Just as the sun’s disk was seen above the tree-tops that skirted the lagoa on the east, our adventurers embarked on their aquatic expedition. But it could not be said that they started in high spirits. They knew not what was to be the sequel of their singular undertaking. Where their journey was to end, or whether its end might not be for some of their number—if not all of them—the bottom of the Gapo.
Indeed, the Indian, to whom they all looked for encouragement as well as guidance, was himself not very sanguine of success. He did not say so, but for all that Trevannion, who had kept interrogating him at intervals while they were preparing to start, had become impressed with this belief. As the Mundurucú persisted in counselling the expedition, he did not urge any further opposition, and under the auspices of a glorious tropical sunrise they committed themselves to the open waters of the lagoa.
At the very start there occurred a somewhat ominous accident. As the coaita would have been a cumbersome companion for any of the swimmers to carry, it was decided that the creature should be left behind. Unpleasant as it was to part with a pet so long in the company of the galatea’s crew, there was no alternative but to abandon it.
Tipperary Tom, notwithstanding his attachment toward it, or rather its attachment toward him, was but too willing to assent to the separation. He had a vivid recollection of his former entanglement, and the risk he had run of being either drowned in the Gapo, or strangled by the coaita’s tail; and with this remembrance still fresh before his fancy, he had taken the precaution at this new start to steal silently off from the trees, among the foremost of the swimmers. Everybody in fact had got off, before the coaita was aware of their intention to abandon it, and to such a distance that by no leap could it alight upon anybody’s shoulders. On perceiving that it was left behind, it set up a series of cries, painfully plaintive, but loud enough to have been heard almost to the limits of the lagoa.
A similar desertion of the macaw was evidently intended, to which no one had given a thought, although it was Rosa’s pet. The ouistiti had been provided with a free passage upon the shoulders of the young Paraense. But the huge parrot was not to be left behind in this free and easy fashion. It was not so helpless as the coaita. It possessed a pair of strong wings, which, when strongly and boldly spread, could carry it clear across the lagoa. Conscious of this superior power, it did not stay long upon the trees, to mingle its chattering with the screams of the coaita. Before the swimmers had made a hundred strokes, the macaw mounted into the air, flew for a while hoveringly above them, as if selecting its perch, and then dropped upon the negro’s head, burying its claws in his tangled hair.
Chapter Forty Seven.
The Guide Abandoned.
As the swimmers proceeded, their hopes grew brighter. They saw that they were able to make good headway through the water; and in less than an hour they were a full mile distant from their point of departure. At this rate they should be on the other side of the lagoon before sunset, if their strength would only hold out. The voyage promised to be prosperous; and joy sat upon their countenances.