CHAPTER V

A CHANGE OF FORTUNE

David felt sure that he was the most luckless of all persons. So far, about everything had gone wrong. But there must be a turning-point somewhere. It was strange how a single misunderstanding could cause so much confusion.

To make matters worse, regardless of what happened he had to accept the situation in apparent good humor, for he dared not assert himself too strongly. If there had been trouble, he would have been blamed, fairly or unfairly; that had been, almost invariably, his experience. Rather than take a single chance at spoiling this opportunity of a lifetime he would suffer in silence. But when the day came, as it surely would, when he had won his spurs, he would demonstrate that he could direct affairs as well as obey the orders of others.

He had wanted to thrash Rogers; and the American Consul should at least have been told that his duties did not include meddling in other people’s business. As for the gruff captain of the _Aguila_--he should receive his dues when the time came; Mr. Rice would of course make him regret his rude conduct toward his guest.

When David reached his hotel his indignation was still at the boiling point. He must relieve his mind to someone and that person, unfortunately, was the owner of the hotel, for he happened to be the first one he chanced to meet.

He told him the whole episode from beginning to end omitting none of the details. The man listened attentively until the recital was finished. Then he grunted, with an amused expression on his face.

“Hum! I think he did right in not taking you. His orders were clear.”

“Yes, but how about the letter? He said he was leaving in two hours and then went in half an hour.”

“There may have been a reason for the change. If you knew his boss you would not blame him for being careful. Las Palmas is a notorious place. Everyone who can, avoids it. Those who are there are slaves--they are afraid to leave. Rice has the reputation of being the worst character in the country.”

“That’s very interesting,” David retorted. “I am very glad to hear it because I had the idea that all ranch life had become tame and commonplace. It will be great to see a real place--I can hardly wait to get there.”

“And how are you going to get there?” the Brazilian asked with a smile.

“That is the question just now; but, once there, I guess I can look out for myself.”

“You can’t walk. It is many, many kilometers away. And the ranch boats, you say, will not be back in a long time.”

“Right! Still, I will find a way.”

“Let me assure you that you will not. Now listen. You do not know how lucky you are to have escaped that outfit at Las Palmas----”

“And next,” David interrupted, “you will be saying that there is a boat out of here for New York soon and I had better take it.”

The hotel man looked sheepish.

“I thought so,” David continued. “Save yourself any further trouble on my account. You take care of your business and I’ll tend mine. Please remember that.”

Leaving the astonished Brazilian he went to his room and spent the greater part of an hour looking out of the window at the little plaza across the street and--thinking.

“I can’t stay here any longer,” he finally concluded. “If I do I’ll get into a fight and I don’t want to fight. I’ll have to watch my step.”

He packed his belongings, slowly and without paying a great deal of attention to just what he was doing. When he entered the office and asked for his statement the owner of the hotel appeared grieved.

“Why are you leaving now?” he asked. “The boat does not leave until tomorrow.”

David gritted his teeth but smiled.

“I know it. But I am sailing out of here right now. How much is it? I am in a hurry.”

A moment later he stepped out into the street and turned in the opposite direction to which he intended going, knowing that inquisitive eyes were following him. A few blocks away he entered a side street and then came back toward the center of the city. He found one of the smaller inns and secured a room without arousing comment. Now he felt more free to pursue the plan he had formed for, unknown and among disinterested persons, he was more apt to get the help and information he needed. Or at least there would be no interference.

He made no inquiries until late the following morning. Haste or a show of too great eagerness might arouse suspicion. And then, after artfully swinging the conversation he had started with the clerk to hunting and to big game, he casually inquired if it would be possible to hire a launch or boat of any kind for a trip up the river.

Much to his delight he was told that such a thing could be arranged without trouble. There were numerous craft leaving the port daily that would drop him at any of the little colonies or camps situated along the river bank. The clerk even gave him the names of several persons with whom arrangements could be made for such an outing.

To David the future seemed decidedly brighter and not long after he sought the first man on his list. After locating the man--the keeper of a small shop on the Rua Amazonas, and making a trivial purchase, he remarked that he might find it necessary to make a short journey on the river and was looking for a launch he could hire by the hour or day.

The Brazilian was quick to grasp the opportunity.

“My boat is at the disposal of the Senhor,” he said. “It is a good boat, very seaworthy, and does not pitch or roll badly; that is important, for the river is so enormous and storms come up suddenly. Where do you want to go?”

“How much, by the day?” David countered.

“Sixty milreis. I will go with you and run the launch myself.”

David hesitated for a moment, as if pondering the proposition. Sixty milreis equalled twelve dollars.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “your price is pretty high but if the boat is extra good I guess I will take it. I want to start tomorrow.”

“How far do you want to go? I must know on account of the provisions.”

“How far can you go in one day?”

“Eighty or a hundred kilometers.”

“We can make it in a day then.”

“I shall be ready tomorrow, at any time you say,” the Brazilian said with finality.

David could have shouted for joy. At last he had found the way.

“I think an early start is best, don’t you?” he said as calmly as he could. “Six o’clock will be all right. So get everything ready today and then there will be no delays in the morning.”

“Very good. Now, exactly where do you want to go?”

Dark clouds again appeared on David’s horizon.

“To one of the ranches along the river,” he replied quickly.

“Yes, but just where? There are several and how will I know which one is the right one?”

“It makes no difference, as I am paying by the day. If it takes a little over one day I will pay you for two whole days.”

“That part of it is all right. But I am compelled to make out papers for the port officials when I carry passengers.”

“Make them when you get back. Then you will know just what to say.” The situation was desperate for David.

“I could do that,” he said thoughtfully, and again David felt elated. But after a moment the Brazilian continued, “There is only one place on the whole river to which I can take no one.”

“What place is that?” with bated breath.

“Las Palmas. That is the one ranch where a landing is forbidden.”

“Why? That is the very spot I am bound for.”

“I am sorry, but as I said, I cannot take you there. The owner is a foreigner. He is very terrible,” the Brazilian explained. “Nobody dares stop there without a written permit. It is all very mysterious and you should hear the tales that are told about the happenings at Las Palmas.”

David tried to laugh; he felt more like crying.

“It is different in my case,” he stammered. “I am expected there. Arrangements were made by cable for them to meet me here but there was some misunderstanding about the date. You will be taking no chances.”

“You do not know that outfit or you would not talk like that. I will not go.”

“I will give you twice your regular price.”

“Not for a million milreis! What good would they do me after I was full of bullets or poisoned arrows?” The shop-keeper was firm.

“Are they really so bad as all that?” David asked incredulously.

“Worse. Much worse. Once the government threatened to send soldiers there to investigate things and they sent back word to come on with the whole army but to bid it good-bye first for they would never see any part of it again. So you see what kind of people you are dealing with.”

“All right,” David assumed an indifferent air. “If you don’t want my money there are others who do.”

“Yes, Senhor. They are welcome to it.”

Seeing that argument was useless, David took his departure and went to the second man on his list.

The negotiations proceeded smoothly as before until it became necessary to disclose his destination. Then the Brazilian absolutely refused to go any further with the matter. Nor could he be swayed from his determination. He would go anywhere, even to Santa Isabel or the Cassiquiare that connects the Rio Negro with the Orinoco--trips of many weeks’ duration. But to Las Palmas? “Never!” most emphatically.

David was more crestfallen than ever as he went in search of the third man. “There is something very mysterious about all this,” he thought. “If it is really such an awful place I had better keep away from it. But I have to see it first. I can leave if I don’t like it--that is, if I ever get there.”

The interview with launch owner number three was shorter than the other two. This man was gruff, even discourteous, and wanted to know first of all where he wanted to go. And when David told him, he simply shrugged his shoulders, said “No,” and walked away.

There were still others to be seen, but David decided that he had had enough for one day. He walked to the river and looked across the broad expanse of water, ruffled by the breeze, muddy, and gliding along majestically and silently as if fully aware of its awe-inspiring grandeur and power. Where did all that water come from? Where was it going? What secrets were locked up in the pitiless flood? What strange and unknown denizens lurked in its dark depths? And, what treasures were strewn upon the bottom of the bed over which this torrent rushed, heedlessly, relentlessly and everlastingly? Day and night, rain or shine--it was always the same, oblivious to all things save only the fulfilment of some mission on which it was always hurrying, hurrying, yet seemed never to accomplish. Men might come and go--all men might come and go--but what of it? Countless numbers had done that very thing along its unreckoned shores and not a few of them had been engulfed in the heartless waters. Thousands of years old, it was nevertheless young. When other ages had passed there would be still no traces of age or decay. Always the same--always the same.

Such were the thoughts that surged through David’s mind as he gazed at the wide river, with the tiny waves laving his feet. They gave him an uncomfortable feeling such as he had not experienced before. He admired the stream for its enormity and respected its untold might; but he was not so sure that he liked it.

Numbers of dugouts, _batalaos_ and other craft were tied up along the bank. The idea came to him suddenly. If he could not hire a launch, why not take one of these? The trip would require more time and be less comfortable, but these things would be minor considerations.

He approached a group of men near one of the batalaos and asked guarded questions as to the uses to which it was put. And then he swung the conversation to navigation in general on the river; to the country bordering the stream and to kindred topics, and so secured a good deal of information that was of value to him.

He learned, for instance, that the craft was sea-worthy and was used on the longest journeys, frequently of months’ duration. That travelling in a batalao was a slow process unless the wind held out when sails were used to advantage; during the intervals of calm, oars or poles were used and even long-handled hooks to catch in the overhanging vegetation. Last of all, in answer to his question as to whether he could rent or buy such a craft, he was told that it was probably impossible to do either. All of them were owned by the proprietors of rubber concessions or similar ventures, and were employed in their service exclusively, excepting only a few in the possession of professional rivermen; these latter were usually under contract to some _patron_ and were engaged in some private pursuit such as fishing or freighting, which they could not desert.

That was the last straw. As David walked away he began to believe that he should never reach Las Palmas.

“Luck is certainly against me,” he murmured. “I’ll flip a coin to see what I’ll do. If it’s heads I will stay and keep on trying and if it’s tails I’ll--I’ll stay anyway. There must be a way of getting to that place; but I haven’t thought of it. The way will come to me--if I wait long enough.”

And come it did, sooner than he expected. The very next day the opportunity presented itself in the guise of a very large batalao that swept down the river, manned by twenty swarthy oarsmen, and joined the collection of other boats at the landing.

Somehow, that outfit was different from the others. The men did not look like the sailors along the waterfront. They spoke a different language and the Brazilians on shore did not greet them with the usual cries and banterings.

David was interested in the new arrivals at once. “The way to find out things is to ask questions,” he thought. “I will find out about them.”

He did not go to the man in charge of the batalao, but to one of the Brazilians to whom he had spoken on several other occasions.

The boat had come from Venezuela, he learned, by way of the Cassiquiare that connects the Orinoco with the Rio Negro of the Amazon side. The men were Venezuelans and were traders who plied their calling along the great rivers, visiting all the settlements and even the solitary huts, buying native produce and selling provisions, dry goods, hardware and ammunition. They travelled in a leisurely manner and knew more about the rivers and their navigation than any other persons. With them, time was no object and only when their stock of goods was on the verge of exhaustion, or when they had accumulated a cargo of native products to sell, did they make for the nearest market and base of supply. That was why they had come to Manaos now--to dispose of vanilla beans, copaiba oil, gold nuggets and a number of other things and to replenish their supply of trading articles; for now they were going to the rubber camps of the Upper Amazon, this being the season of harvest of that product. To accomplish the double object of their visit would require at least a week, probably two.

Much to his delight, David found that the pilot of the new boat had a fair knowledge of the Portuguese language--better than his own, in fact--and he struck up an acquaintance with him at once; but he did not hurry matters. There was plenty of time to cultivate friendship, and haste might cause him to be suspected of some ulterior motive.

David called at the wharf daily and finally the captain accepted his invitation and returned the visits, even remaining to dinner at the inn. They attended a performance at the Teatro Nacional later and then were firm friends.

When the craft was about ready to depart, ten days later, David suddenly announced to Don Marco, for that was the captain’s name, that he would accompany him on the trip up the river. The latter was at first surprised and then amused; it seemed a joke; but when David insisted that he was in earnest he was pleased. Only one thing puzzled him; he was not equipped to carry passengers. The crew ate almost anything, slept anywhere and shifted for itself.

David assured Don Marco that he should be contented with the same conditions. He expected no special consideration. He would even help with the work if desirable and would go as one of the party.

“If you will do that,” the captain said at last, “I shall certainly be glad to have you. But how will you get back? We may not touch at Manaos again for a year, perhaps longer.”

“That will be all right,” David replied. “You will stop at all the settlements and ranches----”

“Yes. We miss none of them.”

“Then I can stop off at one of them when I have seen enough of the river. It may be in a few days or it may be longer, according to how fast we travel.”

“Splendid. Get your things together and I will send a _mozo_ for them this afternoon. You will need a hammock, a mosquito net, and a blanket. Take anything else you want to.”

David hurried away and purchased the necessary articles. In addition, he also bought chocolate and a few other things he thought would be necessary.

For him the tide had turned. For once he was without misgivings. At last he was about to embark on the great river; it was the beginning of a long voyage, but he was eager to entrust himself to the whims of the mighty stream to be wafted wherever fate decreed--as a chip drifts and eddies in obedience to the unseen forces that control its destiny.

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