Jules Verne (20 page)

During this time Dick Sand was reflecting on the proposition which had
been made to them so opportunely, to gain the Farm of San Felice. It
was, as Harris had said, a journey of over two hundred miles, sometimes
through forests, sometimes through plains—a very fatiguing journey,
certainly, because there were absolutely no means of transport.

The young novice then presented some observations to that effect, and
waited for the reply the American was going to make.

"The journey is a little long, indeed," replied Harris, "but I have
there, a few hundred feet behind the steep bank, a horse which I count
on offering to Mrs. Weldon and her son. For us, there is nothing
difficult, nor even very fatiguing in making the journey on foot.
Besides, when I spoke of two hundred miles, it was by following, as I
have already done, the course of this river. But if we go through the
forest, our distance will be shortened by at least eighty miles. Now,
at the rate of ten miles a day, it seems to me that we shall arrive at
the Farm without too much distress."

Mrs. Weldon thanked the American.

"You cannot thank me better than by accepting," replied Harris. "Though
I have never crossed this forest, I do not believe I shall be
embarrassed in finding the way, being sufficiently accustomed to the
pampas. But there is a graver question—that of food. I have only what
is barely enough for myself while on the way to the Farm of San Felice."

"Mr. Harris," replied Mrs. Weldon, "fortunately we have food in more
than sufficient quantity, and we shall be happy to share with you."

"Well, Mrs. Weldon, it seems to me that all is arranged for the best,
and that we have only to set out."

Harris went toward the steep bank, with the intention of going to take
his horse from the place where he had left it, when Dick Sand stopped
him again, by asking him a question.

To abandon the sea-coast, to force his way into the interior of the
country, under that interminable forest, did not please the young
novice. The sailor reappeared in him, and either to ascend or descend
the coast would be more to his mind.

"Mr. Harris," said he, "instead of traveling for one hundred and twenty
miles in the Desert of Atacama, why not follow the coast? Distance for
distance, would it not be better worth while to seek to reach the
nearest town, either north or south?"

"But my young friend," replied Harris, frowning slightly, "it seems to
me that on this coast, which I know very imperfectly, there is no town
nearer than three or four hundred miles."

"To the north, yes," replied Dick Sand; "but to the south—"

"To the south," replied the American, "we must descend as far as Chili.
Now, the distance is almost as long, and, in your place, I should not
like to pass near the pampas of the Argentine Republic. As to me, to my
great regret, I could not accompany you there."

"The ships which go from Chili to Peru, do they not pass, then, in
sight of this coast?" asked Mrs. Weldon.

"No," replied Harris. "They keep much more out at sea, and you ought
not to meet any of them."

"Truly," replied Mrs. Weldon. "Well, Dick, have you still some question
to ask Mr. Harris?"

"A single one, Mrs. Weldon," replied the novice, who experienced some
difficulty in giving up. "I shall ask Mr. Harris in what port he thinks
we shall be able to find a ship to bring us back to San Francisco?"

"Faith, my young friend, I could not tell you," replied the American.
"All that I know is, that at the Farm of San Felice we will furnish you
with the means of gaining the town of Atacama, and from there—"

"Mr. Harris," then said Mrs. Weldon, "do not believe that Dick Sand
hesitates to accept your offers."

"No, Mrs. Weldon, no; surely I do not hesitate," replied the young
novice; "but I cannot help regretting not being stranded a few degrees
farther north or farther south. We should have been in proximity to a
port, and that circumstance, in facilitating our return to our country,
would prevent us from taxing Mr. Harris's good will."

"Do not fear imposing upon me, Mrs. Weldon," returned Harris. "I repeat
to you that too rarely have I occasion to find myself again in the
presence of my compatriots. For me it is a real pleasure to oblige you."

"We accept your offer, Mr. Harris," replied Mrs. Weldon; "but I should
not wish, however, to deprive you of your horse. I am a good walker—"

"And I am a very good walker," replied Harris, bowing. "Accustomed to
long journeys across the pampas, it is not I who will keep back our
caravan. No, Mrs. Weldon, you and your little Jack will use this horse.
Besides, it is possible that we may meet some of the farm servants on
the way, and, as they will be mounted—well, they will yield their
horses to us."

Dick Sand saw well that in making new objections he would oppose Mrs.
Weldon.

"Mr. Harris," said he, "when do we set out?"

"Even to-day, my young friend," replied Harris. "The bad season
commences with the month of April, and it is of the utmost importance
for you to reach the farm of San Felice first. Finally, the way across
the forest is the shortest, and perhaps the safest. It is less exposed
than the coast to the incursions of wandering Indians, who are
indefatigable robbers."

"Tom, my friends," replied Dick Sand, turning to the blacks, "it only
remains for us to make preparations for departure. Let us select, then,
from among the provisions on hand, those which can be most easily
transported, and let us make packs, of which each will take his share."

"Mr. Dick," said Hercules, "if you wish, I shall carry the whole load
very well."

"No, my brave Hercules," replied the novice; "it will be better for us
all to share the burden."

"You are a strong companion, Hercules," then said Harris, who looked at
the negro as if the latter were for sale. "In the markets of Africa you
would be worth a good price."

"I am worth what I am worth," replied Hercules, laughing, "and the
buyers will only have to run well, if they wish to catch me."

All was agreed upon, and to hasten the departure, each went to work.
However, they had only to think of feeding the little troop for the
journey from the sea-coast to the farm, that is to say, for a march of
ten days.

"But, before setting out, Mr. Harris," said Mrs. Weldon, "before
accepting your hospitality, I beg you to accept ours. We offer it to
you with our best wishes."

"I accept, Mrs. Weldon; I accept with eagerness," replied Harris, gayly.

"In a few minutes our breakfast will be ready."

"Good, Mrs. Weldon. I am going to profit by those ten minutes to go and
get my horse and bring it here. He will have breakfasted, he will."

"Do you want me to go with you, sir?" asked Dick Sand.

"As you please, my young friend," replied Harris. "Come; I shall make
you acquainted with the lower course of this river."

Both set out.

During this time, Hercules was sent in search of the entomologist.
Faith, Cousin Benedict was very uneasy indeed about what was passing
around him.

He was then wandering on the summit of the cliff in quest of an
"unfindable" insect, which, however, he did not find.

Hercules brought him back against his will. Mrs. Weldon informed him
that departure was decided upon, and that, for ten days, they must
travel to the interior of the country.

Cousin Benedict replied that he was ready to set out, and that he would
not ask better than to cross America entirely, provided they would let
him "collect" on the way.

Mrs. Weldon then occupied herself, with Nan's assistance, in preparing
a comfortable repast—a good precaution before setting out.

During this time, Harris, accompanied by Dick Sand, had turned the
angle of the cliff. Both followed the high bank, over a space of three
hundred steps. There, a horse, tied to a tree, gave joyous neighing at
the approach of his master.

It was a vigorous beast, of a species that Dick Sand could not
recognize. Neck and shoulders long, loins short, and hindquarters
stretched out, shoulders flat, forehead almost pointed. This horse
offered, however, distinctive signs of those races to which we
attribute an Arabian origin.

"You see, my young friend," said Harris, "that it is a strong animal,
and you may count on it not failing you on the route."

Harris detached his horse, took it by the bridle, and descended the
steep bank again, preceding Dick Sand. The latter had thrown a rapid
glance, as well over the river as toward the forest which shut up its
two banks. But he saw nothing of a nature to make him uneasy.

However, when he had rejoined the American, he suddenly gave him the
following question, which the latter could little expect:

"Mr. Harris," he asked, "you have not met a Portuguese, named Negoro,
in the night?"

"Negoro?" replied Harris, in the tone of a man who does not understand
what is said. "Who is this Negoro?"

"He was the cook on board," replied Dick Sand, "and he has disappeared."

"Drowned, perhaps," said Harris.

"No, no," replied Dick Sand. "Yesterday evening he was still with us,
but during the night he has left us, and he has probably ascended the
steep bank of this river. So I asked you, who have come from that side,
if you had not met him."

"I have met nobody," replied the American; "and if your cook has
ventured alone into the forest, he runs a great risk of going astray.
Perhaps we shall overtake him on the way."

"Yes; perhaps!" replied Dick Sand.

When the two returned to the grotto, breakfast was ready. It was
composed, like the supper of the evening before, of alimentary
conserves, of corned beef and of biscuit. Harris did honor to it, like
a man whom nature had endowed with a great appetite.

"Let us go," said he; "I see that we shall not die of hunger on the
way! I shall not say as much for that poor devil of a Portuguese, of
whom our young friend has spoken."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Weldon, "Dick Sand has told you that we have not seen
Negoro again?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weldon," replied the novice. "I desired to know if Mr.
Harris had not met him."

"No," replied Harris; "so let us leave that deserter where he is, and
think of our departure—whenever you are ready, Mrs. Weldon."

Each took the pack which was intended for him. Mrs. Weldon, assisted by
Hercules, placed herself on the horse, and the ungrateful little Jack,
with his gun strapped on his back, straddled the animal without even
thinking of thanking him who had put that excellent beast at his
disposal. Jack, placed before his mother, then said to her that he
would know how to lead the gentleman's horse very well.

They then gave him the bridle to hold, and he did not doubt that he was
the veritable head of the caravan.

It was not without a certain apprehension—nothing seemed to justify
it, however—that Dick Sand, three hundred steps from the steep bank of
the river, penetrated into the thick forest, the difficult paths of
which he and his companions were going to follow for ten days. On the
contrary, Mrs. Weldon herself, a woman and a mother, whom the perils
would make doubly anxious, had every confidence. Two very serious
motives had contributed to reassure her; first, because this region of
the pampas was neither very formidable on account of the natives, nor
on account of the animals which were found there; next, because, under
the direction of Harris, of a guide so sure of himself as the American
appeared to be, they could not be afraid of going astray.

Here is the order of proceeding, which, as far as possible, would be
observed during the journey:

Dick Sand and Harris, both armed, one with his long gun, the other with
a Remington, kept at the head of the little troop.

Then came Bat and Austin, also armed, each with a gun and a cutlass.

Behind them followed Mrs. Weldon and little Jack, on horseback; then
Nan and Tom.

In the rear, Acteon, armed with the fourth Remington, and Hercules,
with a hatchet in his belt, closed the march.

Dingo went backwards and forwards, and, as Dick Sand remarked, always
like an uneasy dog seeking a scent. The dog's ways had visibly changed
since the "Pilgrim's" shipwreck had cast it on this sea-coast. It
seemed agitated, and almost incessantly it kept up a dull grumbling,
rather lamentable than furious. That was remarked by all, though no one
could explain it.

As to Cousin Benedict, it had been as impossible to assign him an order
of marching as Dingo. Unless he had been held by a string, he would not
have kept it. His tin box strapped to his shoulder, his net in his
hand, his large magnifying glass suspended to his neck, sometimes
behind, sometimes in front, he scampered away among the high herbs,
watching for orthopters or any other insect in "pter," at the risk of
being bit by some venomous serpent.

During the first hour Mrs. Weldon, uneasy, called him back twenty
times. It was no use.

"Cousin Benedict," she finished by saying to him, "I beg you very
seriously not to go far away, and I urge you for the last time to pay
attention to my entreaties."

"Meanwhile, cousin," replied the intractable entomologist, "when I
perceive an insect?"

"When you perceive an insect," replied Mrs. Weldon, "you would do well
to let it go in peace, or you will put me under the necessity of taking
your box away from you."

"Take away my box!" cried Cousin Benedict, as if it were a question of
snatching away his heart.

"Your box and your net," added Mrs. Weldon, pitilessly.

"My net, cousin! And why not my glasses? You will not dare! No; you
will not dare!"

"Even, your glasses, which I forgot. I thank you, Cousin Benedict, for
reminding me that I have that means of making you blind, and, in that
way, forcing you to be wise."