Frank Aubrey - The Devil-Tree of El Dorado - A Novel

Now Jack Templemore, as has been said, was more practical-minded than Leonard. He had not shrunk from the hardships and privations of wild forest life when engaged upon railway-engineering work, when there had been something definite in view – money to be made, instruction to be gained, or promotion to be hoped for. But he did not view with enthusiasm the idea of leaving comfortable surroundings for the discomforts of rough travel, merely for travel’s sake, or upon what he deemed a sort of wild-goose chase. He had carefully read up all the information that was obtainable concerning the mountain Roraima, and had seen no reason to doubt the conclusions that had been come to by those who ought to know – that it was inaccessible. Of what use then to spend time, trouble, money – perhaps health and strength – upon attempting the impossible?

So Jack Templemore argued, and, be it said, there was the other reason. Why should he go away and separate himself for an indefinite period from his only surviving parent and the girl he loved best in the world, with no better object than a vague idea of scrambling up a mountain that had been pronounced by practical men unclimbable?

Thus, when Leonard appealed to him on this particular morning, merely because he had come across something that had fired his enthusiasm afresh, Jack did not respond to the proposal with the cordiality that the other evidently wished for.

“I don’t mind going a short trip with you, old man,” Jack said presently, “for a little hunting, if you feel restless and are a-hungering after a spell of wandering – a few days, or a week or two, if you like – but a long expedition with nothing to go upon, as it were, seems to me only next door to midsummer madness.”

Leonard turned away with an air of disappointment, and just then Maud Kingsford, who had been playing and singing inside the room, stepped out.

Leonard discreetly went into the house and left the two alone, and Maud greeted Jack with a rosy tell-tale flush that made her pretty face look still more charming. In appearance she was neither fair nor dark, her hair and eyebrows being brown and her eyes hazel. She was an unaffected, good-hearted girl, more thoughtful and serious, perhaps, than girls of her age usually are – she was twenty, while Stella, the younger sister, was between eighteen and nineteen – and had shown her capacity for managing a home by her success in that line in their own home since her mother’s death a few years before. The practical-minded Jack, who had duly noted this, saw in it additional cause for admiration; but, indeed, it was only a natural outcome of her innate good sense. She now asked what her lover and Leonard had been talking of.

“The usual thing,” was Jack’s reply. “He’s mad to go upon an exploring expedition; thinks we could succeed where others have failed. It’s so unlikely, you know. Now, if he would only look at the thing practically – ”

Maud burst into a merry laugh.

“You do amuse me – you two,” she exclaimed; at which Jack looked a little disconcerted. “ You always insisting so upon being strictly non-speculative, and Leonard, with his romantic phantasies, and his dreams and visions, and vague aspirations after castles in the air. You are always hammering away at him, trying to instil practical ideas into him with the same praiseworthy perseverance, though you know that in all these years you have never made the least little bit of impression upon him. Your ideas and his are like oil and water, you know. They will never mix, shake them together as you will.”

“But – don’t you think I am right? Isn’t it common sense?”

“Quite right, of course; and you are persevering; I’ll say that for you.”

“For the matter of that, so’s Leonard,” said Jack with a good-natured laugh. “He’s as persevering with this fad of his as any man I ever met in my life. I do believe he’s got a fixed idea that he has only to start upon this enterprise, and he will come back a made man with untold and undreamt-of wealth and – ”

“And a princess for a bride – the fair maid of his dreams,” Maud put in, still laughing. “We have not heard so much of her, by the bye, lately. He has been rather shy of those things since his return from Europe, and does not like to be spoken to about them. We began to think he had grown out of his youthful fancies.”

The fact was, that, from his childhood, Leonard had been accustomed to strange dreams and fancies. These five – Leonard, Templemore, and Mr. Kingsford’s son and two daughters – had been children together, and in those days Leonard had talked freely to his childish companions of all his imaginative ideas; and as they grew older, he had not varied much in this respect. Moreover, Leonard had had an Indian nurse, named Carenna, who had encouraged him in his fantastic dreamings, and who had, by her Indian folk-lore tales, early excited his imagination. Her son Matava, too, had been Leonard’s constant companion almost so long as he could remember, first in all sorts of boyish games and amusements, and later in his hunting expeditions; and both Matava and Carenna had been always more devoted to Leonard than even to his father and mother.

But when Mr. and Mrs. Elwood left the estate they had been cultivating, to go to England, the two Indians had gone away into the interior to live at an Indian settlement with their own tribe. About twice a year, however – or even oftener, if there were occasion – Matava still came down to the coast upon some little trading expedition with other Indians; and at such times he never failed to come to see the Kingsfords and inquire after Leonard.

The Dr. Lorien, of whom mention had been made by Leonard, was a retired medical practitioner who had turned botanist and orchid-collector. He had been a ship’s doctor, and in that capacity had voyaged pretty well all over the world. Since he had given that up he had travelled further still by land – in the tropical regions in the heart of Africa, in Siam, the Malay Peninsular and, latterly, in South America – in search of orchids and other rare floral and botanical specimens. The vicinity of Roraima being one of the most remarkable in the world for such things – though so difficult of access as to be but seldom visited by white men – it is not surprising that he had lately planned a journey thither.

From this journey the doctor and his son were now daily expected back. One of the Indians of their party had, indeed, already arrived, having been despatched in advance, a few days before, to announce their safe return.

Thus it came about that Templemore and Maud, while still talking, were not greatly surprised at the sudden appearance of Matava, who stated that he had come down with the doctor’s party, who would follow very quickly on his heels.

Maud, who knew the Indian and his mother well, received him kindly; and, to his great delight, was able to inform him that his ‘young master’ – as he always called Leonard Elwood – had returned to Georgetown, and was at present with them.

Matava had, indeed, expected this, for he had heard of Leonard’s intention at his last visit to the coast some six months before. He was greatly pleased to find he was not to be disappointed in his expectation. Moreover, the Indian declared, he had news for him – “news of the greatest importance” – and begged to be allowed to see him at once. So Maud sent him into the house – where he knew his way about perfectly – to find Leonard; and then, turning to Templemore, she said, laughing,

“I wonder what his ‘important’ intelligence can be? Some deeper secret than usual that his old nurse has to tell him, I suppose.”

“I hope it’s nothing likely to rouse a further desire to set off on this mad-cap expedition he has so long had in his mind,” Templemore returned; “for,” looking at her with a sigh, “if he should make up his mind to start, I am, in effect, pledged to go too, whether I wish or not.”