Afloat in the Forest; Or, A Voyage among the Tree-Tops

by Mayne Reid

  After the many perils through which they had passed, and under theapprehension of the many more through which they might yet have to pass,Tom's mismanagement,--the original cause of all their misfortunes,--ifnot forgotten, was not remembered against him with resentment. It hadbeen only an error of judgment,--a fault of the head, and not of theheart.

  Even the negro, whose race appears, almost by instinct, to inherit anantipathy to the countrymen of Tom, and who, previous to thecatastrophe, was not always on the best of terms with the Irishman, nolonger showed signs of spite: rather had the two become friends. Theirfriendship sprung from the ties of a common misfortune, and any littledifference that now displayed itself was in a rivalry as to which shouldmake himself most useful to the floating community.

  On this particular night they sat together as white and black brothers;Mozey attending to the sipo that served for a sheet to the sail, and Tomsteering the craft by a star that had been pointed out to him as thattowards which he was to keep her head.

  Both African and Irishman were not a little vain of being thus left tothemselves. Up to that time both had been playing a very subordinatepart; the Indian taking upon himself almost the sole management ofaffairs, and treating them as nobodies. From the night on which theyhad made their unfortunate mistake by straying into the Gapo, everymovement had been made by his counsel and direction: moreover, both hadsuffered humiliation by his having saved their lives from drowning.Although they were not ungrateful for that, they were neverthelesschagrined to think that they should be so looked upon.

  On this night, Munday, worn out by his long-continued exertions, wasurged by Trevannion to desist, and recruit his energies by good repose.As there was no particular reason why he should remain awake, he hadconsented to do so; and, with his back against one of the buttresses, hereposed, silent as the Sphinx.

  Neither the man of Mozambique, nor he of Tipperary, was given to habitsof silence; and they continued to converse long after the others hadsunk into slumber. After what had that day occurred, it was naturalthat the theme should be _snakes_. "Yez have got some in yourcounthry,--haven't yer, Mozey?" inquired Tom.

  "Dar you'se 'bout right, Masser Tum. Haven't we got um! Snakes ob debiggest kind."

  "But none so big as the wun we saw the day?"

  "Buf! you call dat a big snake. He not more den ten yard long. I'vehab some on de coass of Africa, down dere by Mozabeek, dat measure moreden a mile,--ticker round de body den dis ere log we sittin' on."

  "More than a mile long!" rejoined Tipperary. "And thicker than thistree! Yez don't mane to say ye iver saw wan ov that size yerself?"

  "Well, I's not say it war a whole mile. It mout be less, an' it mout abeen more dan a mile. Ob one ting I's sartin shoo: it wa'n't less denthree quarters ob a mile. Youz may b'lieve um or not; jess as youpleeze 'bout dat, Massa Tipprary. All I'b got to say is, dat de snake I'peak 'bout war long nuf to go clar roun' de kraal, and twice roun'too."

  "A kraal! what moight that be? I know what a _kreel_ is. Miny's thewan I've carried on me back, full ov turf at that, in the bogs ofTipperary. Yez don't mane a kreel, div ye?"

  "Kreel! no. I'm 'peakin' 'bout de place we niggers live in,--village,you white folk call 'um."

  "A village! that is a town av people,--men, weemen, and childher."

  "Jess so. Da be men, woman, and chillen in de kraal,--sartin to beplenty of boaf de last,--an' dar am dogs, and sheeps, and goats, andsometime big cattle. Dat's zactly what we brack folks ob de Africancoass call de kraal. Some am bigger dan oders; but de one I 'peak'bout, dat war surrounded by de snake, war a kraal ob de mod'rate size.It had 'bout a hundred houses, and, ob coorse, it contain zackly hundredfamilies, excludin' de piccaninnies."

  "A snake to extind round a hundherd houses! Whin was that?"

  "When dis chile was a piccaninny hisself. If you like, Massa Tipprary,I tell you all 'bout it. Ye see, dat de kraal I 'peak 'bout war mynative place, wha dis chile fust saw de shinin' ob de sun. I 'pose Iwar 'bout ten year ole jess at dat time when de sacumstance 'curred obwhich I go tell you. Near de village dar war a big foress. It wa'filled with all sorts ob dangerous beasts. Da wa' buffaloes andelephants, an' de rhinoceros, an' hipperpotamusses, an' dar war bigmonkeys ob de baboon 'pecies. These lass war partickler dangerous,'pecially to de women ob de place, for if any ob de nigga gals strayedtoo fur into de foress, den de baboons carried dem up into de tops ob dehighest trees, an' dere kep' dem prisoner fo' eber. But de wussest tingin dat wood war de snakes. Da war ob all sorts an' sizes. Dere war decobera, berry benemous, dat killed you wif him bite, an' de spit snakedat fo' pizen beat de cobera all holler, as it kud kill ye by jessspittin' upon yer from among de branches ob a tree. An' da war dewhip-snake, dat lashed folks to deaph wif him tail; an' de rock-boa dattwisted itself roun' you body an' crushed you to de jelly. But none obdese kud hold a candle to de great big snake ob all,--de one I tell you'bout. Munday, he call dat we see, de spirit ob de waters. Our bigsnake we nigga of Mozabeek call de _debbil ob de woods_. Nebba mind'bout de name. He come one fine mornin', dis debbil come, while depeople ob de kraal war all 'sleep, dat is 'fore anybody get up to go'bout dar bisness. He surroun' the village _twice_."

  "You mane that he crawled twice round it?"

  "Not a bit ob dat;--he may hab crawled twenty time roun' it: nobodyknow. De people all 'sleep when he come. What dis chile mean is, datwhen de people get out ob dar beads, an' come to de door, de debbil obde woods, he hab him body all roun' de place in two great coil, one ontop ob de odder, like de cable 'board ship,--de two makin' a fence roun'do kraal, more'n ten feet high."

  "Saint Pathrick prasarve us!"

  "Ah, Masser Tom, I tink I hear you say dat de San Parfick you 'peak'bout was a great snake-killer in yur country. I wish he had been in deisland of Mozabeek on dat same mornin'. Pahps dis nigger might stillhab a fadder an' a modder. He loss dem boaf on de occasion we now 'peakob. You see de snake, after enclosin' de kraal twice roun' wif himbody, left enuf ob de neck to reach all ober de place; den stretchin'out him mouf, dat war wide nuf to swaller a man 'ithout chewin' him, hewent from house to house, pickin' out de people, till der want one lef',neider man, woman, nor chile. He eat up de chief ob de kraal jess desame as de commonest scum ob de village. As fo' de piccaninnies, heswallow dem eight or ten at a time, jess de same as we see de ant-eaterdo wif de ants. Boaf de men an' de women an' de chillen try to 'scapeout ob de place. 'Twa'n't no manner ob use. When dey tried to climbober de body ob de snake, de ole debbil gub hisself a shake, an' downdey slipped from him sides, as if him skin had been coated from de slushcask. Ob course da wa' soon all destroyed."

  "But yerself, Mozey; how did yez manage to 'scape?"

  "Ah, how! dat wor de bess joke ob de whole. As I's been tellin' you, Iwar at de time only a piccaninny, 'bout ten years ob de age. I warconsidered 'bove de common for dat age, an' wa' employed in de house obde chief which war called de palace. Well, jess when I see dat greatbig mouf sarchin' from place to place an' swallerin' up ebberybody, Iknow it wan't no use to hide down dar among de houses. Now dar war abig pole dat stood righ' in front ob de palace, wif a flag floatin' onde top. When de odder folk war runnin' about ebbery wha else, I climbedup de pole, an' when I got to de top, I drawed de flag roun' me, so asto hide de whole ob my body. When dat 'ere debbil ob de woods hadfinished off wif de oder people, and cleared out de kraal complete, henebber thought 'bout lookin' up de pole, or 'spectin' whether tha wa'anybody wrop up in de flag at de top. Dis chile kep' up dar till he seede snake 'tretch out him long body, an' go back to de big foress. Den Islip down from de tree, an' make my way to de nearest place wha da warpeople. As boaf my fadder and modder had been eat up 'long wi' de ress,I atterwards left home an' tuk to de sea. Dat's why dis nigger habwandered all de way fom dat 'ere island ob Mozabeek. Buf! de snake wesee here, de spirit ob de water, a'n't no more to de debbil ob de woodsdan a tadpole am to de biggest alligator in all de waters ob de Amazum."

  CHAPTER
SEVENTY NINE.

  SAINT PATRICK'S PERFORMANCE.

  Notwithstanding the serious air with which Mozey told his veryimprobable story, Tom did not appear to give implicit credence to it.He evidently suspected that the rogue had been cheating him; and, afterseveral exclamations of wonder, but without betraying incredulity, hesat in silence, apparently cogitating some scheme for repaying him. Itwas not long before an opportunity offered, his companionunintentionally furnishing him with a cue.

  "I's hab heer, Massa Tum, dat dar am no snake in de country wha you comefrom. Dat 'ere de troof?"

  "Yis. Nayther snake nor toad in owld Oireland,--nayther could live fora single hour, if ye plants them thare. The green island wudn't containthim bekase they're condimned to die the moment they sit fut on thesod."

  "But what condemn dem?"

  "Saint Pathrick, to be shure. Trath, thare's a story about that. Maybe yez wud loike to be afther hearin' it, Mozey?"

  "Like um berry much, Massy Tum."

  "Will, thin, I'll till it to yer. It isn't such a wondherful story asyours; but it had a betther indin', as yer'll see when ye've heerd it.Instid av the snakes killin' all the people exciptin' wan, the riptilesgot killed thimsilves, all but wan,--that was the father of ivry sirpintin the world. He's livin' yit, an' must now be about five thousandyears uv age. So the praste sez.

  "A long toime ago, owld Oireland was very badly infisted wid thimcraythers. They wur so thick all over the swate island, that yez cudn'tsit your fut down widout triddin' on wan av their tails; an' to kape outav their way the people had to build a great scaffoldin' that extindedall over the counthry, and slape on the threes, just as we've been doin'over the gyapo.

  "Whiniver they wanted anythin' to ate, such as purtaties, an' the loike,they were compilled to git it up from the ground wid long forks; andwhin they wur in need to dhrink, they had to dip it up in buckets, as ifthey were drawin' it out av a well.

  "Av coorse this was moighty inconvanient, an' cudn't last long no how.The worst ov it was, that the snakes, instid ov gettin' thinned off,were ivery year growin' thicker, by razin ov their large families ovyoung wuns. Will, it got so bad at last that ther' wusn't a spot avgroun' bigger than the bunch ov your hand that warn't occupoyed by asnake, an' in some places they were two deep. The people up on theplatform that I towld yez about, they cursed an' swore, an' raged, an'raved, an' at last prayed to be delivered from the inimy."

  Here Tom paused to note the effect of his speech on his sable listener.

  "But dey war delibbered,--wur dey?"

  "Trath, wur they. If they hadn't, is it at all loikely that yer wud seeme here? Will, the people prayed. Not as your countrymen prays, to astick or a stone, or beloike to the sarpints themselves, that could dothem no benefit; but to a lady, that was able to protect them. We, inowld Oireland, call her the Virgin Mary. She was the mother av Him thatcame down from the siventh heaven to save us poor sinners. But what'sthe use of my tryin' to explain all that to an ignorant haythen, loikeyou?"

  "No use, Massa Tum, no use," rejoined the African, in a tone ofresignation.

  "Never moind, Mozey. The lady heerd their prayer, and that was an indto it."

  "She killed da snakes!"

  "Arrah now; did yez think the Virgin Mary--a raal lady as she was--ud beafther doin' such dhirty work as slaughter a whole island full ofvenomous sarpents? Not a bit av that same. It's true they weredesthroyed; but not by her own swate hands. She sinds a man to do thework for her. She sint Sant Pathrick."

  "O, I's heerd ye 'peak ob dat man, many's de time, Massa Tum. 'Twur himdat kill de serpents, wur it?"

  "Trath was it."

  "But how'd he do it? It muss hab take um a berry long time to destroyum all."

  "There ye are intirely asthray, nager. It only occupied him wan day,an' not all the day nayther, for he had done the work a thrifle ov ahour or so afther dinner-time."

  "Gollys! how'd he do all dat?"

  "Will! ye see, he invited all the snakes to a grand banquit. He hadsuch a charmin' way wid him that they wun an' all agreed to come. Theplace was on the top of a high mountain,--called the Hill of Howth,--farhoigher than any in the Andays we saw when crossin' thare. The faste hehad provided for them was a colliction of toads, includin' every wun ovthim that inhabited the island. The toads he had invited too; an' thestupid craythers, not suspictin' anythin', come willingly to the place.

  "Now yez must undherstand, nager, that the snakes are moighty fond oftoads, and frogs too; but Saint Pathrick had no ill-will against thefrogs, an' they wur exchused from comin'. As it was, the toads wur axedat an earlier hour than the snakes, an' got first to the top of thehill; an' while they were waitin' there to see what was to be done, thesarpints came glidin' up, and bein' tould that their dinner was spreadbefore them, they fell to, an' swallowed up every toad upon the hill,which was every wun there was in all Oireland."

  The narrator made a long pause, either to draw breath after such adeclamation, or to give time for his companion to indulge hisastonishment.

  "Gora!" exclaimed the latter, impatient for further explanation. "How'bout de snakes demselves? Surely dey didn't swallow one anodder?"

  "Trath! an' that's jest what they did do,--every mother's son of thim."

  "But dat 'ere doan' 'tan' to reezun, unless dey hab a fight one wif deodder? Splain yourself, Massa Tum."

  "Will, yez have guessed it exactly widout my sayin' a word. They _did_have a foight, that went all roun' through the whole crowd, like ashindy in Donnybrook fair. Yez would loike to hear how it begun. Will,I'll tell ye. There was two kinds av the riptile. Wan they called`Ribbon snakes,' an' the tother `Orange snakes,' by razon av theircolour, both in politics and religion. They had a king over both thatlived moighty foine at their expinse. But he couldn't manage to keepthim continted with payin' him taxes, unless by sittin' the wan agaynstthe tother. An' this he did to the full av his satisfacshin. Now thebad blood that was betwane thim showed itself at that great gatherin'worse than iver it had done afore. Thare wasn't toads enough to givethem all a full male; and by way of dissart they thought they'd turn toan' ate wun another. Av course that was just what Sant Pathrick wanted;for he wasn't plazed at their having two sorts of religion. So the ouldpraste hugged thim on in the quarrel, till it come to blows, an' indedin both kinds killin' an' atin' wun another till there was nothing liftav ayther exceptin' the tails."

  "Golly! what becomed of de tails?"

  "O, thim? The people jumped down from the scaffolds and gathered thimup into a hape, and thin made a great bonfire av thim, and aftherwardtspred the ashes over the groun'; and that's what makes ould Oireland thegreenest gim av the oshin."

  "But, Massa Tum, you hab say dat one ob de snakes 'scape from the genr'lcongregation?"

  "Trath did I say it. Wun did escape, an' 's livin' to make mischief inould Oireland to this very day."

  "Which one was he?"

  "Their king."

  "De king. How you call um, Massa Tipprary?"

  "The Divvel."

  CHAPTER EIGHTY.

  LIGHTS AHEAD.

  The expression of incredulity had now floated from the countenance ofthe Irishman to that of the African, who in turn suspected himselfimposed upon. The leer in Tom's eye plainly declared that he consideredhimself "quits" with his companion; and the two remained for somemoments without further exchange of speech. When the conversation wasresumed, it related to a theme altogether different. It was no longeron the subject of snakes, but stars.

  The pilot perceived that the one hitherto guiding him was going out ofsight,--not by sinking below the horizon, but because the sky wasbecoming overcast by thick clouds. In ten minutes more there was not astar visible; and, so far as direction went, the helm might as well havebeen abandoned. Tom, however, stuck to his paddle, for the purpose ofsteadying the craft; and the breeze, as before, carried them on in adirect course. In about an hour after, this gave token of forsakingthem; and, at a still later period,
the log lay becalmed upon the bosomof the lagoa.

  What, next? Should they awake the others and communicate the unpleasantintelligence? Tom was of opinion that they should, while the negrothought it would be of no use. "Better let dem lie 'till," argued he,"and hab a good night ress. Can do no good wake um up. De ole craffmuss lay to all de same, till dar come anodder whif ob de wind!"

  While they were disputing the points, or rather after they had donedisputing, and each held his tongue, a sound reached their ears that atonce attracted the attention of both. It was rather a chorus of sounds,not uttered at intervals, but continued all the time they werelistening. It bore some resemblance to a distant waterfall; but now andthen, mingling with the hoarser roaring of the torrent, were voices asof birds, beasts, and reptiles. None of them were very distinct. Theyappeared to come from some point at a great distance off. Still, theywere loud enough to be distinguished, as sounds that could not proceedout of the now tranquil bosom of the lagoa.

  Perhaps they might sooner have attracted the notice of the two men, butfor the sighing of the breeze against the sail, and the rippling of thewater as it rushed along the sides of the ceiba. When these sounds hadceased, the conversation that ensued produced the same effect; and itwas only after the dispute came to a close that the disputants were madeaware that something besides their own voices was disturbing thetranquillity of the night.

  "What is it, I wondher?" was the remark of Tipperary Tom. "Can yeztell, Mozey?"

  "It hab berry much de soun' ob a big forress!"

  "The sound av a forest? What div yez mane by that?"