CHAPTER XXIV
UP THE RIVER TO BOLIVAR
There are several ways of entering the Orinoco proper, but the main stream is the Boca de Navios, flowing eastward into the Atlantic. This great body of water is cut into two channels, each about two miles wide, by a series of islands, some little more than marshlands and others hilly and covered with heavy tropical growths.
“The exact length of the Orinoco is not known,” said the professor, in reply to a question from Mark. “It would be a difficult matter to reach its source, which is located somewhere in the Sierra Parime Mountains, thousands of feet up among the clouds. Roughly speaking the stream proper is almost two thousand miles long.”
“But we can’t sail that far, can we?” asked Hockley.
“By no means. Bolivar, for which we are now bound, marks the head of tide water, and there we will have to take a smaller vessel, even though the river at that point is several miles wide and over three hundred feet deep. Bolivar is about two hundred and fifty miles from the ocean, and about half way to where the Orinoco is joined by the Apure River, in the west. From this point the Orinoco branches southward, through a country of llanos and immense forests, until it approaches the Sierra Parime Mountains, where it is much broken by cascades and rocky canyons. At this point there is a small stream, the Casiquiare, which connects with the Rio Negro, a large river flowing into the Amazon of Brazil.”
“Are there many towns on the river?” questioned Frank.
“Towns, yes, but no cities worth mentioning. Along the upper Orinoco the inhabitants are mostly natives who raise stock and gather cocoa beans, tonqua beans—used for soaps and perfumes—and fruits. To the southward, are immense forests where rubber is found, and in the mountains are the valuable mines which we have already mentioned. Some of these mines are held to be worth ten to twenty millions of dollars each.”
“Gracious! I wouldn’t mind owning one of those myself,” said Darry, in a low voice.
“In years gone by the Spaniards worked these mines and drew from them a wealth that amazed the whole of Europe. But through revolutions and earthquakes many of the mines were abandoned and forgotten, and to this day some which are known to have been exceedingly valuable cannot be located.”
“I say, let us try to locate one of them!” cried Frank, enthusiastically.
“I don’t think you’ll have much luck,” responded the professor, dryly. “Many of the best of miners have tried and failed.”
Mark turned to Andy Hume, who sat close by, smoking a short briar-root pipe.
“Is that your game, Mr. Hume?” he asked.
“Andy Hume, please,” returned the old miner. “Never could get used to a handle to my name nohow.” He blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “Wall, about that being my game, it is and it isn’t. I’m going prospecting, and I don’t care if I strike something new or something old so long as it pans out good. I’ve heard tell of those old Spanish mines and of all the bloodshed it cost to get the gold out of ’em and out of the country. In those days a man wasn’t safe if he had over a hundred dollars’ worth of dust on his person. And even when he got out of the country he wasn’t certain but what some pirate would capture the ship he was sailing on and make him walk the plank to Davy Jones’ locker.”
“I wish we were going with you,” said Darry, impulsively.
“Thank you, lad, but the life wouldn’t suit you nohow. It’s not easy. Prospecting is dangerous work, and I’ve seen the time when I got lost in the mountains and didn’t have a bite to eat for forty-eight hours. That’s an experience that’s enough to drive one crazy.”
“I suppose it is. But if you strike it rich—”
“Ah, yes, if you do strike it. But you don’t more often than you do.”
“Did you ever strike luck in our own country?” asked Hockley, who was as interested as anybody in the conversation.
“Yes, twice. Once I was in the Cripple Creek district and found a nugget worth two thousand dollars. Another time I was up on Lone Man’s Ledge and located the Daisy Mine with a fellow named Bargess. The Daisy proved to be a splendid payer and we took out ten thousand dollars’ worth of dust in less than two weeks. Both Bargess and me were delighted I can tell you. I went down to town to prove up the claim and while I was gone what did Bargess do but gather all the gold in sight and run away to Mexico with it.”
“But he had to leave the mine,” said Darry.
“He did, but it never paid as well as it had at the start, and I stopped working it six weeks later. I wish I could find Bargess.”
“You never heard of him afterward?”
“Never a word, excepting that somebody had once seen him in Mexico at a town called La Dardado. If I should run across him I think there would be some warm work the next few minutes,” added the old miner, pointedly.
The accommodations on the steamer, while not elegant, were yet sufficient for comfort, and the days passed swiftly enough to the boys. Mark and Darry were studying Spanish, for they felt that a knowledge of the language would be of great use to them. Frank and Sam also studied a little. Hockley was too lazy to occupy himself in any manner. Seeking a shady corner of the deck he would stretch out at full length and sleep from one hour’s end to the next.
“He certainly believes in taking it easy,” said Sam to Darry, as they happened to pass the youth. “Of one thing you can be sure, he’ll never kill himself by overwork.”
“I don’t suppose he’ll have to, if his father is as rich as he pretends. But the heat has got something to do with his laziness. It’s terrific.”
“Well, we can’t expect anything different for we are within seven or eight degrees of the equator. If it wasn’t for the nights I don’t see how any of us could stand it.”
Although the river was wide, the steamer moved along the channel slowly and with caution. This was done because of the numerous bars and snags which form to impede navigation—just as they sometimes form on the Mississippi and Missouri of our own country.
“It is said that once this river country was populated by great tribes of Indians that have to-day totally disappeared,” said the professor. “They were a peaceful nation, living on the fruit which abounded on every side, on the numerous fish which the river afforded, and on the small wild animals found in the forests. But soon after Columbus discovered the land, the Spaniards came over with a thirst for gold and power, and that was the end of a peace which had perhaps reigned for centuries.”
“What of a pre-historic civilization here?” asked Sam.
“Some few traces have been found, but not many. The civilization was confined more directly to the western coast of the country and to Central America. But even of that the most is lost, and lost perhaps forever.”
The outlook along the lower Orinoco is not inviting, and the boys soon tired of it. Either bank was lined with grass and reeds, with here and there a patch of wild brushwood, the home of birds innumerable. Pelicans were there, and wild ducks, and there was an odor of heated salt-meadow water which was at times almost overpowering. In the distance were immense forests, but so far off that nothing about them could be clearly distinguished.
“Set a fellow ashore along there and he could get lost without half trying,” observed Mark. “How awfully lonesome it looks.”
“Spare me from getting lost!” said Frank, with something like a shiver. “I just want to have a good time and nothing else.”
To help pass the time, the professor brought out one of the guns and some ammunition and let them take turns at shooting the wild birds as they came within reasonable distance, at the same time giving the lads several necessary lessons in aiming.
“Don’t be in a hurry,” he cautioned to Frank. “Be quick, but not too quick, is a good huntsman’s motto. Now try your hand at the pelican yonder.”
Frank took careful aim and fired, but missed his mark. Then Darry tried and the big water bird was hit in the wing, and speedily dove out of sight among the reeds.
“Please let me try at something else,” pleaded Frank, and when another bird came in range the professor did so. The youth was now more careful and the bird came down like a stone. But it fell into the river and could not be secured.
The shooting lasted all of an hour and at the conclusion Professor Strong declared himself well satisfied with results. “No one is such a terribly bad shot,” he said. “And a little practice will do wonders, as you will soon learn.”
When the town of Bolivar was reached the boys were surprised to find it located on a bluff, sixty or seventy feet above the river level. It is a very ancient place and boasts of a fortress built by the Spaniards ages ago.
“The town is built so high up on account of the swelling of the stream during the wet season,” said Professor Strong. “When the rains are extra severe the river rises fifty and even sixty feet and often carries away large sections of plantations along its bank.”
“There seems to be plenty of shipping,” observed Mark. “There are ships here of a dozen nationalities.”
“Bolivar is the custom-house port for the whole of the Orinoco, which accounts for all those ships being here. The territory to be covered being so vast, an immense amount of business is done, amounting to millions of dollars annually. Gold is exported in large quantities. There are a dozen factories where cigars and stogies are made.”
They were soon ashore and climbing the hilly street to one of the hotels. It was a busy scene, and quite like New York, so Mark declared, on account of the various nationalities to be seen,—American and English miners, German shipping merchants, French and Italian shop and hotel keepers, and negro and other native workmen, all intermingling in the most friendly manner.
“Everybody seems to be smoking,” said Darry. “Negroes, priests, women and all. I never dreamed of such a sight. And some of those workmen haven’t clothing enough to be decent,” he added, in some disgust.
By inquiries at a shipping office it was learned that no steamer for up the river could be had until two days later. This would give them a chance to inspect the city buildings, the parks, and other points of interest.