But the reptile was a fool. Had it voluntarily freed itself, or allowed the bull to get clear of the enveloping mushy earth, it could have whirled its entire length around the quadruped and mashed it to pulp. But the Atlamalcan tugboat, if tied by a hawser to the reptile could not have drawn it forth, for it will allow itself to be pulled asunder before yielding. Nor can any conceivable power induce the serpent to let go, its unshakable resolve being to draw its prey within its folds, instead of meeting its victim.
It was a veritable tug of war, and the sympathies of Major Starland were wholly on the side of the bull. Slipping a bit of rope over the tiller to hold it in place, he knelt on one knee and sighted with the utmost care. The six or eight feet of the reptile which was clear of the mud had been stretched to nearly double its natural length by the furious pulling of the bull, and was as tense as a violin string and so attenuated as to be hardly one-half its ordinary diameter. The American aimed at a point just back of the head and the bullet sped true. Perhaps, as is sometimes the case, the serpent’s body would have yielded in the end, but the missile expedited matters. It snapped apart, the bull with another bellow whirled about and galloped up the bank and away, with the appendage dangling and flapping from his nose, there to hang until it sloughed off.
The report of the rifle awakened Captain Guzman, who sat up, but did not understand all that had taken place until it was explained to him. Then the two partook of the lunch they had brought with them. When the brief twilight closed over forest and stream, they had passed three-fourths of the distance between the respective capitals of the republics. Night had fully come, however, before the boat was sheered toward the mainland, and drawing it up the bank beyond the reach of the current, the two stepped out and walked a short way to a hut that had caught their notice some time before.
Here, strange to say, the native man and wife had only two children, both boys, six or eight years of age, naked and not ashamed. Captain Guzman, who spoke Spanish as well as the American, explained that they desired food and lodging for the night. The husband told them they were welcome, while the slatternly helpmate said nothing, but did her part with commendable diligence. No fire was burning, nor was one started, though the cinders on the outside showed that food was sometimes cooked after the manner of civilized peoples. No table, chairs or furniture were seen, while the floor was of smooth, hard earth. A large, earthen bowl was nearly filled with a mixture of tomatoes, onions, olives and several kinds of fruit chopped together. This was set outside on the ground, between the two guests, who ate and were filled.
CHAPTER VII
Through the hot pulsing of the tropical midnight, with its myriad throbbings of animal life, came the sound of husky coughing, steadily growing more distinct, until the two men seated on the outside of the native hut, on a fallen tree, smoking and listening, identified it as the voice of the Atlamalcan tugboat, named for its owner, General Yozarro. In the vivid moonlight, a dim mass assumed form up the river, the sparks tumbling from its small smokestack helping to locate the craft, which constituted the navy of the little Tabascan republic. The puffing grew louder, the throbbing of the screw, and the rush of the foamy water from the bow struck the ear more clearly, and the outlines of the craft were marked as it rushed past, near the middle of the river, with the starred, triangular flag of Atlamalco wiggling from the staff which upreared itself like a needle from the stern.
In the flood of illumination every part of the vessel was plainly seen: the wheelhouse and even the outlines of the captain at the wheel, the upper deck, the gleam of the one cannon at the front near the pile of wood, and the other at the rear, as well as the forms of several men in sombreros lounging here and there, as if playing the part of sentinels, though there was no earthly call for any service of that nature.
So distinct was everything, that Major Starland saw the Captain reach upward, grasp a cord and pull down. The hoarse throb of the steam whistle awoke the echoes along shore and as it rolled through the forests and jungles caused hundreds of denizens of the solitude to wonder what sort of new beast was coming among them.
Gradually the boat grew hazy and indistinct, but the throbbing of the engine and the soft wash of the current lingered long after the craft itself had faded from view.
“It may be that President Yozarro is afraid President Bambos will forget he has a navy,” suggested the American.
“He does not mean to attack him, I am sure.”
“He has no cause for doing so, which is generally the reason why these wasps sting their neighbors. If they waited for a just cause there would be eternal peace. Ah, my yacht is not due for several days! I would it were here.”
“What would you do, Major?”
“Declare on the side of General Bambos; I shouldn’t ask better sport than to blow that crab out of the water.”
“Is General Bambos a better friend of yours, Major, than General Yozarro?”
“I count neither as a friend, but Yozarro has my sister as his guest, though she has overstayed her time. I may be wrong, but I am not convinced that she is a willing visitor.”
“He holds also the gunboat that we saw pass but a short time ago.”
“And I have a yacht with a single gun; with that my crew would make as short work of the General Yozarro as we did with the Spanish fleets at Manila and Santiago.”
Captain Guzman shrugged his shoulders and smoked in silence.
“My boat will be here in two or three days. Then I shall ask no help from Bambos or any one else in this part of the world.”
“Why not wait, Major? Who knows that if your sister is restored to you through the help of General Bambos, you may not have to ask General Yozarro to help you make him give her up?”
It was a contingency of which Major Starland had not thought. Prudence told him to be patient till the coming of the Warrenia, with her crew of a dozen men, beside the captain. Three of the crew had fought against Spain and would welcome a scrap with the Atlamalcan navy.
But the American was restless. He carried a pretext for calling upon General Yozarro, and his anxiety would not allow him to remain quiescent. That night as he slept in the hammock which he had brought from his boat and swung in front of the native hut, he heard as in a dream, the puffing of the tug on its return to Atlamalco. He did not rouse himself to look at her, as she glided past in the moonlight, but it was a great relief to know that she had gone back. President Yozarro was so proud of his navy that most of the voyages up and down the Rio Rubio were taken for his personal pleasure. He would be at home, therefore, on the morrow when his American visitor presented himself.
And such was the case. The forenoon was no more than half gone, when the small sailing craft rounded to at the wharf in front of the native town, and Major Starland leaped ashore. It was agreed that Captain Guzman should await his return to the pier. The alert American noted everything. The tug seemed to be crouching beside the wharf, a hundred feet distant, like a bull dog waiting for some one to venture nigh enough for him to leap forward and bury his fangs in his throat. But no steam was up, and the war craft, like everything else, was adrowse and sleeping.
The city of Atlamalco sprawled over half a square mile, the most ancient dwellings being made of adobe, squat of form and with only a single story. The more pretentious were of a species of bamboo, of large proportions, and, although divided into a number of apartments, they too consisted of but a single story, like most houses in an earthquake country. They were of flimsy make, for the climate was generally oppressive, and the narrow streets were fitted only for the passage of footmen and animals with their burdens. The swarthy, untidy inhabitants are among the laziest on earth, for, where nature is so lavish, the necessity for laborious toil is wanting. The avenues leading to the wharf slope gently upward, winding in and out, and mingling in seemingly inextricable confusion.
Pen cannot describe the vegetable exuberance of this portion of South America. Sugar, coffee, cocoa, rice, tobacco, maize, wheat, ginger, mandioc, yams, sarsaparilla, and tropical fruits beyond enumeration smother one another in the fierce fight for life. The chief dependence of the people is upon mandioc, manioc, or cassava, which the natives accept as a direct gift from the prophet