LIGHTS AHEAD.

The expression of incredulity had now floated from the countenance of the Irishman to that of the African, who in turn suspected himself imposed upon. The leer in Tom's eye plainly declared that he considered himself "quits" with his companion; and the two remained for some moments without further exchange of speech. When the conversation was resumed, it related to a theme altogether different. It was no longer on the subject of snakes, but stars.

The pilot perceived that the one hitherto guiding him was going out of sight,--not by sinking below the horizon, but because the sky was becoming overcast by thick clouds. In ten minutes more there was not a star visible; and, so far as direction went, the helm might as well have been abandoned. Tom, however, stuck to his paddle, for the purpose of steadying the craft; and the breeze, as before, carried them on in a direct course. In about an hour after, this gave token of forsaking them; and, at a still later period, the log lay becalmed upon the bosom of the lagoa.

What, next? Should they awake the others and communicate the unpleasant intelligence? Tom was of opinion that they should, while the negro thought it would be of no use. "Better let dem lie 'till," argued he, "and hab a good night ress. Can do no good wake um up. De ole craff muss lay to all de same, till dar come anodder whif ob de wind!"

While they were disputing the points, or rather after they had done disputing, and each held his tongue, a sound reached their ears that at once attracted the attention of both. It was rather a chorus of sounds, not uttered at intervals, but continued all the time they were listening. It bore some resemblance to a distant waterfall; but now and then, mingling with the hoa.r.s.er roaring of the torrent, were voices as of birds, beasts, and reptiles. None of them were very distinct. They appeared to come from some point at a great distance off. Still, they were loud enough to be distinguished, as sounds that could not proceed out of the now tranquil bosom of the lagoa.

Perhaps they might sooner have attracted the notice of the two men, but for the sighing of the breeze against the sail, and the rippling of the water as it rushed along the sides of the ceiba. When these sounds had ceased, the conversation that ensued produced the same effect; and it was only after the dispute came to a close that the disputants were made aware that something besides their own voices was disturbing the tranquillity of the night.

"What is it, I wondher?" was the remark of Tipperary Tom. "Can yez tell, Mozey?"

"It hab berry much de soun' ob a big forress!"

"The sound av a forest? What div yez mane by that?"

"Wha' shud I mean, but de voices ob de animal dat lib in de forress. De birds an' de beast, an' de tree frogs, an' dem 'ere crickets dat chirps 'mong de trees. Dat's what dis n.i.g.g.e.r mean."

"I b'lieve ye're right, nager. It's just that same. It can't be the wather, for that's did calm; an' it can't purceed from the sky, for it don't come in that direction. In trath it's from the forest, as ye say."

"In dat case, den, we muss be near de odder side ob de lagoa, as de Indyun call um,--jess wha we want to go."

"Sowl, thin, that's good news! Will we wake up the masther an' till him av it? What do yez think?"

"Dis n.i.g.g.a tink better not. Let um all sleep till de broke ob day. Dat can't be far off by dis time. I hab an idee dat I see de furs light ob mornin' jess showin' out yonner, at de bottom ob de sky. Gora! what's yon? Dar, dar! 'trait afore de head. By golly! dar's a fire out yonner, or someting dat hab de shine ob one. Doan ye see it, Ma.s.sa Tum?"

"Trath, yis; I do see somethin' shinin'. It a'n't them fire-flies, div yez think?"

"No! 'ta'n't de fire-fly. Dem ere flits about. Yon ting am steady, an'

keeps in de same place."

"There's a raal fire yandher, or else it's the w.i.l.l.y-wisp. See! be me troth thare's two av thim. Div yez see two?"

"Dar _am_ two."

"That can't be the w.i.l.l.y-wisp. He's niver seen in couples,--at laste, niver in the bogs av Oireland. What can it be?"

"What can which be?" asked Trevannion, who, at this moment awaking, heard the question put by Tom to the negro.

"Och, look yandher! Don't yez see a fire?"

"Certainly; I see something very like one,--or rather two of them."

"Yis, yis; there's two. Mozey and meself have just discovered thim."

"And what does Mozey think they are?"

"Trath, he's perplixed the same as meself. We can't make hid or tail av thim. If there had been but wan, I'd a sayed it was a w.i.l.l.y-wisp."

"Will-o'-the-wisp! No, it can scarce be that,--the two being together.

Ah! I hear sounds."

"Yes, masther, we've heerd thim long ago."

"Why didn't you awake us? We must have drifted nearly across the lagoa.

Those sounds, I should say, come out of the forest, and that, whatever it is, must be among the trees. Munday! Munday!"

"Hola!" answered the Indian, as he started up from his squatting att.i.tude: "what is it, patron? Anything gone wrong?"

"No: on the contrary, we appear to have got very near to the other side of the lagoa."

"Yes, yes!" interrupted the Indian as soon as the forest noises fell upon his ear; "that humming you hear must come thence. _Pa terra_!

lights among the trees!"

"Yes, we have just discovered them. What can they be?"

"Fires," answered the Indian.

"You think it is not fire-flies?"

"No; the _loengos_ do not show that way. They are real fires. There must be people there."

"Then there is land, and we have at last reached _terra firma_."

"The Lord be praised for that," reverently exclaimed the Irishman. "Our throubles will soon be over."

"May be not, may be not," answered the Mundurucu, in a voice that betrayed both doubt and apprehension.

"Why not, Munday?" asked Trevannion. "If it be fires we see, surely they are on the sh.o.r.e; and kindled by men. There should be some settlement where we can obtain a.s.sistance?"

"Ah, patron! nothing of all that need follow from their being fires; only that there must be men. The fires need only be on the sh.o.r.e, and as for the men who made them, instead of showing hospitality, just as like they make take a fancy to eat us."

"Eat us! you mean that they may be cannibals?"

"Just so, patron. Likely as not. It's good luck," pursued the tapuyo, looking around, "the wind went down, else we might have been carried too close. I must swim towards yon lights, and see what they are, before we go any nearer. Will you go with me, young master?"

"O, certainly!" replied Richard, to whom the question was addressed.

"Well, then," continued the tapuyo, speaking to the others, "you must not make any loud noise while we are gone. We are not so very distant from those fires,--a mile or thereabout; and the water carries the sound a long ways. If it be enemies, and they should hear us, there would be no chance of escaping from them. Come, young master, there's not a minute to spare. It must be very near morning. If we discover danger, we shall have but little time to got out of its way in the darkness; and that would be our only hope. Come! follow me!"

As the Indian ceased speaking, he slipped gently down into the water, and swam off to the two lights whose gleam appeared every moment more conspicuous.

"Don't be afraid, Rosetta," said Richard, as he parted from his cousin.

"I warrant it'll turn out to be some plantation on the bank, with a house with lights shining through the windows, and white people inside, where we'll all be kindly received, and get a new craft to carry us down to Para. Good by for the present! We'll soon be back again with good news."

So saying, he leaped into the water and swam off in the wake of the tapuyo.