Lost in the Wilds of Brazil

A few miles on they came upon another rapids and saw that it would be necessary to lay a portage of logs along the river bank in order to get the boats through. Anxious to make time, they worked untiringly and had the task completed in a short time.

“Now to get the boats through,” said Mr. Holton, beginning to unload their contents.

The canoes were heavy, even with the provisions removed, and it required all the combined strength of the whites and the Indian crew to get them beyond the rough stretch. But the undertaking was finally finished.

Next the provisions were carried around, placed in the boats, and the latter were moved into the river. At last the strenuous task was completed.

“Ready to go again?” asked Joe.

“It’s about noon,” said Professor Bigelow. “I suggest that we get a lunch.”

The others agreed, and an ample repast was prepared.

Then Mr. Lewis advised that they take it easy under low palm trees. The others, with the exception of Bob and Joe, were glad of a chance to repose. The boys, however, were restless and eager to explore the surrounding territory. Unlike their elders, their tireless limbs cried out for action, even after hard labor.

“We’ll be careful and not take any chances,” Joe assured the men.

But had they realized what dangerous country they were in, they would never have started out.

CHAPTER XXI

Magnificent Country

THERE was a rocky hill not far away, and it was Joe who expressed a desire to go over and climb to the top.

“Fairly high,” he remarked. “Ought to be able to get a good view of the surrounding territory.”

“Yes,” Bob agreed. “Maybe we can catch sight of an Indian village in the distance. The unknown tribe! Be fine if we could be the ones to locate it, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure would. Professor Bigelow would be delighted beyond words. Think of the rumpus he’d kick up if we announced that we’d found the savages he’s been hunting.”

It was a distance of less than a half-mile to the foot of the knoll, and the youths made it in a very few minutes. Then they began the task of climbing the jagged side. There was little vegetation to hinder their progress, although twisted vines and shrubs were rather numerous on the ground.

“The undergrowth offers footholds that we could not otherwise find,” said Bob. “Here’s a place where it comes in handy, even though most of the time it’s merely something to avoid.”

At last, panting and perspiring, the youths reached the top of the hill and then turned to glance down below. Jungle, jungle, jungle! Nothing but heavily wooded country stretched before them. As far as the eye could see the great tropical forest loomed up – in green, brown, red. It was as though all the world were covered with dense vegetation. The boys turned about.

On the other side was the river, winding through gulches and hills and stretching out of sight in the distance. Opposite the hill were the boats, and under trees not far away were the explorers resting peacefully in the shade.

It was a spectacular view, and Bob and Joe spent several minutes in silently gazing down.

“No evidence of human habitation anywhere around,” remarked Bob, trying to single out a settlement somewhere in the distance.

In the vast, silent jungle sound travels far, and realizing this, the youths shouted to the others, to let them know of their commanding position.

“Now let’s get down from here and tramp on through the forest,” said Joe, finding a foothold in the heavy soil.

It was necessary to exercise more care in descending, for the rocks were pointed and dangerous to step on. A safe place had to be felt out cautiously.

The youths reached the bottom in a very short time, however, and followed a narrow trail that wound out of sight.

“Be impossible to cut through this jungle if there were no trails of any kind,” said Bob, his keen eyes unable to penetrate the tangled mass of vegetation on either side of them.

“Not without a machete, anyway,” nodded Joe. “Even then it would be a hard job.”

The youths hiked on until they came to a small stream that emptied into the river. They sat down on the bank to take in their surroundings.

On the other side of the stream was a break in the ground that indicated the presence of a gully – how steep, they did not know. They resolved to find out as soon as they had rested.

“Unless,” said Joe, “we can’t get across the creek. Never can tell how many alligators and piranhas have migrated here from the river.”

He picked up a stone and threw it with all his strength into the muddy water, hoping to arouse any life that might be lurking sluggishly out of sight. Once he thought he detected a slight ripple other than that caused by the stone but was not sure.

“Don’t believe I care to wade it,” backed out Bob. “Wouldn’t feel funny to have a toe nipped off by a piranha, or worse yet, to be carried into an alligator’s lair. Suppose we throw a log across for safety.”

They spent several more minutes sitting on the bank in idleness. At last Joe got up and looked about the near-by jungle.

“No logs around here,” he called to Bob, who had wandered along the bank.

Further search was not in vain. A small tree that had been uprooted by a hurricane lay in a patch of bushes not far away, and it was carried to the stream and thrown across. Then the youths began carefully walking along its narrow surface.

Bob reached the other side first, and he warned his friend to be careful. Joe was, and in a few moments also had crossed the log.

“Now let’s see what’s beyond that ravine,” he said.

They walked over to the edge and then halted abruptly, awe-stricken and spellbound at the wonderful panorama that stretched out before them. They were standing at the brink of a two-hundred-foot canyon, which sloped down and back up to form a perfect U. At the very bottom was a large grove of huge red flowers, which added not a little to the beauty of the scene.

“Some view,” breathed Joe, gazing far ahead at the distant jungle.

Bob nodded. “Bet we can see twenty miles or more,” he said. “And nothing but dense jungle.”

The youths spent several more minutes in looking off into space. They could not tear themselves away from the wonderful view. It seemed almost impossible to come suddenly upon such a gulch in a land that seemed fairly level.

At last Bob shouldered his rifle as a signal to move on.

“Can’t spend too much time here if we expect to do any more exploring,” he said, looking at his watch. “They’ll expect us back in another hour.”

“Where’ll we go next?”

“No difference to me. How about down the hill?”

They hiked down the gradual slope of the canyon, although the jungle was in places impenetrable.

When about halfway down, Joe stopped suddenly, his face an ashen gray, his limbs trembling. Bob’s eyes opened wide, and he clutched his rifle tightly.

The next moment there came a horrid hiss, and the thirty-foot anaconda lunged forward.

CHAPTER XXII

Lost in the Wilds of Brazil

THE largest snake of Brazil was about to strike and enfold the youths in its terrible coils. And that could mean but one thing – death in an awful form.

Slowly Bob and Joe raised their rifles and took careful aim at the horrible head. They must not miss. Here, if ever, was a need for accurate shooting.

There came another hiss, and the reptile glided still closer, its wicked eyes gleaming in the sunlight. It was moving stealthily, as if wondering which of the boys to make for.

“Now!” whispered Bob and a second later pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Two rifles spoke, but only one found the mark. It would have been a difficult task for even an expert marksman to strike that small swaying head. And Bob and Joe were not expert marksmen, although the former was much better than the average.

But the bullet had only glanced the top of the head and had done no real damage. The reptile was only more enraged.

“Run!” cried Joe, as he saw that the anaconda was preparing to strike.

“One more shot,” whispered back Bob, again raising his rifle. “I’m afraid we couldn’t get far if we ran.”

Again the rifles spoke, and this time, thanks to the young hunters’ courage, both bullets smashed into the head and shattered it. The great snake thrashed about in its death struggle, the coils describing circles and curves. At last it quieted down and lay still. For the first time it had been defeated.

Bob and Joe waited several minutes for any other signs of life, but none came. They moved up to examine the great body, which lay stretched out over a radius of fifteen feet.

“Thicker than a man’s leg,” observed Joe, who was still unsteady from the terrible encounter.

“An unusually large specimen,” commented Bob. “Think of the excitement our dads would stir up if they could see it.”

“They might take it back to the States,” said Joe. “Only – I doubt if it would be much good to them with the head shattered as it is.”

The boys spent several more minutes in examining the anaconda. Then, unwilling to lose precious time, they started on down the decline. They intended at least to reach the other side before turning back.

“Steep along here,” said Joe, as they came to a rocky edge.

“Couldn’t fall far,” his friend remarked. “The heavy vegetation would catch you before you’d fallen ten feet. But even then I wouldn’t care to lose my balance and come up against a tree.”

The young explorers stumbled on to the bottom and then began the ascent of the opposite side.

Suddenly they heard a vicious snarl and looked back to see that a large, powerful jaguar was poised ready to spring. Its wicked eyes shone like beads as it bared its sharp teeth.

Slowly the youths raised their rifles and took steady aim. Joe was the first to pull the trigger, and a moment later Bob followed.

A part snarl, part whine came from the beast, and it weaved as if going to fall. But it righted itself and then again prepared to spring.

“It’s up to you, Bob,” murmured Joe in a tone that he tried to keep steady. “My rifle’s empty. Can’t get it loaded in time.”

Bob frowned.

A second later he raised his gun to fire, but it caught on a sharp protruding branch and was wrenched from his grasp. With a frightened glance at the huge cat he turned to run, and Joe was at his heels.

The boys well knew that they had little chance of escape in that dense jungle, but they resolved to retreat as fast as their legs would carry them. And the fact that the jaguar was severely wounded gave them courage to run with all the strength they could muster.

“Good thing you got him in the leg,” panted Joe, as they made for a faintly outlined path not far away. “We wouldn’t have had a chance in the world otherwise.”

As Joe said, the boys would have proved no match for the animal’s agility had it not been wounded. Even as it was, they knew that the great cat was gaining rapidly. In no time it would be upon them.

A few yards down, the path branched into several directions. They chose the one to the right, for no reason at all. It offered no better chance of escape than did the others.

“Oh!” groaned Joe, imagining that he could feel the hot breath of the beast. “We can’t keep this up much longer.”

The youths refused to lose heart, however, and continued as rapidly as they could. At several other places the trail branched, and they followed the widest and most clearly defined. They had no notion of where they were going. In fact they did not care, as long as they were outdistancing their terrible enemy.

At last they found it impossible to continue the flight. Their breath gone completely; their hearts were beating like triphammers.

With a sudden movement Bob wheeled about and brought out his hunting knife, just as the jaguar prepared to spring. The great cat lunged forward, bearing the youth to the ground. As he fell, Bob summoned all his strength and plunged the sharp blade of the knife deep into the animal’s side at a point where he judged it would find the heart. His aim was true. With one last cough the beast rolled over and lay still. The knife plus Bob’s courage had proven too much for even its brute strength.

For a time the youth could not speak. At last he managed to blurt out a few almost unintelligible words to Joe, who had been helpless to render aid during the death struggle.

Joe sighed and shook his head. “Another narrow escape!” he breathed, picturing what would have happened had not Bob made use of his hunting knife.

The boys spent only a short time in examining the great cat, for they were anxious to get back to the boats at once.

“Let’s hurry back to camp,” moved Bob, looking at his watch. “We’ve been gone several hours. Doesn’t seem possible, does it?”

But little did the young hunters dream that they were miles from the boats and their elders – that they had unknowingly penetrated deeper and deeper into this dense jungle.

After one last look at the great jaguar, the chums started back down the trail, heading for the boats. They wondered what kind of a reception their fathers would give them after being gone so long.

Ten minutes of constant hiking brought them to a spot where the trail branched into four or five other paths, each winding in a slightly different direction from the others. Which branch should they take to get back to camp?

“Strange,” mused Joe. “I thought sure we could pick out the right branch. But you know we didn’t have much time for thought when that jaguar was chasing us.”

The youths spent fully ten minutes in trying to decide on which trail they had turned out, but in the end they were no more enlightened than they were at the start. They tried to remember some landmark that might be suggestive but could not. The heavy Amazonian jungle had proven too much for their memories.

But they refused to admit that they were beaten, and at last chose the middle trail, as it seemed more like the one they had followed. There was no use giving up without showing fight. They walked on constantly and at last came to another place where the path branched. Here again they were at a loss to know which direction to take.

“Believe it’s the one to the left,” concluded Joe, scratching his head thoughtfully.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” the other said. “But if you think you’re right, we may as well follow it.”

They did follow it. One, two, three miles they hiked. But where was the canyon?

“We’re surely on the wrong course,” said Bob, glancing at his pedometer. “Three miles is farther than we went before. And we haven’t come to the spot where I dropped my gun yet. Suppose we go back and try another trail.”

Joe was willing, and they retraced their footsteps, at last coming to the place where the path branched.

“Suppose we try the one to the right,” suggested Joe, and they did.

But when, after a half-hour’s tramp, they made no more headway than before, they saw the futility of continuing on this trail. Again they went back and took another direction. And again they failed to come to Bob’s rifle. The youths continued the search for several hours, never ceasing. But each time they met with failure. The cruel Brazilian forest was not to be conquered by man.

Finally, exhausted and baffled to the extreme, they sat down on a decaying tree trunk. The stark truth had at last dawned on them. They were lost – lost in the wilds of Brazil!

CHAPTER XXIII

Terrible Cries of Savages

“OH, why did we have to wander so far away!” moaned Joe, rapidly losing his nerve. “We should have known better than to try to penetrate this endless jungle.”

Bob was equally touched, but he resolved to keep up hope. There was no use in tamely submitting to fear so soon. One more search might bring them to the river, and then it would be easy to find the boats.

“We’ll come out all right,” he said, “although I’ll admit we’re in a tight fix.”

The youths rested for nearly a half-hour. Then their strength – and to some extent their hope – restored, they again took up the task of finding the right trail.

Back and forth they hiked, confident that at last they would happen upon it. But search as they did, their efforts were in vain. The cruel Brazilian jungle was not to be conquered by man.

At last, satisfied that nothing could be gained by continuing such efforts, Joe moved that they take one of the other trails in the hope that it would lead them to the river.

“All right,” said Bob. “No use trying to find the one we followed when running from the jaguar.”

Joe had reloaded his rifle, and Bob had placed his hunting knife ready for instant use. They were taking no chances on meeting some formidable jungle beast.

The path that they now followed was wider than the others and consequently was more likely to lead to some definite spot. But neither of the chums was sure that they were heading for the river. It might lead them fifty miles away, for all they knew. Still they hiked on.

“Do you know,” remarked Bob, when another hour had passed, “that I’m beginning to think that these trails were not cut by wild animals! They’re too closely defined. Now take this one, for example. See how wide it is? And look over there. The vegetation’s been cut by a machete.”

Joe grew suddenly pale. He clutched his rifle tighter.

“You mean – savages?” he demanded, at the same time looking sharply about.

“I may be wrong,” Bob said quietly, “but that is my opinion. And as we’re about in the region inhabited by the savage tribe that Professor Bigelow was searching for, it seems that these paths could have been cut by them. What do you think?”

“I’m all too afraid that you’re right,” was the reply. “And we’ll have to be very careful from now on. At the slightest unfamiliar sound we’ll have to hide.”

Bob groaned.

“If I only had my rifle,” he cried. “Or if I had brought my revolver it wouldn’t be quite as bad.”

But there was no use regretting something that could not be helped, and Bob and Joe resolved to meet conditions as they were. Perhaps if it should happen that Indians discovered them, it would be best not to use their weapons except in self-defense. If the natives’ good will could be gained, it would not only help them but be of benefit to Professor Bigelow also.

All the remainder of that afternoon the youths tramped on up the trail, hoping to burst at last upon the river. They were tired and downhearted when finally they stopped by a small spring of cool water. Experience had taught them that in the great majority of cases these jungle springs were ideal drinking places and that only a very few were poisoned. So they drank freely of the refreshing liquid and felt much better for it.

“Better stop here for the night, hadn’t we?” asked Bob, taking in the surrounding country.

“Yes,” his friend replied. “There’s a good place to sleep,” pointing to a large hollow in the ground.

A little later darkness fell suddenly, and with it came the usual chill of the atmosphere. Joe had some matches in a small waterproof box, and he took them out and ignited the dry branches of an uprooted tree. The fire blazed lively up into the black reaches of the jungle, giving off heat that was welcomed by the two chums as they sat close together.

Before retiring, they took account of their weapons and ammunition. Joe’s rifle was the only firearm in their possession, but both boys had a large supply of cartridges that should last a long time. With cautious use they might make them satisfy their needs for several days. But after that? Still there was no use worrying about the future. They could let it take care of itself. At present they were safe.

“I’ll take the first guard,” said Bob, half an hour later. “You turn in and get several hours’ sleep. I’ll call you when the night’s half over.”

Joe grudgingly consented. He had intended to stand watch first.

Bob heaped the fire up high and had a good supply of fuel ready to keep it blazing constantly.

But when ten minutes had passed he smothered it down to half the size it had been. It was not wise to keep it too high, for though it was a sure protection from wild animals, it might attract the attention of hostile Indians.

“Have to prevent that at any cost,” the young man thought.

Bob sat moodily fingering his rifle, gazing into the dark depths of the jungle. From afar came a terrorizing howl of some beast that had fallen victim of a stronger enemy. Shortly later there came another howl of different origin. Then another, another, until the whole jungle rang with fiendish cries.

It was enough to frighten anyone, and Bob stared rather fearfully into the surrounding forest, wondering what tragedies were going on at that moment.

“Probably scores of creatures being killed,” he thought, shifting uneasily.

Nothing happened throughout his watch, and he at last moved over and tapped Joe on the back. The latter jumped to his feet as if shot, and gazed fearfully about, as if expecting to see a band of cannibals rush in on them. But a moment later he smiled sheepishly.

“Guess I was dreaming,” he said, taking his position on a log.

Bob readily sympathized with his chum, for the day had been a strenuous one, and their endurance had been taxed severely.

“We’ll surely find a way out tomorrow,” Bob said, curling up in the hollow.

“Hope so,” was the reply.

Joe’s watch was also devoid of incident, and late the next morning he called the other youth from his slumber.

They were obliged to begin the day without any breakfast, although they were extremely hungry. They could have shot some small animal, but Bob thought it wise to wait until noon.

“By that time,” he said hopefully, “maybe we’ll have found the river – or something else.”

They followed the same trail until Joe stopped and looked about.

“We’re not getting any place as things are,” he said. “Seems to me the river should be over in that direction.”

“I think so too,” agreed Bob. “There should be plenty of branch paths that would take us over there.”

They found one before another five minutes had passed, and turned onto its narrow surface.

“The world’s greatest jungle,” mused Bob, shaking his head.

“Sure is a whopper,” the other agreed. “Wonderful. I had no idea it would have such a wide variety of plants, and that it could be so dense.”

All that morning the boys spent in vainly searching for the river. The trail that they had turned onto continued, but where it would lead to they did not know. It might have gradually circled several miles out of the way.

During that desperate search the chums saw a large number of all types of wild animals, although none happened to be dangerous. Monkeys crowded thickly down to the lowest boughs, small gnawing creatures darted across the path, brightly colored birds flew swiftly overhead. Occasionally the boys could get a glimpse of a snake slinking through the underbrush. It was a wonderful menagerie and could have been enjoyed to the full had they not been in such a terrible plight.

“Do you know,” remarked Bob, his eyes on a small creature, “I believe these animals are used to seeing people.”

Joe looked around inquiringly.

“Now take that small furred creature that just passed,” Bob continued. “Did you notice how wary it seemed? One glance at us was enough to send it running back at full speed. They never did that before. Now here’s what I think: we’re in a country inhabited either by rubber gatherers or Indians. Why rubber gatherers would be so far from civilization I don’t know, unless – ”

“I don’t think they would be,” interrupted Joe. “We didn’t come across any boat that they might have come in. And of course they wouldn’t have come all these hundreds of miles by land.”

“Then it’s Indians. Savages, cannibals, maybe, for all we know. It’s their bows and arrows that have scared these wild animals out of their wits.”

The youths knew not what to make of the situation. There could easily be Indians in this region, for Professor Bigelow was almost sure they were near the strange savage tribe that Otari told about. But how the natives would treat these two lone whites was a mystery. If there should be a battle the youths knew that their rifle could be relied upon only as long as the supply of cartridges lasted. Then they would be compelled to surrender.