Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen BessCollingwood, Harry
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Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen Bess
Collingwood, Harry
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
But it was not until they had been journeying a full month, after their
escape from the Mayubuna, that their next really important adventure
befell. They had by this time climbed upward out of the low, hot,
tropic forest region, and had attained an altitude at which the climate
might almost be described as temperate, where, while the days were still
distinctly hot, the nights were cool, sometimes even to the extent of
sharpness, and where dense morning-fogs were frequent at that particular
period of the year. Those fogs were the cause of much inconvenience and
delay to the pair; for they could neither hunt nor travel in a fog, the
result being that they were frequently obliged to remain in camp until
eight or nine o'clock in the morning, instead of resuming their journey
at daybreak, as had heretofore been their custom.
Such was the case on the particular morning when the young Englishmen
encountered their next important adventure. The sun had been above the
horizon nearly two hours when at length the dense fog which had
enveloped their camp cleared sufficiently to permit of their proceeding
upon their journey, but it still hung about here and there in heavy
wreaths, motionless in the still morning air, when they quite
unexpectedly came upon one of the old Peruvian roads constructed by the
Incas. This road bore evidences of having at one time been a
magnificent highway; but under the rule of the Spaniards it had been
neglected until now it was little more than a sandy track over which
Nature was fast resuming her sway. But it happened to lead in
approximately the right direction for the Englishmen, and heavy as was
the travelling over it, it was less laborious than toiling over a rough,
trackless country, they therefore promptly decided to follow it so long
as it ran their way.
About a mile from the spot where our two travellers came upon the road
it entered a dense wood; and here the fog still hung thickly. But the
friends decided that this was of little consequence, since the road,
though its surface was broken up and much overgrown, was still easily
distinguishable; accordingly they plunged into the wood without
hesitation. A quarter of an hour later, as they rounded a bend in the
road, they made the exceedingly unwelcome discovery that they had walked
right into the midst of a party of some fifty Spanish soldiers who,
having recently partaken of breakfast, were now resting by the roadside
until the fog should clear.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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