The Wanderers; Or, Adventures in the Wilds of Trinidad and Orinoco

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“We must not let you run the risk of becoming ill,” exclaimed Arthur. “We must build a raft large enough to carry you, and we can tow you while you lie upon it. It will be far better than allowing you to swim on.”

Marian thanked him, and confessed that she should infinitely prefer that mode of progression, though she enjoyed swimming for a short time. Arthur at once told Uncle Paul and our father, and they agreed that we should build a raft large enough for the purpose proposed. We wished to have it of sufficient size to carry our father also; but he would not hear of it, declaring that he enjoyed the swimming, and had no fear of his strength failing him.

We at once set to work; and as we had no axe, we were compelled to break off by main strength, having first deeply notched them with our knives, as many small palms of equal girth as we could collect. We then had to cut up a number into short lengths, to serve as crosspieces. Having collected our materials, we set to work to bind them together with thin sepos. The raft, though rather rough, was of sufficient strength for our purpose; and even had it come to pieces, Marian had lifebuoys with which to swim. We placed on it all our small bundles, which we had hitherto either towed or pushed before us; and again we asked our father if he would not allow us to build a smaller raft for himself.

“No,” he replied. “But I will accompany Marian, and it will afford me rest should I grow tired.”

While we had been employed in forming the raft, Kallolo and Maco had made an excursion into the forest to try and ascertain the whereabouts of the natives we had passed, and whether, from their appearance, they were likely to prove friendly or otherwise. This they could tell, they said, from their style of dress and their hair, from the marks on their bodies, and, above all, from their weapons. If they proved to be a friendly tribe, our friends intended to borrow a canoe, in which we might perform the remainder of our voyage in comparative comfort and safety. If the Indians were likely to be badly-disposed, they would steal away without communicating with them; and they assured us, from the precautions they would take, that there was no fear of our being discovered.

They had been gone for some time, and the raft was nearly ready, when, as we were looking up the stream, we caught sight of a person swimming down the centre, towards us. We watched him, wondering who he could be. As he drew near, we recognised the woolly head and black face of Sambo. He had not seen us, nor did he when he was close under the bough. The raft, however, which was floating beneath, seemed to astonish him. He swam up to examine it. A hearty laugh, in which Arthur and I indulged, at the look of astonishment in his countenance, was the first intimation he had of our being close to him.

“Oh, Massa Guy! where have you been all this time?” he exclaimed, as I lent him a hand to get up on the bough.

“Hid away among the branches of this tree,” I answered. “And pray, where have you come from?”

“Well, Massa Guy, I wait some time; at last I think that the young lady and you and your father get tired with the long swim, so I thought I might as well bring the raft down the channel as far as I could tow it; but it stuck in the roots of a big tree which stretched nearly across the water, and so, as I could not by myself get it past them, I jumped overboard, and swam along to tell you. If you all come along, some can rest on it, and others can swim alongside, and we then go much faster than we can by swimming.”

My father and Uncle Paul thanked Sambo for coming; and had the two Indians returned, would at once have set out with him. He, however, required some rest and food, and was not disposed, he confessed, to start immediately. Uncle Paul, on this, proposed that Marian should commence the voyage without delay, with our father and Arthur as her attendants. I should have liked to go; but Arthur was a better swimmer, and was stronger than I was, and would thus be more able to take care of her. Marian, who was ever willing to do what was thought best, now, with Uncle Paul’s assistance, took her seat on the raft; while my father and Arthur, descending from the bough into the water, placed themselves on either side of it, resting one hand on it, while with the other they struck out. Before they had gone far, they found the water far shallower than we had expected, and they were thus able to wade on, and make good progress.