Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; South America -- Fiction
"You heard what Monella said last night, that he hoped to-day or
to-morrow would see the end of this work. Supposing, as I expect, that
we find that we merely run against inaccessible cliff, I want to know
what you intend to do. To attempt to work either to right or to left,
along the foot of the rock, in the hope of finding an opening would
be, I feel convinced, a mere wild-goose chase, and would lead us only
farther into this hateful forest, and uselessly prolong our stay in it.
Now, Leonard, is it agreed that the thing is to end when we get to the
cliff? I've asked you again and again as to this, but you always put me
off."
"I put it off--till the time comes for deciding about it; that's
all, you old grumbler. What is the use of talking before we see how
Monella's calculations come out?"
"If I grumble, as you call it, it is because I am anxious for others.
I gave a solemn promise before I left my poor old mother that I would
not rush into any obvious and unnecessary danger; any danger, that is,
beyond the ordinary risks of travel in a country like Guiana. Now----"
"Well, what dangers have we courted that are beyond the 'ordinary risks
of travel,' as you call them?" Elwood demanded cheerfully. "We have
come safely through forests and plains thus far, and now we are in
another forest----"
"Yes, but what a forest! I have been, as you know, pioneering in the
furthermost recesses of Brazil and Peru; I know a little--just a
_little_--you will allow, of wild life; but never have I seen the like
of this wood! No wonder the Indians shun and fear it; indeed, it is a
marvel to me how Monella ever induced them to enter upon this work,
and it is still more wonderful how he has managed to keep them from
deserting him. Heaven knows what we have experienced of the place is
enough to try the courage of the best--the most ferocious 'tigers,' the
biggest serpents of one sort ever dreamed of, and the more deadly and
more fiercely aggressive venomous ones; strange creatures that one can
only catch glimpses of and can never see; sounds so weird and unnatural
that even the Indians can offer no explanation. That great serpent,
alone, fills me with a continual cold horror. We never know where it
may be lurking; it may make a rush at one of us at any moment, and what
chance would one have with such a beast? What consolation, to think it
would probably get a bullet through its head from one of us, if, while
that was being done, it crushed another to a jelly?"
"Your old horror and dislike of serpents make you nervous, old boy.
I wish you could get over it. In all else, you know, you are as bold
as--as--well, as Monella himself; and that is saying a lot, isn't it?
You must admit that, if our enterprise has its dangers, we have a
leader who knows what he is doing."
"A splendid fellow! but--a dreamer--or--a madman!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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