CHAPTER XXIV.
ON THE LONESOME LLANOS.
The vast and lonesome uplands, called Llanos, on which our heroes now found themselves, are the pampas of the far southern districts of South America.
There is a weirdness about them, especially in the silence of the night, that strikes one with awe. But sometimes, indeed, day is more silent than night, for then the stillness is unbroken by howl of wild beasts or scream of birds of prey. So quiet is it then on some portions of the Llanos, that you can hear the sound of the human voice in ordinary conversation full two hundred yards away, while if you wander long here, so great is the strain on one's nerves that the slightest sound will make one start—a tiny snake rustling among the grass, a breaking reed, or lizard nibbling at a stalk of couch.
Humboldt, the great traveller, is not, I fear, much read nowadays, but he speaks about these solitary regions as follows:—
"Here in the Llanos, all around us, the plains seemed to rise to heaven; and this vast and silent desert appeared to our eyes like a sea that is covered with sea-weed, or the algae of the deep ocean. According to the inequality of the vapour floating on the atmosphere, and the alternate temperature of the breezes contending against each other, was the appearance of the horizon; in some places clearly and sharply defined, in others wavy, crooked, and, as it were, striped.
"The earth there seemed to mingle with heaven. Through the dry mist we sometimes perceived palm-trees in the distance. Stripped of their leaves and green feathery summits, these stems, rising out of the low-lying fog, resembled the masts of ships, which one descries on the horizon at sea."
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Miguel's little party was accompanied by donkeys; some of these had panniers, on which the luggage or baggage was carried, as well as the general commissariat. But while two of Miguel's sailors trotted on foot, he himself with Creggan and his friends bestrode strong and agile donkeys.
As guides, they had two hardy Llaneros or plainsmen. These fellows are wilder far than your Mexican cow-boy,—who, by the way, is just as often as not a braggart and a coward. But your true Llanero, with his brown skin, his tattered clothes and cow-hide boots, and the ever-ready lasso across his chest, a knife or pistol in his belt, is as daring as a puma or panther itself. He knows no fear, and takes no hurt wherever he sleeps, or however hard his toil and poor his fare.
No need for a traveller to fear these men. Treat them fairly and squarely, and they will do their duty, ay, and fight to grim death for the man they have undertaken to watch and guide.
Our brave youngsters were marching southwards and west, and would so march for days, until, after crossing many a creek and cañon, and many a river that goes roaring, brown and awful, through gorges among the hills and woods, they should strike the River Tigre itself.
One of the rivers they crossed is wildly beautiful—the Mapiriti. They spent two nights and days near to its green banks, and in a bonny wooded and bosky glen. But they had shooting and fishing also.
Night alone was dreary—and dangerous too. To protect the donkeys from the attacks of wild beasts, they had to cut down branches and throw up a kind of laager, for after supper was cooked and eaten, and the fires burning low warned them that it was time to sleep, the cries and roaring of beasts of prey began, and the brutes came all too close to camp to be agreeable. But the sentries—two there were—had orders to fire if they heard but a bush stirring. The quick sharp ring of the rifles generally ensured peace for a time.
Miguel slept on some bundles of grass, with a pillow of the same material. Nor wild beasts, snakes, nor mosquitoes ever seemed to annoy him.
But the Ugly Duckling and Creggan had each a hammock, hung gipsy-fashion from crossed sticks a few feet above the ground.
After Creggan had said his prayers and lain down, he used to promise himself that he would lie awake for some time and think of his far-off Highland home. But he never succeeded in doing so with any degree of satisfaction. The fatigue of travel, the pure, fresh, and bracing air, to say nothing of a good supper, all tended to induce slumber, and soon indeed was he in the land of forgetfulness, seldom opening his eyes till breakfast was steaming and simmering over the fire.
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I must draw in my horns, as the snail said to the blackbird; for it was not my intention to give an elaborate account of this great land of Llanos, of broad bright rivers studded with islands like emerald gems, of cayman-haunted creeks, of green savannahs, of waving palms, of deep dark forests surrounding many a lonesome gloomy leaden lake, and of mountains towering to the moon. No; see Venezuela for yourselves, boys. If you do, you can say afterwards that you have lived, should you never visit any other foreign land save itself.
Suffice it to say that, laden with the spoils of the chase, the Queen one beautiful forenoon brought our heroes safely back to the mouth of the great river Orinoco, and that their arrival was a scene of rejoicing.
Poor Admiral Jacko was worn and thin, for sadly had he missed his Ugly Duckling, and now sprang into his arms with a fond and plaintive cry, and in his own strange language told him a weary, weary tale.
It was delightful to get home again to the ship after all, and that night, after they had dined with the captain, Miguel being also a guest, our wanderers slept more soundly than they had done for many and many a day.