It appeared, after all, that though he had killed so many, the furious herd was as numerous as ever. The matter was growing serious; our boatmen would not know what had become of us, and might possibly take it into their heads that we had been attacked and killed by Indians, jaguars, or snakes, and might return to Angostura and leave us to our fate. We had no great confidence in them, though they behaved well enough when we were present to keep them in order. The doctor’s and the padre’s ammunition was already running short, too; though I, having used my lance, had a larger supply. I calculated that I had what would kill twenty peccaries; but still there would remain several dozens to be disposed of. At last the doctor told me he had only a couple of charges left; and shouting to the padre, we ascertained that he had the same number. It would not do to expend these, as on our way back we might have to defend ourselves against other wild beasts.
The doctor now took my lance, which he used with pretty good effect, piercing five or six more of our enemies. He had pinned another to the ground through the side, but in its struggles it snapped off the head of the lance, and we had now only the charges which I had reserved for the destruction of some of the remainder. Each time I fired I killed a peccary; but we calculated that when I had fired the last shot I could venture on, there would still remain upwards of forty of our fierce little assailants—a number sufficient to kill every one of us, should we descend to the ground.
We sat still for some minutes, considering what was best to be done. Hunger, independent of the wish to continue our voyage, made us anxious to get down; but the doctor warned the padre and me on no account to make the attempt.
“I would sooner face a couple of jaguars than those little brutes,” he observed.
We were seated on our perches, disconsolate enough, it may be supposed, when we heard a sound of cracking boughs, as if some creature was making its way through the underwood, and presently we caught sight of a large tapir with a jaguar on its back, dashing at headlong speed through the forest. It attracted the attention of the peccaries, and they, for the moment forgetting us, darted off in pursuit, possibly with the hope of making both animals their prey.
“Now’s our time,” cried the doctor; “come, señor padre, descend from your tree—quick!—quick!—and we’ll make our way to the canoe.”
The padre eagerly obeyed the summons; and came rolling, rather than leaping, down to the ground, nearly dislocating his ankle. We each of us took hold of his hands, and together, in spite of the pain he was suffering, ran through the forest. As we did so, I looked back pretty often to ascertain whether the terrible little monsters were following us.
The padre begged us at last to stop, that he might recover breath and rub his ankle. As we rested, he fancied that he again heard the grunts and squeaks, and urged us to go on. We willingly obeyed him, and continued our night till we saw the broad river close in front of us. We shouted to our crew, but neither they nor the canoe were to be seen.
“The fellows can’t have put off already,” exclaimed the doctor; “they deserve hanging or shooting if they have.”
“Perhaps they are hidden by the bank,” observed the padre; “come on. I still hear those horrible grunts in the distance; I shall never get the sound out of my ears as long as I live.”