CHAPTER X
AN ENEMY IN THE NIGHT--THE VAMPIRE BAT--THE HERMIT DISCOURSES ON STRANGE,AND CURIOUS, AND INTERESTING THINGS
Next morning Martin Rattler awoke with a feeling of lightness in hishead, and a sensation of extreme weakness pervading his entire frame.Turning his head round to the right he observed that a third hammock wasslung across the further end of the hut; which was, no doubt, that inwhich the hermit had passed the night. But it was empty now. Martin didnot require to turn his head to the other side to see if BarneyO'Flannagan was there, for that worthy individual made his presenceknown, for a distance of at least sixty yards all round the outside ofthe hut, by means of his nose, which he was in the habit of using as atrumpet when asleep. It was as well that Martin did not require to lookround; for he found, to his surprise, that he had scarcely strength to doso. While he was wondering in a dreamy sort of manner what could be thematter with him, the hermit entered the hut bearing a small deer upon hisshoulders. Resting his gun in a corner of the room, he advanced toMartin's hammock.
"My boy," he exclaimed, in surprise, "what is wrong with you?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Martin, faintly; "I think there issomething wet about my feet."
Turning up the sheet, he found that Martin's feet were covered withblood! For a few seconds the hermit growled forth a number of apparentlyvery pithy sentences in Portuguese, in a deep guttural voice, whichawakened Barney with a start. Springing from his hammock with a boundlike a tiger, he exclaimed, "Och! ye blackguard, would ye murther the boybefore me very nose?" and seizing the hermit in his powerful grasp, hewould infallibly have hurled him, big though he was, through his owndoorway, had not Martin cried out, "Stop, stop, Barney. It's all right;he's done nothing:" on hearing which the Irishman loosened his hold, andturned towards his friend.
"What's the matter, honey?" said Barney, in a soothing tone of voice, asa mother might address her infant son. The hermit, whose composure hadnot been in the slightest degree disturbed, here said--
"The poor child has been sucked by a vampire bat."
"Ochone!" groaned Barney, sitting down on the table, and looking at hishost with a face of horror.
"Yes, these are the worst animals in Brazil for sucking the blood ofmen and cattle. I find it quite impossible to keep my mules alive, theyare so bad."
Barney groaned.
"They have killed two cows which I tried to keep here, and one younghorse--a foal you call him, I think; and now I have no cattle remaining,they are so bad."
Barney groaned again, and the hermit went on to enumerate the wickeddeeds of the vampire bats, while he applied poultices of certain herbs toMartin's toe, in order to check the bleeding, and then bandaged it up;after which he sat down to relate to his visitors the manner in which thebat carries on its bloody operations. He explained, first of all, thatthe vampire bats are so large and ferocious that they often kill horsesand cattle by sucking their blood out. Of course they cannot do this atone meal, but they attack the poor animals again and again, and the bloodcontinues to flow from the wounds they make long afterwards, so that thecreatures attacked soon grow weak and die. They attack men, too,--asMartin knew to his cost; and they usually fix upon the toes and otherextremities. So gentle are they in their operations, that sleepersfrequently do not feel the puncture, which they make, it is supposed,with the sharp hooked nail of their thumb; and the unconscious victimknows nothing of the enemy who has been draining his blood until heawakens, faint and exhausted, in the morning.
Moreover, the hermit told them that these vampire bats have very sharp,carnivorous teeth, besides a tongue which is furnished with the curiousorgans by which they suck the life-blood of their fellow-creatures; thatthey have a peculiar, leaf-like, overhanging lip; and that he had astuffed specimen of a bat that measured no less than two feet across theexpanded wings, from tip to tip,
"Och, the blood-thirsty spalpeen!" exclaimed Barney, as he rose andcrossed the room to examine the bat in question, which was nailed againstthe wall. "Bad luck to them, they've ruined Martin intirely."
"O no," remarked the hermit with a smile. "It will do the boy much goodthe loss of the blood; much good, and he will not be sick at allto-morrow."
"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Martin, "for it would be a great boreto be obliged to lie here when I've so many things to see. In fact I feelbetter already, and if you will be so kind as to give me a littlebreakfast I shall be quite well,"
While Martin was speaking, the obliging hermit,--who, by the way, was nowhabited in a loose short hunting-coat of brown cotton,--spread aplentiful repast upon his table; to which, having assisted Martin to getout of his hammock, they all proceeded to do ample justice: for thetravellers were very hungry after the fatigue of the previous day; and asfor the hermit, he looked like a man whose appetite was always sharp setand whose food agreed with him.
They had cold meat of several kinds, and a hot steak of venison justkilled that morning, which the hermit cooked while his guests wereengaged with the other viands. There was also excellent coffee, andsuperb cream, besides cakes made of a species of coarse flour or meal,fruits of various kinds, arid very fine honey.
"Arrah! ye've the hoith o' livin' here!" cried Barney, smacking his lipsas he held out his plate for another supply of a species of meat whichresembled chicken in tenderness and flavour. "What sort o' bird or bastemay that be, now, av' I may ask ye, Mister--what's yer name?"
"My name is Carlos," replied the hermit, gravely; "and this is the fleshof the Armadillo."
"Arma--what--o?" inquired Barney.
"Arma_dillo_," repeated the hermit. "He is very good to eat, but verydifficult to catch. He digs down so fast we cannot catch him, and mustsmoke him out of his hole."
"Have you many cows?" inquired Martin, as he replenished his cupwith coffee.
"Cows?" echoed the hermit, "I have got no cows."
"Where do you get such capital cream, then?" asked Martin in surprise.
The hermit smiled. "Ah! my friends, that cream has come from a verycurious cow. It is from a cow that grows in the ground."
"Grows!" ejaculated his guests.
"Yes, he grows. I will show him to you one day."
The hermit's broad shoulders shook with a quiet internal laugh. "I willexplain a little of that you behold on my table.
"The coffee I get from the trees. There are plenty of them here. Muchmoney is made in Brazil by the export of coffee,--very much. The cakesare made from the mandioca-root, which I grow near my house. The root isdried and ground into flour, which, under the general _name farina_, isused all over the country. It is almost the only food used by the Indiansand Negroes."
"Then there are Injins and Niggers here, are there?" inquired Barney.
"Yes, a great many. Most of the Negroes are slaves; some of the Indianstoo; and the people who are descended from the Portuguese who came andtook the country long ago, they are the masters.--Well, the honey I getin holes in the trees. There are different kinds of honey here; some ofit is _sour_ honey. And the fruits and roots, the plantains, andbananas, and yams, and cocoa-nuts, and oranges, and plums, all grow inthe forest, and much more besides, which you will see for yourselves ifyou stay long here."
"It's a quare country, intirely," remarked Barney, as he wiped his mouthand heaved a sigh of contentment. Then, drawing his hand over his chin,he looked earnestly in the hermit's face, and, with a peculiar twinkle inhis eye, said--
"I s'pose ye couldn't favour me with the lind of a raazor, could ye?"
"No, my friend; I never use that foolish weapon."
"Ah, well, as there's only monkeys and jaguars, and sich like to see me,it don't much signify; but my mustaches is gitin' mighty long, for I'vebeen two weeks already without a shave."
Martin laughed heartily at the grave, anxious expression of hiscomrade's face. "Never mind, Barney," he said, "a beard and moustachewill improve you vastly. Besides, they will be a great protectionagainst mosquitoes; for you are such a hairy monster, that when
theygrow nothing of your face will be exposed except your eyes andcheek-bones. And now," continued Martin, climbing into his hammock againand addressing the hermit, "since you won't allow me to go out a-huntingto-day, I would like very much if you would tell me something more aboutthis strange country."
"An' may be," suggested Barney, modestly, "ye won't object to tell ussomething about yersilf,--how you came for to live in this quare,solitary kind of a way."
The hermit looked gravely from one to the other, and stroked his beard.Drawing his rude chair towards the door of the hut, he folded his arms,and crossed his legs, and gazed dreamily forth upon the rich landscape.Then, glancing again at his guests, he said, slowly: "Yes, I will do whatyou ask,--I will tell you my story."
"An', if I might make so bould as to inquire," said Barney, with adeprecatory smile, while he drew a short black pipe from his pocket,"have ye got such a thing as 'baccy in them parts?"
The hermit rose, and going to a small box which stood in a corner,returned with a quantity of cut tobacco in one hand, and a cigar not farshort of a foot long in the other! In a few seconds the cigar was goingin full force, like a factory chimney; and the short black pipe glowedlike a miniature furnace, while its owner seated himself on a low stool,crossed his arms on his breast, leaned his back against the door-post,and smiled,--as only an Irishman can smile under such circumstances. Thesmoke soon formed a thick cloud, which effectually drove the mosquitoesout of the hut, and through which Martin, lying in his hammock, gazed outupon the sunlit orange and coffee trees, and tall palms with their richfestoons of creeping plants, and sweet-scented flowers, that clamberedover and round the hut and peeped in at the open door and windows, whilehe listened to the hermit, who continued for at least ten minutes tomurmur slowly, between the puffs of his cigar, "Yes, I will do it; I willtell you my story."
Martin Rattler Page 12