In the Footprints of the Padres | Page 7

his
sun-bath. Shall I ever forget the excitement occasioned by the
discovery of our first alligator! Not the ancient and honorable crocodile
of the Nile was ever greeted with greater enthusiasm; yet our sportsmen
had very little respect for him, and his sleep was disturbed by a shower
of bullets that spattered upon his hoary scales as harmlessly as rain.

Though the alligator punctuated every adventurous hour of that
memorable voyage in Nicaragua, we children were more interested in
our Darwinian friends, the monkeys. They were of all shades and
shapes and sizes; they descended in troops among the trees by the river
side; they called to us and beckoned us shoreward; they cried to us,
they laughed at us; they reached out their bony arms, and stretched
wide their slim, cold hands to us, as if they would pluck us as we
passed. We exchanged compliments and clubs in a sham-battle that was
immensely diverting; we returned the missiles they threw at us as long
as the ammunition held out, but captured none of the enemy, nor did
the slightest damage--as far as we could ascertain.
Often the parrots squalled at us, but their vocabulary was limited; for
they were untaught of men. Sometimes the magnificent macaw flew
over us, with its scarlet plumage flickering like flame. Oh, but those
gorgeous birds were splashes of splendid color in the intense green of
that tropical background!
There were islands in this river,--islands that seemed to have no shores,
but lay half submerged in mid-stream, like huge water-logged bouquets.
There were sand-bars in the river, and upon these we sometimes ran,
and were brought to a sudden stand-still that startled us not a little; then
we backed off with what dignity we might, and gave the unwelcome
obstructions a wide berth.
Perhaps the most interesting event of the voyage was "wooding up." A
few hours after we had entered the river our steamer made for the shore.
More than once in her course she had rounded points that seemed to
block the way; and occasionally there were bends so abrupt that we
found ourselves apparently land-locked in the depths of a wilderness
which might well be called prodigious. Now it was evident that we
were heading for the shore, and with a purpose, too. As we drew nearer,
we saw among the deep tangle of leaves and vines a primitive landing.
It was a little dock with a thatched lodge in the rear of it and a few
cords of wood stacked upon its end. There were some natives
here--Indians probably,--with dark skins bared from head to foot; they
wore only the breech-clout, and this of the briefest. Evidently they were

children of Nature.
Having made fast to this dock, these woodmen speedily shouldered the
fuel and hurried it on board, while they chanted a rhythmical chant that
lent a charm to the scene. We were never weary of "wooding up," and
were always wondering where these gentle savages lived and how they
escaped with their lives from the thousand and one pests that haunted
the forest and lay in wait for them. Every biting and stinging thing was
there. The mosquitoes nearly devoured us, especially at night; while
serpents, scorpions, centipedes, possessed the jungle. There also was
the lair of larger game. It is said that sharks will pick a white man out
of a crowd of dark ones in the sea; not that he is a more tempting and
toothsome morsel--drenched with nicotine, he may indeed be less
appetizing than his dark-skinned, fruit-fed fellow,--but his silvery skin
is a good sea-mark, as the shark has often confirmed. So these dark
ones in the semi-darkness of the wood may, perhaps, pass with
impunity where a pale-face would fall an easy prey.
At the Rapids of Machuca we debarked. Here was a miry portage about
a mile in length, through which we waded right merrily; for it seemed
an age since last we had set foot to earth. Our freight was pulled up the
Rapids in bongas (row-boats), manned by natives; but our steamer
could not pass, and so returned to the Star of the West for another load
of passengers.
There was mire at Machuca, and steaming heat; but the path along the
river-bank was shaded by wondrous trees, and we were overwhelmed
with the offer of all the edible luxuries of the season at the most
alarming prices. There was no coin in circulation smaller than a dime.
Everything salable was worth a dime, or two or three, to the seller. It
didn't seem to make much difference what price was asked by the
merchant: he got it, or you went without refreshments. It was evident
there was no market between meals at Machuca Rapids, and steamer
traffic enlivened it but