Dear Ellen was so agitated with the thoughts of meeting those we loved so soon, that she could scarcely speak. She overheard, however, the remarks between Arthur and myself. “And why do you doubt that all will come right in the end?” she exclaimed. “Think of the many dangers we have gone through, and how we have been preserved from them all. Let us hope the same for our friends.”
Domingos was standing over the fire with his frying-pan when we came round the point with Antonio. At that moment he happened to look up, when, forgetting what he was about, he let the frying-pan and its contents fall into the middle of the fire, thereby spoiling a delicious fricassee of iguana, and sprang forward to welcome his fellow-servant, and to make inquiries for their master. The two rushed into each other’s arms, and the tears fell from the black man’s eyes when he heard that our father was well.
We spent the evening at our encampment, hearing from Antonio all that had occurred: how our father had received information of the intended attack of the Majeronas, and had embarked just in time to escape them. He would have waited for us higher up the river had he not been compelled, for the sake of obtaining assistance for our mother, to proceed downwards. They had all been hospitably received at the farm of a Brazilian family, where she having recovered, he determined to wait for our arrival. The first messengers he had despatched not having been heard of, on the arrival of Houlston and Tony Nyass, they had insisted on proceeding upward. As they also had not returned, Antonio, with the party we had met, had been sent to search for us.
It was the happiest evening we had spent since the commencement of our journey. Anxiety about our friends did not damp our spirits, as we hoped that they would hear of us at some of the places at which we had called; and that we should soon all meet, and continue our adventures in company. “Fancy Tony and I, and old Houlston, after all, sailing together on the Amazon, just as we used to talk about at school!” I acclaimed. “It will be jolly, will it not, Arthur?”
Chapter Nineteen.
A Happy Meeting.
A week had passed away. The two canoes keeping in company, we no longer felt the solitude which had oppressed us as we navigated that vast stream, or the intricate labyrinth of channels, often far away from the main shore. Several times we had inquired of Antonio whether we were approaching the farm of Senhor Pimento, where our family were living. “Paciencia; logo, logo,” was his answer—“Patience; soon, soon we shall be there.” We turned off from the main stream, and ascended an igarape thickly shrouded by palms and other trees, completely shutting out the sky above us. At the end of the vista the bright sunlight shone on an open space, where appeared a small lake, on the opposite side of which we could distinguish several buildings raised on piles—a large one in the centre with a deep verandah, the palm-thatched roof of which extended beyond the walls; the whole surrounded by plantations of mandioca, cacao, peach-palms, and other trees.
“Is that where we are going?” asked Ellen eagerly of Antonio. “We shall see—we shall see, señorita!” he answered. Rounding a point, we observed a hut beneath a grove of inaja palms; their leaves springing almost from the ground, and spreading slightly out from the slender stem, so as to form an open vase of the most graceful shape. Few objects of the vegetable kingdom are more beautiful. “Oh, what lovely trees!” exclaimed Ellen. “And see! there is some one coming out from among them.”