On the night of the fifth day, we encamped at the mouth of the Tirolas, a considerable stream, which enters the Wanks from the north, and up which we, next morning, took our course. Our advance was now slow and laborious, owing to the rapidity of the current, and the numerous rocks and fallen trees which obstructed the channel. The river wound among hills, which increased in altitude as we penetrated farther inland, until I discovered that we were approaching the great mountain range, which traverses the country from south-west to north-east, constituting the “divide,” or water-shed, as I afterward found, between the valley of the Cape River and the streams which flow northward into the Bay of Honduras. Hour by hour we came nearer to this great barrier, which presented to us a steep and apparently inaccessible front. I was rather appalled when my Poyer told me that the village of his people lay beyond this range, over which we would be obliged to climb in order to reach it. However, there was now no alternative left but to go ahead, so I gave myself no further concern, although I could not help wondering how we were to clamber up the dizzy steeps which appeared more and more abrupt as we approached them.
It was on the second evening after leaving the great river, that we reached the head of canoe navigation on the Tirolas, at a point where two bright streams, tumbling over their rocky beds, united in a placid pool of clear water, at the very feet of the mountains. It was a spot of surpassing beauty. The pool was, perhaps, a hundred yards broad, and, in places, twenty or thirty feet deep, yet so clear that every pebble at the bottom, and every fish which sported in its crystal depths, were distinctly visible to the eye. Upon one side rose huge gray rocks of granite, draped over with vines, and shadowed by large and wide-spreading trees, whose branches, crowded with the wax-like leaves and flowers of innumerable air-plants, cast dark, broad shadows on the water. Upon the other side was a smooth, sandy beach, completely sheltered from the sun by large trees, beneath which were drawn up a number of canoes, carefully protected from the weather by rude sheds of cahoon leaves. These canoes belonged to the Poyer Indians, and are used by them in their voyages to the Cape. A little lower down the stream were clusters of palm-trees, and large patches of bananas and plantains, which seemed to have been carefully nurtured by the Indians in their visits to this picturesque “embarcadero.”
EMBARCADERO ON THE TIROLAS.
The slant rays of the evening sun fell upon one half of the pool, where the little ripples chased each other sparkling to the shore, while upon the other part, the rocks and forest cast their cool, dark shadows. And as our canoe shot in upon its transparent bosom, I could not help joining in my Poyer boy’s shout of joy. Even “El Moro” fluttered his bright wings, and screamed in sympathetic glee. A few vigorous strokes of the paddles, and our canoe drove up half its length on the sandy shore, the sharp pebbles grating pleasantly beneath its keel. For the present, at least, I had done with lagoons and rivers, and a new excitement awaited me among the giddy steeps and untracked solitudes of the mountains. Farewell now to the cramped canoe, and the eternal succession of low and tangled banks; and ho, for the free limb and the expanding chest of the son of the forest!
With glad alacrity, my companions and myself set to work to form our encampment, on the clean dry sand. Then came Antonio, laden with the golden clusters of the plantain, while the spear of the Poyer darted down in the clear waters of the pool with unfailing skill. The rousing fire, the murmur of the mountain-torrents, and the distant cry of the fierce black tiger, the satisfied sense of having safely accomplished an arduous undertaking, high anticipations of new adventures, and the consciousness of being the first white man who had ever trusted himself in these unknown fastnesses—all these, joined to the contagious joy of my faithful companions, combined to give the keenest edge and zest to that night’s enjoyment. In my darkest hours, its recollection comes over my soul like a beam of sunlight through the rifts of a clouded sky—“a joy forever.” Blessed memory, which enables us to live over again the delights of the past, and gives an eternal solace to the cheerful mind!
That night I made a formal present of the canoe and its appurtenances to my Poyer boy, and we selected such articles as were indispensable to us, leaving the rest to be sent for by the Indians when we should reach the village. My purpose was to commence our march at dawn on the following day. But in the morning I arose with one of my feet so swollen and painful that I could neither put on my boot nor walk, except with great difficulty. The cause was, outwardly, very trifling. During the previous day the water in the Tirolas had been so shallow that it frequently became necessary to get out of the canoe and lighten it, in order to pass the various rapids. I had therefore taken off my boots, and gone into the water with my naked feet. I remember stepping on a rolling stone, slipping off, and bruising my ankle. The hurt was, however, so slight, that I did not give it a second thought. But, from this trifling cause, my foot and ankle were now swollen to nearly double their natural size, and the prosecution of my journey, for the time being, was rendered impossible. Under the tropics, serious consequences often follow from these slight causes. I have known tetanus to result from a little wound, of the size of a pea, made by extracting the bag of a nigua or chigoe, which had burrowed in the foot!
The skill of my companions was at once put in requisition. They made a poultice of ripe plantains baked in the ashes, and mixed with cocoa-nut oil, which was applied hot to the affected parts. This done, our canoe was hauled up, and an extempore roof built over it, to protect me from the weather, in case it should happen to change for the worse. I passed a fretful night, the pain being very great, and the swelling extending higher and higher, until it had reached the knee. The applications had no perceptible effect. Under these circumstances, I determined to send my Poyer to his village for assistance. He represented it as distant five days, but that it could be reached, by forced marches, in four. He objected to leave me, but on the second day, my foot being no better, he obeyed my positive orders, and started, taking with him only a little dried meat, his spear, and his bow.
Antonio now redoubled his attentions, and I certainly stood in need of them. The pain kept me from slumber, and I became irritable and feverish. But no mother could have been more constant, more patient, or more wakeful to every want than that faithful Indian boy. He exhausted his simple remedies, and still the limb became worse, and the unwilling conviction seemed to be forced on his mind, that the case was beyond his reach. When, in the intervals of the pain, he thought me slumbering, I often saw him consult his talisman with undisguised anxiety. He however, always seemed to feel reassured by it, and to become more cheerful.
On the third day a suppuration appeared at the ankle, and the pain and swelling diminished; and on the succeeding morning I probed the wound, and, to my surprise, removed a small splinter of stone, which had been the cause of all my affliction. From that moment my improvement was rapid, and I was soon able to move about without difficulty.