CHAPTER XXX
IN THE DEPTHS OF THE JUNGLE
Ordinarily the South American porcupine or coendoo is a timid animal, seeking cover by day and hunting its food during the night. It lives upon nuts, roots, herbs and leaves and, unlike other porcupines which burrow in the ground, makes its home, to a great extent, in the branches and hollows of large trees.
But though usually timid it is at times aroused to great anger, especially when startled. Such was now the case with the beast that confronted Mark. Every quill, or spine, was raised to its fullest and the porcupine emitted a strange hissing whistle which bode the youth no good.
Mark was startled, so much so that he slipped from the branch upon which he stood and came close to pitching to the ground head first. But he caught another branch and with an effort swung himself up to a sitting position.
“Are you coming down?” called out Frank.
“I can’t! Here’s a porcupine, or something like it. He looks as if he was going to attack me.”
As Mark spoke he felt in his pocket for his pistol and brought the weapon forth. It was fully loaded and he pointed it at the coendoo, which was now moving slowly backward as though to prepare for a leap upon him.
Crack! went the pistol and the porcupine was struck a glancing blow over the back. Then it made its leap, landing on Mark’s breast!
For the instant the youth was almost paralyzed with fright. But mechanically he discharged his pistol a second time and the bullet lodged in the coendoo’s breast. With a howl of pain it fell back, caught at the tree branch with its tail and missed it, and went plunging out of sight into the foliage and vines below.
“Did you kill it?” called out Frank.
“I don’t know. It fell down. Look out it don’t come on your head,” answered Mark.
Frank already had his gun in hand, ready to be of service to his chum if possible. But the porcupine failed to appear and he called back that it must still be in the foliage of the tree.
With great caution Mark descended one branch after another. Presently he caught sight of the animal, hanging from a limb by its tail, an appendage which in the coendoo is unusually strong and long. The beast was plainly dying but to make certain Mark put another bullet through it. Then with the butt of the pistol he unwound the tail and the carcass fell to the ground with a thud.
“That was a surprise party I didn’t expect,” said Mark, when he was once more beside Frank. “How he scared me when he leaped at me! See, his quills drew blood,” and he showed the back of his pricked hand.
“Wonder if the porcupine is good eating?”
“I’ve been told the meat is like that of a suckling pig. We’ll skin him and take him along. Who knows but what we may need the meat badly before we get out of our mess.”
It was a difficult task to skin the coendoo and it caused them more than one wound. But at last it was finished, and with their game over their shoulders and their guns in hand, they started out in the direction of the stream Mark had located from the tree top.
The day proved an extremely hot one and the boys had not covered half the distance when they found they had to sit down and rest. On all sides was the trackless jungle: trees, bushes and vines, with an occasional opening, where grew the most gorgeous of ferns and flowers. Where the ground was damp, monstrous toadstools reared their umbrella-like heads and the moss was six to eight inches deep. Insects of a hundred varieties were numerous and among them crawled lizards and other small creatures for which they could find no name. Orchids abounded, some entwining around the trees to a great height. The odor was so strong at times as to be positively sickening.
“They say that some of these orchids can put you in a sleep from which you will never awaken,” said Mark. “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but if we have to sleep in the open another night let us take good care to keep away from anything that smells as strong as that plant yonder.”
“I heard the professor tell that one orchid produces vanilla,” said Frank. “He said there were over three thousand varieties of the plant.”
Again the forward march was resumed and when both were almost too tired to fight their way another step a river came into sight, flowing lazily along in the sultry daylight. Both looked at the water for a minute in silence then turned to each other in perplexity.
“It doesn’t look like the Orinoco,” declared Frank. “At least, not like the part just above the camp.”
“Exactly what I was thinking, Frank. I believe we’ve struck another stream entirely.”
“Then we are worse lost than we were before.”
“Perhaps not. This may be a tributary of the Orinoco. If so, by following this we are bound to find the Orinoco itself sooner or later.”
“True, but this may flow along for miles before it joins the Orinoco, and if it does join that stream, the question is: Does it join above or below the camp?”
“I’m sure I can’t answer that question, now. The only thing we can do is to follow this stream and trust to luck.”
“If only we had a canoe!”
“True, but we haven’t one, and no tools with which to even make a raft. We’ll have to keep on hoofing it, as the saying goes.”
They had brought with them the remains of the baked curassow and on this they now proceeded to make a dinner. Both longed for some bread and vegetables. They were afraid to touch the berries and other things growing around them for fear of being poisoned.
By throwing some brushwood into the stream they soon made certain of the direction of the current and this accomplished set off once more, after washing down the fowl meat with the coolest drink of water they could find. Fortunately the bank of the stream was tolerably clear of bushes so they made much more rapid progress than before.
“I have an idea,” said Frank, as they moved around a bend into which a mass of driftwood had collected. “Do you see yonder tree trunk, caught in the mud? Why can’t we shove that out into the water and take a ride? It will rest us, and I think the trunk will move just about as fast as we can walk, when once it gets started.”
“I’m willing to try it,” answered Mark, and they set to work to dislodge the tree, which looked as if it had been in the water for some time. Once loose they sprang “aboard,” as Frank called it, and shoved into the stream proper. Caught by the current the tree trunk swung along the surface of the watercourse more rapidly than they had anticipated.
“This is something like,” cried Frank, seating himself on one of the upmost branches. “It’s every bit as good as a canoe.”
“If it don’t take a notion to turn over and dump us into the stream,” answered Mark. “It seems to me it’s a little shaky.”
Nevertheless, he, too, was satisfied and sitting side by side they allowed the tree to carry them down the river. Soon several miles were covered and then they noticed that the watercourse was growing narrower and that the current was correspondingly stronger.
“My, but we are flying along now,” remarked Frank.
“Perhaps we had better try to steer the tree into shore,” returned Mark. “I don’t like this increase in speed. We may be drifting toward some rapids or a waterfall.”
He had hardly spoken when the tree whirled around, almost sending both in the water. As they clutched at the branches they felt the speed increase. The river was now not more than a quarter of its former width and the water foamed up here and there, showing that there were rocks not far below the surface. Rocks could also be seen along the shores and presently they passed a tall cliff filled with birds, the flock swooping off in several directions at their approach.
“I hear water falling ahead!” ejaculated Frank. “Hark!”
“Yes! yes! We are coming to a waterfall!” burst out Mark. “Let us try to turn the tree into shore by all means. If we don’t we may be drowned!”
Each had a tree branch in his hand, with which he had been trying to paddle from time to time. Now both endeavored to use the tree branches as rudders, but in a trice Mark’s was caught in some rocks and torn from his grasp. A second later the tree bounced up and spun around, throwing the boys flat among the branches. Dazed and bewildered they clung fast, fearing that the next lurch of the tree would send them into the stream, which now foamed and boiled on all sides of them.