But dont you know where any of the household have gone? he asked, when the excited negro paused to recover breath.
Dont know nuffin. Arter I poke de holes in de scoundrils, I was bleeged to bolt. When I come back, de ole house was in flames, an eberybody gonewhat wasnt dead. I hollereday, till I was amost bustedbut nobody reply. Den I bury de dead ones, an Ive hoed about eber since slobberin an wringin my hands.
Was our old clerk among the slain? asked Lawrence.
No, massa, but I tinks hes a dead one now, for he too ole to run far.
And I suppose you cant even guess where any of those who escaped went to?
Couldnt guess more nor a Red Injins noo-born babby.
Quashy, said Lawrence in a low voice, be careful how you speak of Indians.
He glanced, as he spoke, at Manuela, who now sat with grave face and downcast eyes, having apparently found that the human countenance, however expressive, failed to make up for the want of language.
And, truly, Quashys countenance was unwontedly mobile and expressive. Every feature seemed to possess the power of independently betraying the thoughts and feelings of the man, so that when they all united for that end the effect was marvellous. Emotional, and full of quick sympathy, Quashys visage changed from grave to gay, pitiful to fierce, humorous to savage, at a moments notice. When, therefore, he received the gentle rebuke above referred to, his animated countenance assumed a sudden aspect of utter woe and self-condemnation that may be conceived but cannot be described, and when Lawrence gave vent to a short laugh at the unexpected change, Quashys eyes glistened with an arch look, and his mouth expanded from ear to ear.
And what an expansion that was, to be sure! when you take into account the display of white teeth and red gums by which it was accompanied.
Well, now, Quash, resumed Lawrence, what did you do after that?
Arter what, massa?
After finding that slobbering and wringing your hands did no good.
Oh! arter dat, I not know what to do, an den I tried to dieI was so misrable. But I couldnt. Youve no notion how hard it is to die when you wants to. Anyhow I couldnt manage it, so I gib up tryin.
At this point Manuela rose, and, bidding Pedro good-night in the Indian tongue, passed into her little chamber and shut the door.
And what do you intend to do now, Quash? asked Lawrence.
Stick to you, massa, troo tick an tin, returned the negro with emphatic promptitude, which caused even Pedro to laugh.
My poor fellow, that is impossible, said Lawrence, who then explained his position and circumstances, showing how it was that he had little money and no immediate prospect of obtaining any,that, in short, he was about to start out in the wide world friendless and almost penniless to seek his fortune. To all of which the negro listened with a face so utterly devoid of expression of any kind that his old master and playmate could not tell how he took it.
And now, he asked in conclusion, what say you to all that?
Stick to you troo tick and tin, repeated Quashy, in a tone of what might be styled sulky firmness.
But, said Lawrence, I cant pay you any wages.
Don want no wages, said Quashy.
Besides, resumed Lawrence, even if I were willing to take you, Senhor Pedro might object.
I no care for Senhor Pedro one brass buttin, retorted the negro.
The Peruvian smiled rather approvingly at this candid expression of opinion.
Where you gwine? asked Quashy, abruptly.
To Buenos Ayres.
Is gwine to Bens Airies too. Is a free nigger, an no mortial man kin stop me.
As Quashy remained obdurate, and, upon consultation, Lawrence and Pedro came to the conclusion that such a sturdy, resolute fellow might be rather useful in the circumstances, it was finally arranged, to the poor fellows inexpressible delight, that he should accompany them in their long journey to the far east.
Chapter Three.
Lingual Difficulties Accompanied by Physical Dangers and followed by the Advent of Banditti
After several days had passed away, our travellers found themselves among the higher passes of the great mountain range of the Andes.
Before reaching that region, however, they had, in one of the villages through which they passed, supplied themselves each with a fresh stout mule, besides two serviceable animals to carry their provisions and camp equipage.
Pedro, who of course rode ahead in the capacity of guide, seemed to possess an unlimited supply of cash, and Lawrence Armstrong had at least sufficient to enable him to bear his fair share of the expenses of the journey. As for Quashy, being a servant he had no expenses to bear.
Of course the finest, as well as the best-looking, mule had been given to the pretty Manuela, and, despite the masculine attitude of her position, she sat and managed her steed with a grace of motion that might have rendered many a white dame envious. Although filled with admiration, Lawrence was by no means surprised, for he knew well that in the Pampas, or plains, to which region her father belonged, the Indians are celebrated for their splendid horsemanship. Indeed, their little children almost live on horseback, commencing their training long before they can mount, and overcoming the difficulty of smallness in early youth, by climbing to the backs of their steeds by means of a fore-leg, and not unfrequently by the tail.
The costume of the girl was well suited to her present mode of life, being a sort of light tunic reaching a little below the knees, with loose leggings, which were richly ornamented with needlework. A straw hat with a simple feather, covered her head, beneath which her curling black hair flowed in unconfined luxuriance. She wore no ornament of any kind, and the slight shoes that covered her small feet were perfectly plain. In short, there was a modest simplicity about the girls whole aspect and demeanour which greatly interested the Englishman, inducing him to murmur to himself, What an uncommonly pretty girl she would be if she were only white!
The colour of her skin was, indeed, unusually dark, but that fact did not interfere with the classic delicacy of her features, or the natural sweetness of her expression.
The order of progress in narrow places was such that Manuela rode behind Pedro and in front of Lawrence, Quashy bringing up the rear. In more open places the young Englishman used occasionally to ride up abreast of Manuela and endeavour to engage her in conversation. He was, to say truth, very much the reverse of what is styled a ladys man, and had all his life felt rather shy and awkward in female society, but being a sociable, kindly fellow, he felt it incumbent on him to do what in him lay to lighten the tedium of the long journey to one who, he thought, must naturally feel very lonely with no companions but men. Besides, he whispered to himself, she is only an Indian, and of course cannot construe my attentions to mean anything so ridiculous as love-makingso, I will speak to her in a fatherly sort of way.
Filled with this idea, as the party came out upon a wide and beautiful table-land, which seemed like a giant emerald set in a circlet of grand blue mountains, Lawrence pushed up alongside, and said
Poor girl, I fear that such prolonged riding over these rugged passes must fatigue you. Manuela raised her dark eyes to the youths face, and, with a smile that was very slightthough not so slight but that it revealed a double row of bright little teethshe replied softly
Wat you say?
Oh! I forgot, you dont speak English. How stupid I am! said Lawrence with a blush, for he was too young to act the fatherly part well.
He felt exceedingly awkward, but, observing that the girls eyes were again fixed pensively on the ground, he hoped that she had not noticed the blush, and attempted to repeat the phrase in Spanish. What he said it is not possible to set down in that tongue, nor can we gratify the reader with a translation. Whatever it was, Manuela replied by again raising her dark eyes for a momentthis time without a smileand shaking her head.
Poor Lawrence felt more awkward than ever. In despair he half thought of making trial of Latin or Greek, when Pedro came opportunely to the rescue. Looking back he began
Senhor Armstrong
I think, interrupted the youth, that you may dispense with Senhor.
Nay, I like to use it, returned the guide. It reminds me so forcibly of the time when I addressed your good old father thus.
Well, Senhor Pedro, call me what you please. What were you about to say?
Only that we are now approaching one of the dangerous passes of the mountains, where baggage-mules sometimes touch the cliffs with their packs, and so get tilted over the precipices. But our mules are quiet, and with ordinary care we have nothing to fear.
The gorge in the mountains, which the travellers soon afterwards entered, fully justified the guides expression dangerous. It was a wild, rugged glen, high up on one side of which the narrow pathway woundin some places rounding a cliff or projecting boulder, which rendered the passage of the baggage-mules extremely difficult. Indeed, one of the mules did slightly graze a rock with its burden; and, although naturally sure-footed, was so far thrown off its balance as to be within a hairs-breadth of tumbling over the edge and being dashed to pieces on the rocks below, where a turbulent river rushed tumultuously at the bottom of the glen.
One of the snow-clad peaks of the higher Andes lay right before them. One or two guanacosanimals of the lama speciesgazed at them from the other side of the gorge, and several ill-omened vultures wheeled in the sky above, as if anticipating a catastrophe which would furnish them with a glorious meal.
A most suitable place for the depredations of banditti, or fellows like Conrad of the Mountains, I should think, said Lawrence.
Bandits are sometimes met with here, returned Pedro, quietly.
And what if we should meet with such in a place where there is scarcely room to fight?
Why then, returned the guide, with a slight curl of his moustache, we should have to try who could fight best in the smallest space.
Not a pleasant prospect in the circumstances, said Lawrence, thinking of Manuela.
For some time they rode together in silence; but Quashy, who had overheard, the conversation, and was of a remarkably combative disposition, though the reverse of bad-tempered or quarrelsome, could not refrain from asking
Wy de Guvmint not hab lots ob sojers an pleece in de mountains to squash de raskils?
Because Government has enough to do to squash the rascals nearer home, Quashy, answered Pedro. Have a care, the track gets rather steep here.
He glanced over his shoulder at the Indian girl as he spoke. She was riding behind with an air of perfect ease and self-possession.
Fall to the rear, Quashy, said Pedro.
The black obeyed at once, and a minute later they turned the corner of a jutting rock, which had hitherto shut out from view the lower part of the gorge and the track they were following.
The sight that met their view was calculated to try the strongest nerves, for there, not a hundred paces in advance, and coming towards them, were ten of the most villainous-looking cut-throats that could be imagined, all mounted, and heavily armed with carbine, sword, and pistol.
Taken completely by surprise, the banditsfor such Pedro knew them to bepulled up. Not so our guide. It was one of the peculiarities and strong points of Pedros character that he was never taken by surprise, or uncertain what to do.
Instantly he drew his sword with one hand, a pistol with the other, and, driving his spurs deep into his mule, dashed down the steep road at the banditti. In the very act he looked back, and, in a voice that caused the echoes of the gorge to ring, shouted in Spanish
Come on, comrades! here they are at last! close up!
A yell of the most fiendish excitement and surprise from Quashywho was only just coming into viewassisted the deception. If anything was wanting to complete the effect, it was the galvanic upheaval of Lawrences long arms and the tremendous flourish of his longer legs, as he vaulted over his mules head, left it scornfully behind, uttered a roar worthy of an African lion, and rushed forward on foot. He grasped his great cudgel, for sword and pistol had been utterly forgotten!
Like a human avalanche they descended on the foe. That foe did not await the onset. Panic-stricken they turned and went helter-skelter down the passall except two, who seemed made of sterner stuff than their fellows, and hesitated.
One of these Pedro rode fairly down, and sent, horse and all, over the precipice. Lawrences cudgel beat down the guard of the other, flattened his sombrero, and stopping only at his skull, stretched him on the ground. As for those who had fled, the appalling yells of Quashy, as he pursued them, scattered to the winds any fag-ends of courage they might have possessed, and effectually prevented their return. So tremendous and sudden was the result, that Manuela felt more inclined to laugh than cry, though naturally a good deal frightened.
Lawrence and Pedro were standing in consultation over the fallen bandit when the negro came back panting from the chase.
Das wan good job dooed, anyhow, he said. Whats you be do wid him?
What would you recommend? asked Pedro.
The negro pointed significantly to the precipice, but the guide shook his head.
No, I cannot kill in cold blood, though I have no doubt he richly deserves it. Well bind his hands and leave him. It may be weakness on my part, but we cant take him on, you know.
While Pedro was in the act of binding the robber, a wild shriek, as of some one in terrible agony, startled them. Looking cautiously over the precipice, where the sound seemed to come from, they saw that the man whom Pedro had ridden down was hanging over the abyss by the boughs of a small shrub. His steed lay mangled on the rocks of the river bank at the bottom. There was an agonised expression in the mans countenance which would have touched a heart much less soft than that of Lawrence Armstrong. Evidently the mans power of holding on was nearly exhausted, and he could not repress a shriek at the prospect of the terrible death which seemed so imminent.
Being a practised mountaineer, Lawrence at once, without thought of personal danger, and moved only by pity, slipped over the crags, and, descending on one or two slight projections, the stability of which even a Swiss goat might have questioned, reached the bush. A look of fierce and deadly hate was on the robbers face, for, judging of others by himself, he thought, no doubt, that his enemy meant to hasten his destruction.
Here, catch holdIll save you! cried Lawrence, extending his strong right hand.
A glance of surprise told that he was understood. The bandit let go the hold of one of his hands and made a convulsive grasp at his rescuer. Their fingers touched, but at the same moment the branch gave way, and, with a cry of wild despair, the wretched man went headlong down.