The storm lasted well through the night, but at daybreak the rain had ceased. When they went on deck, there, swinging behind them, was the drenched boat, with Shaddy seated astern, scooping out the last drops of water with a tin, and saving that the canvas tent was saturated and steamed slightly, nothing seemed wrong. The morning was comparatively cool, a gleam of orange light coming in the east, and a pleasant gale blowing from the south and sending the shallow-draughted schooner onward at a rapid pace.
A couple of hours later, with the sun well up, the temperature was delicious, the canvas of the boat tent drying rapidly, and Shaddy, after hauling close up astern for the fish he had not forgotten, had reported that not a drop of water had got inside to the stores.
Days followed of pleasant sailing, generally with the pampero blowing, but with a few changes round to the north, when, as they tacked up the river, it was like being in another climate.
One or two stoppages followed at the very few towns on the banks, and at last the junction of the two great rivers was reached, the Parana, up which they had sailed, winding off to the east and north, the Paraguay, up which their destination lay, running in a winding course due north.
As Shaddy had prophesied, the change was wonderful as soon as they had entered this river, and fresh scenes and novelties were constantly delighting Rob’s eyes as they slowly sailed on against the current.
“Oh yes, this is all very well,” said Shaddy; “but wait till we’ve got past the big city yonder and left the schooners and trade and houses behind: then I shall show you something. All this don’t count.”
Mr Brazier seemed to think that it did, and a dozen times over he was for bidding Captain Ossolo good-bye, thanking and paying him for towing him up the river, and turning off at once into one of the streams that ran in through the virgin land west. But Shaddy opposed him.
“I’m only your servant, Mr Brazier, sir,” he said, “and I’ll do what you say; but you told me you wanted to go into quite noo country. Well, it will be easier for me to take you up one of these creeks or rivers, and you’ll be able to hunt and collect; only recollect that it isn’t such very noo country—other folks have been up here and there. What I say is, give the skipper good-bye when we get to Assuncion, and then we’ll sail and row and pole up a couple of hundred miles farther, and then turn off west’ard. Then I can take you up rivers where everything’s noo to Englishmen, and in such a country as shall make you say that you couldn’t ha’ thought there was such a land on earth.”
Similar conversations to this took place again and again, and all fired Martin Brazier’s brain as much as they did Rob’s.
They had an unexpected effect, too, for, on reaching Assuncion, where the schooner cast anchor to discharge her cargo and take in a fresh one for the downward journey, Captain Ossolo came over into the boat one evening with his son, just as Brazier and Rob were busy with Shaddy packing in stores which had been freshly purchased, as possibly this would be the last place where they could provide themselves with some of the necessaries of life.