On the Banks of the Amazon

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Suddenly, however, the wind again dropped. The sun, which had hitherto been casting his undimmed rays down on our heads, became obscured, as if a thick curtain had been drawn across it. The whole sky assumed a yellow tinge. Domingos looked anxiously round.

“I do not like the look of the weather,” he observed. “It would be wise to lower the sail.”

We had just got it down, when a low murmur was heard in the distant woods, increasing rapidly to a subdued roar. A white line appeared across the river. It came rapidly towards us. Now we could feel the wind blowing against our cheeks, and the whole surface of the water became suddenly rippled into wavelets, from which the white foam flew off in thick sheets. The sky had again changed to a greenish hue. The waves every moment increased in height.

“A hurricane is coming on,” observed Domingos. “We cannot face it.”

We put the canoe’s head towards the shore.

“Paddle, my masters! paddle!” exclaimed Domingos. “We must reach the shore before the storm breaks with its full violence, or we may be lost!”

We had not paddled many strokes before we felt the canoe driven forward by the wind at a rapid rate. We exerted ourselves, running before the wind, and edging in at the same time towards the northern shore. Every instant the hurricane gained strength; and as we looked upward, the whole sky, we saw, had assumed a red and black appearance. A little ahead appeared a sand-bank, on which stood a number of tall-legged birds, cormorants, white cranes, and other waders, large and small. We might land on the island, and save our lives; but the wind setting directly on it, we might lose our canoe, or, at all events, the water would break into her and destroy our goods. Domingos steered the canoe admirably, while we made every effort to keep off the island. Presently down came the blast with greater fury than before. Some of the smaller birds were carried off their legs and borne away by the wind. Others, throwing themselves down, stuck their beaks into the sand, and clung on with their long claws, their feet extended. In spite of our danger, Arthur and I could not help laughing at the extraordinary appearance of the birds, as they thus lay in great numbers along the sand, looking as if they had been shot, and were lying dead till the sportsman could pick them up. On we drove, narrowly escaping being thrown upon the bank, on which the foaming seas broke with terrific force.

“Here it comes again!” cried Domingos. “Paddle bravely, and be not alarmed.”

As he spoke, another blast, still more violent, struck us, and in an instant the covering of our canoe was torn away and lifted up. In vain we attempted to catch it. It was borne off by the wind towards the shore. So high were the waves which thus suddenly rose up, that we expected every moment to be overwhelmed; while we feared that unless we could manage to anchor we should be driven on the bank to leeward, where the canoe would be filled with water, and everything in her carried away. To resist the fury of the waves was impossible. In vain we strove to get under the lee of the island. Destruction yawned before us, when we saw, amid the thick forest trees which lined the bank, a narrow opening. It was the entrance, we hoped, to an igarape,—one of those curious water-ways, or canoe paths, which form a network of canals many hundred miles in extent, on either bank of the Amazon. We exerted ourselves to the utmost to reach it, although the seas which struck the side of the canoe threatened every moment to upset her before we could do so. Ellen and Maria had got out their paddles, and laboured away with all their strength, Maria’s stout arms indeed being a very efficient help. Domingos kept working away with his paddle, now on one side, now on another, now steering astern as he saw was requisite, twisting his features into a hundred different forms, and showing his white teeth as he shouted out in his eagerness. The tall trees were bending before the blast as if they were about to be torn from their roots and carried bodily inland. My fear was, on seeing them thus agitated, that should we get beneath them they might fall and crush us. Still we had no choice. It seemed doubtful whether we should reach the mouth of the igarape.

We redoubled our efforts, and just grazing by a point which projected from the shore, on which, had we been thrown, we should have been upset, we darted into the canal. Even there the water hissed and roared as it was forced into the narrow channel. As an arrow flies through the zarabatana, so we sped up the igarape. For a few seconds Domingos had to exert himself to steer the canoe in mid-channel, to prevent her being dashed against the roots of the tall trees which projected into it. At first the roar of the wind among the trunks and branches was almost deafening. Gradually it decreased, and in a short time we could hear only the distant murmur of the tempest on the outside of the woody boundary. We were not, however, to escape altogether from it, for down came the rain in a pelting shower, to which, from the loss of our awning, we were completely exposed. We quickly, however, rigged another with our sail, which afforded shelter to Ellen and Maria. Having secured the canoe, we all crept under it, and consulted what we should next do. What with the mantle of clouds across the sky, and the thick arch of boughs over our heads, so great was the darkness that we could scarcely persuade ourselves that night was not coming on. We sat patiently, hoping that the rain, which pattered down with so loud a noise that it was necessary to raise our voices to make each other hear, would at length cease. In about half an hour, the shower-bath to which we had been exposed came to an end. But still drops fell thickly from the boughs, and the darkness proved to us that the clouds had not yet cleared away.