In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land. Stables Gordon

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      In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land

PREFACE

      Every book should tell its own story without theaid of "preface" or "introduction". But as in thistale I have broken fresh ground, it is but right andjust to my reader, as well as to myself, to mentionprefatorially that, as far as descriptions go, both ofthe natives and the scenery of Bolivia and the mightyAmazon, my story is strictly accurate.

      I trust that Chapter XXIII, giving facts aboutsocial life in La Paz and Bolivia, with an account ofthat most marvellous of all sheets of fresh water inthe known world, Lake Titicaca, will be found ofgeneral interest.

      But vast stretches of this strange wild land ofBolivia are a closed book to the world, for they havenever yet been explored; nor do we know aught of thetribes of savages who dwell therein, as far removedfrom civilization and from the benign influence ofChristianity as if they were inhabitants of anotherplanet. I have ventured to send my heroes to thisland of the great unknown, and have at the sametime endeavoured to avoid everything that mightborder on sensationalism.

      In conclusion, my boys, if spared I hope to takeyou out with me again to Bolivia in another book, and together we may have stranger adventures thanany I have yet told.

      THE AUTHOR.

      CHAPTER I-ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON

      Miles upon miles from the banks of the mightyriver, had you wandered far away in theshade of the dark forest that clothed thevalleys and struggled high over the mountain-topsthemselves, you would have heard the roar and theboom of that great buzz-saw.

      As early as six of a morning it would start, or soonafter the sun, like a huge red-hot shot, had leapt upfrom his bed in the glowing east behind the greeneryof the hills and woods primeval.

      To a stranger coming from the south towards theAmazon-great queen of all the rivers on earth-andnot knowing he was on the borders of civilization, thesound that the huge saw made would have beendecidedly alarming.

      He would have stopped and listened, and listening, wondered. No menagerie of wild beasts could havesent forth a noise so loud, so strange, so persistent!Harsh and low at times, as its great teeth tore throughthe planks of timber, it would change presently into adull but dreadful basso profundo, such as might havebeen emitted by antediluvian monsters in the agoniesof death or torture, rising anon into a shrill howl orshriek, then subsiding once again into a steady gratingroar, that seemed to shake the very earth.

      Wild beasts in this black forest heard the sounds, and crept stealthily away to hide themselves in theircaves and dens; caymans or alligators heard them too,as they basked in the morning sunshine by lakeletor stream-heard them and crawled away into caves,or took to the water with a sullen plunge that causedthe finny inhabitants to dart away in terror to everypoint of the compass.

      "Up with the tree, lads. Feed him home," criedJake Solomons loudly but cheerily. "Our pet ishungry this morning. I say, Bill, doesn't she look abeauty. Ever see such teeth, and how they shine, too, in the red sunlight. Guess you never did, Bill.I say, what chance would the biggest 'gator that evercrawled have with Betsy here. Why, if Betsy gotone tooth in his hide she'd have fifty before youcould say 'Jerusalem', and that 'gator'd be cut in two.Tear away, Betsy! Grind and groan and growl, mylass! Have your breakfast, my little pet; why, yourvoice is sweetest music to my ear. I say, Bill, don'tthe saw-dust fly a few? I should smile!

      "But see," he continued, "yonder come the darkieswith our matutinal. Girls and boys with baskets, and I can see the steam curling up under Chloe's armfrom the great flagon she is carrying! Look how herwhite eyes roll, and her white teeth shine as she smilesher six-inch smile! Good girl is Chloe. She knowswe're hungry, and that we'll welcome her. Wo, now,Betsy! Let the water off, Bill. Betsy has had hersnack, and so we'll have ours."

      There was quietness now o'er hill and dell andforest-land.

      And this tall Yankee, Jake Solomons, who wasfully arrayed in cotton shirt and trousers, his brownarms bare to the shoulder, stretched his splendidlyknit but spare form with a sort of a yawn.

      "Heigho, Bill!" he said. "I'm pining forbreakfast. Aren't you?"

      "That I am," replied Burly Bill with his broadestgrin.

      Jake ran to the open side of the great saw-mill.Three or four strides took him there.

      "Ah! Good-morning, Chloe, darling! Morning,Keemo! Morning, Kimo!"

      "Mawning, sah!" This was a chorus.

      "All along dey blessed good-foh-nuffin boys I nocome so queeck," said Chloe.

      "Stay, stay, Chloe," cried Jake, "never let yourangry passions rise. 'Sides, Chloe, I calculate suchlanguage ain't half-proper. But how glittering yourcheeks are, Chloe, how white your teeth! There! yousmile again. And that vermilion blouse sets off yourdark complexion to a nicety, and seems just made forit. Chloe, I would kiss you, but the fear of makingBill jealous holds me back."

      Burly Bill shook with laughter. Bill was wellnamed the Burly. Though not so tall as Jake, hisframe was immense, though perhaps there was a littlemore adipose tissue about it than was necessary in aclimate like this. But Bill's strength was wonderful.See him, axe in hand, at the foot of a tree! How thechips fly! How set and determined the man's face, while the great beads of sweat stand like pearls onhis brow!

      Burly Bill was a white man turned black. Youcouldn't easily have guessed his age. Perhaps he wasforty, but at twenty, when still in England, Bill wassupple and lithe, and had a skin as white as a schoolboy's.But he had got stouter as the years rolled on, and his face tanned and tanned till it tired of tanning, and first grew purple, and latterly almost black. Thesame with those hirsute bare arms of his.

      There was none of the wild "Ha! ha!" about Bill'slaughter. It was a sort of suppressed chuckle, thatagitated all his anatomy, the while his merrygood-natured eyes sought shelter behind his cheeks'rotundity.

      Under a great spreading tree the two men laidthemselves down, and Chloe spread their breakfast ona white cloth between them, Jake keeping up hisfire of chaff and sweet nothings while she did so.Keemo and Kimo, and the other "good-foh-nuffin boys"had brought their morning meal to the men who fedthe great buzz-saw.

      "Ah, Chloe!" said Jake, "the odour of that coffeewould bring the dead to life, and the fish and the beefand the butter, Chloe! Did you do all this yourself?"

      "All, sah, I do all. De boys jes' kick about dekitchen and do nuffin."

      "Dear tender-eyed Chloe! How clever you are!Guess you won't be so kind to me when you and I getspliced, eh?"

      "Ah sah! you no care to marry a poor black gallike Chloe! Dere is a sweet little white missiewaiting somew'eres foh Massa Jake. I be your maid, andshine yo' boots till all de samee's Massa Bill's cheekfoh true."

      As soon as Chloe with her "good-foh-nuffin boys"had cleared away the breakfast things, and retiredwith a smile and saucy toss of her curly poll, the menlay back and lit their pipes.

      "She's a bright intelligent girl that," said Jake."I don't want a wife or-but I say, Bill, why don'tyou marry her? I guess she'd make ye a tip-topper."

      "Me! Is it marry?"

      Burly Bill held back his head and chuckled till hewell-nigh choked.

      Honest Bill's ordinary English showed that he camefrom the old country, and more particularly from theMidlands. But Bill could talk properly enough whenhe pleased, as will soon be seen.

      He smoked quietly enough for a time, but everynow and then he felt constrained to take hismeerschaum from his mouth and give another chuckle ortwo.

      "Tchoo-hoo-hoo!" he laughed. "Me marry! Andmarry Chloe! Tchoo-hoo-hoo!"

      "To change the subject, William," said Jake, "seein'as how you've pretty nearly chuckled yourself silly,or darned near it, how long have you left England?"

      "W'y, I coom over with Mr. St. Clair hisse'f, andRoland w'y he weren't more'n seven. Look at 'enow, and dear little Peggy, 'is sister by adoption asever was, weren't a month over four. Now Rolly 'ebees nigh onto fifteen, and Peggy-the jewel o' theplantation-she's goin' on for twelve, and main tallfor that. W'y time do fly! Don't she, Jake?"

      "Well,