The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25)

by Gilbert, Morris

  Finally the cloud seemed to lift, and as Emily knelt there, she found herself smiling. “Thank you, Lord, for your forgiveness. I’ve about worn out First John 1:9, but I know I’ll use that verse for the rest of my life.” Indeed, the scripture was one of her favorites. “ ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ ”

  Getting to her feet, Emily was thankful to God for removing the oppressive cloud that had hung over her. She left the room and went downstairs and began pulling out the ingredients for supper, for she had decided to surprise her mother and cook a full-scale meal. She was an excellent cook, and soon she had planned the meal and put the ingredients together. She decided to fix a chocolate pudding first so it would have time to set and cool. Taking the milk from the refrigerator, she poured it into a saucepan, added flour, cocoa, and sugar, brought this to a boil, and then, when it thickened, she set it off to the side and added a little vanilla to bring out the sweetness. When the pudding was done, she poured it into single serving dishes and popped these into the refrigerator. She decided to have mashed potatoes with the meal, and she quickly began peeling and dicing the potatoes into a pan of water, then put them on the stove to boil. Next she went to the refrigerator again and removed some pork chops, which she rinsed under cold water. She arranged the chops in a shallow baking dish, added a small amount of water, butter, and seasoning, covered it, and put it in the oven to bake. Smiling with satisfaction, Emily looked at the mess she had made and began cleaning up after herself.

  Finally, with dinner under way, she went into the living room and sat down by the radio, turned it on, and began looking for a station to listen to. She and the rest of the family had fallen victim to the new national addiction that had been changing the habits of Americans. The two-year-old invention had caught on slowly at first, and amateur operators had objected to the stream of popular music that issued from the first radio station, operated by the Westinghouse Company.

  Emily, along with Wes, had no such objections to the radio. They had delighted in being able at times to tune in stations as far away as Havana or Miami. Now Emily listened to several new tunes that flowed out of the speaker: “Ma, He’s Makin’ Eyes at Me,” “There’ll Be Some Changes Made,” and “Toot, Toot, Tootsie, Good-Bye!”

  She laughed when they played a nonsense song entitled “Yes, We Have No Bananas,” and she felt the poignancy of a love spat when a quartet sang, “That Old Gang of Mine.” For a long time she sat there enjoying the music and relaxing, and finally she heard a door slam. Wes came in and found her sitting beside the radio.

  “There you go wasting your life.” He plumped down beside her and listened for a few moments, too.

  Emily decided she would break the news of what she’d done. “I’ve got to tell you something, Wes, but don’t say anything to Mom and Dad.”

  Wes looked up at once, noting the seriousness in Emily’s eyes. “What is it, sis? Is it trouble?”

  “I think it is, but mostly it’s with me. I’ve done a stupid thing.”

  Wes suddenly grinned. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Glad to hear it! Why?”

  “Because I do so many dumb things it’s nice to have a partner in stupidity. What have you done?”

  “I’ve quit my job.” Emily saw Wes’s eyes fly open with surprise, and she went on to relate how she had given her boss an ultimatum. “So now I’ve asked God to help me do something. Somehow I feel like I’ve come to a fork in the road, but I don’t see any other choice now but to go back and apologize to Sutton.” Wes sat there listening as Emily poured her heart out, and finally she threw her hands up and said, “I just don’t know what to do.”

  “I do,” Wes said at once. “We’ll pray. And while we’re at it, let’s pray that God will give us something to do together.”

  Emily stood up and went over to sit beside Wes. “I think that’s the best idea anyone could have. God’s able to do all things.”

  The two sat there and prayed, first Wes and then Emily, and when the prayer was over she looked up, her eyes a little misty. “I’m glad you’re here, Wes. I need you at times like this.”

  “I need you, too, sis. Now let’s look forward to what God is going to do for us. Whatever it is, I know it’ll be great!”

  ****

  Emily discovered that they were out of milk, so she walked to the store to get some. Her parents would be home soon, and as she passed by her old high school, she thought suddenly of Mr. Laurence. She had often thought of him since he had given his life in the war effort, and now a sadness came over her, for when she thought of him, her thoughts always went to Jared as well. She had to struggle against the grief that would still well up at times, wounding her spirit, as sharp and cutting as a sword.

  She stepped into the store, got the milk, and started home, and once again a vague memory came to her. She thought of Buck Leatherwood and the terrible evening she had spent with him. She grieved then, for Buck Leatherwood was now serving ten years in the penitentiary for armed robbery. He was a young man who had talent and a future but had blown it by one rash act. Feeling compassion for him over this tragedy, Emily had written to him in prison on a regular basis, and in each letter she managed to put in something about Jesus. At first Buck had been resentful, angry, and bitter, but she could tell from the tone of his letters that he was changing, and she found herself, as she entered the house, breathing a prayer for him.

  As she opened the door, Wes said, “The mail’s come, sis.” Emily stopped at the table in the hall and, holding the milk in the crook of her arm, reached down and picked up the letters. There was only one for her, but her heart beat suddenly faster when she saw the National Geographic return address. She had flooded various magazines with submissions, hoping for a substantial project, but the rejections had come rapidly. Still, she could not help being excited as she set the milk down and carefully opened the envelope. She pulled it out, stared at it, and then screamed, “Wes! Wes!”

  Wes came running in, alarm in his eyes. “What’s wrong, sis?”

  “It’s an acceptance from National Geographic! I’m going to do a special story for them that will take several months at least. It’s my door into a new writing career!”

  Wes let out a loud yell, and the two embraced. He lifted her off her feet and danced around. She was laughing and almost crying, and finally she protested, “You’re squeezing the life out of me! Put me down!”

  “Sis, that’s wonderful! That’s just great!”

  “Greater than you know, Wes.” Emily put her hand on her chest and said, “We’re, both of us, going to do this together.”

  Wes stared at her. “You mean I get to take pictures?”

  “Yes, and I’ll do the writing. It’s going to be wonderful! Don’t say anything to the folks. After supper I’ll make the announcement.”

  “You won’t have to announce much,” Wes said. “When they look at you, and me, too, I guess, they’ll know something’s happened. Something good? No! Something great!”

  ****

  “That was a fine supper, daughter. I don’t think your mother could have done much better.” Aaron winked at Emily, then reached over and squeezed Gail’s hand. “You’d better stand to your laurels, sweetheart. That daughter of yours is a powerful good cook.”

  Emily had put the letter from National Geographic in her pocket. She pulled it out now and said, “I have an announcement to make.”

  “It sounds serious,” Gail smiled.

  “I can see it’s not bad news because your eyes are sparkling. What is it?” Aaron said.

  “I sent off a proposal to National Geographic a long time ago. I’d just about forgotten about it, but I got the answer today. They’ve commissioned me to do the story and Wes to take the pictures.”

  There was rejoicing at the Winslow table, and finally Emily said, “Here’s what it is. Geographic will accept a story done on a primitive tribe in the Amazon River basin.”


  Both her parents stared at her, and it was Gail who exclaimed, “You’ll have to go to South America?”

  “Yes, of course, and Wes, too. We’ll live as close as we can to a tribe there—the most primitive one I could find. It’s a tribe called the Guapi that have had almost no contact with civilization. That’s where we’re going, Wes and I.”

  The questions flowed quickly from both parents as they tried to understand what all this would involve. Finally Aaron leaned back and said, “So, if I have it right, you have to pay your own expenses, and it’s possible they may not accept the story after it’s finished.”

  “That’s right, Dad, and it will cost money that I don’t have. And it’s possible I may fail. You know how high the standards are for that magazine. But here’s my plan. If I can write this article for National Geographic, Wes and I can gather enough material while we’re there to make a book out of it. And I just know that someone will print it.”

  Gail held her breath then, and Wes was silent. They knew that it would cost a great deal of money, and although Emily had not asked, she was hoping her father would volunteer to finance the expedition.

  Aaron was smiling and finally said, “I’m as proud as punch of you, both of you. I’ll gladly foot the bill. You can pay me back when you get paid. If you can’t, it’ll be a great experience for you. I don’t think you’ll fail.”

  Emily jumped up from her seat, ran around, and grabbed Aaron, falling into his lap with her arms around his neck. “Oh, Dad, thank you so much!”

  “Here, here, don’t strangle me!” Aaron protested.

  He had no chance to say more, for Wes had come over and was beating him on the back, crying out, “Thanks, Dad. You’ll be proud of us.”

  The rest of the evening was a time of excitement and planning. Everyone had to look at the globe and maps that Emily had collected of South America. Finally Gail looked at the clock and declared, “It’s bedtime. Everybody to bed!”

  Emily kissed her parents, struck Wes on the shoulder, and dodged as he made a grab at her. “Tomorrow we start the real work. It’ll take a lot of doing!”

  ****

  Emily’s word proved to be prophetic. It did indeed take “a lot of doing” to plan such an expedition. The planning involved months of gathering equipment, making contacts with a missionary couple the Winslows knew through their church who worked in this area, applying for passports and visas, and getting shots for every imaginable disease, so that Wes had cried out, “If I have to take one more needle, I think I’ll die.” But the two of them had thrown themselves into this new adventure with all the energy of youth.

  Finally on June the thirtieth the two stood at the dock in New York saying good-bye to their parents. The Columbia waited, and passengers were going aboard. Now that the moment to leave had come, Emily felt a sudden gust of fear, but she quickly brushed it aside and embraced her mother. She felt her mother clinging to her and whispered, “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be fine.”

  She moved over to Aaron, who put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be praying for you every day, daughter.”

  “I know you will, Dad.”

  Wes said his good-byes to his parents, and then the shrill blast of the Columbia’s whistle rent the air.

  “You two had better get on board,” Aaron said. “You won’t be able to mail letters much, but if the chance comes, we want to hear from you.”

  Aaron and Gail stood there watching as the two walked up the gangplank. Aaron put his arm around her, and they waited for the ship to move out. The rail was lined with travelers, and as the ship began to slowly pull away from the pier, Gail said, “It’s dangerous. I’m really afraid for them.”

  “It’s hard to let them go, honey, but we prayed, and it’s time to trust God for their lives.” He squeezed her and said, “I feel like an old mother bird letting her fledglings out of the nest. I don’t know if they have strong enough wings to fly on such a treacherous journey, but God will guide and protect them.”

  The two parents stood there as the Columbia was pulled into position by the tugs. They waved toward their children and watched until the ship slowly wheeled about and left the harbor. Finally Aaron said quietly, “Well, there they go. They’re in God’s hands now.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Dark Side of Brazil

  The Columbia had nosed its way into a quay and lowered a gangplank. Emily and Wes were alive with excitement as they scurried around getting ready to leave the ship. They had enjoyed their trip but were anxious to get to work. Their greatest concern was getting their luggage and equipment ashore, but they discovered quickly that South Americans are far less eager to keep their eye on the clock than Americans.

  “Everyone seems to move in slow motion,” Wes complained. He had been scurrying around collecting their luggage, but now as he gazed at the porters, he measured their pace and shook his head. “They act like they’re half asleep.”

  “Well, the guide books all say that people from countries like this are not as time conscious as we are,” Emily said. “We’ll just have to be patient.”

  By the time they had gotten ashore, their patience was already fairly well tried. The ship had arrived early in the morning, and now the two needed to find transportation to the river town of Santarém, where they would find the missionary couple they had contacted. The Pettigrews did not know many of the details of their project, but they were very willing to help the young Americans however they could.

  Emily and Wes discovered that a riverboat made the trip, following the tortured meanderings of the Amazon, but there seemed to be no schedule. They also encountered the language barrier, for neither of them had mastered enough Portuguese to be of service. Finally at a booking office they discovered that a ship might leave the next day headed for Santarém, but the olive-skinned manager smiled and put his hands out in a helpless gesture. “Who can say?” he said in very poor English. “Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Come and see.”

  “We’ll have to find someplace to stay,” Wes said grimly. “Come on. There’s bound to be a hotel.”

  But Belém, they discovered, was not overrun with hotels. It was the capital of Pará on the south bank of the Rio do Pará. Emily had read up on the place and discovered that the Portuguese had settled here in 1616, and it had been used as a gateway to the interior. It was the major trade center of the Amazon Valley. Most of the structures were low squat buildings, many of them built of blocks, and there was a squalid air about the entire city.

  The two stored most of their luggage and equipment at the shipping office and then set out to find a place to stay for the night. The sound of the Portuguese tongue, soft and rather sibilant, was strange to their ears. They passed through an open meat market, and the stench almost caused Emily to turn back. “I never smelled anything like this. It’s terrible!” she exclaimed.

  Wes examined the carcasses of sheep, cattle, and birds, all of them covered with flies, and shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to eat anything bought here.”

  “We may have to,” Emily said. “We can’t eat out of cans the whole time we’re here.”

  Eventually the two found what passed for a hotel. They got two rooms and found that there was one bathroom for the whole floor, which they had to share with other lodgers. When Emily stepped inside her room, fatigued and ready for bed, she looked askance at the mattress. She could not see any bugs, but it was dirty, and the only covering was a single blanket. She undressed, lay down, and waited for morning, thinking, I’ll be glad to get out of this place. It can’t be much more difficult living in a tent in the jungle. At least it’ll be cleaner.

  ****

  The small boat powered by a chugging steam engine pushed its way through the muddy waters. Fortunately the pair had found the boat waiting for them the next morning. They had paid the owner to wait until they got their luggage and equipment aboard, and now they were standing in the prow taking in the sights.

  “I can’t be
lieve the size of this river!” Wes exclaimed. “Look, you can’t even see to the other side of it!”

  A small man with a bronze face and wearing a white linen suit and a broad-brimmed white straw hat had heard what Wes said. “Your first time on the river?” he said with a distinct accent.

  “Yes, it is,” Wes said. “It’s huge, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed. As a matter of fact, it’s the second-longest river in the world. The first is the Nile, of course, but the Amazon is king here. Some people call it Rio Mar, which means the ‘river sea.’ ”

  “Have you lived here a long time?” Wes asked the man.

  “Yes, I was born upriver here. Where are you headed?”

  “We’re going to do a story for National Geographic on one of the native tribes.”

  “Which tribe is that, may I ask?”

  “The Guapi.”

  A cloud passed over the man’s face, and when he did not speak, Emily said, “What’s wrong? We don’t know much about this tribe.”

  “They are very isolated. I don’t know if any white people have ever gone that far inland. You might be wise to choose another tribe more civilized.”

  Emily shook her head. “No, the story was sold to National Geographic on the basis of a tribe that was still living in the old ways.”

  “Well,” the man smiled briefly, showing discolored teeth, “you’ll find that all right. Just be careful they don’t eat you.”

  Emily stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

  “It’s not unknown for these people. Not just the Guapi, but others. Plenty of them are headhunters, and cannibalism was common in the old days. I don’t know about the Guapi. I would just say you’ve taken on quite a task.”

  Their fellow traveler’s words did not discourage either Emily or Wes. They enjoyed the trip up the river. The brown waters of the Amazon stretched out to infinity, it seemed. When they got close to the shore, they both delighted in the wildlife. Crocodiles were common enough, and once Emily said, “Look—there’s a jaguar!”