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Old Gold; or, The Cruise of the "Jason" Brig, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 35. Night In The Canon |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. NIGHT IN THE CANON There was a murmur of approval all through the boat, and soon after the lines were made fast ashore, and Brace was one of the first to climb up to the level shelf the captain had marked out. From here he could command a view of the river banks for quite a mile before the narrow canon curved, and they loveliness of the place was so surpassing that he stood speechless, forgetting everything in the beauty of the scene, green and golden in the level rays of the sun, with every here and there the shadows deepening into violet. Brace started as if out of a waking dream as a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he turned to face Briscoe. "What can you see?" said the latter, in a low voice. For answer Brace simply pointed along the canon, and the American took a long look in silence before venturing to speak again. "Yes," he said slowly; "very pretty, but I'm not a very sentimental man. One minute I feel as if I should like to live here, and the next I feel certain it would be too dull. Can't see any more signs of the Indians, can you?" "No," said Brace. "What sort of a place have you got here? Oh! that's all right; quite a cavern there. Do splendidly for Dan and the boys to make the fire in, out of sight, for we don't want it to bring down strangers upon us. Let's have a look." Brace had not noticed any cavern, but now his attention was drawn to it he saw at the back of the shelf that there was a broad rift in the cliff, some ten or a dozen feet wide and seven or eight high, while upon entering it was to find that they could look forward into darkness of unknown depth, while the roof seemed to rise as it receded. "Looks big," said Briscoe, raising his gun as if to fire. "You had better not shoot," said Brace, laying his hand upon his companion's arm. "It would raise echoes all along the canon, and perhaps bring down the Indians." "Quite right; but let's see what's here. Might be a jaguar or something of that kind. Aha, there! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!" The cry ran echoing into the chasm far enough, and was followed by the sound as of a rushing wind approaching them. Directly after a cloud of largish birds, somewhat like the British nightjar in appearance, came swooping by, separating as soon as they were outside, and making for the forest patches across the canon. "Do you know them?" said Briscoe, turning round to Brace. "No: some kind of bird that goes to roost there, I suppose." "Yes; they roost and breed and live there," said Briscoe. "They're night-birds, and we've started them before their usual feeding-time. Those are the South American oil-birds." "Yes, I remember," cried Brace. "They breed in the caves round Trinidad, I've read." "That's right. Well, we don't want to try whether they're good to eat. This way, my lads," he continued, as Dan and three of the men came up to make the fire and start cooking. "Make your kitchen right in here." This was done, and soon after, as the night fell, the interior of the cave glowed brightly, showing something of its dimensions, and that it extended far into the mountain. The question was discussed whether it would not be wise to make it their resting-place for the night, affording as it did a roomy shelter such as would make a very welcome change for people who had been cramped up so long in the narrow dimensions of the boats. But the captain objected, wisely enough, to leaving his boats entirely unguarded, so a compromise was come to, and it was decided that half of each boat's party were to remain below, while the others took possession of the cavern. The settling of the boats close in shore beneath some overhanging bushes occupied some little time, as well as the carrying up of the necessaries required by those who were to sleep above. By that time Dan's frizzled legs, wings, and slices of bird had been made ready for consumption, and he and his mates worked hard to supply the hungry party. At length, all were satisfied, and they divided to seek their resting-places for the night, Sir Humphrey electing to keep the captain and the first mate company in the boats, while Brace, Briscoe, and Lynton were to rest in the cavern with half of the crew. As a matter of course, everyone who remained on shore was provided with weapons, and they all sat together chatting till the fire gradually died out and the sailors stretched their limbs with a grunt of satisfaction upon the soft dry sand which formed the floor of the cave. "What do you say to a quiet smoke on the shelf outside, Lynton?" said Briscoe. "I'm as willing as willing, for I don't feel at all sleepy yet," was the answer. "Yes: let's have a look at the stars and the river before we lie down," said Brace; and they strode quietly out till they were at the extreme edge of the shelf, with the black darkness below them and the river sparkling and spangled with the reflections of the stars which glowed brilliantly in a long wide band overhead, the cliffs cutting off a vast amount of the great arch. "I'm glad that fire's well out," said Briscoe quietly, as he looked back. "Indians are not very likely to be about at night, but if a canoe were coming along the river and the paddlers saw a fire up there, you may depend upon it they would land to see what was the matter." "That's for certain," said Lynton. "Do you think it likely that those chaps we ran down belong to the same tribe as those we saw in the canoe yonder before we landed?" "It's hardly likely," said Briscoe. "I fancy the natives of these regions are cut up into little bits of tribes scattered here, there, and everywhere about the forest." "Pst! Be quiet a minute," said Brace, and all listened. "What is it?" asked Briscoe, at the end of a minute. "I heard a peculiar noise while you were speaking, but it is still now." "Birds--night-birds," said Briscoe. "Our friends of the cavern grumbling because we've turned them out." "Oh, no; I don't fancy it was that," said Brace hurriedly. "It sounded like human voices singing in chorus." "Our fellows below in the boat," said Lynton, "only they wouldn't be singing." "Oh, no; it was not that," said Brace. "Might be anything," said Briscoe, yawning. "Frogs, perhaps, down by the water-side." "No: I'm pretty well used to the night sounds we hear," said Brace impatiently. "Ah, there it is: listen." He was silent, and as if reflected from the cliff there came a low musical sound, very soft and sweet, and, as he said, as if many voices were raised far away in a kind of chorus which reverberated from the sides of the canon, reaching in a soft murmur to where they stood listening. "H'm!" ejaculated Briscoe, after listening till the sound died softly away. "Can't be any band having a concert on the next street." "And I should say it isn't a boating party returning down the river from an outing, singing glees," said Lynton. "I've heard of singing-fish," said Brace. "There's not likely to be anything of that kind in the river, is there?" "No," replied Lynton decidedly. "I've heard them out at sea sometimes, when we've been in a calm among the islands." "More like to be a kind of frog," put in Briscoe. "There are some which whistle and pipe in chorus very softly; but--" The sound came swelling down the canon more loudly, and the speaker stopped short to listen, till the tones once more died away. "That's not frogs in chorus," said Briscoe decisively. "Anyone would think there was an abbey somewhere near, and the nuns were singing hymns; only it's impossible, of course." "Impossible, of course," said Brace softly. "There: it is gone again." The three men stood listening and straining their ears in the direction from which the sounds had come, but there was a faint whispering as of running water down below, a trickling gurgle, and then startlingly loud came the nasal _quant_ of some night-heron at the water's side. This was answered twice at a distance, while again and again overhead there was the flutter and swish of wings, probably those of the oil-birds circling about the mouth of the cavern. "It's all over," said Briscoe at last, "and it's night-birds of some kind, I believe. Here, I've been listening so intently that I've forgotten my cigar. I'll go in and light it again with one of the bits of smouldering wood." He left his two companions, and they heard his footsteps as he went softly into the cavern to reach the fire. "Does it make you feel queer like, Mr Brace?" whispered Lynton. "Well, it sets me wondering, and makes me a little uncomfortable as to what the sound can be," replied Brace. "So it does me, sir. Always makes me feel queer if I don't understand what a noise is. I'm a bit of a coward, I'm afraid." "I've never seen any signs of it yet, Lynton," said Brace, laughing softly. "Oh, but I am, sir. That sound made me feel hot and then cold. I say, I've lost count about the points of the compass, but that's plain enough yonder across and up the river. That's the east, and the moon coming up." "That?" said Brace, as he gazed in the direction named. "Yes, I suppose so. It will be very beautiful when the moon rises over the mountain there and lights up the great canon. I feel disposed to wait till it shines on the river." "Moon!" said Briscoe, who had returned unheard, smoking vigorously, and looking in the darkness as if a firefly were gliding to their side. "We shan't see the moon to-night. It must have set a couple of hours ago." "Of course," said Brace, "and that can't be the east. I should say it's the west." "What, where that--I say, what light is that over there?" "Yes, what can it be?" said Brace, as he gazed at the soft glow. "It can't be a forest fire." "No: if it were we should see clouds of smoke between us and the stars, and they're clear right down to the top of the mountain. Why, Brace, there must be a volcano here, and that's the reflection from the glowing lava. I've seen something like that in the Sandwich Islands." "I'll go and tell my brother," said Brace. "No; perhaps he's asleep, and it would be awkward for him to get up here in the dark." "And you couldn't get him up in time," said Lynton. "Look: it's dying out fast. There: it's gone now." "Yes," said Brace, in a very low whisper. "How strange!" "Sort of afterglow," muttered Briscoe; "only it's a long time after the sunset. Well, gentlemen, I'm for bed. The scene is over and the lights are out. What do you say?" Brace said nothing, but he followed his companion into the cave and sleep came soon after--the sound, easy sleep enjoyed in the open air, for the night breeze played softly in at the open mouth of the cave, and there was nothing to disturb the party till the fire began to crackle soon after daybreak. _ |
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