A CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE.
All were heartily glad to terminate the journey by mule and on foot, and there was sound sleep in their little tent on the night following their arrival at the village on the river's bank. They were up early, and for two or three hours were occupied with paying the carriers, and negotiating for canoes for the voyage down the stream. The settlement with the carriers was less difficult than the engagement of the canoes. The price for land transportation had been agreed upon beforehand, so that there was little occasion for dispute; the porters of the sillas had exaggerated ideas of the value of their services in bringing their charges through without accident; but the question did not rise to anything like a serious misunderstanding.
The Indians of the village were disinclined to move, as it happened to be a period of festival, and they resented the idea of stopping their rejoicings in order to make a voyage down the river. Manuel argued that it was a downward voyage, and they would have no hard work to do; by the time they were at their journey's end the festival would be over, and consequently the proposed trip would not really interfere with their amusements. They admitted the force of his suggestion, and when this was fairly conceded the negotiations proceeded, with some hitches, to a happy termination.
In spite of all efforts to secure an early departure, they did not get away until the morning of the third day following their arrival from the Andes. Four canoes were engaged; two for the baggage, and two for the three travellers and their guide. The canoes were each about twenty feet long, and two in width; they were hollowed from the trunks of trees, and closely resembled the American "dugout." In fact they were literally of that type of craft, and reminded Frank and Fred of the boats they had seen in the Malay Archipelago, and at Singapore and Point de Galle.
Each canoe had four rowers, and a popero, or pilot; the latter was an important personage, as the safety of the boat in the rapids depended upon his watchfulness, and his prompt action in moments of peril. The baggage was placed in two of the canoes; the third was occupied by Doctor Bronson and Frank, while the fourth held Fred and the guide. The Doctor and Frank led the advance, while Fred and the guide brought up the rear, the baggage canoes being in the centre of the column. After an affectionate parting of the Indians with their friends on shore the canoes were manned, and the flotilla was under way. The leave-taking of the Indians was peculiar; they clasped hands, then kissed the hands alternately, and then kissed each other. As each Indian was obliged to go through this ceremony with every one whom he left behind, the osculation consumed considerable time.
The canoes were to take them to the point where the river they were descending unites with the Beni; it was estimated that the downward journey would occupy two days, while the Indians would be eight or ten days in returning. In descending they keep the canoes in the middle of the stream, and take advantage of the current, but in ascending they hug the banks, and propel the boat by means of poles, or by dragging it around the rapids. The current is swift, as there is a considerable fall to the river; nowhere was the flow less than three miles an hour, and in many places it amounted to five miles. Several rapids were passed which had a dangerous appearance, and undoubtedly they would have been full of peril to any one unaccustomed to them.
Dr. Bronson certainly looked very serious while passing the first of the rapids, and the face of Frank wore an expression of anxiety. But their possible doubt as to the result was removed when they saw the skill with which the popero swung his long paddle, dexterously brought the canoe around when it seemed about to go headlong on a rock, and let it glide past a whirling eddy which threatened to swamp it. They were only a few minutes in the rapid, but it seemed at least an hour to the travellers.