But I must not stop to describe the various incidents of our journey, or attempt to portray the scenery of the country we traversed. It varied greatly; sometimes being grand and beautiful, at others monotonous. Sometimes we slept at the cottages of the natives, at others we bivouacked in the woods, or under the shelter of lofty rocks. We each carried a net-hammock at the cruppers of our mules, so that we had it ready to hang up between a couple of trees, or in a hut, whenever we stopped, either for our noonday rest or at night. On crossing a wide elevated plain, we passed through several forests of date-trees; and had a few Arabs with their camels been moving about among them, the whole scene would have borne a truly African appearance.
The journey appeared a very long one, though we pushed on each day as fast as our mules could travel; but we had to make frequent détours to avoid places held by the Spaniards, who, though often defeated, still had considerable forces in the field. My uncle and I, having been born in the country, would have been looked upon as Spanish subjects; and as all the members of our family were known to hold Liberal opinions, we might be detained and compelled to serve in the Spanish ranks. At all events, my uncle
thought it prudent to keep out of the way of the Royalists, as well as of those Indians who were known to side with them.
Whenever we passed through a village or came to a halt for the night, we endeavoured to gain information of the movements of the troops; and in the course of three days we came in sight of as many spots where villages had once stood, which now only presented blackened walls and devastated fields—the sad result of civil war. When able, we obtained a guide to conduct us over the mountain-paths; but we were not always successful, and sometimes had to make our way alone.
We were now approaching our home; but my uncle had been so long absent from the country that he was unacquainted with the road, and even Tim had to confess that he did not sufficiently recollect the appearance of the scenery to guide us.
We had descended to a lower level, and after passing through a thick tropical forest, were proceeding along the margin of a river, looking for an open spot to encamp, when the sun disappeared behind the mountains on our right. There is little or no twilight, it will be remembered, in that latitude, and before we were aware of it darkness came down upon us.
“Shure, we can camp aisy enough,” observed Tim; “but about the provender—I’m afraid our canteen is well-nigh empty.”
Such proved to be the case, and we had every prospect of going without our supper. We had two mulatto boys to look after our mules, but they were of little use for any other purpose; and though we heard some parrots and other birds uttering various notes in the trees, it was too dark to see them. Still, as it could not be helped, we were about to make our usual preparations for spending the night, when Tim exclaimed that he saw a light some distance ahead; and as it probably proceeded from a hut, or perhaps from a habitation of more importance, he proposed that we should ride forward towards it. My uncle, with his usual wariness, was unwilling to allow this, fearing that it might proceed from the camp of a party of Spaniards or Indians. I offered, therefore, to make my way to it, and ascertain whether we were likely to meet with a friendly reception. To this he consented, provided I took care not to be discovered.
Carrying my rifle in one hand, and a stick, with which to feel my way, in the other, I directed my steps towards the light. As I approached it, I crept forward slowly, concealing myself behind the shrubs which grew thickly around. As I advanced I saw that there were several lights, and I heard voices, with now and then the sound of laughter. “If they are enemies, they are jolly ones,” I said to myself; “there is nothing very dreadful here, I suspect.”