Lippincotts Magazine, February 1873 | Page 5

hair. The teeth of the whole party were
chattering like a concert of castanets. The sun, like a practical joker,
laughed ironically at the general picture.
The first hours of morning were consecrated to a general examination
of the stores, especially the precious specimens of cinchona. Bundles
were restrapped, the damp provisions laid out in the sun, and the

clothing of the party, even to the most intimate garment, was taken
down to the river to be refreshed and furbished up. A common disaster
had created a common cause amongst the whole troop, and with one
accord everybody--peons, mozos, interpreters, bark-strippers and
gentlemen--set in motion a grand cleaning-up day. Napoleon-like, they
washed their dirty linen in the family. Whoever had seen the strangers
coming and going from the beach to the woods, clothed in most
abbreviated fashion, and seeming as familiar to the uniform as if they
had always worn it under the charitable mantle of the woods, would
have taken them for a savage tribe in the midst of its encampment. It is
probable they were so seen.
Thanks to the intense heat of the sun-shine, the garments and baggage
of the expedition were quickly dried. The first were donned, the last
was loaded on the porters, and the line of march was taken up. Up to
noon the road lay along the blazing sands under a sun of fire. All the
members of the party felt fresh and hardy after the involuntary bath,
except one of the Indians, who was affected with a kind of ophthalmia.
This attack, which Mr. Marcoy attributed partly to the glare, partly to
the wet, and partly to a singular hobby peculiar to the individual of
sleeping with his eyes wide open, was of no long duration. The pain
which he complained of disappeared with a few hours of exercise and
with the determination he showed in staring straight at the god of day,
who, as if in memory of the worship formerly extended toward him in
the country, deigned to serve as oculist for the sufferer. A little before
sunset halt was made for the night-camp in the centre of a beach
protected by clumps of reeds in three quarters of the wind. The Indian
porters, despatched for fish and firewood, returned suddenly with a
frightened mien to say that they had fallen into the midst of a camp of
savages. The white men quickly rejoined them at the spot indicated,
where they found a single hut in ruins, made of reeds which appeared
to have been cut for the construction some fortnight before, and strewn
with fire-brands, banana skins and the tail of a large fish. Pepe Garcia,
consulted on these indications, explained that it was in reality the
camping-place of some of the savage Siriniris, but that the narrowness
of the hut seemed to indicate that not more than two of the Indians,
probably a man and woman, had resided there during a short
fishing-excursion.

This discovery cast a shade over the countenances of the porters. After
having collected the provisions necessary for a slender supper, they
drew apart, and, while cooking was going on, began to converse with
each other in a low voice. No notice was taken of their behavior,
however, though it would have required little imagination to guess the
subject of their parliament. The tired eyes of the explorers were already
closed, while their ears, more alert, could hear the confused murmur
proceeding from the Indians' quarter, where the disposition seemed to
be to prolong the watch indefinitely.
[Illustration: "NAPOLEON-LIKE, THEY WASHED THEIR DIRTY
LINEN IN THE FAMILY"--P. 135.]
The dark hours filed past, and jocund day, according to Shakespeare
and Romeo, stood tiptoe on the mountain-tops of Camanti and Basiri,
when the travelers were awakened by a fierce and terrible cry. Lifting
their heads in astonishment, they perceived the faithful Pepe Garcia, his
face disfigured with rage, and his fist shaking vigorously in the
direction of the Indians, who sat lowering and sullen in their places.
Aragon and the cascarilleros, collected around the chief interpreter, far
from trying to calm his anger, appeared to feed it by their suggestions.
An explanation of the scene was demanded. Eight of the bearers, it
appeared, had deserted, leaving to their comrades the pleasure of
watching over the packages of cinchona, but assuming for their part the
charge of a good fraction of the provisions, which they had disappeared
with for the relief of their fellow-porters. This copious bleeding of the
larder drew from Colonel Perez a terrible oath, and occasioned a more
vivid sentiment in the entrails of Marcoy than the defection of the men.
If the evil was grand, the remedy was correspondingly difficult.
Indolent or mercurial at pleasure, the Indians had doubtless threaded
the woods with winged feet,