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Rob Harlow's Adventures: A Story of the Grand Chaco, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. Frightened By False Fires |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. FRIGHTENED BY FALSE FIRES "Naylor--Giovanni--help! help!" cried Brazier. "What have I done?" As in a voice full of agony Brazier uttered these words, the dense smoke from the gun which had hidden Rob for the moment slowly rose and showed the lad lying motionless upon the earth. Shaddy rushed up, dropped upon one knee and raised the boy's head, while with his keen knife held across his mouth he looked sharply round for the South American lion, ready to meet its attack. But the animal was not visible, and it was directly after forgotten in the excitement centred on Rob. "Tear off his clothes! Where is he wounded? No doctor! Run to the boat for that little case of mine. Here, let me come." These words were uttered by Brazier with frantic haste, and directly after he uttered a cry of horror and pointed to Rob's forehead close up amongst the hair, where a little thread of blood began to ooze forth. "That ain't a shot wound," growled Shaddy. "Hi! One of you get some water." One of the boatmen, who had hurried up, ran back toward the stream, and just then Rob opened his lips said peevishly,-- "Don't! Leave off! Will you be quiet? Eh! What's the matter?" As he spoke he thrust Brazier's hand from his head, opened his eyes and looked round. "What are you doing?" he cried wonderingly. "Lower him down, Naylor," whispered Brazier hoarsely; and Shaddy was in the act of obeying, but Rob started up into a sitting position, and then sprang to his feet. "What are you doing, Shaddy?" he cried angrily, as he clapped his hand to his brow, withdrew it, and looked at the stained fingers. "What's the matter with my head?" He threw it back as he spoke, shook it, and then, as if the mist which troubled his brain had floated away like the smoke from Brazier's gun, he cried: "I know; I remember. Oh! I say, Mr Brazier, you haven't shot that poor cat?" "Rob, my boy, pray, pray, pray lie down till we have examined your injuries." "Nonsense! I'm not hurt," cried the lad--"only knocked my head on a stump. I remember now: I caught my right foot in one of those canes, and pitched forward. Where's the cat?" He looked round sharply. "Never mind the wretched beast," cried Brazier. "Tell me, boy: you were not hit?" "But I do mind," cried Rob. "I wouldn't have had that poor thing shot on any account." "Are you hurt?" cried Brazier, almost angrily. "Of course I am, sir. You can't pitch head first on to a stump without hurting yourself. I say, did you hit the cat?" "Then you were not shot?" cried Brazier. "Shot? No! Who said I was?" "Ourai!" shouted the young Italian, with the best imitation he could give of an English hurrah. "Then I have frightened myself almost to death for nothing," cried Brazier. "How dare you pretend that you were shot!" "I didn't," cried Rob angrily, for his smarting head exacerbated his temper. "I never pretended anything. I couldn't help tumbling. You shouldn't have fired." "There, hold your tongue, Mr Rob, sir. It's all right, and instead of you and the guv'nor here getting up a row, it strikes me as you ought both to go down on your knees and be very thankful. A few inches more one way or t'other, and this here expedition would have been all over, and us going back as mizzable men as ever stepped." The guide's words were uttered in so solemn and forcible a way that Brazier took a step or two forward and caught his hand, pressing it firmly as he looked him full in the eyes. Brazier was silent for a few moments, and then, in a voice rendered husky by emotion, he said,-- "You are quite right, Naylor. Thank you, my man, for the lesson. I deserve all you have said, and yet I am thankful at heart for the--" He did not finish his words, but dropped Shaddy's hand, and then turned to Rob and laid his hand upon the boy's shoulder. "Come to the boat, Rob," he said. "I'll sponge and strap up that little cut. Naylor spoke truly. We have much to be thankful for. I ought not to have spoken so harshly to you." "Nor I to have been so cross, sir. It was my head hurt me, and made me speak shortly." "Say no more now, boy. Come and let me play surgeon." "What, for this?" cried Rob, laughing. "It's only a scratch, sir, and doesn't matter a bit." But Brazier insisted, and soon after Rob's forehead was ornamented with a strip of diachylon plaster, and the injury forgotten. The men soon prepared a meal, and the rest of the day was spent in preparing the deer meat to keep in store; the effect of the hot sun being wonderful, the heat drying up the juices and checking the decomposition that might have been expected to succeed its exposure. But it in no case improved the appearance of the boat. Toward evening Brazier did a little collecting, helped by the boys, and later on the latter fished from the boat, with no small success, so that there was no fear of the stores being placed too much under contribution for some days to come. The fishing was brought to a close, and their captives hung over the side in a great bag composed of net, so that they could be kept alive ready for use when required; and this done, Rob turned to Giovanni. "Come ashore, Joe," he said. Brazier looked up sharply from where he was taking notes and numbering his dried specimens of plants. "Where are you going?" he said. "Only to have a bit of a wander ashore," replied Rob. "No, no; be content with your day's work. We shall have some supper soon, and then turn in for a long night's rest. Besides, I don't care for you to go alone." "Very well, sir," said Rob quietly; "only we couldn't go far and be lost. Shall we take Shaddy with us?" "No; I wish you to stay in the boat this evening, and I'm going to call the men on board as soon as they have well made up the fire. There are savage beasts about, and we don't want more trouble than we can help." Rob looked disappointed, but he said nothing, and went right forward to where Shaddy was busy washing out one of the guns; and there the two lads sat, gazing across the green surface of lily leaves, watching the birds which ran to and fro, the gorgeous colouring of the sky, and the many tints reflected by the water where the stream ran winding through. Then, too, there were splashings and plungings of heavy fish, beasts, and reptiles to note, and very little to see, for by the time they had made out the spot where the splash had been made, there was nothing visible but the heaving of the great lily leaves and a curious motion of their edges, which were tilted up by the moving creatures stirring amidst the stems. "Head hurt?" said Joe at last, after a long silence, broken only by the grunts of Shaddy as he rubbed and polished away at the gun-barrel, so as to remove the last trace of damp. "Hurt? No. Only smarts a bit," replied Rob. "Why did you want to go ashore again?" There was no reply. "I didn't; I was too tired. Don't care for much walking in the hot sun. Did you want to shoot?" "No. Wanted to see whether Mr Brazier had shot that poor cat." "Poor cat!" said Joe, derisively: "I wonder whether a mouse calls his enemy a poor cat. Why, the brute could have taken you and shaken you like a rat, and carried you off in its jaws." "Who says so?" retorted Rob, rather warmly. "I do." "And how do you know you were right?" "Well, of course I can't tell whether I'm right," said Joe, "only that's what lions and tigers do." "Seemed as if it was going to, didn't it?" said Rob, who was now growing warm in the defence of the animal. "Why, it was as tame as tame, and I'm going ashore first thing to-morrow morning to track it out and find where it lay down to die. I want its skin, to keep in memory of the poor thing. It was as tame as a great dog." "Won't be very tame 'morrow morning if you find it not dead," growled Shaddy. "Then you don't think it is dead, Shaddy?" cried Rob eagerly. "Can't say nothing about it, my lad. All I know is that Mr Brazier fired two barrels at it, and as the shots didn't hit you they must have hit the lion." "Don't follow," said Rob, with a short laugh. "Couldn't they have hit the ground?" Shaddy rubbed his head with the barrel of the gun he was oiling, and that view of the question took a long time to decide, while the boys smiled at each other and watched him. "Well," said Shaddy at last, "p'raps you're right, Master Rob. If the shots didn't hit the lion they might have hit the ground." "And you did not find the animal, nor see any blood?" "Never looked for neither, my lad. But, tell you what: if you do want his skin I'll go with you in the morning and track him down. I expect we shall find him lying dead, for Mr Brazier's a wonderful shot." "And not likely to miss," said Rob sadly. "But I should like its skin, Shaddy." "And you shall have it, sir, if he's dead. If he isn't he has p'raps carried it miles away into the woods, and there's no following him there." Rob gazed wistfully across the opening now beginning to look gloomy, and his eyes rested on the figures of the boatmen who were busily piling up great pieces of dead wood to keep up the fire for the night, the principal objects being to scare away animals, and have a supply of hot embers in the morning ready for cooking purposes. And as the fire glowed and the shadows of evening came on, the figures of the men stood out as if made of bronze, till they had done and came down to the boat. An hour later the men were on board, the rope paid out so that they were a dozen yards from the shore, where a little grapnel had been dropped to hold the boat from drifting in, and once more Rob lay beneath the awning watching the glow of the fire as it lit up the canvas, which was light and dark in patches as it was free from burden or laden with the objects spread upon it to dry. From the forest and lake came the chorus to which he was growing accustomed; and as the lad looked out through the open end of the tent--an arrangement which seemed that night as if it did nothing but keep out the comparatively cool night air--he could see one great planet slowly rising and peering in. Then, all at once, there was dead silence. The nocturnal chorus, with all its weird shrieks and cries, ceased as if by magic, and the darkness was intense. That is, to Rob: for the simple reason that he had dropped asleep. _ |
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