Though I hoped I might be wrong in supposing an attack possible, I was satisfied at having warned John before going away. Arthur and I tried to make Duppo understand our plans, that he might describe them to his father and mother. They, in return, signified that they would proceed part of the way with us, and make inquiries as they went along, having been requested to do so by their white friend—meaning the recluse.
John, Ellen, Domingos, and Maria came down to the edge of the water once more to see us off, accompanied by Nimble and Toby—Toby placed on the shoulders of Domingos, while Nimble perched himself on John’s arm, holding him affectionately round the neck with his tail. Poll and Niger always accompanied Ellen. “We shall soon be back!” I exclaimed, as I shoved off; “and who knows but that we may be accompanied by papa, mamma, Fanny, and Aunt Martha! Ellen, you must get out your books, for she will be shocked at finding that you have been so long idle.” With these and other cheerful remarks we backed away from the shore, then, turning the canoe’s head round, proceeded after our Indian friends. By keeping close to the banks we were out of the current, and thus made good way. Sometimes I steered, sometimes Duppo. Arthur always begged that he might keep at his paddle, saying he did not like to take the place of those who had more experience than himself. A light wind at length coming from the eastward, we hoisted our sail, and got ahead of Maono and his wife. The wind increasing, we ran the other canoe out of sight; but Duppo assured us that his father and mother would soon catch us up, and that we need not therefore wait for them. We looked into every opening in the forest which lined the bank, in the faint hope of seeing the habitation of our friends; but not a hut of any description was visible; indeed, the shores were mostly lined with so dense a vegetation, that in but few places could we even have landed, while often for leagues together there was not a spot on which a hut could have been built. The wind again falling, we were obliged once more to lower our sail and to take to our paddles, when we were quickly rejoined by our Indian friends. As it was important to examine every part of the shore carefully, we had agreed, if we could find an island, to land early in the evening on it.
Chapter Fourteen.
Our exploring expedition—fearful danger.
A week had passed away. We had crossed the stream several times to examine the southern bank of the river, and every inch of the northern bank had been explored. Sometimes we met Maono and his wife to compare notes, and then we again separated to continue our explorations. We were now once more proceeding up the Napo, with high clay banks surmounted by lofty forest trees above our heads. “I see some people moving on the shore there. O Harry! can it be them?” exclaimed Arthur. Several persons appeared coming through an opening in the forest, at a spot where the ground sloped down to the water. We could, however, see no habitation.
“It is possible,” I answered. We passed this part of the river in the dark, and might thus have missed them.
Having been exploring the western bank, we were crossing the river at that moment. As we paddled on, my heart beat with excitement. If it should be them after all! The people stopped, and seemed to be observing us. We paddled on with all our might, and they came down closer to the water. Suddenly Duppo lifted up his paddle and exclaimed, “Majeronas!” We looked and looked again, still hoping that Duppo might have been mistaken; but his eyes were keener than ours. Approaching a little nearer, we were convinced that he was right. To go closer to the shore, therefore, would be useless and dangerous. We accordingly paddled back to the side we had just left, where we once more continued our upward course.
We had parted two days before this from Maono and Illora, who were to explore part of the bank we had left unvisited, and to meet us again at the island where we had been so nearly wrecked at the mouth of the igarape. We had almost reached the spot where we had expected to find my father and the rest of our family. The shores of the river were occasionally visited, as we had learned by experience, by the Majeronas, though not usually inhabited by them. It was therefore necessary to use great caution when going on shore. We landed, however, whenever we saw a spot where we thought it possible our friends might have touched on their voyage, in the hope that they might there have left some signal or note for us. The banks were here very different from those lower down. In many places they were composed of sand or clay cliffs of considerable height, often completely overhanging the river, as if the water had washed away their bases—indeed, such was undoubtedly the case. Frequently the trees grew to the very edge of these cliffs, their branches forming a thick shade over the stream. To avoid the hot sun we were tempted to keep our canoe close under them, as it was very pleasant to be able to paddle on in the comparatively cool air. Thus we proceeded, till we arrived at the spot where we had been so bitterly disappointed at not finding my family. No one was to be seen, but we landed, that we might again examine it more carefully. The ground on which the hut had stood still remained undisturbed, though vegetation had almost obliterated all the traces of fire. After hunting about in vain for some time, we took our way back to the canoe. We had nearly reached the water’s edge, when Arthur exclaimed that he saw something white hanging to the lower branch of a tree, amid the thick undergrowth which grew around. We had some difficulty in cutting our way up to it. We then saw a handkerchief tied up in the shape of a ball.