Clair, as a splendidly-colouredbut hideous large snake hissed and glided awayfrom between his feet. "Ugh! had I tramped onthat fellow my prospecting would have been all ended."
"True, sir," said Jake; "but about the quartz?"
"Well, Jake."
"Well, Mr. St. Clair, there is gold here. I do notsay that we've struck an El Dorado, but I amcertain there is something worth digging for in thisregion."
"Shall we try? You've been in Australia. Whatsay you to a shaft?"
"Good! But a horizontal shaft carried into thebase of this hill or hummock will, I think, do for thepresent. It is only for samples, you know."
And these samples had turned out so well thatSt. Clair, after claiming the whole hill, determinedto send Jake on a special message to Pará to establisha company for working it.
He could take no more labour on his own head, for really he had more than enough to do with hisestate.
No white men were allowed to work at the shaft.Only Indians, and these were housed on the spot.So that the secret was well kept.
And now the voyage down the river was to beundertaken, and a most romantic cruise it turned outto be.
St. Clair had ordered a steamer to be built for himin England and sent out in pieces. She was calledThe Peggy, after our heroine. Not very large-butlittle over the dimensions of a large steam-launch,in fact-but big enough for the purpose of towingalong the immense raft with the aid of the current.
Jake was to go with his samples of golden sandand his nuggets; Burly Bill, also, who was captainof the Peggy; and Beeboo, to attend to the youngstersin their raft saloon. Brawn was not to be denied; and last, but not least, went wild Dick Temple.
The latter was to sleep on board the steamer, buthe would spend most of his time by day on the raft.
All was ready at last. The great raft was floatedand towed out far from the shore. All the plantationhands, both whites and Indians, were gathered on thebanks, and gave many a lusty cheer as the steamerand raft got under way.
The last thing that those on shore heard was thesonorous barking of the great wolf-hound, Brawn.
There was a ring of joy in it, however, that broughthope to the heart of both Tom St. Clair and hiswinsome wife.
Well, to our two heroes and to Peggy, not tomention Brawn and Burly Bill, the cruise promisedto be all one joyous picnic, and they set themselves tomake the most of it.
But to Jake Solomons it presented a more seriousside. He was St. Clair's representative and trustedman, and his business was of the highest importance, and would need both tact and skill.
However, there was a long time to think about allthis, for the river does not run more than three milesan hour, and although the little steamer could hurrythe raft along at probably thrice that speed, still longweeks must elapse before they could reach their destination.
As far as the raft was concerned, this would notbe Pará. She would be grounded near to a town farhigher up stream, and the timber, nuts, spices, andrubber taken seaward by train.
In less than two days everyone had settled down tothe voyage.
The river was very wide and getting wider, andsoon scarcely could they see the opposite shore, exceptas a long low green cloud on the northern horizon.
Life on board the raft was for a whole weeka most uneventful dreamy sort of existence. Oneday was remarkably like another. There was theblue of the sky above, the blue on the river's greatbreast, broken, however, by thousands of lines ofrippling silver.
There were strangely beautiful birds flying tackand half-tack around the steamer and raft, wavingtrees flower-bedraped-the flowers trailing andcreeping and climbing everywhere, and even dipping theirsweet faces in the water, – flowers of every hue of therainbow.
Dreamy though the atmosphere was, I would nothave you believe that our young folks relapsed intoa state of drowsy apathy. Far from it. They werevery happy indeed. Dick told Peggy that their life,or his, felt just like some beautiful song-waltz, andthat he was altogether so happy and jolly that hehad sometimes to turn out in the middle watch to laugh.
Peggy had not to do that.
In her little state-room on one side of the cabin, andin a hammock, she slept as soundly as the traditionaltop, and on a grass mat on the deck, with a footstoolfor a pillow, slumbered Beeboo.
Roland slept on the other side, and Brawn guardedthe doorway at the foot of the steps.
Long before Peggy was awake, and every morningof their aquatic lives, the dinghy boat took the boysa little way out into mid-stream, and they strippedand dived, enjoyed a two-minutes' splash, and gotquickly on board again.
The men always stood by with rifles to shoot anyalligator that might be seen hovering nigh, and morethan once reckless Dick had a narrow escape.
"But," he said one day in his comical way, "onehas only once to die, you know, and you might aswell die doing a good turn as any other way."
"Doing a good turn?" said Roland enquiringly.
"Certainly. Do you not impart infinite joy to acayman if you permit him to eat you?"
The boys were always delightfully hungry half anhour before breakfast was served.
And it was a breakfast too!
Beeboo would be dressed betimes, and have the clothlaid in the saloon. The great raft rose and fell witha gentle motion, but there was nothing to hurt, sothat the dishes stuck on the cloth without any guard.
Beeboo could bake the most delicious of scones andcakes, and these, served up hot in a clean white towel, were most tempting; the butter was of the best andsweetest. Ham there was, and eggs of the gull, with fresh fried fish every morning, and fragrantcoffee.
Was it not quite idyllic?
The forenoon would be spent on deck under theawning; there was plenty to talk about, and booksto read, and there was the ever-varying panorama togaze upon, as the raft went smoothly gliding on, andon, and on.
Sometimes they were in very deep water close tothe bank, for men were always in the chains takingsoundings from the steamer's bows.
Close enough to admire the flowers that drapedthe forest trees; close enough to hear the wild lilt ofbirds or the chattering of monkeys and parrots; closeenough to see tapirs moving among the trees, watched, often enough, by the fierce sly eyes of ghastlyalligators, that flattened themselves against rocks or bitsof clay soil, looking like a portion of the ground, but warily waiting until they should see a chance toattack.
There cannot be too many tapirs, and there cannotbe too few alligators. So our young heroes thoughtit no crime to shoot these squalid horrors whereverseen.
But one forenoon clouds banked rapidly up in thesouthern sky, and soon the sun was hidden in sulphurousrolling banks of cumulus.
No one who has ever witnessed a thunderstorm inthese regions can live long enough to forget it.
For some time before it came on the wind had gonedown completely. In yonder great forest there couldnot have been breeze or breath enough to stir thepollen on the trailing flowers. The sun, too, seemedshorn of its beams, the sky was no longer
