We pulled up, keeping towards its western shore. It was fringed with a broad belt of mangrove-trees standing on numberless branching roots which extended far into the water. So dense and tall were these trees that the view beyond them was completely shut out, while not a spot of dry ground appeared which would have afforded us a landing-place had we wished to get on shore. The scenery, indeed, was altogether unattractive and gloomy,—very different from that which I had expected to see.
We had not gone far when the weather, as the captain had predicted, suddenly changed. Dark clouds chased each other at a rapid rate across the hitherto blue sky; the wind came in fitful gusts, increasing every instant; and the water, before so calm, rose in foaming waves with extraordinary suddenness,—the cause of which, my uncle observed, was the shallowness of the lake. Still we continued our course, hoping to get to the village of Cervanos, where we could procure a bongo, or native canoe, in which we could perform our voyage of eight hundred miles up the Magdalena; and where also, should it, as we hoped, be in the hands of the Republicans, we might obtain the information we required to send back to the schooner. The fury of the wind, which, now shifting, blew partly across and partly down the lake, made it impossible for us to proceed in the direction we desired; and an opening among the mangrove-trees, which my uncle hoped might prove the mouth of a stream, appearing, he steered towards it.
Scarcely had we got the boat’s head round when the gale came down upon us with redoubled fury, and sent her flying along with only two oars out at a furious speed. A small palm-branch which, floating by, my uncle picked up, was almost blown out of his hands as he held it in the air. We were fortunately right in conjecturing that we were entering the mouth of a stream; so we went on some distance with unabated speed, when a crash was heard, and the water came rushing into the boat. We had run against a sunken log or projecting root. Still we ran on, while the man in the bows attempted to stop the leak with his jacket and the boat’s sail, and my uncle and I bailed as fast we could with our hats. Every moment we expected the boat to fill; but presently we saw a narrow opening, through which we rushed, with only space sufficient for the oars on each side to avoid the roots of the mangrove-trees, while the dense foliage formed a wall of verdure high above our heads.
We had no provisions with us, and we could not tell whether the region into which we were penetrating was inhabited by hostile Indians or wild beasts and venomous serpents. After going some way, however, the stream widened, and at the same time became shallower; and the mangrove-trees ceasing, we found ourselves in the midst of a dense forest. Looking out anxiously on both sides, we observed a bank which would afford us a small space on which to land; so pulling up to it, we hurriedly sprang on shore. In spite of all our efforts, the boat was nearly half-full of water.
Our first care was to land our baggage, and especially to keep our guns and ammunition dry. We then, having piled our property together, by our united efforts hauled up the boat, and the extent of the damage she had received was soon discovered. A hole had been made through a plank, a portion of which had
also been ripped off. It was a wonder the boat had not filled and gone down. We had no tools—not even a marling-spike to serve as a hammer—with which to repair her. The crew took the matter very coolly, only observing that they wished they had some grog and grub.
“I will try what I can do for you in the way of getting provisions,” said my uncle, “and I hope to be able to shoot some birds, or an animal of some sort; but in the meantime we must endeavour to repair the boat. We can draw some nails from the seats, where they are of less consequence; and we must cut some canvas out of the sail, if we can find no plank to fasten over the hole.”
Encouraged by my uncle, the men set to work to draw some nails out of the stern-sheets with their knives; and we then managed to turn the boat over. The canvas alone, it was evident, would not keep the water out of the boat, even though backed by a piece of one of the bottom boards which was broken off. My uncle, however, after examining the trees in the neighbourhood, found a large one with a smooth bark; in this he made a hole with one of the men’s knives, and immediately a thick white liquid issued from it. Sending for the piece of canvas, he allowed the liquid to flow over it till it had formed a thick, hard cake.
“Now, my lads,” he said, “stick that plaster over the hole, and nail the board tightly over it. I will answer for it that no water gets through, whatever it may do round the edges.”