This news was rather interesting, as it now looked as though we were in for it sure enough. We spent the rest of the day in discussing the different phases of this extraordinary affair and in waiting for Loayza, who did not turn up. This looked like another portent of the approaching storm; but, nevertheless, Orjuela decided to wait another day here. I began to wish that we had never set out on our trip down the Putumayo, if we were to be thus barbarously murdered by a band of half-breed bandits, as the employees of the “civilising company” now revealed themselves to be.
The next morning the eight ex-employees, their families, and boatmen took their departure at about nine o’clock. We waited all day at El Dorado for Loayza, but he never put in an appearance, so Orjuela decided to set out early on the following morning for La Reserva.
In accordance with this resolution, at an early hour we bade adios to our hosts and set out up the river. At about eight o’clock we overtook the ex-employees, who did not seem to be in any great hurry, and continued along with them all day. We made but slow progress, and the journey was tedious in the extreme. At 7 p.m. we stopped to spend another hideous night huddled together in the canoe.
Perceiving that the ex-employees were travelling at a very leisurely pace and wishing to reach La Reserva as soon as possible, the next morning, Friday, the 10th, we passed on ahead of them and travelled more rapidly. At nightfall, in order to avoid another night of torture in the canoe, we disembarked and, clearing a small space on the bank of the stream, went to sleep there, tying the canoe up in the brush.
At about eleven o’clock I was awakened by Orjuela shaking my arm. Cautioning silence, he pointed with his finger at two rapidly approaching lights ascending the river. They were two launches. Passing us in a blaze of light, they quietly continued on upstream. Had the contemplated raid on La Unión and La Reserva actually begun? It certainly looked so, and we commenced to wonder if they would allow us to pass Argelia. They certainly had the “drop” on us.
Early in the morning we again set out on our tedious journey up the Caraparaná, and at about eleven o’clock passed without molestation the lower port of Argelia—where we had waited for our boatmen after our call on Señor De Osma y Pardo. There seemed to be nothing unusual taking place at the house, and our hopes that they would let us pass began to rise again.
Finally, at about 2.30 p.m., we reached the upper port, where we had disembarked. Then we opened our eyes; the agent and an armed peon beckoned and called us to approach. We continued on, pretending not to notice them. Then De Osma y Pardo shouted that they would fire. The peon raised his Winchester to do so, and we started to approach.
As we slowly neared the bank I suggested to Orjuela that as there were only two of them we might drop them when we got up at close quarters and then get away, for we had arms, and the peon as soon as he saw us come towards the shore had let his rifle rest on the ground and was now leaning upon it in a negligent attitude; Orjuela, however, did not seem to think it good policy, so we pulled up at the shore and asked what was up. The agent then informed Orjuela that he was a prisoner, and he and the peon led us—boatmen and all—up to the house. Here he stated that he had received orders to detain Orjuela and two of the Indians; but, having had no instructions in regard to Sánchez and myself, he announced that we were at liberty to continue on upstream with the peon of Orjuela’s—whom we passed off as my own—and the remaining Indian.
In reply to our protests and inquiries as to the reason for this high-handed proceeding he maintained an absolute silence. Seeing that nothing was to be done, we accordingly took our leave of the unfortunate Orjuela and resumed our journey up the river. We continued rowing until late that night, but were able to make but slow progress, owing to the absence of the other two boatmen. Meanwhile we indulged in many conjectures as to what would happen to us and the people of La Reserva and La Unión, completely at the mercy of these latter-day pirates, who seemed to stop at nothing in their greedy ambition to obtain possession of the establishments of the Colombian settlers—Serrano, Gonzalez and Ordoñez, and Martínez.
The next morning we continued the journey, and in about an hour passed Filadelfia. At about nine o’clock we heard rifle-shots, apparently in the vicinity of La Unión or La Reserva; these lasted nearly an hour. Then they ceased and silence once more reigned over these vast solitudes, so we pushed on until 8 p.m., when, hearing the whistle of a launch coming down the river, we pulled up along the right bank to avoid the waves caused by the propeller.