Jules Verne (13 page)

At Loreto there also live a few Peruvian soldiers and two or three
Portuguese merchants, trading in cotton stuffs, salt fish, and
sarsaparilla.

Benito went ashore, to buy, if possible, a few bales of this smilax,
which is always so much in demand in the markets of the Amazon. Joam
Garral, occupied all the time in the work which gave him not a moment's
rest, did not stir. Yaquita, her daughter, and Manoel also remained on
board. The mosquitoes of Loreto have a deserved reputation for driving
away such visitors as do not care to leave much of their blood with the
redoubtable diptera.

Manoel had a few appropriate words to say about these insects, and they
were not of a nature to encourage an inclination to brave their stings.

"They say that all the new species which infest the banks of the Amazon
collect at the village of Loreto. I believe it, but do not wish to
confirm it. There, Minha, you can take your choice between the gray
mosquito, the hairy mosquito, the white-clawed mosquito, the dwarf
mosquito, the trumpeter, the little fifer, the urtiquis, the harlequin,
the big black, and the red of the woods; or rather they make take
their choice of you for a little repast, and you will come back hardly
recognizable! I fancy these bloodthirsty diptera guard the Brazilian
frontier considerably better than the poverty-stricken soldiers we see
on the bank."

"But if everything is of use in nature," asked Minha, "what is the use
of mosquitoes?"

"They minister to the happiness of entomologists," replied Manoel; "and
I should be much embarrassed to find a better explanation."

What Manoel had said of the Loreto mosquitoes was only too true. When
Benito had finished his business and returned on board, his face and
hands were tattooed with thousands of red points, without counting some
chigoes, which, in spite of the leather of his boots, had introduced
themselves beneath his toes.

"Let us set off this very instant," said Benito, "or these wretched
insects will invade us, and the jangada will become uninhabitable!"

"And we shall take them into Para," said Manoel, "where there are
already quite enough for its own needs."

And so, in order not to pass even the night near the banks, the jangada
pushed off into the stream.

On leaving Loreto the Amazon turns slightly toward the southwest,
between the islands of Arava, Cuyari, and Urucutea. The jangada then
glided along the black waters of the Cajaru, as they mingled with the
white stream of the Amazon. After having passed this tributary on
the left, it peacefully arrived during the evening of the 23d of June
alongside the large island of Jahuma.

The setting of the sun on a clear horizon, free from all haze, announced
one of those beautiful tropical nights which are unknown in the
temperate zones. A light breeze freshened the air; the moon arose in the
constellated depths of the sky, and for several hours took the place of
the twilight which is absent from these latitudes. But even during this
period the stars shone with unequaled purity. The immense plain seemed
to stretch into the infinite like a sea, and at the extremity of the
axis, which measures more than two hundred thousand millions of leagues,
there appeared on the north the single diamond of the pole star, on the
south the four brilliants of the Southern Cross.

The trees on the left bank and on the island of Jahuma stood up in sharp
black outline. There were recognizable in the undecided
silhouettes
the trunks, or rather columns, of
"copahus,"
which spread out in
umbrellas, groups of
"sandis,"
from which is extracted the thick and
sugared milk, intoxicating as wine itself, and
"vignaticos"
eighty
feet high, whose summits shake at the passage of the lightest currents
of air. "What a magnificent sermon are these forests of the Amazon!" has
been justly said. Yes; and we might add, "What a magnificent hymn there
is in the nights of the tropics!"

The birds were giving forth their last evening notes—
"bentivis,"
who hang their nests on the bank-side reeds;
"niambus,"
a kind of
partridge, whose song is composed of four notes, in perfect accord;
"kamichis,"
with their plaintive melody; kingfishers, whose call
responds like a signal to the last cry of their congeners;
"canindes,"
with their sonorous trumpets; and red macaws, who fold their wings in
the foliage of the
"jaquetibas,"
when night comes on to dim their
glowing colors.

On the jangada every one was at his post, in the attitude of repose.
The pilot alone, standing in the bow, showed his tall stature, scarcely
defined in the earlier shadows. The watch, with his long pole on
his shoulder, reminded one of an encampment of Tartar horsemen. The
Brazilian flag hung from the top of the staff in the bow, and the breeze
was scarcely strong enough to lift the bunting.

At eight o'clock the three first tinklings of the Angelus escaped from
the bell of the little chapel. The three tinklings of the second and
third verses sounded in their turn, and the salutation was completed in
the series of more rapid strokes of the little bell.

However, the family after this July day remained sitting under the
veranda to breathe the fresh air from the open.

It had been so each evening, and while Joam Garral, always silent, was
contented to listen, the young people gayly chatted away till bedtime.

"Ah! our splendid river! our magnificent Amazon!" exclaimed the young
girl, whose enthusiasm for the immense stream never failed.

"Unequaled river, in very truth," said Manoel; "and I do not understand
all its sublime beauties. We are going down it, however, like Orellana
and La Condamine did so many centuries ago, and I am not at all
surprised at their marvelous descriptions."

"A little fabulous," replied Benito.

"Now, brother," said Minha seriously, "say no evil of our Amazon."

"To remind you that it has its legends, my sister, is to say no ill of
it."

"Yes, that is true; and it has some marvelous ones," replied Minha.

"What legends?" asked Manoel. "I dare avow that they have not yet found
their way into Para—or rather that, for my part, I am not acquainted
with them."

"What, then do you learn in the Belem colleges?" laughingly asked Minha.

"I begin to perceive that they teach us nothing," replied Manoel.

"What, sir!" replied Minha, with a pleasant seriousness, "you do
not know, among other fables, that an enormous reptile called the
'minhocao,'
sometimes visits the Amazon, and that the waters of the
river rise or fall according as this serpent plunges in or quits them,
so gigantic is he?"

"But have you ever seen this phenomenal minhocao?"

"Alas, no!" replied Lina.

"What a pity!" Fragoso thought it proper to add.

"And the 'Mae d'Aqua,'" continued the girl—"that proud and redoubtable
woman whose look fascinates and drags beneath the waters of the river
the imprudent ones who gaze a her."

"Oh, as for the 'Mae d'Aqua,' she exists!" cried the naïve Lina; "they
say that she still walks on the banks, but disappears like a water
sprite as soon as you approach her."

"Very well, Lina," said Benito; "the first time you see her just let me
know."

"So that she may seize you and take you to the bottom of the river?
Never, Mr. Benito!"

"She believes it!" shouted Minha.

"There are people who believe in the trunk of Manaos," said Fragoso,
always ready to intervene on behalf of Lina.

"The 'trunk of Manaos'?" asked Manoel. "What about the trunk of Manaos?"

"Mr. Manoel," answered Fragoso, with comic gravity, "it appears that
there is—or rather formerly was—a trunk of
'turuma,'
which every
year at the same time descended the Rio Negro, stopping several days at
Manaos, and going on into Para, halting at every port, where the natives
ornamented it with little flags. Arrived at Belem, it came to a halt,
turned back on its road, remounted the Amazon to the Rio Negro, and
returned to the forest from which it had mysteriously started. One day
somebody tried to drag it ashore, but the river rose in anger, and the
attempt had to be given up. And on another occasion the captain of a
ship harpooned it and tried to tow it along. This time again the river,
in anger, broke off the ropes, and the trunk mysteriously escaped."

"What became of it?" asked the mulatto.

"It appears that on its last voyage, Miss Lina," replied Fragoso, "it
mistook the way, and instead of going up the Negro it continued in the
Amazon, and it has never been seen again."

"Oh, if we could only meet it!" said Lina.

"If we meet it," answered Benito, "we will put you on it! It will take
you back to the mysterious forest, and you will likewise pass into the
state of a legendary mind!"

"And why not?" asked the mulatto.

"So much for your legends," said Manoel; "and I think your river is
worthy of them. But it has also its histories, which are worth something
more. I know one, and if I were not afraid of grieving you—for it is a
very sad one—I would relate it."

"Oh! tell it, by all means, Mr. Manoel," exclaimed Lina; "I like stories
which make you cry!"

"What, do you cry, Lina?" said Benito.

"Yes, Mr. Benito; but I cry when laughing."

"Oh, well! let us save it, Manoel!"

"It is the history of a Frenchwoman whose sorrows rendered these banks
memorable in the eighteenth century."

"We are listening," said Minha.

"Here goes, then," said Manoel. "In 1741, at the time of the expedition
of the two Frenchmen, Bouguer and La Condamine, who were sent to measure
a terrestrial degree on the equator, they were accompanied by a very
distinguished astronomer, Godin des Odonais. Godin des Odonais set out
then, but he did not set out alone, for the New World; he took with him
his young wife, his children, his father-in-law, and his brother-in-law.
The travelers arrived at Quito in good health. There commenced a series
of misfortunes for Madame Odonais; in a few months she lost some of her
children. When Godin des Odonais had completed his work, toward the end
of the year 1759, he left Quito and started for Cayenne. Once arrived
in this town he wanted his family to come to him, but war had been
declared, and he was obliged to ask the Portuguese government for
permission for a free passage for Madame Odonais and her people. What
do you think? Many years passed before the permission could be given.
In 1765 Godin des Odonais, maddened by the delay, resolved to ascend
the Amazon in search of his wife at Quito; but at the moment of his
departure a sudden illness stopped him, and he could not carry out his
intention. However, his application had not been useless, and Madame
des Odonais learned at last that the king of Portugal had given the
necessary permission, and prepared to embark and descend the river to
her husband. At the same time an escort was ordered to be ready in the
missions of the Upper Amazon. Madame des Odonais was a woman of
great courage, as you will see presently; she never hesitated, and
notwithstanding the dangers of such a voyage across the continent, she
started."

"It was her duty to her husband, Manoel," said Yaquita, "and I would
have done the same."

"Madame des Odonais," continued Manoel, "came to Rio Bamba, at the
south of Quito, bringing her brother-in-law, her children, and a French
doctor. Their endeavor was to reach the missions on the Brazilian
frontier, where they hoped to find a ship and the escort. The voyage at
first was favorable; it was made down the tributaries of the Amazon in
a canoe. The difficulties, however, gradually increased with the dangers
and fatigues of a country decimated by the smallpox. Of several guides
who offered their services, the most part disappeared after a few
days; one of them, the last who remained faithful to the travelers, was
drowned in the Bobonasa, in endeavoring to help the French doctor. At
length the canoe, damaged by rocks and floating trees, became useless.
It was therefore necessary to get on shore, and there at the edge of the
impenetrable forest they built a few huts of foliage. The doctor offered
to go on in front with a negro who had never wished to leave Madame des
Odonais. The two went off; they waited for them several days, but in
vain. They never returned.

"In the meantime the victuals were getting exhausted. The forsaken ones
in vain endeavored to descend the Bobonasa on a raft. They had to
again take to the forest, and make their way on foot through the almost
impenetrable undergrowth. The fatigues were too much for the poor folks!
They died off one by one in spite of the cares of the noble Frenchwoman.
At the end of a few days children, relations, and servants, were all
dead!"

"What an unfortunate woman!" said Lina.

"Madame des Odonais alone remained," continued Manoel. "There she was,
at a thousand leagues from the ocean which she was trying to reach! It
was no longer a mother who continued her journey toward the river—the
mother had lost her shildren; she had buried them with her own hands! It
was a wife who wished to see her husband once again! She traveled night
and day, and at length regained the Bobonasa. She was there received
by some kind-hearted Indians, who took her to the missions, where the
escort was waiting. But she arrived alone, and behind her the stages of
the route were marked with graves! Madame des Odonais reached Loreto,
where we were a few days back. From this Peruvian village she descended
the Amazon, as we are doing at this moment, and at length she rejoined
her husband after a separation of nineteen years."

"Poor lady!" said Minha.

"Above all, poor mother!" answered Yaquita.

At this moment Araujo, the pilot, came aft and said:

"Joam Garral, we are off the Ronde Island. We are passing the frontier!"