so much excitement, they unmoored from the cayman beach and departed.
Before five days, if nothing intervered with their voyage, the raft
would reach the port of Manaos.
Minha had quite recovered from her fright, and her eyes and smiles
thanked all those who had risked their lives for her.
As for Lina, it seemed as though she was more grateful to the brave
Fragoso than if it was herself that he had saved.
“I will pay you back, sooner or later, Mr. Fragoso,” said she,
smiling.
“And how, Miss Lina?”
“Oh! You know very well!”
“Then if I know it, let it be soon and not late!” replied the
good-natured fellow.
And from this day it began to be whispered about that the charming
Lina was engaged to Fragoso, that their marriage would take place at
the same time as that of Minha and Manoel, and that the young couple
would remain at Belem with the others.
“Capital! capital!” repeated Fragoso unceasingly; “but I never
thought Para was such a long way off!”
As for Manoel and Benito, they had had a long conversation about what
had passed. There could be no question about obtaining from Joam
Garral the dismissal of his rescuer.
“Your life is precious to me above all things!” Torres had said.
This reply, hyperbolical and enigmatical at the time, Benito had
heard and remembered.
In the meantime the young men could do nothing. More than ever they
were reduced to waiting–to waiting not for four or five days, but
for seven or eight weeks–that is to say, for whatever time it would
take for the raft to get to Belem.
“There is in all this some mystery that I cannot understand,” said
Benito.
“Yes, but we are assured on one point,” answered Manoel. “It is
certain that Torres does not want your father’s life. For the rest,
we must still watch!”
It seemed that from this day Torres desired to keep himself more
reserved. He did not seek to intrude on the family, and was even less
assiduous toward Minha. There seemed a relief in the situation of
which all, save perhaps Joam Garral, felt the gravity.
On the evening of the same day they left on the right the island of
Baroso, formed by a furo of that name, and Lake Manaori, which is fed
by a confused series of petty tributaries.
The night passed without incident, though Joam Garral had advised
them to watch with great care.
On the morrow, the 20th of August, the pilot, who kept near the right
bank on account of the uncertain eddies on the left, entered between
the bank and the islands.
Beyond this bank the country was dotted with large and small lakes,
much as those of Calderon, Huarandeina, and other black-watered
lagoons. This water system marks the approach of the Rio Negro, the
most remarkable of all the tributaries of the Amazon. In reality the
main river still bore the name of the Solimoens, and it is only after
the junction of the Rio Negro that it takes the name which has made
it celebrated among the rivers of the globe.
During this day the raft had to be worked under curious conditions.
The arm followed by the pilot, between Calderon Island and the shore,
was very narrow, although it appeared sufficiently large. This was
owing to a great portion of the island being slightly above the mean
level, but still covered by the high flood waters. On each side were
massed forests of giant trees, whose summits towered some fifty feet
above the ground, and joining one bank to the other formed an immense
cradle.
On the left nothing could be more picturesque than this flooded
forest, which seemed to have been planted in the middle of a lake.
The stems of the trees arose from the clear, still water, in which
every interlacement of their boughs was reflected with unequaled
purity. They were arranged on an immense sheet of glass, like the
trees in miniature on some table _epergne,_ and their reflection
could not be more perfect. The difference between the image and the
reality could scarcely be described. Duplicates of grandeur,
terminated above and below by a vast parasol of green, they seemed to