On this we all crept down to the bank, keeping under shelter, to observe the strangers; and on seeing them we were convinced that Antonio was right. While I was looking I observed another horseman, who by his dress appeared to be an officer, join the people, and on watching his movements I felt almost certain that he was my friend Juan. So convinced was I of this, that I advanced to the water’s edge and hailed him; but the noise of the horses prevented him hearing my voice. “What would I give to communicate with him!” I exclaimed. “Is no canoe to be found near, by which we can cross the stream?”
I explained my wishes to Pacheco.
“If you are certain that they are friends, I will swim across,” answered Pacheco.
I assured him of this, and hastily wrote a note to
Juan, begging him to wait for me, and I would try to get across the river to join him.
Pacheco placed the note inside his hat, on the top of which he fastened the short trousers and girdle he wore. He then cut two thick pieces of bamboo, with a still larger piece pointed at both ends, and taking them in his hand plunged into the water.
“Are you not afraid of the alligators?” asked Uncle Richard, under the idea that those creatures frequented the stream.
“There are few above the rapids, and those only of small size,” answered Pacheco; “if one comes near me, he will feel the point of this bamboo.”
Resting his chest on the stout pieces of cane, and striking out with his hands and feet, he made rapid progress towards the opposite shore. At length Juan saw him coming, and at the same time observed us waving, though he might not have known who we were. He probably guessed, however, that we were friends, and that the Indian was coming across to speak to him, for he rode towards the spot where our guide was about to land.