Garth’s eyes narrowed. “I said in a minute, Honoria.”
“Well!” Without giving Letty so much as a friendly nod, she stalked away.
Letty looked after her. “Apparently your dear friend doesn’t care to acknowledge my existence.”
“She’s not my dear friend.” He looked as if he’d like to say more but decided not to. He touched his fingers to his broad-brimmed hat. “I wish you well on your journey, Miss Tinsley. Watch for the snakes and crocodiles, and get out of Chagres as soon as you can. The filthy place is full of disease and God knows what. It’s death to stay here.” He turned and walked away.
Since they landed, Elfreda had maintained her usual pursed-lip expression of disapproval and hadn’t said a word. Staring after Garth, she finally spoke up. “He knows what he’s talking about, Miss Letty. Maybe you ought—”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“He likes you,” she muttered.
What a strange thing for Elfreda to say. How did she know that? Letty would like to ask, but right now had more important matters to consider. She spoke with Ramiro, who seemed honest enough and at least wasn’t yelling in her face. For thirty dollars each, he would take them upriver to the town of Gorgona. The trip would take three days. When she inquired about hotel accommodations along the way, Ramiro suppressed a grin and didn’t reply. Gorgona was as far as he would go. From there, she must arrange for transportation for the last thirty miles to Panama City. They could walk or hire horses or mules. Oh, Lord, she didn’t even want to think about that part yet. She paid for their passage, and the deal was done. “Let’s get out of here, Elfreda. We’ve got to walk through town to the dock on the Chagres River. The sooner we get there, the better.”
They left the pier. As they walked along the waterfront, they both drew their skirts tight around themselves and stepped carefully. What a horrible place. Letty wished she could stop breathing, the air was so full of the stench of sweating dock workers, fish, excrement, and nameless, rotting debris bobbing about in the water. Even without the stench, the air hung over them like a sodden blanket. On the way through town, while they were hauling their baggage, intent on not stepping into something vile, Elfreda spoke again. “Why didn’t you want to go on the flat boat? Seems to me we’d be better off than a dugout canoe.”
“I’m sure we would be, but that’s not the point. I do not want to be beholden to Mr. Morgan.”
“Why not?”
“I have reason to believe Garth Morgan might have something to do with Charles’s gold shipment that strangely disappeared. I don’t trust the man.”
They walked on. For a time, Elfreda muttered under her breath but otherwise remained silent, leaving Letty to assume she’d accepted her answer and understood. But her maid’s silence didn’t last. “I like Mr. Morgan. So do you.”
Letty stopped in her tracks. “Didn’t I just say I don’t trust him? Why would you say that?”
“Because you start preening yourself whenever he gets close.”
Letty opened her mouth to object, but Elfreda wasn’t finished. “You pat your hair. You flutter your eyelashes and stick out your chest. You like him. Don’t tell me otherwise.”
Words failed her. She couldn’t think of a proper reply to such nonsense. They started walking again. Finally she managed, “You’re totally wrong, Elfreda. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll see Mr. Morgan again, and that’s fine with me.”
“Sure, Miss Letty.”
She could hardly miss the scornful note of skepticism in her servant’s voice but made no reply. No sense arguing, especially since there might be a slight grain of truth in Elfreda’s remark, but she couldn’t think of that right now.
When they arrived at the dock on the Chagres River, she found several women from steerage, including Betsey, with her employers and Bridget, now reunited with her husband. How nice they’d be taking the same canoe, and she wouldn’t be alone. Even so, anxiety welled within her, just thinking of this hellish Isthmus she had to cross with its snakes, crocodiles, natives who wanted to drown her, deadly diseases, and God knew what. No indeed, she had no time to devote to the puzzling Mr. Garth Morgan.
Chapter 8
While waiting on the dock by the river, Betsey suddenly gasped. “Lord have mercy. Do you see what I see?” She pointed toward a long canoe that appeared to be hollowed out of an enormous tree trunk.
Letty looked toward the canoe. Natives swarmed around, some with poles, others with paddles. They didn’t appear to be wearing much. In fact… Oh no! Their dark-skinned bodies glistened with sweat—their completely naked dark-skinned bodies, not even a loincloth.
“Good grief.” She put her hand to her mouth and couldn’t stop staring.
Behind her, Elfreda emitted a rare chuckle. “At least they’ve got their hats on.”
Letty turned to her maid. “That’s not funny.”
Elfreda’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “It’s not? This is what you chose, Miss Letty. Now you know for sure you’re not in Boston anymore.”
Despite her shock, Elfreda’s words struck her so funny she burst into laughter. “No, we’re not, but we’ll get through this, I promise you.”
Letty had never seen anything like this sudden change in scenery. Two hours away from the filth and chaos of Chagres, perched on her luggage, she was floating through a tropical paradise. The music of the birds and the chattering of monkeys filled the air as the dugout canoe slowly glided upriver with its twenty passengers and four native boatmen. Along the banks, amidst thick, verdant foliage, glorious water lilies bloomed along with hibiscus, bougainvillea, and flowers she’d never seen before. Brightly colored parrots and macaws, every color of the rainbow, squawked as they sat on branches. Monkeys swung through the trees. Blue and white herons searched for fish in the shallow water. Here and there, a crocodile sunned itself on a log, too lazy to move unless something got too close.
Betsey, who sat directly in front of Letty, clasped her hands together. “You won’t find this is Ireland. This is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
Letty agreed, and turned to Elfreda, who sat behind her. “Isn’t this lovely? It’s like a tropical garden.”
Her scowling servant sat with her arms crossed tight. “Tropical garden my foot. Just wait ’til one of those crocodiles gets you in its jaws.”
Just like Elfreda to be negative. Letty paid no attention, but as the day wore on, her joy at the beauty of the river began to fade. Bad enough the naked boatmen hadn’t the least bit of modesty and made no effort to cover themselves. They’d become noisy and quarrelsome, hollering what must be curses while they rowed upstream. Sometimes they had to trade their paddles for poles, push and grunt with all their might. Frequently the boat caught on a sunken tree, sandbar, or some other obstruction. That meant they had to leap overboard to unsnag it, each time causing a spray of water to soak the passengers, who, by then, sat miserably on their luggage and had no way to protect themselves. Soon getting splashed didn’t matter because a heavy rainstorm struck. Although the downpour didn’t last long, it soaked everyone thoroughly and left at least an inch of mucky-looking water swilling around in the bottom of the boat. The air grew muggier, the heat more oppressive. Letty could hardly drink the water Ramiro passed around in a gourd, it was so warm and had a funny taste.
Betsey took a swallow and spit it out, crying, “What I wouldn’t give for a cool glass of Boston water!”
At the end of the day, they pulled to a long dock beside a clear spot carved out of the jungle. There wasn’t much there, just a few straggly rows of open-fronted huts with palm frond roofs. That didn’t matter, though. Letty was so relieved to get out of the cramped canoe, she didn’t care how bad the first night’s accommodations would be. She soon changed her mind. When she and Elfreda were shown to one of the huts, she discovered the “accommodations” consisted of two straw pallets for sleeping and nothing else.
It got
worse. For dinner they had to sit in a circle, on the ground, of course, surrounded by a menagerie of grunting pigs, chickens, dogs, cats, and ducks. No tables or chairs. No knives, forks or spoons, just wooden sticks to eat with. When a native in a loincloth served them a strange looking substance in a large pot, Letty asked, “What is that?”
“Baked monkey, or you can have baked iguana.” The native, whose name was Oigme, was smiling, but it was a spiteful kind of smile, as if he knew what her reaction would be.
She tried not to screw up her face. “No, thank you, the monkey will be fine.” Oh my God. She sat back in horror. This was too much. Oh, to be home, sitting at her own dining table with its fine linen, gleaming crystal, Grandmother Tinsley’s priceless Haviland china! How particular she’d been that the knife blades must be placed with the cutting edge toward the plate, that the fish fork be placed directly to the left of the dinner fork. Now here she sat in the middle of the jungle having baked monkey for dinner and a stick to eat with. She took another look at the horrible mess in the pot. Famished though she was, she didn’t know how she could ever choke it down.
Hers wasn’t the only circle of diners. Other boats had tied to the dock, and other diners formed circles nearby. She spied Betsey in one of the circles when her employer, Colonel Connors loudly complained, “We can’t eat this swill. Bring us something else!”
The native server gave him a big smile, shrugged and walked away.
Next to Letty, Elfreda dipped her stick into the pot and took a taste. “It’s not so bad. At least try.” She leveled a meaningful gaze at Letty. “If you don’t eat this, you’re gonna starve.”
Others were cautiously digging their sticks into the pot. Good for them, but how could she eat something that looked and smelled so horrible? Her empty stomach sent up a gnawing hungry pain, reminding her she could either eat or die of starvation, she had no other choice. She squared her shoulders. “All right, Elfreda, I’ll eat it, but I don’t have to like it.” Along with the others, she dipped her stick in the pot and took a bite. Not too terrible. Maybe she could keep the mess down if she could forget what it was.
She had taken more bites and was just about full when a woman in their circle screamed and pointed at a tree. “Look, a spider. Lord have mercy, look at the size of it.”
Crawling down the tree trunk came a hairy-legged gray spider the size of a dinner plate. Women screamed. Men recoiled. Elfreda, still sitting, pushed with her feet in a panic and hastily backed away. “Do you see that, Miss Letty?”
Letty barely managed a casual shrug. Working in the museum, she’d long since gotten past her silly fears of nature’s creatures, although the ones she’d seen before were in books or safely dead and impaled on a display board, not climbing down a nearby tree. “I wouldn’t worry. It’s a tarantula, the biggest of its species called Goliath. I won’t say it’s harmless, but if you stay away from it, it’ll stay away from you.” Not easy, maintaining a nonchalant attitude. As they watched, the hideous-looking spider scurried up the trunk and disappeared amidst the thick vines and foliage. “See? The Goliath is gone, and it won’t come back.”
Stark fear glittered in Elfreda’s eyes. “I don’t like this place. I don’t want to be here.” She made a wild gesture toward the jungle. “How am I going to sleep when I know one of those creatures is going to crawl over me and bite me?”
“We’ll be safe, Elfreda. The bugs and spiders are afraid of us. They won’t come in the huts.”
Her maid’s eyes filled with skepticism. “How can you know that?”
“I just know. You’ll have to trust me.”
“I wouldn’t trust you far as I’d throw that dugout canoe.”
Letty had no answer. Who knew what would crawl over her pallet tonight or drop from the thatched roof? Elfreda wasn’t the only one worried about losing sleep. A thought struck her. Was Garth Morgan’s boat docked here, too? She looked around at the different circles of diners. Sure enough, he was there in the farthest circle with Mathew on one side and that awful Honoria on the other. Not that she cared. Not at all.
* * * *
Sitting on the ground with his fellow flatboat passengers, Garth wished he could block his ears. This was the third time he’d crossed the Isthmus, and it didn’t get any better. In fact, this crossing was the worst, what with Honoria’s constant whining and complaints. Nothing pleased her. According to her, conditions on the boat were deplorable, never mind they were cruising along a stretch of river with the most beautiful scenery in the world. According to her, the heathen natives did not deserve to live on this earth. How dare they flaunt their naked selves in her refined and horrified presence? She’d been mouthing her grievances all day. He’d hoped her mood would improve when the flatboat stopped for the night but no such luck. Now here she sat at dinner, peevish as ever, casting a hostile glance at her maid who sat next to her, and declaring, “I’m not accustomed to eating with servants. They should be put at a separate table.”
“There are no tables, Honoria. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re sitting on the ground.”
Naturally, she didn’t think his remark was funny. Her fancy hat askew, bottom of her skirt all water-stained, she got her bedraggled self to her feet, looking a far cry from the haughty, fastidious matron from Boston. “I’ve had enough.”
“What do you mean?”
If looks were daggers, he’d be dead. “You never told me the Isthmus would be like this.”
“You’re the one who insisted on coming. I said you wouldn’t like crossing through a jungle. But try to look on the bright side. This is an adventure, something you can tell your grandchildren about some day.”
His response served only to fuel her anger. Scowling, she announced, “I’m going to bed now. I can only hope I won’t be bitten by a poisonous snake or carried off by a crocodile. Come along, Mary.”
As she stalked away, dutifully followed by her maid, Mathew let out a low whistle. “She didn’t eat much dinner. Do you think she’ll be back? Should I go after her?”
Poor Mathew, always so kind and patient. “Let her go. She’ll be back when she gets hungry enough.”
After a pause, Mathew asked, “Would you mind telling me something?”
“Of course.” He’d be happy to oblige. His easy-going employee hardly ever asked questions.
“Why did you agree to escort Mrs. Leffington to California? Didn’t you know what…what…?”
“What a pain in the butt she is? Yes, I knew, Mathew. She’s a childhood friend. Known her all my life. You have to understand what makes Honoria Leffington the way she is. Simple. Her parents are at fault. She’s an only child, and they spoiled her rotten. Now that she’s grown, she’s a victim of her own vanity and assumes she’s a cut above the rest of us. Therefore, we must all do her bidding, and if she’s displeased, she has the right to complain.”
Matthew sighed. “Your patience is exemplary. Needless to say, I shall look forward to the day when we arrive in San Francisco and her husband takes her off your hands.” He took a bite of his dinner and looked around the campground. “Say, isn’t that Miss Tinsley over there?”
She’s here? Garth looked to where Mathew had nodded. Sure enough, there she sat, her servant beside her. Good Lord, what had gotten into him? Why had his heart jumped at the sound of her name? “You’re right.” He came up with a casual chuckle. “I see the young lady has survived her first day on the river.”
Mathew was still staring at her. “Shall we go pay our respects?”
“You go if you like. I doubt Miss Tinsley would be that happy to see me.”
“Why not? From what I’ve seen, you’ve been most kind to her.”
So far, he hadn’t told his employee or anyone else about his disagreement with Charles’s sister, but now seemed a good time. “Miss Tinsley has accused me of evil intent. She suspects I stole her brother’s gold shipment.”
“What?” Mathew looked thunderstruck. “But that’s no
t so. How could she think such a thing?”
“I don’t know, but what do I care? I have more important matters on my mind than what some naïve young lady accuses me of.”
“I should think so,” came his loyal employee’s indignant reply.
Only for some obscure reason, her opinion of him did matter. He couldn’t keep his attention off her. After what must have been a difficult day, she seemed to have survived nicely as she was pleasantly chatting with fellow diners and dipping her stick into the abominable mess with the rest. With an effort, he looked away. This wasn’t like him. How could he be developing an attraction for a young lady who didn’t like him? Ridiculous and stupid. He would stop thinking about her. He hoped she’d be careful tonight. They’d be sleeping only yards away from an untamed jungle. The crocodiles should all be asleep, but there could be lots of surprises in the middle of the night. She’d better be careful.
* * * *
Letty went to bed as soon as they finished dinner. So did Elfreda and everyone else from the boat. After a day like today, they were all exhausted. Besides, lanterns were scarce, and when darkness fell, there was nothing to do but retire to their huts and go to sleep. Like nearly everyone, Letty slept in her clothes. She wasn’t sure why, except she wanted to be ready to run in case some unknown creature came out of the jungle and attacked her. Now, as she lay on her pallet sheltered only by layers of pond fronds above, Ramiro’s parting words for the night kept coming back. “Watch for snakes, spiders and scorpions. Sometimes they drop down on you from above.” He’d spoken with a cheerful smile on his face, as if he had no idea he was ruining everyone’s sleep. He was certainly ruining hers.
For a long time, she lay with her arms crossed tight, knees drawn up, listening to the sounds of monkeys howling, nighthawks singing, the piercing cries of unknown animals. She must have finally fallen asleep because when a scream cut through the sounds of the jungle, for a moment, she had no idea where the frightening sound was coming from. Then she realized the screaming came from Elfreda.
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