And so we journeyed on day after day, through heat and dust, and arid, stony lands; with my heart sinking lower and lower and the thought of home not being so very bad a place after all continually forcing itself upon me, till our guide suddenly announced our proximity to the place I had come these thousands of miles to seek.  And now it was that from where it had sunk my heart gave a great leap of exultation, and I sat for long enough upon my bony mule drinking in the scene before me.

For the last three days our ride had been over stone and sand, with here and there a melancholy palm shooting up from the drab-hued desert, the sun beating down and being reflected up in a way that was almost unbearable; even Tom riding with his mouth open, panting like a dog, his face coated with perspiration and dust; while when at night we had stopped at some wretched makeshift of an inn ­a hut generally where a grass hammock and a little lukewarm water was the total accommodation ­a wash or bath of any kind had been quite out of the question.  But now, as we were descending a steep mountain-side, it seemed as if we had suddenly dropped into one of the most lovely spots on earth, riding at once right in beneath the shade of a huge forest, with a sea of green leaves spreading out before us in every direction.

By comparison the coolness was delightful, and we rode through a vast arcade over a golden net-work spread by the sun upon the grassy undergrowth; whilst from afar off came that sweetest of sounds to a parched and thirsty traveller, the murmuring of falling water, now soft and gentle, now increasing to a roar.

“Great river, senors,” said our guide, pointing forward.  “Senor Don Reuben Landell on other side.”

“Say, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom just then, “they ain’t sure where the Garden of Eden was, are they?  I’m blest if I don’t think we’ve found the very spot, and if ­There she goes!”

I can’t say whether Tom’s mind was running just then upon Eve, but as a light figure seemed to flit into our sight and stand gazing at us with bright and wondering eyes, mine did; and for a few minutes after she had disappeared amongst the trees I sat in my saddle without speaking.

But the glorious verdure around soon made me forget the fair vision; and now, riding on a few paces, now halting at an opening in the forest, I sat drinking in the scene with the feelings of one in a dream.

Then we rode on a hundred yards up an ascent, with the sun full upon us once more, to descend a precipitous path, holding on tightly by the mule, which one expected to slip and hurl one down a gulf at the side; but the descent was safely made, and then we stood gazing at a belt of cultivated ground ­the forest and river lying off to our right.

“There is the river path, senors,” said our guide, “straight down.  The ground is soft and bad for the mules, and I go back.  You will find a gentleman to take you over the great river; but I would look about me; there are little snakes, the great water-boa, and the crocodiles of the river.”

Then saluting us with his half-bred Spanish politeness, our guide stood while we possessed ourselves of our light luggage, and then led off his mules, leaving us to follow the pointed-out direction, which took us down to the swampy bank of a great muddy river flowing gently by us, cutting its way, as it were, through a forest of mighty trees, whose tall stems shot up from the water’s edge.  There was a small canoe tethered to a sapling where the path ceased, but no sign of its owner; while half a mile in front, across the river, was an opening in the trees similar to that in which we stood, which was, doubtless, the path we were to pursue.

We stood in deep shadow; but the sun was flashing from the breast of the river as it rolled slowly on, its even surface unbroken save here and there by some water-bird; while in several places what seemed to be rough tree-trunks were floating slowly down with the stream.  The great trees were wreathed and festooned to the water’s edge with parasites and vines; and now and then the shrill cry of some parrot rang out, the bird flashing into sight for an instant, and then disappearing amidst the glorious verdure.

“Well, Tom,” I said, “this is different from the old country.”

But he did not reply; and turning, I found him gazing fixedly amongst the swamp herbage, through which was a wet, muddy track, when, following the direction of his gaze and peering into the shade, I became aware of a pair of the most hideous, hateful eyes fixed upon me that I had ever seen.  I was heated with walking over the wet ground, and there was a warm, steamy exhalation rising around; but in a moment my tongue became dry and a cold perspiration bedewed my limbs, as, fascinated almost, I stood gazing within six feet of the monster, which now began slowly a retrograde motion till the herbage hid it from our sight.  Then there was a loud rustling rush, a splash in the water, and wave after wave proclaimed the size of the beast that had, fortunately for us, declined to attack.

“Whurra!” exclaimed Tom with a shudder.  “Say, Mas’r Harry, do newts grow as big as that out here?”

“It was a crocodile, Tom,” I said with a shiver.  “And look ­look!  Why, the river swarms with them!”

“So it does, seemin’ly,” exclaimed Tom as I pointed out the slimy backs of half-a-score of them floating down the stream; for I could see now that they were no trees, while here and there on the muddy bank we could make out a solitary monster basking, open-mouthed, in the sun.

“Come along,” I said, “let’s get over.”

“But will they touch the boat, Mas’r Harry?  I ain’t afraid, you know, only they are queersome beasts as ever I did see.”

“I don’t think there’s any fear of that,” I said; “but at any rate we must get over.”

Stepping close to the water’s edge I drew the light canoe up by its bark rope, disturbing either a small reptile or some great fish as I did so, for there was a rushing swirl in the water and the frail vessel rocked to and fro.

In spite of Tom’s declarations to the effect that such a pea-shuck would sink with us, I stepped in and he followed; when, taking the paddles, we pushed off and began to make our way out into the stream, Tom’s eyes glancing around as he dipped in his paddle cautiously, expecting every moment that it would touch a crocodile; but using our paddles ­clumsily enough, as may be supposed ­we made some way, and then paused to consider whether we should go forward or backward, for we had at one and the same time arrived at the knowledge that the strong stream was our master, and that until we had attained to some skill in the use of the paddles any progress upstream towards the landing-place was out of the question.

“We must get across lower down, Tom,” I said, “and then walk back.”

“What! through the wood, Mas’r Harry?”

“Yes, through the wood.”

“Lor’!  No, don’t do that, Mas’r Harry.  We shall be eat up alive!  Them there woods swarms with snakes ­I know they do.  And just look there!” he cried, splashing fiercely with his paddle to frighten a huge reptile, but without effect; for the great beast came slowly floating down in all its native hideousness, its rugged bark-like back and the rough prominences above its eyes out of the muddy water, one eye peering at us with the baleful look peculiar to this fearful beast.

The next minute it had passed us, and we were once more paddling slowly on, the river having swept us quite out of sight of the landing-place.  But the sights around were so novel that I rather enjoyed our passage.  In spite of Tom’s anxiety, every now and then I ceased paddling to gaze at some bright-plumaged bird flitting from tree to tree overhanging the stream.  Once I made sure that the great bare vine which swung between two boughs must be a serpent, till, passing by, we made out its real character.

At last, though, I awoke to the fact that it was time to be up and doing, for the current had swept us round a great bend of the river, and below us I saw that for a wide stretch of quite a couple of miles the river was broken up by rapids.  Great masses of rock thrust their bare heads out of the water like river monsters, and round them the muddy tide bubbled, and foamed, and eddied.

It was plain enough that we were approaching a dangerous part, and had not our sense warned us of the peril we had ample warning in the increased swiftness and troubled state of the stream.  I saw at a glance that a boat would have but a poor chance of existing amongst the rocky way if it should be swept there, and I had taken a firm grip of my paddle when ­

“Look, Tom!” I cried.

And for a moment our attention was taken up by one of those glorious golden-green and scarlet birds ­the trogons ­flitting close by us, its emerald crest and gorgeous yard-long tail-feathers flashing in the sun, while its brilliant scarlet breast was for a moment reflected in the water.

“Oh, you beauty!” cried Tom.  “If I only had my old gun!  But, I say, Mas’r Harry, paddle away!”

Already somewhat more used to the propellers, we began to force the boat towards the opposite bank, hoping to get into an eddy that should help us along; but we had dallied with our task, and the stream now ran more swiftly than ever.  Still we made some progress, and were contriving to dip together, when I almost let my paddle pass from my hands, for a strange, wild cry rang along the surface of the water.

“What’s that?” I exclaimed.

“I should say it was one of them pleasant brutes out for a holiday ­one of them tiger or leopard things, like what we used to see in Wombwell’s show, like great tomcats.  I’ll lay a wager this is the spot where they live when they’re at home and go yowling about.”

“There it is again!” I exclaimed excitedly.  “Why, it was a cry for help.  There is some one in the river!”

“Then he’d better hold his tongue,” said Tom, “and not get shouting, or he’ll have all these great beasts come rushing at him, same as they did in the ponds at home when we used to throw in a worm upon a bent pin and fish for the little newts.  There, Mas’r Harry, look at that chap!”

As he spoke Tom pointed with his paddle at a great uncouth monster, some twelve feet long and tremendously thick, which had raised its head from the slime in which it wallowed upon the edge of the river, and was slowly turning itself, first in one and then in another direction, before splashing a little and then shooting itself off into deep water with one stroke of its powerful tail.

“Ugh, the brutes!” ejaculated Tom.  “They’d make short work of a fellow if he was thrown in for live bait.  But, I say, that is some one shouting, Mas’r Harry.”

“Paddle down closer towards the rapids, Tom,” I said excitedly.

Then, for a moment we forgot our own danger as with a sharp stroke or two we sent the canoe out in full stream, so that it swept down swiftly.

“You’re right, Mas’r Harry ­you’re right!” said Tom, eager now as I was myself.  “Look ­look, there’s a canoe upset!”

“Paddle away!” I cried as another shout came ringing towards us, just as I obtained a good view of what was taking place below.

“But we shall be over too, Mas’r Harry, if you row like that.  Lord help them, though, if there ain’t a woman in the water!” Tom cried, working his paddle furiously ­an example I had set him.

Swaying about, the little vessel raced almost through the troubled waters, which each moment grew more rough, leaping and dancing, and threatening at times to splash right into our frail boat.

Our excitement was pardonable, for right in front of us, and about two hundred yards down the river, there was a sight which made my nerves tingle, and the paddle in my hands to feel like a straw.  A canoe of about double the size of our own had been overset in the rapids, and, with four figures clinging to it, was rapidly floating down stream amidst the boiling waters, which leaped and seethed round them.  Now we could see that two of the figures were making efforts to turn the canoe; but it was evident that in the rough water, and with the others clinging to it, this was impossible; and, evidently half-strangled and bewildered in the fierce rush, they had given up the next minute, and were clinging to the vessel’s sides.

Now it was hurried down a rapid with a tremendous rush, to be tossing the next moment in the deep below, whirling round and round, now half under, now by its buoyancy rising again with its clinging freight, to be swept into an eddy where the water was comparatively calm, but only to be slowly driven back again into the swift current hastening down the rocky slope; and a groan of dismay burst from my breast as I saw the boat dashed against a great black jagged mass of rock right in its way.  But the next instant the party had glided round it, and were again being swept downwards where the river was one mass of creamy foam.

How we went down I cannot tell you, for it was due to no skill on our part; the wonder is that we were not overset a score of times; but somehow, almost miraculously, we seemed to avoid rock after rock that was scattered in our way, the little canoe bounding along in a mad race as we plied our paddles with all the energy at our command.  I have often thought since that our rough action and chance-work way of running the gauntlet amidst the rocks was the reason of our success, where skilled managers of a canoe would have come to grief; but, be that as it may, in a wild exciting race we dashed on and on down the gradual watery slope, the noise of many waters thundering in our ears, while, with what I believe is the true generous spirit of an Englishman pervading us, we forgot our own danger in the sight of that incurred by the party in the rapids.

“Go it, Mas’r Harry!” Tom roared, mad almost with excitement, as he scooped away with his paddle.  “Hurraw!  Who’s afraid?  That’s a good un!  Now again!  Brayvo! lay into it, my hearty!”

We gained upon the upset boat swiftly, when, as the clinging party were swept into a tolerably smooth reach that intervened between a fierce race of water and the next dangerous spot, I saw one of the men leave the canoe and strike boldly out for the shore, followed directly after by two more, whose dusky skin proclaimed them of Indian blood.

“Why, only look there ­three men and one woman!” cried Tom.  “And if they haven’t gone away and left her!  This ain’t old England, Mas’r Harry; we don’t do things that how at home.  Paddle away!  Mind, sir, or you’ll have us over!  Only wish I had a couple of tallow staves instead of this wooden spoon.  Paddle away, sir!  Cowardly warmint!  That’s it, sir; this boat’s as light as a cork, but don’t have us over.  We shall soon reach her now ­mind, steady, for I’m scared to death of the water, and I wouldn’t swim as they do, not for a thousand pounds ­not but what I could if I liked.  That’s it, sir, only another thirty yards ­long strokes and steady ones, and ­hold on, my dear, we’re coming.”

“Push on, Tom ­push on, and save your breath,” I cried, “for Heaven’s sake!  Ah! ­”

I could not restrain that cry ­it burst from my lips, for just at that moment I saw the female figure, yet clinging to the overturned canoe, glide from her hold, as if drawn away by some invisible agency down, down, gradually beneath the swift tide.

“It’s one of them great wild beasts got her!” cried Tom, giving vent to the thought that had flashed across my brain.  “Oh! don’t ­pray, pray don’t, Mas’r Harry!” I heard him shriek.  “I’m scared to death of these waters, and if you go I must too, for I swore I’d stick to you like a ­ Oh, Mas’r Harry!”

With Tom’s voice ringing in my ears, but having no more effect than they would have had in staying the swift rush of the rapids, I had in one and the same moment recognised the drowning face, and, paddle in hand, leaped from the frail canoe into the foaming river.

That was a wild and thrilling moment, when, nerving myself to the encounter, I battled with the fierce water, trying to put into practice every feint and feat that I had learned in old bathing times at home, when sporting in the summer evenings in our little river.  Speed, though, and skill in swimming seemed unavailing here, as I felt the waters wreathe round me, strangling me, as it were, in a cold embrace; then seizing me to drag me here, to drag me there; dashing me against this rock, against that, and directly after sending a cold chill of horror through every nerve, as a recollection of the hideous reptiles abounding in the river flashed upon me, when I felt myself sucked down lower and lower in the vortex of some eddy between the rocks.  It was like dreaming of swimming in some horrible nightmare, my every effort being checked when I strove to reach the drowning girl; and again and again, when just on the point of clutching her light garments, I was swept away, to begin once more fighting towards her with the energy of despair.

At last, however, my arm was round her, and two little hands closed upon my shoulders, clinging to me with a despairing grip, as I fought hard to keep on the surface; but only to be swept here and there, helpless as a fragment of wood, the muddy water the while thundering in my ears and bubbling angrily at my lips.

Now up, now down ­over, and over, and over, rolling along a shallow smooth platform of rock, and then into deeper water again.  I began to feel that I was fighting my last fight, and that the enemy was too strong.

But still I fought on ­more feebly, ’tis true, but still with the stubborn determination of an unworthy representative of that nation which was said by a great general not to know when they were beaten.

Then came a respite, as I was swept into still water; but I was too weak now to take advantage of it before I was borne into the next rapid, foaming to receive me with my burden.

The river was here like a series of long rugged steps, with here fierce tumbling waters, there a smooth interval, but only to be succeeded again and again by broken water, into another foaming chaos of which I was swept.

It was now one wild confusion of struggling wave and roaring, foaming surf; then came a dim sense that I was half stunned by a fierce blow ­ that I was growing weaker ­that I was drowning fast; and for an instant a pang shot through me as I seemed to see vividly a portion of my past life, and thought of how hard it was to die so young.

I was again swept into the still water, and my arm struck out involuntarily as, my lips well above water, I drew in a long breath ­a long invigorating draught of the breath of life; but my efforts were feeble, and my mind was misty and confused, but only for a few moments.  In a flash, as it were of light, the horror of my position came upon me, and I gave utterance to a cry of terror, for suddenly there was a fierce rushing swirl in the water.  I felt something strike me obliquely; then the light figure I had striven so hard to save was almost jerked from my arm, and the next instant we were being borne swiftly along through the water upstream and towards the shore.

Jerk, jerk, jerk! and I gazed with horror upon the pale face close to mine, fortunately insensible; my eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets with horror; there was a sensation as of a ghostly hand stirring my wet hair; and then once more I gave utterance to a strange hoarse cry that startled even me; for as ­in spite of my weakness ­my mental energies grew momentarily clearer I thoroughly realised the horror of our position, and that we were being dragged rapidly away by one of the ravenous reptiles of the river.