Presently the ship began to jolt, then bump! And we all went headlong. The Molinero had stuck in the sand. Picking ourselves up we made a dash for the cabin to snatch a few belongings. "Here, take this," urged the Consul. "I feel it will be safe in your keeping," and handed me his watch. I burst out laughing for the first time on that perilous night. His face looked almost saintly. "My God, where do you think I'm going to with it? Up the rigging?" I remember putting it in the highest spot in the cabin, when a wave came pouring down the hatch. We were trappeddoor shut against us by water pressure-we flung ourselves against it-it flew open, the wave had passed-fought our way on deck, and then for'ard. A thunderous clanking, and a water-tank went over. Valdo sustained a slight injury, nothing serious. Chatsworth put on a lifebelt. "Can't swim. Can I have this?" he said calmly. I remember it looked like an Elizabethan collar. Funny how 66 "What the blazes," I thought, can have happened." Then I realised that the ship, which was swaying, kept sucking me under. I made furious attempts to free myself, and at last gave a vicious push with one leg up against the side. That did it. Up I came, and was swept away by a wave. I seemed to travel through a densely packed soundless medium, dark green, light green, lighter, and once again the roar of wind and sea. I lay still in the trough, and waited for the next. Then on again as each successive racing monster, with their long sloping bodies and curly heads, bore me shorewards. At last I touched the sand and stood up, but was instantly swept off my feet again, and back into the trough. Now one final effort. I would make sure of it this time, and I swam till my belly grazed the sandy shore, and dug my fingers in until the receding wave had lost its paces, and fell exhausted. That battle under the ship had nearly finished me. Recovering my breath, I sat up and looked round. Where were the others? Ah, the supercargo fully dressed, even to his tie. He shook himself like a mastiff, but was as calm as ever. Then the Consul, large and nearly naked, swearing volubly about the stupidity of taking voyages with mad Englishmen, and when fully recovered vowed that U.S.A. would have to send a cruiser the next time he was ordered to visit this coast. Now Valdo and Chatsworth-the trusty fellow had kept close to him all the time. Chatsworth walked up the sandy beach, holding something high above his head. subtle power. I walked a few near to losing it, but we were perishingly cold, and were glad to see some Indians approaching us. They had been watching our struggles since daylight. We followed them back to their huts. "I don't feel like tramping across half Honduras. What do we do next, Chatsworth?" "You don't imagine I should have been so careless as to wreck you where there was no railway, do you? The station of Buenavista, with the railway line, is about two hundred yards through those trees. It belongs to the fruit companies, and is the only one in this part of the country." "The devil it is! Think of that, America," I said, addressing the Consul. "There's only one railway in what you would "What on earth have you call this God-damn country, got there?" I asked. and we have been thrown on top of it." "My passport. You see I was afraid I might have trouble with the authorities, but I fear it's wet," and he stood there looking at me as serious as an owl. "If that doesn't beat the band!" I exclaimed. "It was the devil you nearly had trouble with, and he'd have burnt it." Finally, the captain, who also could not swim, floated in on a life-belt. He had been caught up in the anchor-chains, which I am told very nearly drowned him. We all collected together. It was good to be alive and feel mother earth again. The truth is that few of us know how much we appreciate life until we come "I would have you know that I should have used no such phraseology," the Consul objected. "Then all I can say is, you're not from Texas.” But Washington's representative was busily engaged in endeavouring to cover his Central American parts with his scant and tattered clothing. The Indians took us into their huts and gave us strong drink. We shed our wet things, and despatched a messenger down the line to the town of Omoa, asking that a workman's trolley should be sent for us. Covered with blankets, we then slept soundly for several hours, but on awakening a new problem presented itself. "Wherewith shall we be clothed?" I seized a couple of sacks, fixing one round my waist like a hunting tartan, and the other I slung round my shoulders for the plaid. Chatsworth was wrapped in swaddling clothes, a kind of winding sheet, and then the Consul emerged from an inner room, large and dignified, but -oh heavens ! "Don't jest!" he upbraided me. "Don't you see the predicament I am in?" "Is-is that what you call it?" I stammered weakly, for laughter is exhausting. "I should have called it a girl's nightie." If he hadn't been so big and dignified, I think I could have borne it, but this large person, looking rather fierce, and then the bull neck surrounded by embroidery and the nether portions likewise, with those two huge protruding legs-oh dear! But some one was coming in. Our messenger from Omoa entered the hut. "The trolley's ready, señores," he announced. "Heaven be praised for this diversion," I thought. I was rapidly getting cramp in the intestines, for I was weak with laughter. We all walked down and mounted the trolley, Chatsworth and the supercargo on the handle in the front, the Consul and I working against them at the back. Valdo was seated ready to take his turn. We were still very cold, and got to work propelling our Ay, ay," I rejoined, as we swung past them. At Omoa we were taken into the court-room, where the Commandante was to interview us. I detest ceremonies. They always seem so stupid, but, of course, they are a necessary evil. The Commandante sat on the platform in what I suppose was the judge's chair, and we were given seats in a row facing him. We left the palaver to the supercargo, who spoke Spanish perfectly, and all went well until Chatsworth, impatient to get a move on, as he always put it, suddenly leant forward, and with his serious face earnest and intent, addressed the Commandante in his broken Spanish. "Señor-er-have you-erhad any letter from the President of Honduras concerning us?" The Commandante, who was by no means convinced of the veracity of this shipwreck business, had been trying hard to decide through that guise of odd and ragged garments, whether we were respectable people or mere beachcombers. His face now scanned us severely. He evidently thought the whole thing was a hoax. The situation was beginning to be funny, and unfortunately I am very susceptible to humour. I looked from one to the other. Chatsworth, with his face alert and his ears all ready to receive important news in a language with which he was only slightly acquainted, and then at the bucolic consternation on the face of that rotund anatomy which occupied the official chair. Tableaux vivants always get on my nerves, and I nearly exploded. I could see that the Commandante was about to pour forth his wrath upon us, thinking, and not unnaturally, that the whole thing was a jest, when suddenly his face changed. "Are you by any chance the geologist and engineer?" addressing Chatsworth and my self. "Si, Señor Commandante," Chatsworth replied. 66 Why, yes, then I have received instructions from the President about you." Needless to say, our troubles were over, and we were quickly taken to a store to buy clothes, from which we emerged clad, but all exactly alike-yellow trousers, red shirt, yellow jackets, slouch hats-toughs to the marrow-bone. The next day we went to look at the wreck. The Molinero was breaking up, but the sea was calm and a deep blue, whilst the sun was shining from a cloudless sky. Nature had left that callous night's handiwork, as unrepenting Nature leaves her every act." "Oh, let's make our way over the land. I've had enough sea for the time being," I suggested. "Good; then we'll travel across the frontier through the rivers, although I can assure you it's no joy-ride," Chatsworth warned me. The next day Chatsworth, Valdo, and I started, but this time in a petrol trolley, for the district headquarters of the fruit company, at which we alighted about two hours later. On arrival we ran up against one of the more junior authorities, a Chamberlain of the Lesser Gods, so to speak. Apparently we did not impress him at all favourably. He stood there for a few moments mute and eyeing us askance. "H'm," he grunted suspiciously. "They 'phoned us from Omoa to expect some fellows who had been shipwrecked. The Consul and the super- Are you the boys? Yes," we admitted. "H'm. There was a fellow who rolled up here some months ago," he continued, "who said he had been shipwrecked off the coast of Mexico. Perhaps it was just as well for him that he had," he added significantly. "That fellow was wanted by the United States." "Lucky devil," I said enviously. "Nobody seems to want us. May we see the manager?" I ventured again. "Don't know about seeing the manager. S'pose you're hungry, eh? دو We said nothing, but looked on the ground. This silent but eloquent appeal went straight to his heart. "Come along into my quar- local authority there assisted ters." us in obtaining a big dug-out canoe to take us down the river, but confided that it was a risky journey owing to sunken trees and the utter desolation of the bush, where, if overturned, no assistance could be rendered to us. "I personally would prefer to go by sea," he affirmed. Nevertheless, thanking him for his assistance and fellowfeeling, we stepped into the unsteady craft and pushed off into the swift current, with one Indian at the bow and another at the stern. The three of us sat in the middle. The dense jungle soon closed in round us right up to the water's edge. We slipped rapidly past a little islet where a couple of alligators, sensing our presence, flopped lazily into the water and vanished. |