On the Banks of the Amazon

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Oh, let me go through the woods,” exclaimed Ellen; “I should like to see the country.”

“But then, who is to look after Arthur? He is not fit to walk so far yet,” said John.

“Oh, then I will go and take care of him,” answered Ellen.

It was finally arranged that Maono and Duppo should paddle the canoe, and look after Ellen and Arthur. They formed a sufficiently large freight for the little craft. The Indians now shouldered our goods, each man taking a load twice as heavy as any one of us could have carried, although much less than our Napo peons had conveyed down to the river. Before starting, Arthur wrote the note he had proposed to the recluse, and left it on the table. We could not help feeling sorry at leaving that shady little retreat. At the same time, there was no chance while remaining there of obtaining tidings of our family. Having handed Ellen and Arthur into the canoe, with Nimble, and Ellen’s other pets, we watched her for some minutes as Maono paddled her along the shore, which presented as far as we could see one wall of tall trees of varied forms rising almost from the water. “We shall meet again soon,” exclaimed Ellen as she waved an adieu. “Who knows what adventures we shall have to recount to each other!” We could not tear ourselves from the spot while the canoe remained in sight. As soon as she disappeared we hurried after the Indians. Domingos and Maria had gone on with them. We walked on rapidly, fully expecting, as they had loads, that we should quickly overtake them. John was a little ahead of me, when suddenly I saw him take a tremendous leap along the path. I was wondering what sudden impulse had seized him, when I heard him exclaim, “Look out, Harry I see that creature;” and there I observed stretched across the path, a big ugly-looking serpent. I sprang back, holding True, who would have unhesitatingly dashed at the dangerous reptile. It was nearly six feet in length, almost as thick as a man’s leg, of a deep brown above, pale yellow streaks forming a continued series of lozenge-shaped marks down the back, growing less and less distinct as they descended the sides, while it had a thin neck, and a huge flat head, covered with small scales.

As we had our guns ready, we did not fear it. It seemed disinclined to move, and, had it not lifted up its tail, we might have supposed it dead. We soon recognised, by the shape of the point, the fearful rattlesnake;—fearful it would be from its venomous bite, had not the rattle been fixed to it to give notice of its approach. We threw sticks at it, but still it did not seem inclined to move. Again it lifted up its horny tail, and shook its rattle. “Take care,” cried John; “keep away.” The serpent had begun to glide over the ground, now looking at one of us, now at the other, as if undecided at which it should dart. I took John’s advice, and quickly retreated. He fired, and shattered the reptile’s head. As it still moved slowly, I finished it with a blow of my stick.

As it would have been inconvenient to drag after us, we cut off the tail, that we might examine it at leisure. We found that the rattle was placed with the broad part perpendicular to the body. The last joint was fastened to the last vertebra of the tail by means of a thick muscle, as well as by the membranes which united it to the skin. The remaining joints were so many extraneous bodies, as it were, unconnected with the tail, except by the curious way in which they were fitted into each other. It is said that these bony rings or rattles increase in number with the age of the animal, and on each casting of the skin it acquires an additional one. The tip of every uppermost bone runs within two of the bones below it. By this means they not only move together, but also multiply the sound, as each bone hit against two others at the same time.

They are said only to bite when provoked or when they kill their prey. For this purpose they are provided with two kinds of teeth,—the smaller, which are placed in each jaw, and serve to catch and retain their food: and the fangs, or poisonous teeth, which are placed without the upper jaw. They live chiefly upon birds and small animals. It is said that when the piercing eye of the rattlesnake is fixed on an animal or bird they are so terrified and astonished that they are unable to escape. Birds, as if entranced, unwillingly keeping their eyes fixed on those of the reptile, have been seen to drop into its mouth. Smaller animals fall from the trees and actually run into the jaws open to receive them. Fatal as is the bite of the rattlesnake to most creatures, the peccary attacks and eats the reptile without the slightest hesitation; as, indeed, do ordinary hogs,—and even when bitten they do not suffer in the slightest degree.

This encounter with the rattlesnake having delayed us for a little time, we hurried on as rapidly as we could to overtake our companions. We had gone some distance, and still had not come up with them. I began to be afraid that we had turned aside from the right path. In some places even our eyes had distinguished the marks of those who had gone before us. We had now lost sight of them altogether, and as the wood was tolerably open, and the axes had not been used, we could only judge by the direction of the sun how to proceed.

We went on for some time, still believing ourselves in the right direction; but at last, when we expected to find the marks of the axes which we had before made, we could discover none. We searched about—now on one side, now on the other. The forest, though dense, was yet sufficiently open to enable us to make our way in a tolerably direct line. Now and then we had to turn aside to avoid the thick mass of creepers or the fallen trunk of some huge tree. We shouted frequently, hoping that Domingos and the Indians might hear us. Then John suggested that they, finding it an easy matter to follow the right track, did not suppose we could lose it. At last we grew tired of shouting, and agreed that we should probably fall in with the proper track by inclining somewhat to the right; and I had so much faith also in True’s sagacity that I had hopes he would find it. However, I gave him more credit than he deserved. He was always happy in the woods, like a knight-errant in search of adventures, plenty of which he was indeed likely to meet with.

Still in the belief that we were not far wrong in our course, we walked briskly forward. We had gone some distance, when True made towards the decayed trunk of a huge tree, and began barking violently. While we were still at a considerable distance, a large hairy creature rose up before us. True stood his ground bravely, rushing now on one side, now on the other, of the animal. It had an enormous bushy tail, curled up something like that of a squirrel, but with a great deal more hair, and looked fully eight feet in length. As we drew nearer we saw that it had also an extraordinary long snout. It seemed in no degree afraid of True, and he evidently considered it a formidable antagonist. Presently it lifted itself up on its hind legs, when True sprang back just in time to avoid a gripe of its claws. Still the creature, undaunted by our appearance, made at him, when, seeing that he was really in danger, John and I rushed forward. We then discovered the creature to be a huge ant-eater, which, though it had no teeth, was armed with formidable claws, with which it would inevitably have killed my brave dog had it caught him. A shot in the head from John’s rifle laid it dead.