the foreman of the raft, "just feel in
the pocket of the waistcoat."

The foreman obeyed. He drew forth a metal case, with the cover
screwed on, and which seemed to have suffered in no way from its
sojourn in the water.

"The paper! Is the paper still inside?" exclaimed Benito, who could
not contain himself.

"It is for the magistrate to open this case!" answered Manoel. "To
him alone belongs the duty of verifying that the document was found
within it."

"Yes, yes. Again you are right, Manoel," said Benito. "To Manaos, my
friends--to Manaos!"

Benito, Manoel, Fragoso, and the foreman who held the case,
immediately jumped into one of the pirogues, and were starting off,
when Fragoso said:

"And the corpse?"

The pirogue stopped.

In fact, the Indians had already thrown back the body into the water,
and it was drifting away down the river.

"Torres was only a scoundrel," said Benito. "If I had to fight him,
it was God that struck him, and his body ought not to go unburied!"

And so orders were given to the second pirogue to recover the corpse,
and take it to the bank to await its burial.

But at the same moment a flock of birds of prey, which skimmed along
the surface of the stream, pounced on the floating body. They were
urubus, a kind of small vulture, with naked necks and long claws, and
black as crows. In South America they are known as gallinazos, and
their voracity is unparalleled. The body, torn open by their beaks,
gave forth the gases which inflated it, its density increased, it
sank down little by little, and for the last time what remained of
Torres disappeared beneath the waters of the Amazon.

Ten minutes afterward the pirogue arrived at Manaos. Benito and his
companions jumped ashore, and hurried through the streets of the
town. In a few minutes they had reached the dwelling of Judge
Jarriuez, and informed him, through one of his servants, that they
wished to see him immediately.

The judge ordered them to be shown into his study.

There Manoel recounted all that had passed, from the moment when
Torres had been killed until the moment when the case had been found
on his corpse, and taken from his breast-pocket by the foreman.

Although this recital was of a nature to corroborate all that Joam
Dacosta had said on the subject of Torres, and of the bargain which
he had endeavored to make, Judge Jarriquez could not restrain a smile
of incredulity.

"There is the case, sir," said Manoel. "For not a single instant has
it been in our hands, and the man who gives it to you is he who took
it from the body of Torres."

The magistrate took the case and examined it with care, turning it
over and over as though it were made of some precious material. Then
he shook it, and a few coins inside sounded with a metallic ring. Did
not, then, the case contain the document which had been so much
sought after--the document written in the very hand of the true
author of the crime of Tijuco, and which Torres had wished to sell at
such an ignoble price to Joam Dacosta? Was this material proof of the
convict's innocence irrevocably lost?

We can easily imagine the violent agitation which had seized upon the
spectators f this scene. Benito could scarcely utter a word, he felt
his heart ready to burst. "Open it, sir! open the case!" he at last
exclaimed, in a broken voice.

Judge Jarriquez began to unscrew the lid; then, when the cover was
removed, he turned up the case, and from it a few pieces of gold
dropped out and rolled on the table.

"But the paper! the paper!" again gasped Benito, who clutched hold of
the table to save himself from falling.

The magistrate put his fingers into the case and drew out, not
without difficulty, a faded paper, folded with care, and which the
water did not seem to have even touched.

"The document! that is the document!" shouted Fragoso; "that is the
very paper I saw in the hands of Torres!"

Judge Jarriquez unfolded the paper and cast his eyes over it, and
then he turned it over so as to examine it on the back and the front,
which were both covered with writing. "A document it really is!" said
he; "there is no doubt of that. It is indeed a document!"

"Yes," replied Benito; "and that is the document which proves my
father's innocence!"

"I do not know that," replied Judge Jarriquez; "and I am much afraid
it will be very difficult to know it."

"Why?" exclaimed Benito, who became pale as death.

"Because this document is a cryptogram, and----"

"Well?"

"We have not got the key!"

CHAPTER XII. THE DOCUMENT

THIS WAS a contingency which neither Joam Dacosta nor his people
could have anticipated. In fact, as those who have not forgotten the
first scene in this story are aware, the document was written in a
disguised form in one of the numerous systems used in cryptography.

But in which of them?

To discover this would require all the ingenuity of which the human
brain was capable.

Before dismissing Benito and his companions, Judge Jarriquez had an
exact copy made of the document, and, keeping the original, handed it
over to them after due comparison, so that they could communicate
with the prisoner.

Then, making an appointment for the morrow, they retired, and not
wishing to lose an instant in seeing Joam Dacosta, they hastened on
to the prison, and there, in a short interview, informed him of all
that had passed.

Joam Dacosta took the document and carefully examined it. Shaking his
head, he handed it back to his son. "Perhaps," he said, "there is
therein written the proof I shall never be able to produce. But if
that proof escapes me, if the whole tenor of my life does not plead
for me, I have nothing more to expect from the justice of men, and my
fate is in the hands of God!"

And all felt it to be so. If the document remained indecipherable,
the position of the convict was a desperate one.

"We shall find it, father!" exclaimed Benito. "There never was a
document of this sort yet which could stand examination. Have
confidence--yes, confidence! Heaven has, so to speak, miraculously
given us the paper which vindicates you, and, after guiding our hands
to recover it, it will not refuse to direct our brains to unravel
it."

Joam Dacosta shook hands with Benito and Manoel, and then the three
young men, much agitated, retired to the jangada, where Yaquita was
awaiting them.

Yaquita was soon informed of what had happened since the evening--the
reappearance of the body of Torres, the discovery of the document,
and the strange form under which the real culprit, the companion of
the adventurer, had thought proper to write his
confession--doubtless, so that it should not compromise him if it
fell into strange hands.

Naturally, Lina was informed of this unexpected complication, and of
the discovery made by Fragoso that Torres was an old captain of the
woods belonging to the gang who were employed about the mouths of the
Madeira.

"But under what circumstances did you meet him?" asked the young
mulatto.

"It was during one of my runs across the province of Amazones,"
replied Fragoso, "when I was going from village to village, working
at my trade."

"And the scar?"

"What happened was this: One day I arrived at the mission of Aranas
at the moment that Torres, whom I had never before seen, had picked a
quarrel with one of his comrades--and a bad lot they are!--and this
quarrel ended with a stab from a knife, which entered the arm of the
captain of the woods. There was no doctor there, and so I took charge
of the wound, and that is how I made his acquaintance."

"What does it matter after all," replied the young girl, "that we
know what Torres had been? He was not the author of the crime, and it
does not help us in the least."

"No, it does not," answered Fragoso; "for we shall end by reading the
document, and then the innocence of Joam Dacosta will be palpable to
the eyes of all."

This was likewise the hope of Yaquita, of Benito, of Manoel, and of
Minha, and, shut up in the house, they passed long hours in
endeavoring to decipher the writing.

But if it was their hope--and there is no need to insist on that
point--it was none the less that of Judge Jarriquez.

After having drawn up his report at the end of his examination
establishing the identity of Joam Dacosta, the magistrate had sent it
off to headquarters, and therewith he thought he had finished with
the affair so far as he was concerned. It could not well be
otherwise.

On the discovery of the document, Jarriquez suddenly found himself
face to face with the study of which he was a master. He, the seeker
after numerical combinations, the solver of amusing problems, the
answerer of charades, rebuses, logogryphs, and such things, was at
last in his true element.

At the thought that the document might perhaps contain the
justification of Joam Dacosta, he felt all the instinct of the
analyst aroused. Here, before his very eyes, was a cryptogram! And so
from that moment he thought of nothing but how to discover its
meaning, and it is scarcely necessary to say that he made up his mind
to work at it continuously, even if he forgot to eat or to drink.

After the departure of the young people, Judge Jarriquez installed
himself in his study. His door, barred against every one, assured him
of several hours of perfect solitude. His spectacles were on his
nose, his snuff-box on the table. He took a good pinch so as to
develop the finesse and sagacity of his mind. He picked up the
document and became absorbed in meditation, which soon became
materialized in the shape of a monologue. The worthy justice was one
of those unreserved men who think more easily aloud than to himself.
"Let us proceed with method," he said. "No method, no logic; no
logic, no success."

Then, taking the document, he ran through it from beginning to end,
without understanding it in the least.

The document contained a hundred lines, which were divided into half
a dozen paragraphs.

"Hum!" said the judge, after a little reflection; "to try every
paragraph, one after the other, would be to lose precious time, and
be of no use. I had better select one of these paragraphs, and take
the one which is likely to prove the most interesting. Which of them
would do this better than the last, where the recital of the whole
affair is probably summed up? Proper names might put me on the track,
among others that of Joam Dacosta; and if he had anything to do with
this document, his name will evidently not be absent from its
concluding paragraph."

The magistrate's reasoning was logical, and he was decidedly right in
bringing all his resources to bear in the first place on the gist of
the cryptogram as contained in its last paragraph.

Here is the paragraph, for it is necessary to again bring it before
the eyes of the reader so as to show how an analyst set to work to
discover its meaning.

"P h y j s l y d d q f d z x g a s g z z q q e h x g k f n d r x u j
u g I o c y t d x v k s b x h h u y p o h d v y r y m h u h p u y d k
j o x p h e t o z l s l e t n p m v f f o v p d p a j x h y y n o j y
g g a y m e q y n f u q l n m v l y f g s u z m q I z t l b q q y u g
s q e u b v n r c r e d g r u z b l r m x y u h q h p z d r r g c r o
h e p q x u f I v v r p l p h o n t h v d d q f h q s n t z h h h n f
e p m q k y u u e x k t o g z g k y u u m f v I j d q d p z j q s y k
r p l x h x q r y m v k l o h h h o t o z v d k s p p s u v j h d."

At the outset, Judge Jarrizuez noticed that the lines of the document
were not divided either into words or phrases, and that there was a
complete absence of punctuation. This fact could but render the
reading of the document more difficult.

"Let us see, however," he said, "if there is not some assemblage of
letters which appears to form a word--I mean a pronounceable word,
whose number of consonants is in proportion to its vowels. And at the
beginning I see the word phy; further on the word gas. Halloo!
ujugi. Does that mean the African town on the banks of Tanganyika?
What has that got to do with all this? Further on here is the word
ypo. Is it Greek, then? Close by here is rym and puy, and
jox, and phetoz, and jyggay, and mv, and qruz. And before
that we have got red and let. That is good! those are two English
words. Then ohe--syk; then rym once more, and then the word
oto."

Judge Jarriquez let the paper drop, and thought for a few minutes.

"All the words I see in this thing seem queer!" he said. "In fact,
there is nothing to give a clue to their origin. Some look like
Greek, some like Dutch; some have an English twist, and some look
like nothing at all! To say nothing of these series of consonants
which are not wanted in any human pronunciation. Most assuredly it
will not be very easy to find the key to this cryptogram."

The magistrate's fingers commenced to beat a tattoo on his desk--a
kind of reveille to arouse his dormant faculties.

"Let us see," he said, "how many letters there are in the paragraph."

He counted them, pen in hand.

"Two hundred and seventy-six!" he said. "Well, now let us try what
proportion these different letters bear to each other."

This occupied him for some time. The judge took up the document, and,
with his pen in his hand, he noted each letter in alphabetical order.

In a quarter of an hour he had obtained the following table:

a =  3 times
b =  4  --
c =  3  --
d = 16  --
e =  9  --
f = 10  --
g = 13  --
h = 23  --
i =  4  --
j =  8  --
k =  9  --
l =  9  --
m =  9  --
n =  9  --
o = 12  --
p = 16  --
q = 16  --
r = 12  --
s = 10  --
t =  8  --
u = 17  --
v = 13  --
x = 12  --
y = 19  --
z = 12  --
----------------
Total . . . 276 times.

"Ah, ah!" he exclaimed. "One thing strikes me at once, and that is
that in this paragraph all the letters of the alphabet are not used.
That is very strange. If we take up a book and open it by chance it
will be very seldom that we shall hit upon two hundred and
seventy-six letters without all the signs of the alphabet figuring
among them. After all, it may be chance," and then he passed to a
different train of thought. "One important point is to see if the
vowels and consonants are in their normal proportion."

And so he seized his pen, counted up the vowels, and obtained the
following result:

a =  3 times
e =  9  --
i =  4  --
o = 12  --
u = 17  --
y = 19  --
----------------
Total . . . 276 times.

"And thus there are in this paragraph, after we have done our
subtraction, sixty-four vowels and two hundred and twelve consonants.
Good! that is the normal proportion. That is about a fifth, as in the
alphabet, where there are six vowels among twenty-six letters. It is
possible, therefore, that the document is written in the language of
our country, and that only the signification of each letter is
changed. If it has been modified in regular order, and a b is
always represented by an l, and o by a v, a g by a k, an
u by an r, etc., I will give up my judgeship if I do not read it.
What can I do better than follow the method of that great analytical
genius, Edgar Allan Poe?"

Judge Jarriquez herein alluded to a story by the great American
romancer, which is a masterpiece. Who has not read the "Gold Bug?" In
this novel a cryptogram, composed of ciphers, letters, algebraic
signs, asterisks, full-stops, and commas, is submitted to a truly
mathematical analysis, and is deciphered under extraordinary
conditions, which the admirers of that strange genius can never
forget. On the reading of the American document depended only a
treasure, while on that of this one depended a man's life. Its
solution was consequently all the more interesting.

The magistrate, who had often read and re-read his "Gold Bug," was
perfectly acquainted with the steps in the analysis so minutely
described by Edgar Poe, and he resolved to proceed in the same way on
this occasion. In doing so he was certain, as he had said, that if
the value or signification of each letter remained constant, he
would, sooner or later, arrive at the solution of the document.

"What did Edgar Poe do?" he repeated. "First of all he began by
finding out the sign--here there are only letters, let us say the
letter--which was reproduced the oftenest. I see that that is h,
for it is met with twenty-three times. This enormous proportion
shows, to begin with, that h does not stand for h, but, on the
contrary, that it represents the letter which recurs most frequently
in our language, for I suppose the document is written in Portuguese.
In English or French it would certainly be e, in Italian it would
be i or a, in Portuguese it will be a or o. Now let us say
that it signifies a or o."

After this was done, the judge found out the letter which recurred
most frequently after h, and so on, and he formed the following
table:

h = 23 times
y = 19  --
u = 17  --
d p q = 16  --
g v = 13  --
o r x z = 12  --
f s = 10  --
e k l m n =  9  --
j t =  8  --
b i =  8  --
a c =  8  --

"Now the letter a only occurs thrice!" exclaimed the judge, "and it
ought to occur the oftenest. Ah! that clearly proves that the meaning
had been changed. And now, after a or o, what are the letters
which figure oftenest in our language? Let us see," and Judge
Jarriquez, with truly remarkable sagacity, which denoted a very
observant mind, started on this new quest. In this he was only
imitating the American romancer, who, great analyst as he was, had,
by simple induction, been able to construct an alphabet corresponding
to the signs of the cryptogram and by means of it to eventually read
the pirate's parchment note with ease.

The magistrate set to work in the same way, and we may affirm that he
was no whit inferior to his illustrious master. Thanks to his
previous work at logogryphs and squares, rectangular arrangements and
other enigmas, which depend only on an arbitrary disposition of the
letters, he was already pretty strong in such mental pastimes. On
this occasion he sought to establish the order in which the letters
were reproduced--vowels first, consonants afterward.

Three hours had elapsed since he began. He had before his eyes an
alphabet which, if his procedure were right, would give him the right
meaning of the letters in the document. He had only to successively
apply the letters of his alphabet to those of his paragraph. But
before making this application some slight emotion seized upon the
judge. He fully experienced the intellectual gratification--much
greater than, perhaps, would be thought--of the man who, after hours
of obstinate endeavor, saw the impatiently sought-for sense of the
logogryph coming into view.

"Now let us try," he said; "and I shall be very much surprised if I
have not got the solution of the enigma!"

Judge Jarriquez took off his spectacles and wiped the glasses; then
he put them back again and bent over the table. His special alphabet
was in one hand, the cryptogram in the other. He commenced to write
under the first line of the paragraph the true letters, which,
according to him, ought to correspond exactly with each of the
cryptographic letters. As with the first line so did he with the
second, and the third, and the fourth, until he reached the end of
the paragraph.

Oddity as he was, he did not stop to see as he wrote if the
assemblage of letters made intelligible words. No; during the first
stage his mind refused all verification of that sort. What he desired
was to give himself the ecstasy of reading it all straight off at
once.

And now he had done.

"Let us read!" he exclaimed.

And he read. Good heavens! what cacophony! The lines he had formed
with the letters of his alphabet had no more sense in them that those
of the document! It was another series of letters, and that was all.
They formed no word; they had no value. In short, they were just as
hieroglyphic.

"Confound the thing!" exclaimed Judge Jarriquez.

CHAPTER XIII. IS IT A MATTER OF FIGURES?

IT WAS SEVEN o'clock in the evening. Judge Jarriquez had all the time
been absorbed in working at the puzzle--and was no further
advanced--and had forgotten the time of repast and the time of
repose, when there came a knock at his study door.

It was time. An hour later, and all the cerebral substance of the
vexed magistrate would certainly have evaporated under the intense
heat into which he had worked his head.

At the order to enter--which was given in an impatient tone--the door
opened and Manoel presented himself.

The young doctor had left his friends on board the jangada at work on
the indecipherable document, and had come to see Judge Jarriquez. He
was anxious to know if he had been fortunate in his researches. He
had come to ask if he had at length discovered the system on which
the cryptogram had been written.

The magistrate was not sorry to see Manoel come in. He was in that
state of excitement that solitude was exasperating to him. He wanted
some one to speak to, some one as anxious to penetrate the mystery as
he was. Manoel was just the man.

"Wir," said Manoel as he entered, "one question! Have you succeeded
better than we have?"

"Sit down first," exclaimed Judge Jarriquez, who got up and began to
pace the room. "Sit down. If we are both of us standing, you will
walk one way and I shall walk the other, and the room will be too
narrow to hold us."

Manoel sat down and repeated his question.

"No! I have not had any success!" replied the magistrate; "I do not
think I am any better off. I have got nothing to tell you; but I have
found out a certainty."

"What is that, sir?"

"That the document is not based on conventional signs, but on what is
known in cryptology as a cipher, that is to say, on a number."

"Well, sir," answered Manoel, "cannot a document of that kind always
be read?"

"Yes," said Jarriquez, "if a letter is invariably represented by the
same letter; if an a, for example, is always a p, and a p is
always an x; if not, it cannot."

"And in this document?"

"In this document the value of the letter changes with the
arbitrarily selected cipher which necessitates it. So a b will in
one place be represented by a k will later on become a z, later
on an u or an n or an f, or any other letter."

"And then?"

"And then, I am sorry to say, the cryptogram is indecipherable."

"Indecipherable!" exclaimed Manoel. "No, sir; we shall end by finding
the key of the document on which the man's life depends."

Manoel had risen, a prey to the excitement he could not control; the
reply he had received was too hopeless, and he refused to accept it
for good.

At a gesture from the judge, however, he sat down again, and in a
calmer voice asked:

"And in the first place, sir, what makes you think that the basis of
this document is a number, or, as you call it, a cipher?"

"Listen to me, young man," replied the judge, "and you will be forced
to give in to the evidence."

The magistrate took the document and put it before the eyes of Manoel
and showed him what he had done.

"I began," he said, "by treating this document in the proper way,
that is to say, logically, leaving nothing to chance. I applied to it
an alphabet based on the proportion the letters bear to one another
which is usual in our language, and I sought to obtain the meaning by
following the precepts of our immortal analyst, Edgar Poe. Well, what
succeeded with him collapsed with me."

"Collapsed!" exclaimed Manoel.

"Yes, my dear young man, and I at once saw that success sought in
that fashion was impossible. In truth, a stronger man than I might
have been deceived."

"But I should like to understand," said Manoel, "and I do not----"

"Take the document," continued Judge Jarriquez; "first look at the
disposition of the letters, and read it through."

Manoel obeyed.

"Do you not see that the combination of several of the letters is
very strange?" asked the magistrate.

"I do not see anything," said Manoel, after having for perhaps the
hundredth time read through the document.

"Well! study the last paragraph! There you understand the sense of
the whole is bound to be summed up. Do you see anything abnormal?"

"Nothing."

"There is, however, one thing which absolutely proves that the
language is subject to the laws of number."

"And that is?"

"That is that you see three h's coming together in two different
places."

What Jarriquez said was correct, and it was of a nature to attract
attention. The two hundred and fourth, two hundred and fifth, and two
hundred and sixth letters of the paragraph, and the two hundred and
fifty-eight, two hundred and fifty-ninth, and two hundred and
sixtieth letters of the paragraph were consecutive h's. At first
this peculiarity had not struck the magistrate.

"And that proves?" asked Manoel, without divining the deduction that
could be drawn from the combination.

"That simply proves that the basis of the document is a number. It
shows à priori that each letter is modified in virtue of the
ciphers of the number and according to the place which it occupies."

"And why?"

"Because in no language will you find words with three consecutive
repetitions of the letter h."

Manoel was struck with the argument; he thought about it, and, in
short, had no reply to make."

"And had I made the observation sooner," continued the magistrate, "I
might have spared myself a good deal of trouble and a headache which
extends from my occiput to my sinciput."

"But, sir," asked Manoel, who felt the little hope vanishing on which
he had hitherto rested, "what do you mean by a cipher?"

"Tell me a number."

"Any number you like."

"Give me an example and you will understand the explanation better."

Judge Jarriquez sat down at the table, took up a sheet of paper and a
pencil, and said:

"Now, Mr. Manoel, let us choose a sentence by chance, the first that
comes; for instance:

Judge Jarriquez has an ingenious mind.

I write this phrase so as to space the letters different and I get:

Judgejarriquezhasaningeniousmind.

That done" said the magistrate, to whom the phrase seemed to contain
a proposition beyond dispute, looking Manoel straight in the face,
"suppose I take a number by chance, so as to give a cryptographic
form to this natural succession of words; suppose now this word is
composed ot three ciphers, and let these ciphers be 2, 3, and 4. Now
on the line below I put the number 234, and repeat it as many times
as are necessary to get to the end of the phrase, and so that every
cipher comes underneath a letter. This is what we get:

J u d g e j a r r I q u e z h a s a n I n g e n I o u s m I n d
2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4 2 3 4

And now, Mr. Manoel, replacing each letter by the letter in advance
of it in alphabetical order according to the value of the ciper, we
get:

j + 2 = l
u + 3 = x
d + 4 = h
g + 2 = i
e + 3 = h
j + 4 = n
a + 2 = c
r + 3 = u
r + 4 = v
i + 2 = k
q + 3 = t
u + 4 = y
e + 2 = g
a + 3 = c
h + 4 = t
a + 2 = c
s + 3 = v
a + 4 = e
n + 2 = p
i + 3 = l
n + 4 = r
g + 2 = i
e + 3 = h
n + 4 = r
i + 2 = k
o + 3 = r
u + 4 = y
s + 2 = u

and so on.

"If, on account of the value of the ciphers which compose the number
I come to the end of the alphabet without having enough complementary
letters to deduct, I begin again at the beginning. That is what
happens at the end of my name when the z is replaced by the 3. As
after z the alphabet has no more letters, I commence to count from
a, and so get the c. That done, when I get to the end of this
cryptographic system, made up of the 234--which was arbitrarily
selected, do not forget!--the phrase which you recognize above is
replace by

lxhihncuvktygclveplrihrkryupmpg.

"And now, young man, just look at it, and do you not think it is very
much like what is in the document? Well, what is the consequence?
Why, that the signification of the letters depends on a cipher which
chance puts beneath them, and the cryptographic letter which answers
to a true one is not always the same. So in this phrase the first j
is represented by an l, the second by an n; the first e by an
h, the second b a g, the third by an h; the first d is
represented by an h, the last by a g; the first u by an x,
the last by a y; the first and second a's by a c, the last by
an e; and in my own name one r is represented by a u, the other
by a v. and so on. Now do you see that if you do not know the
cipher 234 you will never be able to read the lines, and consequently
if we do not know the number of the document it remains
undecipherable."

On hearing the magistrate reason with such careful logic, Manoel was
at first overwhelmed, but, raising his head, he exclaimed:

"No, sir, I will not renounce the hope of finding the number!"

"We might have done so," answered Judge Jarriquez, "if the lines of
the document had been divided into words."

"And why?"

"For this reason, young man. I think we can assume that in the last
paragraph all that is written in these earlier paragraphs is summed
up. Now I am convinced that in it will be found the name of Joam
Dacosta. Well, if the lines had been divided into words, in trying
the words one after the other--I mean the words composed of seven
letters, as the name of Dacosta is--it would not have been impossible
to evolve the number which is the key of the document."

"Will you explain to me how you ought to proceed to do that, sir?"
asked Manoel, who probably caught a glimpse of one more hope.

"Nothing can be more simple," answered the judge. "Let us take, for
example, one of the words in the sentence we have just written--my
name, if you like. It is represented in the cryptogram by this queer
succession of letters, ncuvktygc. Well, arranging these letters in
a column, one under the other, and then placing against them the
letters of my name and deducting one from the other the numbers of
their places in alphabetical order, I see the following result:

Between n and j we have 4 letters
--    c -- a    --    2    --
--    u -- r    --    3    --
--    v -- r    --    4    --
--    k -- i    --    2    --
--    t -- q    --    3    --
--    y -- u    --    4    --
--    g -- e    --    2    --
--    c -- z    --    3    --

"Now what is the column of ciphers made up of that we have got by
this simple operation? Look here! 423 423 423, that is to say, of
repetitions of the numbers 423, or 234, or 342."

"Yes, that is it!" answered Manoel.

"You understand, then, by this means, that in calculating the true
letter from the false, instead of the false from the true, I have
been able to discover the number with ease; and the number I was in
search of is really the 234 which I took as the key of my
cryptogram."

"Well, sir!" exclaimed Manoel, "if that is so, the name of Dacosta is
in the last paragraph; and taking successively each letter of those
lines for the first of the seven letters which compose his name, we
ought to get----"

"That would be impossible," interrupted the judge, "except on one
condition."

"What is that?"

"That the first cipher of the number should happen to be the first
letter of the word Dacosta, and I think you will agree with me that
that is not probable."

"Quite so!" sighed Manoel, who, with this improbability, saw the last
chance vanish.

"And so we must trust to chance alone," continued Jarriquez, who
shook his head, "and chance does not often do much in things of this
sort."

"But still," said Manoel, "chance might give us this number."

"This number," exclaimed the magistrate--"this number? But how many
ciphers is it composed of? Of two, or three, or four, or nine, or
ten? Is it made of different ciphers only or of ciphers in different
order many times repeated? Do you not know, young man, that with the
ordinary ten ciphers, using all at a time, but without any
repetition, you can make three million two hundred and sixty-eight
thousand and eight hundred different numbers, and that if you use the
same cipher more than once in the number, these millions of
combinations will be enormously increased! And do you not know that
if we employ every one of the five hundred and twenty-five thousand
and six hundred minutes of which the year is composed to try at each
of these numbers, it would take you six years, and that you would
want three centuries if each operation you an hour? No! You ask the
impossible!"

"Impossible, sir?" answered Manoel. "An innocent man has been branded
as guilty, and Joam Dacosta is to lose his life and his honor while
you hold in your hands the material proof of his innocence! That is
what is impossible!"

"Ah! young man!" exclaimed Jarriquez, "who told you, after all, that
Torres did not tell a lie? Who told you that he really did have in
his hands a document written by the author of the crime? that this
paper was the document, and that this document refers to Joam
Dacosta?"

"Who told me so?" repeated Manoel, and his face was hidden in his
hands.

In fact, nothing could prove for certain that the document had
anything to do with the affair in the diamond province. There was, in
fact, nothing to show that it was not utterly devoid of meaning, and
that it had been imagined by Torres himself, who was as capable of
selling a false thing as a true one!

"It does not matter, Manoel," continued the judge, rising; "it does
not matter! Whatever it may be to which the document refers, I have
not yet given up discovering the cipher. After all, it is worth more
than a logogryph or a rebus!"

At these words Manoel rose, shook hands with the magistrate, and
returned to the jangada, feeling more hopeless when he went back than
when he set out.

CHAPTER XIV. CHANCE!

A COMPLETE change took place in public opinion on the subject of Joam
Dacosta. To anger succeeded pity. The population no longer thronged
to the prison of Manaos to roar out cries of death to the prisoner.
On the contrary, the most forward of them in accusing him of being
the principal author of the crime of Tijuco now averred that he was
not guilty, and demanded his immediate restoration to liberty. Thus
it always is with the mob--from one extreme they run to the other.
But the change was intelligible.

The events which had happened during the last few days--the struggle
between Benito and Torres; the search for the corpse, which had
reappeared under such extraordinary circumstances; the finding of the
"indecipherable" document, if we can so call it; the information it
concealed, the assurance that it contained, or rather the wish that
it contained, the material proof of the guiltlessness of Joam
Dacosta; and the hope that it was written by the real culprit--all
these things had contributed to work the change in public opinion.
What the people had desired and impatiently demanded forty-eight
hours before, they now feared, and that was the arrival of the
instructions due from Rio de Janeiro.

These, however, were not likely to be delayed.

Joam Dacosta had been arrested on the 24th of August, and examined
next day. The judge's report was sent off on the 26th. It was now the
28th. In three or four days more the minister would have come to a
decision regarding the convict, and it was only too certain that
justice would take its course.

There was no doubt that such would be the case. On the other hand,
that the assurance of Dacosta's innocence would appear from the
document, was not doubted by anybody, neither by his family nor by
the fickle population of Manaos, who excitedly followed the phases of
this dramatic affair.

But, on the other hand, in the eyes of disinterested or indifferent
persons who were not affected by the event, what value could be
assigned to this document? and how could they even declare that it
referred to the crime in the diamond arrayal? It existed, that was
undeniable; it had been found on the corpse of Torres, nothing could
be more certain. It could even be seen, by comparing it with the
letter in which Torres gave the information about Joam Dacosta, that
the document was not in the handwriting of the adventurer. But, as
had been suggested by Judge Jarriquez, why should not the scoundrel
have invented it for the sake of his bargain? And this was less
unlikely to be the case, considering that Torres had declined to part
with it until after his marriage with Dacosta's daughter--that is to
say, when it would have been impossible to undo an accomplished fact.

All these views were held by some people in some form, and we can
quite understand what interest the affair created. In any case, the
situation of Joam Dacosta was most hazardous. If trhe document were
not deciphered, it would be just the same as if it did not exist; and
if the secret of the cryptogram were not miraculously divined or
revealed before the end of the three days, the supreme sentence would
inevitably be suffered by the doomed man of Tijuco. And this miracle
a man attempted to perform! The man was Jarriquez, and he now really
set to work more in the interest of Joam Dacosta than for the
satisfaction of his analytical faculties. A complete change had also
taken place in his opinion. Was not this man, who had voluntarily
abandoned his retreat at Iquitos, who had come at the risk of his
life to demand his rehabilitation at the hands of Brazilian justice,
a moral enigma worth all the others put together? And so the judge
had resolved never to leave the document until he had discovered the
cipher. He set to work at it in a fury. He ate no more; he slept no
more! All his time was passed in inventing combinations of numbers,
in forging a key to force this lock!

This idea had taken possession of Judge Jarriquez's brain at the end
of the first day. Suppressed frenzy consumed him, and kept him in a
perpetual heat. His whole house trembled; his servants, black or
white, dared not come near him. Fortunately he was a bachelor; had
there been a Madame Jarriquez she would have had a very uncomfortable
time of it. Never had a problem so taken possession of this oddity,
and he had thoroughly made up his mind to get at the solution, even
if his head exploded like an overheated boiler under the tension of
its vapor.

It was perfectly clear to the mind of the worthy magistrate that the
key to the document was a number, composed of two or more ciphers,
but what this number was all investigation seemed powerless to
discover.

This was the enterprise on which Jarriquez, in quite a fury, was
engaged, and during this 28th of August he brought all his faculties
to bear on it, and worked away almost superhumanly.

To arrive at the number by chance, he said, was to lose himself in
millions of combinations, which would absorb the life of a first-rate
calculator. But if he could in no respect reckon on chance, was it
impossible to proceed by reasoning? Decidedly not! And so it was "to
reason till he became unreasoning" that Judge Jarriquez gave himself
up after vainly seeking repose in a few hours of sleep. He who
ventured in upon him at this moment, after braving the formal
defenses which protected his solitude, would have found him, as on
the day before, in his study, before his desk, with the document
under his eyes, the thousands of letters of which seemed all jumbled
together and flying about his head.

"Ah!" he explaimed, "why did not the scoundrel who wrote this
separate the words in this paragraph? We might--we will try--but no!
However, if there is anything here about the murder and the robbery,
two or three words there must be in it--'arrayal,' 'diamond,'
'Tijuco,' 'Dacosta,' and others; and in putting down their
cryptological equivalents the number could be arrived at. But there
is nothing--not a single break!--not one word by itself! One word of
two hundred and seventy-six letters! I hope the wretch may be blessed
two hundred and seventy-six times for complicating his system in this
way! He ought to be hanged two hundred and seventy-six times!"

And a violent thump with his fist on the document emphasized this
charitable wish.

"But," continued the magistrate, "if I cannot find one of the words
in the body of the document, I might at least try my hand at the
beginning and end of each paragraph. There may be a chance there that
I ought not to miss."

And impressed with this idea Judge Jarriquez successively tried if
the letters which commenced or finished the different paragraphs
could be made to correspond with those which formed the most
important word, which was sure to be found somewhre, that of
Dacosta.

He could do nothing of the kind.

In fact, to take only the last paragraph with which he began, the
formula was:

P  =  D
h  =  a
y  =  c
f  =  o
s  =  s
l  =  t
y  =  a

Now, at the very first letter Jarriquez was stopped in his
calculations, for the difference in alphabetical position between the
d and the p gave him not one cipher, but two, namely, 12, and in
this kind of cryptograph only one letter can take the place of
another.

It was the same for the seven last letters of the paragraph, p s u v
j h d, of which the series also commences with a p, and which in
no case could stand for the d in Dacosta, because these letters
were in like manner twelve spaces apart.

So it was not his name that figured here.

The same observation applies to the words arrayal and Tijuco,
which were successively tried, but whose construction did not
correspond with the cryptographic series.

After he had got so far, Judge Jarriquez, with his head nearly
splitting, arose and paced his office, went for fresh air to the
window, and gave utterance to a growl, at the noise of which a flock
of hummingbirds, murmuring among the foliage of a mimosa tree, betook
themselves to flight. Then he returned to the document.

He picked it up and turned it over and over.

"The humbig! the rascal!" he hissed; "it will end by driving me mad!
But steady! Be calm! Don't let our spirits go down! This is not the
time!"

And then, having refreshed himself by giving his head a thorough
sluicing with cold water:

"Let us try another way," he said, "and as I cannot hit upon the
number from the arrangement of the letters, let us see what number
the author of the document would have chosen in confessing that he
was the author of the crime at Tijuco."

This was another method for the magistrate to enter upon, and maybe
he was right, for there was a certain amount of logic about it.

"And first let us try a date! Why should not the culprit have taken
the date of the year in which Dacosta, the innocent man he allowed to
be sentenced in his own place, was born? Was he likely to forget a
number which was so important to him? Then Joam Dacosta was born in
1804. Let us see what 1804 will give us as a cryptographical number."

And Judge Jarriquez wrote the first letters of the paragraph, and
putting over them the number 1804 repeated thrice, he obtained

1804    1804    1804
phyj    slyd    dqfd

Then in counting up the spaced in alphabetical order, he obtained

s.yf    rdy.    cif.

And this was meaningless! And he wanted three letters which he had to
replace by points, because the ciphers, 8, 4, and 4, which command
the three letters, h, d, and d, do not give corresponding letters
in ascending the series.

"That is not it again!" exclaimed Jarriques. "Let us try another
number."

And he asked himself, if instead of this first date the author of the
document had not rather selected the date of the year in which the
crime was committed.

This was in 1826.

And so proceeding as above, he obtained.

1826    1826    1826
phyj    slyd    dqfd

and that gave

o.vd    rdv.    cid.

the same meaningless series, the same absence of sense, as many
letters wanting as in the former instance, and for the same reason.

"Bother the number!" exclaimed the magistrate. "We must give it up
again. Let us have another one! Perhaps the rascal chose the number
of contos representing the amount of the booty!"

Now the value of the stolen diamonds was estimated at eight hundred
and thirty-four contos, or about 2,500,000 francs, and so the formula
became

834    834    834    834
phy    jsl    ydd    qfd

and this gave a result as little gratifying as the others----

het    bph    pa.    ic.

"Confound the document and him who imagined it!" shouted Jarriquez,
throwing down the paper, which was wafted to the other side of the
room. "It would try the patience of a saint!"

But the short burst of anger passed away, and the magistrate, who had
no idea of being beaten, picked up the paper. What he had done with
the first letters of the different paragraphs he did with the
last--and to no purpose. Then he tried everything his excited
imagination could suggest.

He tried in succession the numbers which represented Dacosta's age,
which would have been known to the author of the crime, the date of
his arrest, the date of the sentence at the Villa Rica assizes, the
date fixed for the execution, etc., etc., even the number of victims
at the affray at Tijuco!

Nothing! All the time nothing!

Judge Jarriquez had worked himself into such a state of exasperation
that there really was some fear that his mental faculties would lose
their balance. He jumped about, and twisted about, and wrestled about
as if he really had got hold of his enemy's body. Then suddenly he
cried, "Now for chance! Heaven help me now, logic is powerless!"

His hand seized a bell-pull hanging near his table. The bell rang
furiously, and the magistrate strode up to the door, which he opened.
"Bobo!" he shouted.

A moment or two elapsed.

Bobo was a freed negro, who was the privileged servant of Jarriquez.
He did not appear; it was evident that Bobo was afraid to come into
his master's room.

Another ring at the bell; another call to Bobo, who, for his own
safety, pretended to be deaf on this occasion. And now a third ring
at the bell, which unhitched the crank and broke the cord.

This time Bobo came up. "What is it, sir?" asked Bobo, prudently
waiting on the threshold.

"Advance, without uttering a single word!" replied the judge, whose
flaming eyes made the negro quake again.

Bobo advanced.

"Bobo," said Jarriquez, "attend to what I say, and answer
immediately; do not even take time to think, or I----"

Bobo, with fixed eyes and open mouth, brought his feet together like
a soldier and stood at attention.

"Are you ready?" asked his master.

"I am."

"Now, then, tell me, without a moment's thought--you understand--the
first number than comes into your head."

"76223," answered Bobo, all in a breath. Bobo thought he would please
his master by giving him a pretty large one!

Judge Jarriquez had run to the table, and, pencil in hand, had made
out a formula with the number given by Bobo, and which Bobo had in
this way only given him at a venture.

It is obvious that it was most unlikely that a number such as 76223
was the key of the document, and it produced no other result than to
bring to the lips of Jarriquez such a vigorous ejaculation that Bobo
disappeared like a shot!

CHAPTER XV. THE LAST EFFORTS

THE MAGISTRATE, however, was not the only one who passed his time
unprofitably. Benito, Manoel, and Minha tried all they could together
to extract the secret from the document on which depended their
father's life and honor. On his part, Fragoso, aided by Lina, could
not remain quiet, but all their ingenuity had failed, and the number
still escaped them.

"Why don't you find it, Fragoso?" asked the young mulatto.

"I will find it," answered Fragoso.

And he did not find it!

Here we should say that Fragoso had an idea of a project of which he
had not even spoken to Lina, but which had taken full possession of
his mind. This was to go in search of the gang to which the
ex-captain of the woods had belonged, and to find out who was the
probable author of this cipher document, which was supposed to be the
confession of the culprit of Tijuco. The part of the Amazon where
these people were employed, the very place where Fragoso had met
Torres a few years before, was not very far from Manaos. He would
only have to descend the river for about fifty miles, to the mouth of
the Madeira, a tributary coming in on the right, and there he was
almost sure to meet the head of these "capitaes do mato," to which
Torres belonged. In two days, or three days at the outside, Fragoso
could get into communication with the old comrades of the adventurer.

"Yes! I could do that," he repeated to himself; "but what would be
the good of it, supposing I succeeded? If we are sure that one of
Torres' companions has recently died, would that prove him to be the
author of this crime? Would that show that he gave Torres a document
in which he announced himself the author of this crime, and
exonerated Joam Dacosta? Would that give us the key of the document?
No! Two men only knew the cipher--the culprit and Torres! And these
two men are no more!"

So reasoned Fragoso. It was evident that his enterprise would do no
good. But the thought of it was too much for him. An irresistible
influence impelled him to set out, although he was not even sure of
finding the band on the Madeira. In fact, it might be engaged in some
other part of the province, and to come up with it might require more
time than Fragoso had at his disposal! And what would be the result?

It is none the less true, however, that on the 29th of August, before
sunrise, Fragoso, without saying anything to anybody, secretly left
the jangada, arrived at Manaos, and embarked in one of the egariteas
which daily descend the Amazon.

And great was the astonishment when he was not seen on board, and did
not appear during the day. No one, not even Lina, could explain the
absence of so devoted a servant at such a crisis.

Some of them even asked, and not without reason, if the poor fellow,
rendered desperate at having, when he met him on the frontier,
personally contributed to bringing Torres on board the raft, had not
made away with himself.

But if Fragoso could so reproach himself, how about Benito? In the
first place at Iquitos he had invited Torres to visit the fazenda; in
the second place he had brought him on board the jangada, to become a
passenger on it; and in the third place, in killing him, he had
annihilated the only witness whose evidence could save the condemned
man.

And so Benito considered himself responsible for everything--the
arrest of his father, and the terrible events of which it had been
the consequence.

In fact, had Torres been alive, Benito could not tell but that, in
some way or another, from pity or for reward, he would have finished
by handing over the document. Would not Torres, whom nothing could
compromise, have been persuaded to speak, had money been brought to
bear upon him? Would not the long-sought-for proof have been
furnished to the judge? Yes, undoubtedly! And the only man who could
have furnished this evidence had been killed through Benito!

Such was what the wretched man continually repeated to his mother, to
Manoel, and to himself. Such were the cruel responsibilities which
his conscience laid to his charge.

Between her husband, with whom she passed all the time that was
allowed her, and her son, a prey to despair which made her tremble
for his reason, the brave Yaquita lost none of her moral energy. In
her they found the valiant daughter of Magalhaës, the worthy wife of
the fazender of Iquitos.

The attitude of Joam Dacosta was well adapted to sustain her in this
ordeal. That gallant man, that rigid Puritan, that austere worker,
whose whole life had been a battle, had not yet shown a moment of
weakness.

The most terrible blow which had struck him without prostrating him
had been the death of Judge Ribeiro, in whose mind his innocence did
not admit of a doubt. Was it not with the help of his old defender
that he had hoped to strive for his rehabilitation? The intervention
of Torres he had regarded throughout as being quite secondary for
him. And of this document he had no knowledge when he left Iquitos to
hand himself over to the justice of his country. He only took with
him moral proofs. When a material proof was unexpectedly produced in
the course of the affair, before or after his arrest, he was
certainly not the man to despise it. But if, on account of
regrettable circumstances, the proof disappeared, he would find
himself once more in the same position as when he passed the
Brazilian frontier--the position of a man who came to say, "Here is
my past life; here is my present; here is an entirely honest
existence of work and devotion which I bring you. You passed on me at
first an erroneous judgment. After twenty-three years of exile I have
come to give myself up! Here I am; judge me again!"

The death of Torres, the impossibility of reading the document found
on him, had thus not produced on Joam Dacosta the impression which it
had on his children, his friends, his household, and all who were
interested in him.

"I have faith in my innocence," he repeated to Yaquita, "as I have
faith in God. If my life is still useful to my people, and a miracle
is necessary to save me, that miracle will be performed; if not, I
shall die! God alone is my judge!"

The excitement increased in Manaos as the time ran on; the affair was
discussed with unexampled acerbity. In the midst of this enthralment
of public opinion, which evoked so much of the mysterious, the
document was the principal object of conversation.

At the end of this fourth day not a single person doubted but that it
contained the vindication of the doomed man. Every one had been given
an opportunity of deciphering its incomprehensible contents, for the
"Diario d'o Grand Para" had reproduced it in facsimile. Autograph
copies were spread about in great numbers at the suggestion of
Manoel, who neglect nothing that might lead to the penetration of the
mystery--not even chance, that "nickname of Providence," as some one
has called it.

In addition, a reward of one hundred contos (or three hundred
thousand francs) was promised to any one who could discover the
cipher so fruitlessly sought after--and read the document. This was
quite a fortune, and so people of all classes forgot to eat, drink,
or sleep to attack this unintelligible cryptogram.

Up to the present, however, all had been useless, and probably the
most ingenious analysts in the world would have spent their time in
vain. It had been advertised that any solution should be sent,
without delay, to Judge Jarriquez, to his house in God-the-Son
Street; but the evening of the 29th of August came and none had
arrived, nor was any likely to arrive.

Of all those who took up the study of the puzzle, Judge Jarriquez was
one of the most to be pitied. By a natural association of ideas, he
also joined in the general opinion that the document referred to the
affair at Tijuco, and that it had ben written by the hand of the
guilty man, and exonerated Joam Dacosta. And so he put even more
ardor into his search for the key. It was not only the art for art's
sake which guided him, it was a sentiment of justice, of pity toward
a man suffering under an unjust condemnation. If it is the fact that
a certain quantity of phosphorus is expended in the work of the
brain, it would be difficult to say how many milligrammes the judge
had parted with to excite the network of his "sensorium," and after
all, to find out nothing, absolutely nothing.

But Jarriquez had no idea of abandoning the inquiry. If he could only
now trust to chance, he would work on for that chance. He tried to
evoke it by all means possible and impossible. He had given himself
over to fury and anger, and, what was worse, to impotent anger!

During the latter part of this day he had been trying different
numbers--numbers selected arbitrarily--and how many of them can
scarcely be imagined. Had he had the time, he would not have shrunk
from plunging into the millions of combinations of which the ten
symbols of numeration are capable. He would have given his whole life
to it at the risk of going mad before the year was out. Mad! was he
not that already? He had had the idea that the document might be read
through the paper, and so he turned it round and exposed it to the
light, and tried it in that way.

Nothing! The numbers already thought of, and which he tried in this
new way, gave no result. Perhaps the document read backward, and the
last letter was really the first, for the author would have done this
had he wished to make the reading more difficult.

Nothing! The new combination only furnished a series of letters just
as enigmatic.

At eight o'clock in the evening Jarriquez, with his face in his
hands, knocked up, worn out mentally and physically, had neither
strength to move, to speak, to think, or to associate one idea with
another.

Suddenly a noise was heard outside. Almost immediately,
notwithstanding his formal orders, the door of his study was thrown
open. Benito and Manoel were before him, Benito looking dreadfully
pale, and Manoel supporting him, for the unfortunate young man had
hardly strength to support himself.

The magistrate quickly arose.

"What is it, gentlemen? What do you want?" he asked.

"The cipher! the cipher!" exclaimed Benito, mad with grief--"the
cipher of the document."

"Do you know it, then?" shouted the judge.

"No, sir," said Manoel. "But you?"

"Nothing! nothing!"

"Nothing?" gasped Benito, and in a paroxysm of despair he took a
knife from his belt and would have plunged it into his breast had not
the judge and Manoel jumped forward and managed to disarm him.

"Benito," said Jarriquez, ina voice which he tried to keep calm, "if
you father cannot escape the expiation of a crime which is not his,
you could do something better than kill yourself."

"What?" said Benito.

"Try and save his life!"

"How?"

"That is for you to discover," answered the magistrate, "and not for
me to say."

CHAPTER XVI. PREPARATIONS

ON THE FOLLOWING day, the 30th of August, Benito and Manoel talked
matters over together. They had understood the thought to which the
judge had not dared to give utterance in their presence, and were
engaged in devising some means by which the condemned man could
escape the penalty of the law.

Nothing else was left for them to do. It was only too certain that
for the authorities at Rio Janeiro the undeciphered document would
nave no value whatever, that it would be a dead letter, that the
first verdict which declared Joam Dacosta the perpetrator of the
crime at Tijuco would not be set aside, and that, as in such cases no
commutation of the sentence was possible, the order for his execution
would inevitably be received.

Once more, then, Joam Dacosta would have to escape by flight from an
unjust imprisonment.

It was at the outset agreed between the two young men that the secret
should be carefully kept, and that neither Yaquita nor Minha should
be informed of preparations, which would probably only give rise to
hopes destined never to be realized. Who could tell if, owing to some
unforeseen circumstance, the attempt at escape would not prove a
miserable failure?

The presence of Fragoso on such an occasion would have been most
valuable. Discreet and devoted, his services would have been most
welcome to the two young fellows; but Fragoso had not reappeared.
Lina, when asked, could only say that she knew not what had become of
him, nor why he had left the raft without telling her anything about
it.

And assuredly, had Fragoso foreseen that things would have turned out
as they were doing, he would never have left the Dacosta family on an
expedition which appeared to promise no serious result. Far better
for him to have assisted in the escape of the doomed man than to have
hurried off in search of the former comrades of Torres!

But Fragoso was away, and his assistance had to be dispensed with.

At daybreak Benito and Manoel left the raft and proceeded to Manaos.
They soon reached the town, and passed through its narrow streets,
which at that early hour were quite deserted. In a few minutes they
arrived in front of the prison. The waste ground, amid which the old
convent which served for a house of detention was built, was
traversed by them in all directions, for they had come to study it
with the utmost care.

Fifty-five feet from the ground, in an angle of the building, they
recognized the window of the cell in which Joam Dacosta was confined.
The window was secured with iron bars in a miserable state of repair,
which it would be easy to tear down or cut through if they could only
get near enough. The badly jointed stones in the wall, which were
crumbled away every here and there, offered many a ledge for the feet
to rest on, if only a rope could be fixed to climb up by. One of the
bars had slipped out of its socket, and formed a hook over which it
might be possible to throw a rope. That done, one or two of the bars
could be removed, so as to permit a man to get through. Benito and
Manoel would then have to make their way into the prisoner's room,
and without much difficulty the escape could be managed by means of
the rope fastened to the projecting iron. During the night, if the
sky were very cloudy, none of these operations would be noticed
before the day dawned. Joam Dacosta could get safely away.

Manoel and Benito spent an hour about the spot, taking care not to
attract attention, but examining the locality with great exactness,
particularly as regarded the position of the window, the arrangement
of the iron bars, and the place from which it would be best to throw
the line.

"That is agreed," said Manoel at length. "And now, ought Joam Dacosta
to be told about this?"

"No, Manoel. Neither to him, any more than to my mother, ought we to
impart the secret of an attempt in which there is such a risk of
failure."

"We shall succeed, Benito!" continued Manoel. "However, we must
prepare for everything; and in case the chief of the prison should
discover us at the moment of escape----"

"We shall have money enough to purchase his silence," answered
Benito.

"Good!" replied Manoel. "But once your father is out of prison he
cannot remain hidden in the town or on the jangada. Where is he to
find refuge?"

This was the second question to solve: and a very difficult one it
was.

A hundred paces away from the prison, however, the waste land was
crossed by one of those canals which flow through the town into the
Rio Negro. This canal afforded an easy way of gaining the river if a
pirogue were in waiting for the fugitive. From the foot of the wall
to the canal side was hardly a hundred yards.

Benito and Manoel decided that about eight o'clock in the evening one
of the pirogues, with two strong rowers, under the command of the
pilot Araujo, should start from the jangada. They could ascend the
Rio Negro, enter the canal, and, crossing the waste land, remain
concealed throughout the night under the tall vegetation on the
banks.

But once on board, where was Joam Dacosta to seek refuge? To return
to Iquitos was to follow a road full of difficulties and peril, and a
long one in any case, should the fugitive either travel across the
country or by the river. Neither by horse not pirogue could he be got
out of danger quickly enough, and the fazenda was no longer a safe
retreat. He would not return to it as the fazender, Joam Garral, but
as the convict, Joam Dacosta, continually in fear of his extradition.
He could never dream of resuming his former life.

To get away by the Rio Negro into the north of the province, or even
beyond the Brazilian territory, would require more time than he could
spare, and his first care must be to escape from immediate pursuit.

To start again down the Amazon? But stations, village, and towns
abounded on both sides of the river. The description of the fugitive
would be sent to all the police, and he would run the risk of being
arrested long before he reached the Atlantic. And supposing he
reached the coast, where and how was he to hide and wait for a
passage to put the sea between himself and his pursuers?

On consideration of these various plans, Benito and Manoel agreed
that neither of them was practicable. One, however, did offer some
chance of safety, and that was to embark in the pirogue, follow the
canal into the Rio Negro, descend this tributary under the guidance
of the pilot, reach the confluence of the rivers, and run down the
Amazon along its right bank for some sixty miles during the nights,
resting during the daylight, and so gaining the embouchure of the
Madeira.

This tributary, which, fed by a hundred affluents, descends from the
watershed of the Cordilleras, is a regular waterway opening into the
very heart of Bolivia. A pirogue could pass up it and leave no trace
of its passage, and a refuge could be found in some town or village
beyond the Brazilian frontier. There Joam Dacosta would be
comparatively safe, and there for several months he could wait for an
opportunity of reaching the Pacific coast and taking passage in some
vessel leaving one of its ports; and if the ship were bound for one
of the States of North America he would be free. Once there, he could
sell the fazenda, eave his country forever, and seek beyond the sea,
in the Old World, a final retreat in which to end an existence so
cruelly and unjustly disturbed. Anywhere he might go, his family--not
excepting Manoel, who was bound to him by so many ties--would
assuredly follow without the slightest hesitation.

"Let us go," said Benito; "we must have all ready before night, and
we have no time to lose."

The young men returned on board by way of the canal bank, which led
along the Rio Negro. They satisfied themselves that the passage of
the pirogue would be quite possible, and that no obstacles such as
locks or boats under repair were there to stop it. They then
descended the left bank of the tributary, avoiding the slowly-filling
streets of the town, and reached the jangada.

Benito's first care was to see his mother. He felt sufficiently
master of himself to dissemble the anxiety which consumed him. He
wished to assure her that all hope was not lost, that the mystery of
the document would be cleared up, that in any case public opinion was
in favor of Joam, and that, in face of the agitation which was being
made in his favor, justice would grant all the necessary time for the
production of the material proof his innocence. "Yes, mother," he
added, "before to-morrow we shall be free from anxiety."

"May heaven grant it so!" replied Yaquita, and she looked at him so
keenly that Benito could hardly meet her glance.

On his part, and as if by pre-arrangement, Manoel had tried to
reassure Minha by telling her that Judge Jarriquez was convinced of
the innocence of Joam, and would try to save him by every means in
his power.

"I only wish he would, Manoel," answered she, endeavoring in vain to
restrain her tears.

And Manoel left her, for the tears were also welling up in his eyes
and witnessing against the words of hope to which he had just given
utterance.

And now the time had arrived for them to make their daily visit to
the prisoner, and Yaquita and her daughter set off to Manaos.

For an hour the young men were in consultation with Araujo. They
acquainted him with their plan in all its details, and they discussed
not only the projected escape, but the measures which were necessary
for the safety of the fugitive.

Araujo approved of everything; he undertook during the approaching
night to take the pirogue up the canal without attracting any notice,
and he knew its course thoroughly as far as the spot where he was to
await the arrival of Joam Dacosta. To get back to the mouth of the
Rio Negro was easy enough, and the pirogue would be able to pass
unnoticed among the numerous craft continually descending the river.

Araujo had no objection to offer to the idea of following the Amazon
down to its confluence with the Madeira. The course of the Madeira
was familiar to him for quite two hundred miles up, and in the midst
of these thinly-peopled provinces, even if pursuit took place in
their direction, all attempts at capture could be easily frustrated;
they could reach the interior of Bolivia, and if Joam decided to
leave his country he could procure a passage with less danger on the
coast of the Pacific than on that of the Atlantic.

Araujo's approval was most welcome to the young fellows; they had
great faith in the practical good sense of the pilot, and not without
reason. His zeal was undoubted, and he would assuredly have risked
both life and liberty to save the fazender of Iquitos.

With the utmost secrecy Araujo at once set about his preparations. A
considerable sum in gold was handed over to him by Benito to meet all
eventualities during the voyage on the Madeira. In getting the
pirogue ready, he announced his intention of going in search of
Fragoso, whose fate excited a good deal of anxiety among his
companions. He stowed away in the boat provisions for many days, and
did not forget the ropes and tools which would be required by the
young men when they reached the canal at the appointed time and
place.

These preparations evoked no curiosity on the part of the crew of the
jangada, and even the two stalwart negroes were not let into the
secret. They, however, could be absolutely depended on. Whenever they
learned what the work of safety was in which they were engaged--when
Joam Dacosta, once more free, was confided to their charge--Araujo
knew well that they would dare anything, even to the risk of their
own lives, to save the life of their master.

By the afternoon all was ready, and they had only the night to wait
for. But before making a start Manoel wished to call on Judge
Jarriquez for the last time. The magistrate might perhaps have found
out something new about the document. Benito preferred to remain on
the raft and wait for the return of his mother and sister.

Manoel then presented himself at the abode of Judge Jarriquez, and
was immediately admitted.

The magistrate, in the study which he never quitted, was still the
victim of the same excitement. The document crumpled by his impatient
fingers, was still there before his eyes on the table.

"Sir," said Manoel, whose voice trembled as he asked the question,
"have you received anything from Rio de Janeiro."

"No," answered the judge; "the order has not yet come to hand, but it
may at any moment."

"And the document?"

"Nothing yet!" exclaimed he. "Everything my imagination can suggest I
have tried, and no result."

"None?"

"Nevertheless, I distinctly see one word in the document--only one!"

"What is that--what is the word?"

"'Fly'!"

Manoel said nothing, but he pressed the hand which Jarriquez held out
to him, and returned to the jangada to wait for the moment of action.

CHAPTER XVII. THE LAST NIGHT

THE VISIT of Yaquita and her daughter had been like all such visits
during the few hours which each day the husband and wife spent
together. In the presence of the two beings whom Joam so dearly loved
his heart nearly failed him. But the husband--the father--retained
his self-command. It was he who comforted the two poor women and
inspired them with a little of the hope of which so little now
remained to him. They had come with the intention of cheering the
prisoner. Alas! far more than he they themselves were in want of
cheering! But when they found him still bearing himself unflinchingly
in the midst of his terrible trial, they recovered a little of their
hope.

Once more had Joam spoken encouraging words to them. His indomitable
energy was due not only to the feeling of his innocence, but to his
faith in that God, a portion of whose justice yet dwells in the
hearts of men. No! Joam Dacosta would never lose his life for the
crime of Tijuco!

Hardly ever did he mention the document. Whether it were apocryphal
or no, whether it were in the handwriting of Torres or in that of the
real perpetrator of the crime, whether it contained or did not
contain the longed-for vindication, it was on no such doubtful
hypothesis that Joam Dacosta presumed to trust. No; he reckoned on a
better argument in his favor, and it was to his long life of toil and
honor that he relegated the task of pleading for him.

This evening, then, his wife and daughter, strengthened by the manly
words, which thrilled them to the core of their hearts, had left him
more confident than they had ever been since his arrest. For the last
time the prisoner had embraced them, and with redoubled tenderness.
It seemed as though the dénouement was nigh.

Joam Dacosta, after they had left, remained for some time perfectly
motionless. His arms rested on a small table and supported his head.
Of what was he thinking? Had he at last been convinced that human
justice, after failing the first time, would at length pronounce his
acquittal?

Yes, he still hoped. With the report of Judge Jarriquez establishing
his identity, he knew that his memoir, which he had penned with so
much sincerity, would have been sent to Rio Janeiro, and was now in
the hands of the chief justice. This memoir, as we know, was the
history of his life from his entry into the offices of the diamond
arrayal until the very moment when the jangada stopped before Manaos.
Joam Dacosta was pondering over his whole career. He again lived his
past life from the moment when, as an orphan, he had set foot in
Tijuco. There his zeal had raised him high in the offices of the
governor-general, into which he had been admitted when still very
young. The future smiled on him; he would have filled some important
position. Then this sudden catastrophe; the robbery of the diamond
convoy, the massacre of the escort, the suspicion directed against
him as the only official who could have divulged the secret of the
expedition, his arrest, his appearance before the jury, his
conviction in spite of all the efforts of his advocate, the last
hours spent in the condemned cell at Villa Rica, his escape under
conditions which betokened almost superhuman courage, his flight
through the northern provinces, his arrival on the Peruvian frontier,
and the reception which the starving fugitive had met with from the
hospitable fazender Magalhaës.

The prisoner once more passed in review these events, which had so
cruelly amrred his life. And then, lost in his thoughts and
recollections, he sat, regardless of a peculiar noise on the outer
wall of the convent, of the jerkings of a rope hitched on to a bar of
his window, and of grating steel as it cut through iron, which ought
at once to have attracted the attention of a less absorbed man.

Joam Dacosta continued to live the years of his youth after his
arrival in Peru. He again saw the fazender, the clerk, the partner of
the old Portuguese, toiling hard for the prosperity of the
establishment at Iquitos. Ah! why at the outset had he not told all
to his benefactor? He would never have doubted him. It was the only
error with which he could reproach himself. Why had he not confessed
to him whence he had come, and who he was--above all, at the moment
when Magalhaës had place in his hand the hand of the daughter who
would never have believed that he was the author of so frightful a
crime.

And now the noise outside became loud enough to attract the
prisoner's attention. For an instant Joam raised his head; his eyes
sought the window, but with a vacant look, as though he were
unconscious, and the next instant his head again sank into his hands.
Again he was in thought back at Iquitos.

There the old fazender was dying; before his end he longed for the
future of his daughter to be assured, for his partner to be the sole
master of the settlement which had grown so prosperous under his
management. Should Dacosta have spoken then? Perhaps; but he dared
not do it. He again lived the happy days he had spent with Yaquita,
and again thought of the birth of his children, again felt the
happiness which had its only trouble in the remembrances of Tijuco
and the remorse that he had not confessed his terrible secret.

The chain of events was reproduced in Joam's mind with a clearness
and completeness quite remarkable.

And now he was thinking of the day when his daughter's marriage with
Manoel had been decided. Could he allow that union to take place
under a false name without acquainting the lad with the mystery of
his life? No! And so at the advice of Judge Ribeiro he resolved to
come and claim the revision of his sentence, to demand the
rehabilitation which was his due! He was starting with his people,
and then came the intervention of Torres, the detestable bargain
proposed by the scoundrel, the indignant refusal of the father to
hand over his daughter to save his honor and his life, and then the
denunciation and the arrest!

Suddenly the window flew open with a violent push from without.

Joam started up; the souvenire of the past vanished like a shadow.

Benito leaped into the room; he was in the presence of his father,
and the next moment Manoel, tearing down the remaining bars, appeared
before him.

Joam Dacosta would have uttered a cry of surprise. Benito left him no
time to do so.

"Father," he said, "the window grating is down. A rope leads to the
ground. A pirogue is waiting for you on the canal not a hundred yards
off. Araujo is there ready to take you far away from Manaos, on the
other bank of the Amazon where your track will never be discovered.
Father, you must escape this very moment! It was the judge's own
suggestion!"

"It must be done!" added Manoel.

"Fly! I!--Fly a second time! Escape again?"

And with crossed arms, and head erect, Joam Dacosta stepped forward.

"Never!" he said, in a voice so firm that Benito and Manoel stood
bewildered.

The young men had never thought of a difficulty like this. They had
never reckoned on the hindrances to escape coming from the prisoner
himself.

Benito advanced to his father, and looking him straight in the face,
and taking both his hands in his, not to force him, but to try and
convince him, said:

"Never, did you say, father?"

"Never!"

"Father," said Manoel--"for I also have the right to call you
father--listen to us! If we tell you that you ought to fly without
losing an instant, it is because if you remain you will be guilty
toward others, toward yourself!"

"To remain," continued Benito, "is to remain to die! The order for
execution may come at any moment! If you imagine that the justice of
men will nullify a wrong decision, if you think it will rehabilitate
you whom it condemned twenty years since, you are mistaken! There is
hope no longer! You must escape! Come!"

By an irresistible impulse Benito seized his father and drew him
toward the window.

Joam Dacosta struggled from his son's grasp and recoiled a second
time.

"To fly," he answered, in the tone of a man whose resolution was
unalterable, "is to dishonor myself, and you with me! It would be a
confession of my guilt! Of my own free will I surrendered myself to
my country's judges, and I will await their decision, whatever that
decision may be!"

"But the presumptions on which you trusted are insufficient," replied
Manoel, "and the material proof of your innocence is still wanting!
If we tell you that you ought to fly, it is because Judge Jarriquez
himself told us so. You have now only this one chance left to escape
from death!"

"I will die, then," said Joam, in a calm voice. "I will die
protesting against the decision which condemned me! The first time, a
few hours before the execution--I fled! Yes! I was then young. I had
all my life before me in which to struggle against man's injustice!
But to save myself now, to begin again the miserable existence of a
felon hiding under a false name, whose every effort is required to
avoid the pursuit of the police, again to live the life of anxiety
which I have led for twenty-three years, and oblige you to share it
with me; to wait each day for a denunciation which sooner or later
must come, to wait for the claim for extradition which would follow
me to a foreign country! Am I to live for that? No! Never!"

"Father," interrupted Benito, whose mind threatened to give way
before such obstinacy, "you shall fly! I will have it so!" And he
caught hold of Joam Dacosta, and tried by force to drag him toward
the window.

"No! no!"

"You wish to drive me mad?"

"My son," exclaimed Joam Dacosta, "listen to me! Once already I
escaped from the prison at Villa Rica, and people believed I fled
from well-merited punishment. Yes, they had reason to think so. Well,
for the honor of the name which you bear I shall not do so again."

Benito had fallen on his knees before his father. He held up his
hands to him; he begged him:

"But this order, father," he repeated, "this order which is due
to-day--even now--it will contain your sentence of death."

"The order may come, but my determination will not change. No, my
son! Joam Dacosta, guilty, might fly! Joam Dacosta, innocent, will
not fly!"

The scene which followed these words was heart-rending. Benito
struggled with his father. Manoel, distracted, kept near the window
ready to carry off the prisoner--when the door of the room opened.

On the threshold appeared the chief of the police, accompanied by the
head warder of the prison and a few soldiers. The chief of the police
understood at a glance that an attempt at escape was being made; but
he also understood from the prisoner's attitude that he it was who
had no wish to go! He said nothing. The sincerest pity was depicted
on his face. Doubtless he also, like Judge Jarriquez, would have
liked Dacosta to have escaped.

It was too late!

The chief of the police, who held a paper in his hand, advanced
toward the prisoner.

"Before all of you," said Joam Dacosta, "let me tell you, sir, that
it only rested with me to get away, and that I would not do so."

The chief of the police bowed his head, and then, in a voice which he
vainly tried to control"

"Joam Dacosta," he said, "the order has this moment arrived from the
chief justice at Rio Janeiro."

"Father!" exclaimed Manoel and Benito.

"This order," asked Joam Dacosta, who had crossed his arms, "this
order requires the execution of my sentence?"

"Yes!"

"And that will take place?"

"To-morrow."

Benito threw himself on his father. Again would he have dragged him
from his cell, but the soldiers came and drew away the prisoner from
his grasp.

At a sign from the chief of the police Benito and Manoel were taken
away. An end had to be put to this painful scene, which had already
lasted too long.

"Sir," said the doomed man, "before to-morrow, before the hour of my
execution, may I pass a few moments with Padre Passanha, whom I ask
you to tell?"

"It will be forbidden."

"May I see my family, and embrace for a last time my wife and
children?"

"You shall see them."

"Thank you, sir," answered Joam; "and now keep guard over that
window; it will not do for them to take me out of here against my
will."

And then the chief of the police, after a respectful bow, retired
with the warder and the soldiers.

The doomed man, who had now but a few hours to live, was left alone.

CHAPTER XVIII. FRAGOSO

AND SO the order had come, and, as Judge Jarriquez had foreseen, it
was an order requiring the immediate execution of the sentence
pronounced on Joam Dacosta. No proof had been produced; justice must
take its course.

It was the very day--the 31st of August, at nine o'clock in the
morning of which the condemned man was to perish on the gallows.

The death penalty in Brazil is generally commuted except in the case
of negroes, but this time it was to be suffered by a white man.

Such are the penal arrangements relative to crimes in the diamond
arrayal, for which, in the public interest, the law allows no appear
to mercy.

Nothing could now save Joam Dacosta. It was not only life, but honor
that he was about to lose.

But on the 31st of August a man was approaching Manaos with all the
speed his horse was capable of, and such had been the pace at which
he had come that half a mile from the town the gallant creature fell,
incapable of carrying him any further.

The rider did not even stop to raise his steed. Evidently he had
asked and obtained from it all that was possible, and, despite the
state of exhaustion in which he found himself, he rushed off in the
direction of the city.

The man came from the eastern provinces, and had followed the left
bank of the river. All his means had gone in the purchase of this
horse, which, swifter far than any pirogue on the Amazon, had brought
him to Manaos.

It was Fragoso!

Had, then, the brave fellow succeeded in the enterprise of which he
had spoken to nobody? Had he found the party to which Torres
belonged? Had he discovered some secret which would yet save Joam
Dacosta?

He hardly knew. But in any case he was in great haste to acquaint
Judge Jarriquez with what he had ascertained during his short
excursion.

And this is what had happened.

Fragoso had made no mistake when he recognized Torres as one of the
captains of the party which was employed in the river provinces of
the Madeira.

He set out, and on reaching the mouth of that tributary he learned
that the chief of these capitaes da mato was then in the
neighborhood.

Without losing a minute, Fragoso started on the search, and, not
without difficulty, succeeded in meeting him.

To Fragoso's questions the chief of the party had no hesitation in
replying; he had no interest in keeping silence with regard to the
few simple matters on which he was interrogated. In fact, three
questions only of importance were asked him by Fragoso, and these
were:

"Did not a captain of the woods named Torres belong to your party a
few months ago?"

"Yes."

"At that time had he not one intimate friend among his companions who
has recently died?"

"Just so!"

"And the name of that friend was?"

"Ortega."

This was all that Fragoso had learned. Was this information of a kind
to modify Dacosta's position? It was hardly likely.

Fragoso saw this, and pressed the chief of the band to tell him what
he knew of this Ortega, of the place where he came from, and of his
antecedents generally. Such information would have been of great
importance if Ortega, as Torres had declared, was the true author of
the crime of Tijuco. But unfortunately the chief could give him no
information whatever in the matter.

What was certain was that Ortega had been a member of the band for
many years, that an intimate friendship existed between him and
Torres, that they were always seen together, and that Torres had
watched at his bedside when he died.

This was all the chief of the band knew, and he could tell no more.
Fragoso, then, had to be contented with these insignificant details,
and departed immediately.

But if the devoted fellow had not brought back the proof that Ortega
was the author of the crime of Tijuco, he had gained one thing, and
that was the knowledge that Torres had told the truth when he
affirmed that one of his comrades in the band had died, and that he
had been present during his last moments.

The hypothesis that Ortega had given him the document in question had
now become admissible. Nothing was more probable than that this
document had reference to the crime of which Ortega was really the
author, and that it contained the confession of the culprit,
accompanied by circumstances which permitted of no doubt as to its
truth.

And so, if the document could be read, if the key had been found, if
the cipher on which the system hung were known, no doubt of its truth
could be entertained.

But this cipher Fragoso did not know. A few more presumptions, a
half-certainty that the adventurer had invented nothing, certain
circumstances tending to prove that the secret of the matter was
contained in the document--and that was all that the gallant fellow
brought back from his visit to the chief of the gang of which Torres
had been a member.

Nevertheless, little as it was, he was in all haste to relate it to
Judge Jarriquez. He knew that he had not an hour to lose, and that
was why on this very morning, at about eight o'clock, he arrived,
exhausted with fatigue, within half a mile of Manaos. The distance
between there and the town he traversed in a few minutes. A kind of
irresistible presentiment urged him on, and he had almost come to
believe that Joam Dacosta's safety rested in his hands.

Suddenly Fragoso stopped as if his feet had become rooted in the
ground. He had reached the entrance to a small square, on which
opened one of the town gates.

There, in the midst of a dense crowd, arose the gallows, towering up
some twenty feet, and from it there hung the rope!

Fragoso felt his consciousness abandon him. He fell; his eyes
involuntarily closed. He did not wish to look, and these words
escaped his lips: "Too late! too late!" But by a superhuman effort he
raised himself up. No; it was not too late, the corpse of Joam
Dacosta was not hanging at the end of the rope!

"Judge Jarriquez! Judge Jarriquez!" shouted Fragoso, and panting and
bewildered he rushed toward the city gate, dashed up the principal
street of Manaos, and fell half-dead on the threshold of the judge's
house. The door was shut. Fragoso had still strength enough left to
knock at it.

One of the magistrate's servants came to open it; his master would
see no one.

In spite of this denial, Fragoso pushed back the man who guarded the
entrance, and with a bound threw himself into the judge's study.

"I come from the province where Torres pursued his calling as captain
of the woods!" he gasped. "Mr. Judge, Torres told the truth.
Stop--stop the execution?"

"You found the gang?"

"Yes."

"And you have brought me the cipher of the document?"

Fragoso did not reply.

"Come, leave me alone! leave me alone!" shouted Jarriquez, and, a
prey to an outburst of rage, he grasped the document to tear it to
atoms.

Fragoso seized his hands and stopped him. "The truth is there!" he
said.

"I know," answered Jarriquez; "but it is a truth which will never see
the light!"

"It will appear--it must! it must!"

"Once more, have you the cipher?"

"No," replied Fragoso; "but, I repeat, Torres has not lied. One of
his companions, with whom he was very intimate, died a few months
ago, and there can be no doubt but that this man gave him the
document he came to sell to Joam Dacosta."

"No," answered Jarriquez--"no, there is no doubt about it--as far as
we are concerned; but that is not enough for those who dispose of the
doomed man's life. Leave me!"

Fragoso, repulsed, would not quit the spot. Again he threw himself at
the judge's feet. "Joam Dacosta is innocent!" he cried; "you will not
leave him to die? It was not he who committed the crime of Tijuco; it
was the comrade of Torres, the author of that document! It was
Ortega!"

As he uttered the name the judge bounded backward. A kind of calm
swiftly succeeded to the tempest which raged within him. He dropped
the document from his clenched hand, smoothed it out on the table,
sat down, and, passing his hand over his eyes--"That name?" he
said--"Ortega? Let us see," and then he proceeded with the new name
brought back by Fragoso as he had done with the other names so vainly
tried by himself.

After placing it above the first six letters of the paragraph he
obtained the following formula:

O r t e g a
P h y j s l

"Nothing!" he said. "That give us--nothing!"

And in fact the h placed under the r could not be expressed by a
cipher, for, in alphabetical order, this letter occupies an earlier
position to that of the r.

The p, the y, the j, arranged beneath the letters o, t, e,
disclosed the cipher 1, 4, 5, but as for the s and the l at the
end of the word, the interval which separated them from the g and
the a was a dozen letters, and hence impossible to express by a
single cipher, so that they corresponded to neither g nor a.

And here appalling shouts arose in the streets; they were the cries
of despair.

Fragoso jumped to one of the windows, and opened it before the judge
could hinder him.

The people filled the road. The hour had come at which the doomed man
was to start from the prison, and the crowd was flowing back to the
spot where the gallows had been erected.

Judge Jarriquez, quite frightful to look upon, devoured the lines of
the document with a fixed stare.

"The last letters!" he muttered. "Let us try once more the last
letters!"

It was the last hope.

And then, with a hand whose agitation nearly prevented him from
writing at all, he placed the name of Ortega over the six last
letters of the paragraph, as he had done over the first.

An exclamation immediately escaped him. He saw, at first glance, that
the six last letters were inferior in alphabetical order to those
which composed Ortega's name, and that consequently they might yield
the number.

And when he reduced the formula, reckoning each later letter from the
earlier letter of the word, he obtained.

O r t e g a
4 3 2 5 1 3
S u v j h d

The number thus disclosed was 432513.

But was this number that which had been used in the document? Was it
not as erroneous as those he had previously tried?

At this moment the shouts below redoubled--shouts of pity which
betrayed the sympathy of the excited crowd. A few minutes more were
all that the doomed man had to live!

Fragoso, maddened with grief, darted from the room! He wished to see,
for the last time, his benefactor who was on the road to death! He
longed to throw himself before the mournful procession and stop it,
shouting, "Do not kill this just man! do not kill him!"

But already Judge Jarriquez had placed the given number above the
first letters of the paragraph, repeating them as often as was
necessary, as follows:

4 3 2 5 1 3 4 3 2 5 1 3 4 3 2 5 1 3 4 3 2 5 1 3
P h y j s l y d d q f d z x g a s g z z q q e h

And then, reckoning the true letters according to their alphabetical
order, he read:

"Le véritable auteur du vol de----"

A yell of delight escaped him! This number, 432513, was the number
sought for so long! The name of Ortega had enabled him to discover
it! At length he held the key of the document, which would
incontestably prove the innocence of Joam Dacosta, and without
reading any more he flew from his study into the street, shouting:

"Halt! Halt!"

To cleave the crowd, which opened as he ran, to dash to the prison,
whence the convict was coming at the last moment, with his wife and
children clinging to him with the violence of despair, was but the
work of a minute for Judge Jarriquez.

Stopping before Joam Dacosta, he could not speak for a second, and
then these words escaped his lips:

"Innocent! Innocent!"

CHAPTER XIX. THE CRIME OF TIJUCO

ON THE ARRIVAL of the judge the mournful procession halted. A roaring
echo had repeated after him and again repeated the cry which escaped
from every mouth:

"Innocent! Innocent!"

Then complete silence fell on all. The people did not want to lose
one syllable of what was about to be proclaimed.

Judge Jarriquez sat down on a stone seat, and then, while Minha,
Benito, Manoel, and Fragoso stood round him, while Joam Dacosta
clasped Yaquita to his heart, he first unraveled the last paragraph
of the document by means of the number, and as the words appeared by
the institution of the true letters for the cryptological ones, he
divided and punctuated them, and then read it out in a loud voice.
And this is what he read in the midst of profound silence:

Le véritable auteur du vol des diamants et de
43 251343251 343251 34 325 134 32513432 51 34
Ph yjslyddf dzxgas gz zqq ehx gkfndrxu ju gi

l'assassinat des soldats qui escortaient le convoi,
32513432513 432 5134325 134 32513432513 43 251343
ocytdxvksbx bhu ypohdvy rym huhpuydkjox ph etozsl

commis dans la nuit du vingt-deux janvier mil
251343 2513 43 2513 43 251343251 3432513 432
etnpmv ffov pd pajx hy ynojyggay meqynfu q1n

huit-cent vingt-six, n'est donc pas Joam Dacosta,
5134 3251 3425 134 3251 3432 513 4325 1343251
mvly fgsu zmqiz tlb qgyu gsqe uvb nrcc edgruzb

injustement condamné à mort, c'est moi, les misérable
34325134325 13432513 4 3251 3432 513 43 251343251
l4msyuhqpz drrgcroh e pqxu fivv rpl ph onthvddqf

employé de l'administration du district diamantin,
3432513 43 251343251343251 34 32513432 513432513
hqsntzh hh nfepmqkyuuexkto gz gkyuumfv ijdqdpzjq

out, moi seul, qui signe de mon vrai nom, Ortega.
432 513 4325 134 32513 43 251 3432 513 432513
syk rpl xhxq rym vkloh hh oto zvdk spp suvjhd.

"The real author of the robbery of the diamonds and of the murder of
the soldiers who escorted the convoy, committed during the night of
the twenty-second of January, one thousand eight hundred and
twenty-six, was thus not Joam Dacosta, unjustly condemned to death;
it was I, the wretched servant of the Administration of the diamond
district; yes, I alone, who sign this with my true name, Ortega."

The reading of this had hardly finished when the air was rent with
prolonged hurrahs.

What could be more conclusive than this last paragraph, which
summarized the whole of the document, and proclaimed so absolutely
the innocence of the fazender of Iquitos, and which snatched from the
gallows this victim of a frightful judicial mistake!

Joam Dacosta, surrounded by his wife, his children, and his friends,
was unable to shake the hands which were held out to him. Such was
the strength of his character that a reaction occurred, tears of joy
escaped from his eyes, and at the same instant his heart was lifted
up to that Providence which had come to save him so miraculously at
the moment he was about to offer the last expiation to that God who
would not permit the accomplishment of that greatest of crimes, the
death of an innocent man!

Yes! There could be no doubt as to the vindication of Joam Dacosta.
The true author of the crime of Tijuco confessed of his own free
will, and described the circumstances under which it had been
perpetrated!

By means of the number Judge Jarriquez interpreted the whole of the
cryptogram.

And this was what Ortega confessed.

He had been the colleague of Joam Dacosta, employed, like him, at
Tijuco, in the offices of the governor of the diamond arrayal. He had
been the official appointed to accompany the convoy to Rio de
Janeiro, and, far from recoiling at the horrible idea of enriching
himself by means of murder and robbery, he had informed the smugglers
of the very day the convoy was to leave Tijuco.

During the attack of the scoundrels, who awaited the convoy just
beyond Villa Rica, he pretended to defend himself with the soldiers
of the escort, and then, falling among the dead, he was carried away
by his accomplices. Hence it was that the solitary soldier who
survived the massacre had reported that Ortega had perished in the
struggle.

But the robbery did not profit the guilty man in the long run, for, a
little time afterward, he was robbed by those whom he had helped to
commit the crime.

Penniless, and unable to enter Tijuco again, Ortega fled away to the
provinces in the north of Brazil, to those districts of the Upper
Amazon where the capitaes da mato are to be found. He had to live
somehow, and so he joined this not very honorable company; they
neither asked him who he was nor whence he came, and so Ortega became
a captain of the woods, and for many years he followed the trade of a
chaser of men.

During this time Torres, the adventurer, himself in absolute want,
became his companion. Ortega and he became most intimate. But, as he
had told Torres, remorse began gradually to trouble the scoundrel's
life. The remembrance of his crime became horrible to him. He knew
that another had been condemned in his place! He knew subsequently
that the innocent man had escaped from the last penalty, but that he
would never be free from the shadow of the capital sentence! And
then, during an expedition of his party for several months beyond the
Peruvian frontier, chance caused Ortega to visit the neighborhood of
Iquitos, and there in Joam Garral, who did not recognize him, he
recognized Joam Dacosta.

Henceforth he resolved to make all the reparation he could for the
injustice of which is old comrade had been the victim. He committed
to the document all the facts relative to the crime of Tijuco,
writing it first in French, which had been his mother's native
tongue, and then putting it into the mysterious form we know, his
intention being to transmit it to the fazender of Iquitos, with the
cipher by which it could be read.

Death prevented his completing his work of reparation. Mortally
wounded in a scuffle with some negroes on the Madeira, Ortega felt he
was doomed. His comrade Torres was then with him. He thought he could
intrust to his friend the secret which had so grievously darkened his
life. He gave him the document, and made him swear to convey it to
Joam Dacosta, whose name and address he gave him, and with his last
breath he whispered the number 432513, without which the document
would remain undecipherable.

Ortega dead, we know how the unworthy Torres acquitted himself of his
mission, how he resolved to turn to his own profit the secret of
which he was the possessor, and how he tried to make it the subject
of an odious bargain.

Torres died without accomplishing his work, and carried his secret
with him. But the name of Ortega, brought back by Fragoso, and which
was the signature of the document, had afforded the means of
unraveling the cryptogram, dtanks to the sagacity of Judge Jarriquez.
Yes, the material proof sought after for so long was the
incontestable witness of the innocence of Joam Dacosta, returned to
life, restored to honor.

The cheers redoubled when the worthy magistrate, in a loud voice, and
for the edification of all, read from the document this terrible
history.

And from that moment Judge Jarriquez, whoo possessed this indubitable
proof, arranged with the chief of the police, and declined to allow
Joam Dacosta, while waiting new instructions from Rio Janeiro, to
stay in any prison but his own house.

There could be no difficulty about this, and in the center of the
crowd of the entire population of Manaos, Joam Dacosta, accompanied
by all his family, beheld himself conducted like a conquerer to the
magistrate's residence.

And in that minute the honest fazender of Iquitos was well repaid for
all that he had suffered during the long years of exile, and if he
was happy for his family's sake more than for his own, he was none
the less proud for his country's sake that this supreme injustice had
not been consummated!

And in all this what had become of Fragoso?

Well, the good-hearted fellow was covered with caresses! Benito,
Manoel, and Minha had overwhelmed him, and Lina had by no means
spared him. He did not know what to do, he defended himself as best
he could. He did not deserve anything like it. Chance alone had done
it. Were any thanks due to him for having recognized Torres as a
captain of the woods? No, certainly not. As to his idea of hurrying
off in search of the band to which Torres had belonged, he did not
think it had been worth much, and as to the name of Ortega, he did
not even know its value.

Gallant Fragoso! Whether he wished it or no, he had none the less
saved Joam Dacosta!

And herein what a strange succession of different events all tending
to the same end. The deliverance of Fragoso at the time when he was
dying of exhaustion in the forest of Iquitos; the hospitable
reception he had met with at the fazenda, the meeting with Torres on
the Brazilian frontier, his embarkation on the jangada; and lastly,
the fact that Fragoso had seen him somewhere before.

"Well, yes!" Fragoso ended by exclaiming; "but it is not to me that
all this happiness is due, it is due to Lina!"

"To me?" replied the young mulatto.

"No doubt of it. Without the liana, without the idea of the liana,
could I ever have been the cause of so much happiness?"

So that Fragoso and Lina were praised and petted by all the family,
and by all the new friends whom so many trials had procured them at
Manaos, need hardly be insisted on.

But had not Judge Jarriquez also had his share in this rehabilitation
of an innocent man? If, in spite of all the shrewdness of his
analytical talents, he had not been able to read the document, which
was absolutely undecipherable to any one who had not got the key, had
he not at any rate discovered the system on which the cryptogram was
composed? Without him what could have been done with only the name of
Ortega to reconstitute the number which the author of the crime and
Torres, both of whom were dead, alone knew?

And so he also received abundant thanks.

Needless to say that the same day there was sent to Rio de Janeiro a
detailed report of the whole affair, and with it the original
document and the cipher to enable it to be read. New instructions
from the minister of justice had to be waited for, though there could
be no doubt that they would order the immediate discharge of the
prisoner. A few days would thus have to be passed at Manaos, and then
Joam Dacosta and his people, free from all constraint, and released
from all apprehension, would take leave of their host to go on board
once more and continue their descent of the Amazon to Para, where the
voyage was intended to terminate with the double marriage of Minha
and Manoel and Lina and Fragoso.

Four days afterward, on the fourth of September, the order of
discharge arrived. The document had been recognized as authentic. The
handwriting was really that of Ortega, who had been formerly employed
in the diamond district, and there could be no doubt that the
confession of his crime, with the minutest details that were given,
had been entirely written with his own hand.

The innocence of the convict of Villa Rica was at length admitted.
The rehabilitation of Joam Dacosta was at last officially proclaimed.

That very day Judge Jarriquez dined with the family on board the
giant raft, and when evening came he shook hands with them all.
Touching were the adieus, but an engagement was made for them to see
him again on their return at Manaos, and later on the fazenda of
Iquitos.

On the morning of the morrow, the fifth of September, the signal for
departure was given. Joam Dacosta and Yaquita, with their daughter
and sons, were on the deck of the enormous raft. The jangada had its
moorings slackened off and began to move with the current, and when
it disappeared round the bend of the Rio Negro, the hurrahs of the
whole population of Manaos, who were assembled on the bank, again and
again re-echoed across the stream.

CHAPTER XX. THE LOWER AMAZON

LITTLE REMAINS to tell of the second part of the voyage down the
mighty river. It was but a series of days of joy. Joam Dacosta
returned to a new life, which shed its happiness on all who belonged
to him.

The giant raft glided along with greater rapidity on the waters now
swollen by the floods. On the left they passed the small village of
Don Jose de Maturi, and on the right the mouth of that Madeira which
owes its name to the floating masses of vegetable remains and trunks
denuded of their foliage which it bears from the depths of Bolivia.
They passed the archipelago of Caniny, whose islets are veritable
boxes of palms, and before the village of Serpa, which, successively
transported from one back to the other, has definitely settled on the
left of the river, with its little houses, whose thresholds stand on
the yellow carpet of the beach.

The village of Silves, built on the left of the Amazon, and the town
of Villa Bella, which is the principal guarana market in the whole
province, were soon left behind by the giant raft. And so was the
village of Faro and its celebrated river of the Nhamundas, on which,
in 1539, Orellana asserted he was attacked by female warriors, who
have never been seen again since, and thus gave us the legend which
justifies the immortal name of the river of the Amazons.

Here it is that the province of Rio Negro terminates. The
jurisdiction of Para then commences; and on the 22d of September the
family, marveling much at a valley which has no equal in the world,
entered that portion of the Brazilian empire which has no boundary to
the east except the Atlantic.

"How magnificent!" remarked Minha, over and over again.

"How long!" murmured Manoel.

"How beautiful!" repeated Lina.

"When shall we get there?" murmured Fragoso.

And this was what might have been expected of these folks from the
different points of view, though time passed pleasantly enough with
them all the same. Benito, who was neither patient nor impatient, had
recovered all his former good humor.

Soon the jangada glided between interminable plantations of
cocoa-trees with their somber green flanked by the yellow thatch or
ruddy tiles of the roofs of the huts of the settlers on both banks
from Obidos up to the town of Monto Alegre.

Then there opened out the mouth of the Rio Trombetas, bathing with
its black waters the houses of Obidos, situated at about one hundred
and eighty miles from Belem, quite a small town, and even a
"citade" with large streets bordered with handsome habitations, and
a great center for cocoa produce. Then they saw another tributary,
the Tapajos, with its greenish-gray waters descending from the
south-west; and then Santarem, a wealthy town of not less than five
thousand inhabitants, Indians for the most part, whose nearest houses
were built on the vast beach of white sand.

After its departure from Manaos the jangada did not stop anywhere as
it passed down the much less encumbered course of the Amazon. Day and
night it moved along under the vigilant care of its trusty pilot; no
more stoppages either for the gratification of the passengers or for
business purposes. Unceasingly it progressed, and the end rapidly
grew nearer.

On leaving Alemquer, situated on the left bank, a new horizon
appeared in view. In place of the curtain of forests which had shut
them in up to then, our friends beheld a foreground of hills, whose
undulations could be easily descried, and beyond them the faint
summits of veritable mountains vandyked across the distant depth of
sky. Neither Yaquita, nor her daughter, nor Lina, nor old Cybele, had
ever seen anything like this.

But in this jurisdiction of Para, Manoel was at home, and he could
tell them the names of the double chain which gradually narrowed the
valley of the huge river.

"To the right," said he, "that is the Sierra de Paracuarta, which
curves in a half-circle to the south! To the left, that is the Sierra
de Curuva, of which we have already passed the first outposts."

"Then they close in?" asked Fragoso.

"They close in!" replied Manoel.

And the two young men seemed to understand each other, for the same
slight but significant nodding of the head accompanied the question
and reply.

At last, notwithstanding the tide, which since leaving Obidos had
begun to be felt, and which somewhat checked the progress of the
raft, the town of Monto Alegre was passed, then that of Pravnha de
Onteiro, then the mouth of the Xingu, frequented by Yurumas Indians,
whose principal industry consists in preparing their enemies' heads
for natural history cabinets.

To what a superb size the Amazon had now developed as already this
monarch of rivers gave signs of opening out like a sea! Plants from
eight to ten feet high clustered along the beach, and bordered it
with a forest of reeds. Porto de Mos, Boa Vista, and Gurupa, whose
prosperity is on the decline, were soon among the places left in the
rear.

Then the river divided into two important branches, which flowed off
toward the Atlantic, one going away northeastward, the other
eastward, and between them appeared the beginning of the large island
of Marajo. This island is quite a province in itself. It measures no
less than a hundred and eighty leagues in circumference. Cut up by
marshes and rivers, all savannah to the east, all forest to the west,
it offers most excellent advantages for the raising of cattle, which
can here be seen in their thousands. This immense barricade of Marajo
is the natural obstacle which has compelled the Amazon to divide
before precipitating its torrents of water into the sea. Following
the upper branch, the jangada, after passing the islands of Caviana
and Mexiana, would have found an embouchure of some fifty leagues
across, but it would also have bet with the bar of the prororoca,
that terrible eddy which, for the three days preceding the new or
full moon, takes but two minutes instead of six hours to raise the
river from twelve to fifteen feet above ordinary high-water mark.

This is by far the most formidable of tide-races. Most fortunately
the lower branch, known as the Canal of Breves, which is the natural
area of the Para, is not subject to the visitations of this terrible
phenomenon, and its tides are of a more regular description. Araujo,
the pilot, was quite aware of this. He steered, therefore, into the
midst of magnificent forests, here and there gliding past island
covered with muritis palms; and the weather was so favorable that
they did not experience any of the storms which so frequently rage
along this Breves Canal.

A few days afterward the jangada passed the village of the same name,
which, although built on the ground flooded for many months in the
year, has become, since 1845, an important town of a hundred houses.
Throughout these districts, which are frequented by Tapuyas, the
Indians of the Lower Amazon become more and more commingled with the
white population, and promise to be completely absorbed by them.

And still the jangada continued its journey down the river. Here, at
the risk of entanglement, it grazed the branches of the mangliers,
whose roots stretched down into the waters like the claws of gigantic
crustaceans; then the smooth trunks of the paletuviers, with their
pale-green foliage, served as the resting-places for the long poles
of the crew as they kept the raft in the strength of the current.

Then came the Tocantins, whose waters, due to the different rivers of
the province of Goyaz, mingle with those of the Amazon by an
embouchure of great size, then the Moju, then the town of Santa
Ana.

Majestically the panorama of both banks moved along without a pause,
as though some ingenious mechanism necessitated its unrolling in the
opposite direction to that of the stream.

Already numerous vessels descending the river, ubas, egariteas,
vigilandas, pirogues of all builds, and small coasters from the lower
districts of the Amazon and the Atlantic seaboard, formed a
procession with the giant raft, and seemed lke sloops beside some
might man-of-war.

At length here appeared on the left Santa Maria de Belem do Para--the
"town" as they call it in that country--with its picturesque lines of
white houses at many different levels, its convents nestled among the
palm-trees, the steeples of its cathedral and of Nostra Senora de
Merced, and the flotilla of its brigantines, brigs, and barks, which
form its commercial communications with the old world.

The hearts of the passengers of the giant raft beat high. At length
they were coming to the end of the voyage which they had thought they
would never reach. While the arrest of Joam detained them at Manaos,
halfway on their journey, could they ever have hoped to see the
capital of the province of Para?

It was in the course of this day, the 15th of October--four months
and a half after leaving the fazenda of Iquitos--that, as they
rounded a sharp bend in the river, Belem came into sight.

The arrival of the jangada had been signaled for some days. The whole
town knew the story of Joam Dacosta. They came forth to welcome him,
and to him and his people accorded a most sympathetic reception.

Hundreds of craft of all sorts conveyed them to the fazender, and
soon the jangada was invaded by all those who wished to welcome the
return of their compatriot after his long exile. Thousands of
sight-seers--or more correctly speaking, thousands of friends crowded
on to the floating village as soon as it came to its moorings, and it
was vast and solid enough to support the entire population. Among
those who hurried on board one of the first pirogues had brought
Madame Valdez. Manoel's mother was at last able to clasp to her arms
the daughter whom her son had chosen. If the good lady had not been
able to come to Iquitos, was it not as though a portion of the
fazenda, with her new family, had come down the Amazon to her?

Before evening the pilot Araujo had securely moored the raft at the
entrance of a creek behind the arsenal. That was to be its last
resting-place, its last halt, after its voyage of eight hundred
leagues on the great Brazilian artery. There the huts of the Indians,
the cottage of the negroes, the store-rooms which held the valuable
cargo, would be gradually demolished; there the principal dwelling,
nestled beneath its verdant tapestry of flowers and foliage, and the
little chapel whose humble bell was then replying to the sounding
clangor from the steeples of Belem, would each in its turn disappear.

But, ere this was done, a ceremony had to take place on the
jangada--the marriage of Manoel and Minha, the marriage of Lina and
Fragoso. To Father Passanha fell the duty of celebrating the double
union which promised so happily. In that little chapel the two
couples were to receive the nuptial benediction from his hands.

If it happened to be so small as to be only capable of holding the
members of Dacosta's family, was not the giant raft large enough to
receive all those who wished to assist at the ceremony? and if not,
and the crowd became swo great, did not the ledges of the river banks
afford sifficient room for as many others of the sympathizing crowd
as were desirous of welcoming him whom so signal a reparation had
made the hero of the day?

It was on the morrow, the 16th of October, that with great pomp the
marriages were celebrated.

It was a magnificent day, and from about ten o'clock in the morning
the raft began to receive its crowd of guests. On the bank could be
seen almost the entire population of Belem in holiday costume. On the
river, vessels of all sorts crammed with visitors gathered round the
enormous mass of timber, and the waters of the Amazon literally
disappeared even up to the left bank beneath the vast flotilla.

When the chapel bell rang out its opening note it seemed like a
signal of joy to ear and eye. In an instant the churches of Belem
replied to the bell of the jangada. The vessels in the port decked
themselves with flags up to their mastheads, and the Brazilian colors
were saluted by the many other national flags. Discharges of musketry
reverberated on all sides, and it was only with difficulty that their
joyous detonations could cope with the loud hurrahs from the
assembled thousands.

The Dacosta family came forth from their house and moved through the
crowd toward the little chapel. Joam was received with absolutely
frantic applause. He gave his arm to Madame Valdez; Yaquita was
escorted by the governor of Belem, who, accompanied by the friends of
the young army surgeon, had expressed a wish to honor the ceremony
with his presence. Manoel walked by the side of Minha, who looked
most fascinating in her bride's costume, and then came Fragoso,
holding the hand of Lina, who seemed quite radiant with joy. Then
followed Benito, then old Cybele and the servants of the worthy
family between the double ranks of the crew of the jangada.

Padre Passanha awaited the two couples at the entrance of the chapel.
The ceremony was very simple, and the same bands which had formerly
blessed Joam and Yaquita were again stretched forth to give the
nuptial benediction to their child.

So much happiness was not likely to be interrupted by the sorrow of
long separation. In fact, Manoel Valdez almost immediately sent in
his resignation, so as to join the family at Iquitos, where he is
still following the profession of a country doctor.

Naturally the Fragosos did not hesitate to go back with those who
were to them friends rather than masters.

Madame Valdez had no desire to separate so happy a group, but she
insisted on one thing, and that was that they should often come and
see her at Belem. Nothing could be easier. Was not the mighty river a
bond of communication between Belem and Iquitos? In a few days the
first mail steamer was to begin a regular and rapid service, and it
would then only take a week to ascend the Amazon, on which it had
taken the giant raft so many months to drift. The important
commercial negotiations, ably managed by Benito, were carried through
under the best of conditions, and soon of what had formed this
jangada--that is to say, the huge raft of timber constructed from an
entire forest at Iquitos--there remained not a trace.

A month afterward the fazender, his wife, his son, Manoel and Minha
Valdez, Lina and Fragoso, departed by one of the Amazon steamers for
the immense establishment at Iquitos of which Benito was to take the
management.

Joam Dacosta re-entered his home with his head erect, and it was
indeed a family of happy hearts which he brought back with him from
beyond the Brazilian frontier. As for Fragoso, twenty times a day was
he heard to repeat, "What! without the liana?" and he wound up by
bestowing the name on the young mulatto who, by her affection for the
gallant fellow, fully justified its appropriateness. "If it were not
for the one letter," he said, "would not Lina and Liana be the same?"

eBook Info

Identifier:

800lg

Title:

Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon

Author:

Jules Verne

Creator:

David Moynihan

Date:

10/6/2001

Copyrights:

None

Publisher:

Blackmask Online