Golden Dreams and Leaden Realities 47

Golden Dreams and Leaden Realities 47

This arrangement, however, had the desired effect; it healed the

breach, if it did not stop the leak. Our captain received his permit,

and in a few hours we were ready for sea. About one hundred of our

company remained behind, unwilling to risk their lives further in the

Carolina. Part of them went across the country on mules to the city

of Mexico, and thence by wagons to Vera Cruz, and the remainder took

passage in the worn-out steamer belonging to the consul, thus jumping

out of the frying-pan into the fire. If any one wonders that we did

not all follow the example of the first, an explanation is easily

given. The land journey to Vera Cruz was long and toilsome--the rivers

were already swollen by the winter rains, and it was doubtful if we

should succeed in crossing them; and after reaching that city we might

still have to wait a long time before we could obtain a passage to

any port in the United States. Besides, the chief-engineer thought

he had now succeeded in repairing the engine, so that we should have

no further trouble on that score; but, more than all, the sun shone

brightly, the touch of the earth had given us all new strength and

spirits, and we no longer retained any very lively apprehensions of

the dangers we had so recently encountered.

 

Behold us, then, four days after we entered the harbour of Acapulco,

once more stealing out to sea. The caution with which we moved soon

convinced us that, whatever repairs had been made during our stay, the

engine was still in a very precarious condition. Slowly and painfully,

like one just recovering from sickness, we crept along the smooth

surface of the Pacific. We watched with the most intense solicitude

all the signs of the weather, fearing lest some storm hovering near

should spy us out and swoop down upon our feeble craft. What we feared

was at length partially accomplished. A storm that swept across the

ocean many miles from our course just brushed us, in passing, with its

cloud-broad wings. The effect of this trifling blow showed us what

we should have had to expect if we had encountered the main body of

the tempest. The leak gained upon us with frightful rapidity, and we

were obliged once more to have recourse to the buckets. We divided

into several companies, that succeeded each other in this fatiguing

labour, and were thus enabled to continue at work nearly the whole

night. About three in the morning I left my station on the ladder for

the last time, my clothes completely saturated with coal and water,

and altogether my appearance so deplorable that a decent chimney-sweep

would have been ashamed to be seen in my society. But the heat of the

smoke-pipe round which I huddled soon dried my clothes, and as to my

appearance, I consoled myself with the reflection that, bad as it was,

our situation was ten times worse.

 

The result of this night's experience was to induce Captain W. to give

up his design of reaching Panama, and turn the ship's head towards

Realejo. The passengers had already strongly urged this change, but,

with that jealousy natural to sea-captains and cookmaids, he had

hitherto preserved the most impenetrable mystery as to his intentions.

 

Having after some difficulty found the entrance, we sailed up the

river about a mile, and made the ship fast at a wharf where the

steamers of Vanderbilt's line take on board their coal, and we were

now at liberty to take a view of the surrounding country.

 

The town of Realejo was eight miles further up the river, and the

only buildings near the wharf were two or three miserable shanties

inhabited by an old Indian and half a dozen melancholy fowl. On the

opposite side of the river, or perhaps I should rather say arm of the

sea, here about a mile in width, a single house was visible peeping

through the snarled and matted forest. An American bark and brig lay

dozing over their anchors half a mile from our ship, seeming, so thick

was the silence in which they were encrusted, to be stuck fast in that

enchanted sea, like flies in a hogshead of molasses.

 

With these exceptions every thing still remained in apparently the

same state as when, six thousand years before, evening and morning

were the fifth day. The "great horologe divine" of this lower creation

was all complete--there were the springs, the weights, the wheels, but

the maker's fingers had not yet put them in motion, and they still

seemed waiting for that powerful touch. It was almost like sacrilege

to venture into those sublimely silent waters, and arouse them from

their long slumbers by our noisy and impertinent life.

 

The sea here seemed to have gained upon the land--the trees stood like

the herds on a sultry summer's afternoon knee deep in the cooling

flood. Beneath the low arching roof the shadows lay thickly woven and

felted together. Birds of unknown plumage glided along the glassy

pavement, among the slender stems, or unfolded their crimson and gold

to the sun as they floated carelessly over our heads. Each little leaf

hung silent on its perch--there was not even that whispering hum that,

like the drone of a beehive or a country school-house, is forever

heard from a waking forest.

 

But suddenly an almost imperceptible ripple came creeping round a

distant headland, and the next moment a rude canoe shot out into

the river. Others continually made their appearance in different

directions, and in a few hours fifteen or twenty were drawn up on

the beach. They contained large baskets of eggs, oranges of a finer

flavour than any we had yet tasted, and a strange fruit resembling the

quince in size and shape, but as yellow and almost as tasteless as a

pumpkin. Parrots, macaws, and paroquets were also offered for sale,

and some of them, we were told, talked the purest Castilian, but no

one seemed disposed to try that method of instruction.

 

Having satiated our curiosity on the novel scenery around us, the

question arose whether we should remain in the ship during her

hazardous voyage to Panama, or tempt the more uncertain difficulties

of a journey through Central America. A party that had gone up to

Realejo to make inquiries, having brought back a favourable report,

the greater part of the passengers abandoned the ship without

reluctance. It was only at the last moment, however, that we could

make up our minds to follow their example. The brief twilight of the

equator was already closing around us when we took our seats in the

only remaining canoe and pushed off from the ship in company with

which we had braved so many perils. We crossed and recrossed the

river several times to avoid the currents and shallows; sometimes we

were in the middle of the stream, and again we glided like a shadow

beneath the overhanging branches. It was the hour of vespers, and

presently our boatmen, an Indian with his wife and daughter gaily

dressed in their Sunday attire, began chanting in a low and rather

plaintive tone the Evening Song to the Virgin. As the river grew

narrower the trees on either hand bent their heads in listening

silence. Closing our eyes, we seemed to be floating onward, as in a

dream, independent of human agency, still farther and farther into

the heart of a boundless, trackless forest. It was a dream to last

forever, but suddenly the canoe struck with a wide-awake jar against

the wharf at Realejo. Several huge canoes, as big as a railroad car

and each dug out of a single mahogany, lay moored in the stream.

Scrambling over two or three smaller ones that lay by our side, we

mounted the wharf and looked round for the city. We could discover

nothing in the darkness but half a dozen ill-looking natives, one of

whom now came forward and offered with a vast deal of gesticulation to

conduct us to a hotel where there were muchos Americanos. Taking our

trunk on his shoulders he led the way and we followed in silence. A

short walk through streets silent as churchyard paths, and lined with

doorless, windowless houses, brought us into a rather more cheerful

neighbourhood, and to a hotel filled indeed with mucho Americano. All

were busy in making arrangements for their journey, and a few rapid

inquiries soon gave us all the needed information.

 

A contract had already been made with several wealthy proprietors to

convey us across the country, one hundred and fifty miles, to Granada

on Lake Nicaragua, where we should proceed by water to San Juan.

Carts, drawn by oxen and capable of containing six persons, were to be

provided for the moderate charge of eight dollars apiece.

 

The most prominent member of our little cartful was a sturdy buckeye

blacksmith of the most royal generosity and good nature. But he never

seemed to know when he was conferring a favour, and hence it lost much

of its effect from the want of that accompanying smile and unconscious

softening of the voice that so often please more than the gift itself.

His hair and eyebrows were whitey brown, his features showed even in

their coarseness his frank and dashing temper--and the words came

sputtering out of his mouth like ale out of a bottle.

 

His companion, a quiet, smoothfaced lad from Wisconsin, who was

wonderfully expert in the use of the rifle, had to my knowledge no

other name than Si.

 

Texas, as we styled the third of our party, was an odd mixture of

shrewdness and simplicity. He had a thousand oddities, the fancies of

a young girl, the whims of an old bachelor, and the greenness--I use

it for want of a better word--of a Southern plantation. We all made

him our butt; he knew it and enjoyed it, for he knew too that he could

put an end to it whenever he would.

 

Monday morning, the head of our train began its march out of the city,

and the rest followed at long intervals. There were in all about forty

carts, containing nearly two hundred and fifty passengers,--and, as

we are now fairly under way, I will take the opportunity to give

a description of one of these ingenious vehicles. The body of the

cart, which was made of mahogany, was about seven feet in length and

three and a half in width. Over it was erected a rude framework of

slender sticks resembling the osier, and covered with raw hides to

keep off the sun and rain. The wheels were formed of solid pieces

of mahogany about four feet in diameter and six inches thick, with

stout projections at the hub; and as they fitted very loosely to the

axle, the whole fabric moved forward with that rolling, sidelong gait

peculiar to sailors and elephants. Four oxen were yoked to this rude

contrivance in the manner common I believe to all Spanish countries. A

straight piece of wood about four inches square, slightly hollowed at

the ends to fit the heads of the oxen, was bound firmly to their horns

by long strips of hide. This yoke is much lighter and simpler than our

own, but more time is required to make it secure, and its position on

the head would probably be unfavourable to drawing heavy loads.

 

With this description of our equipage, the reader will be curious to

know how seven persons could find room in it. If he could have taken

a peep in at the back of the cart, he would have seen the hombre, as

we styled our driver, and the brother of the author elevated in front

on a trunk which had accompanied us to the mines and still clung to us

in all our wanderings. In the interior he would have discovered the

profiles of Ohio, Texas, and New York, who sat crosswise on the bottom

with their backs against one side, their feet against the other, and

presented a lively resemblance to the letter C. As there was not room

enough remaining to accommodate us in the same way, Si and myself

were obliged to sit with our superfluous legs dangling behind. The

obvious advantages of our position in enabling us to see so much more

of what was passing than those within were counterbalanced by equal

inconveniences. A fifth ox, that was intended to take the place of one

of the others in case of any emergency, was tied to one corner of the

cart; and, as he rolled along behind us, the malicious brute would set

down his pestle hoofs with most unnecessary emphasis, making the soft

oozy mud fly like cream in a churn, and spattering us from head to

foot till we were enclosed in a complete suit of defensive armour.

 

Where the road was smooth, the cattle proceeded at a rapid rate,

urged on by the relentless goad of our hombre. This instrument was as

long and stout as a fishing-rod, and terminated in a formidable brad

that brought blood at every blow. The hind quarters of the oxen were

scarred as if by the smallpox from former applications of this cruel

weapon. When our hombre desired to enliven the pair that were yoked

to the pole, he was obliged to shorten his goad stick by thrusting it

behind him into the cart, to the serious discomfiture of Texas and

Ohio. To do him justice, however, he seldom resorted to this means

of propulsion, except in the most difficult passages, contenting

himself with yelling in the most approved fashion of his class, and

belabouring his cattle with a storm of ringing Spanish curses, any one

of which would easily have filled a balloon. If his unaided efforts

proved ineffectual to extricate us from the slough, he was obliged

to wait till the carts behind came up, when three or four drivers,

levelling their goads all at once at the unlucky beasts, and raising a

concert that would scare at least ten souls out of one weaver, would

commence capering and grimacing in the most frantic manner. The naked

Indian boys, one of whom followed every cart, would join in this

exercise, while twenty or thirty bearded Saxons looked on with supreme

contempt. When this species of incantation did not succeed, the only

resource was to attach a third yoke of oxen, which never failed to extricate us from our difficulty.