The Young Llanero: A Story of War and Wild Life in Venezuela

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Indian asked time to consider the subject; and while we talked on among ourselves, he retired to a short distance. He soon returned, and expressed his readiness to act as the padre might wish. The arrangement was finally concluded, and our friend promised to join us in the morning. At all events, in his present costume there was little danger of his being recognised, and he would run no more risk than would any of us. He preferred returning to his nest for the night, especially as he had left a book and a few other articles there. That book, he told us, was the Bible, which had of late become his constant study.

The evening’s rest had greatly restored my mother, and we hoped to be able to start early the next morning. A watch was set, as usual; and two large fires were kept up, which would scare any wild beasts, though they might not prove any impediment to the approach of snakes. Still, the flames would enable the person on guard to see them; and we had three or four long sticks cut, ready to attack them, should any be discovered.

The night passed away quietly; and the moment day broke, all hands were called up, and we breakfasted on the remains of the wild ducks and opossum. As soon as breakfast was over the fires were extinguished, and the embers scattered, so that no one coming that way might ascertain how lately we had left the spot. My mother and sister having mounted their horses, and the nurses and children being placed on their mules, we moved forward, looking out as we went along for the padre and his servant. We had not gone far when a voice hailed us from behind some thick shrubs; and presently our friend appeared—so completely disguised, that had I not examined his features I should not have recognised him. His hat was stuck jauntily on one side, sufficiently low down to conceal his shorn crown; and a gaily-coloured handkerchief, which a West Indian negro would have envied, was tied in a bow round his throat. His coat was braided and slashed; his breeches were ornamented with tags and laces, and open at the knees, showing his stout calves encased in leathern leggings; while in a sash round his waist was stuck a long dagger and a brace of pistols. Candela followed, carrying a biggish bundle hung to the end of a pole (which he balanced on his shoulder), with a long stick in his hand, and a machete secured in his waist-belt.

After greeting us, the padre whispered to me,—“I am not so warlike as I look, for my pistols are unloaded,—since I have neither powder nor shot,—and one of them is destitute of a lock. My dagger, however, is sharp; and I can use my stick to some purpose.”

I told him that we could supply him with a rifle, and spare him some ammunition for his serviceable pistol, should there be any probability of our being compelled to fight.

“Depend on me; I will not hang back if we have to defend ourselves,” he answered. “I have no love for lighting; but in this case it is lawful and right—of that I am assured.”

The padre walked along far more actively than I had expected; and we were glad to have our party strengthened by such sturdy allies as he and his man Candela.

The forest through which we were proceeding extended some way up the side of the mountains, with only two or three paths running across it at right angles to our course. As these were in some sense highways, and people might be traversing them—perhaps enemies—we passed by them as rapidly as possible, so that we might avoid the risk of encountering any one. As Kanimapo knew when we were approaching one of these paths, he went some way ahead and looked up and down, to ascertain whether any one was travelling along it.

We had halted for this purpose, when he came back and said that he had seen a person on a mule coming from the south, and urging his beast on at a rapid rate. He advised us to remain concealed till the traveller had passed; not that, being alone, he could do us any harm, but he might betray us to our enemies.

Being near the path, I was tempted to creep forward to see who the stranger was. I had moved a few paces, when I heard a bark; and presently a dog came rushing towards me, barking furiously, and apparently with the intention of flying at my throat. I might easily have shot the animal; and I was lifting my weapon, in case it should be necessary to fire, when I recognised my old acquaintance Jumbo.