We then explained that the Indian intended to carry over several ropes, and that, consequently, some of the contingencies could not occur.
“That one might happen, would be quite sufficient to make the passage disagreeable,” observed the doctor; “so I heartily hope that we may not have to cross.”
Our friend Kanimapo was indefatigable; he was evidently very proud of the confidence placed in him, and he showed that he was fully equal to the responsibilities he had assumed. He was employed all day—either in shooting birds or monkeys, of which there were several species in the woods, or in watching the approach to the valley of the cavern. The horses and mules could not get to the upper valley, but there was ample pasturage below the second waterfall, in a spot where they might remain concealed; the only risk being that a jaguar might find them out.
“Those brutes roam everywhere,” observed Kanimapo—“over mountains and across plains; and they often come into these higher regions in search of deer, so that we must be on our guard against them. It will be necessary, therefore, either to leave your white slave,” (Tim would have strongly disapproved of being so designated,) “or Chumbo, or Candela, to watch them.”
Another day passed, and Tim and Chumbo not appearing, we began to feel very anxious about them. In other respects, we had every reason to be contented with our lot; the woods produced various wild fruits, which were now in perfection, we had as much game as we required, and the padre and Candela caught an ample supply of fish. The doctor was engaged in botanising and studying various branches of natural history; and my father was thankful that his family were in comparative safety. Perhaps I felt our retirement from the world more than any one else, as I longed to be taking part in the task to which I had pledged myself,—of aiding in the liberation of my country.
Kanimapo at last expressed his surprise that Tim and the mules had not arrived; and assuring us that we should be perfectly safe provided we remained in the valley, he left us, saying that he would go in search of them.
Another day passed, and as neither the Indian nor Tim appeared, Gerald and I agreed to go down the valley, in case they might have missed each other, and Tim should have found his way to the spot to which he had been directed. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the vegetation on the banks of the stream, or the magnificence of the trees which here and there shot up in this oasis among the mountains; while its elevated position gave it a far more temperate and refreshing atmosphere than that to which we were accustomed even in our own district. Our scanty supply of powder made us refrain from shooting any of the numberless birds we saw fluttering amid the trees or skimming along the surface of the water. Among them were several species of beautiful humming-birds, which, as they darted here and there, glittered like gems in the air. Gerald told me that Norah and he were so delighted with the valley, that they intended to try and persuade our father to migrate to it, and build a house where we might all live in happy seclusion from the world.
“You have forgotten that it would be somewhat difficult to obtain supplies in such a sequestered home; and still more so to send the produce of our industry to market,” I observed. “It might do very well for a summer retreat, but I suspect that we should grow very tired of it were we to attempt to live here all the year round.”
We had now reached the end of the valley, and were venturing beyond the boundaries prescribed by our Indian friend, so I proposed turning back.
“Let us go on a little farther,” said Gerald. “I caught a glimpse of an animal through the trees, but we shall get a better sight of it directly.”