The Mighty Orinoco

Chapter XIV The Chubasco

168 chapter XIV The Chubasco At the break of day, when the last constellations were still illuminating the western horizon, the passengers were awakened by the preparations for departure. They were hopeful that this was the last leg—San Fernando was located no more than fifteen kilometers away. The thought of sleeping, that very evening, in real beds was most agreeable indeed. They had spent thirty-one days travelling from Caicara and almost as many nights on simple straw mats in their falcas . As to the time spent in La Urbana and in the villages of Atures and Maipures, under the thatched roofs of straw huts and on Indian bedding , there was no comparison with the comfort, if not of a hotel, at least of an inn—even if it were not furnished in the European manner or did not have all the amenities, which no doubt San Fernando could not o¬er. When M. Miguel and his companions dragged themselves from their quarters, the falcas were moving up the middle of the river. They were gliding along at good speed under the power of the northeast wind. Unfortunately, certain signs that boatmen seldom mistake made them fear that this breeze did not have the strength for a fifteenkilometer stretch. The boats were sailing one after another, and Jacques Helloch turned toward the Gallinetta: “Are you well, this morning , my dear Jean?” he asked him with a wave of his hand. “I thank you, M. Helloch,” replied the lad. “And you, Sergeant Martial?” “I don’t feel any worse than usual,” the old soldier said curtly. “That is apparent,” replied Jacques Helloch, in good humor. “I hope that we’ll all arrive in excellent health this evening at San Fernando .” “This evening?” repeated skipper Valdez, shaking his head doubtfully . At that instant M. Miguel, who had just looked up at the sky, joined the conversation: 169 “Aren’t you satisfied with the weather, Valdez?” said he. “Not very, M. Miguel. There are some storm clouds coming in from the south, and they don’t look too good!” “Won’t this wind chase them away?” “If it holds up . . . maybe. But if it calms down . . . as I fear it will . . . Do you see those clouds rising over there? It’s not rare for them to rise against the wind.” Jacques Helloch looked at the horizon and seemed to be in agreement with the skipper of the Gallinetta. “In the meantime,” he said, “let’s take advantage of the breeze and make as much distance as we can.” “We’ll do our best, M. Helloch,” replied Valdez. Throughout the morning, the boats did not undergo too much delay. They had been able to use the sails to make good headway against the current, and they now traveled between banks bordering on vast plains that were punctuated by several mesas, or buttes, covered with vegetation . Several of the streams that poured into the river, now higher from the last rainfall, would be dry before five or six weeks had passed. Thanks to the breeze, the falcas, after going around the rocks of Nericawa, succeeded in crossing the Aji rapids, which at this season of the year had enough water depth to permit them to navigate around the numerous shoals. The danger was that a boat, caught without forewarning by the current, might be hurled against these rocky reefs, which would inevitably smash it to pieces. A similar catastrophe almost happened to the Moriche. Seized by the current, it barely escaped being thrown against an enormous boulder. If that accident had occurred, however, the Gallinetta and the Maripare could have no doubt saved the personnel and equipment of the Moriche. In that case, Jacques Helloch and his companion would have been obliged to take passage aboard one of the other falcas, and it was clearly indicated that the Gallinetta would be the one to receive some additional compatriots on board. That was an eventuality which would have been extremely displeasing —to say the least—to Sergeant Martial. It is true that, until now, the hospitality o¬ered the two Frenchmen had never lasted more than a few hours at a time. After overcoming the dangers of the Aji rapids, the boatmen were no less fortunate in crossing the Castillito rapids—the last to trouble the navigation of the river below San Fernando. “Do you see those clouds rising over there?” 171 Around...