Martin Rattler

To this sternly delivered speech the Baron made no reply, but springing suddenly upon Martin, he grasped him in his powerful arms and crushed him to his broad chest till he almost broke every bone in his body!

“Och! cushla, bliss yer young face! sure it’s yersilf, an’ no mistake! Kape still, Martin, dear. Let me look at ye, darlint! Ah! then, isn’t it my heart that’s been broken for months an’ months past about ye?”

Reader, it would be utterly in vain for me to attempt to describe either the words that flowed from the lips of Martin Rattler and Barney O’Flannagan on this happy occasion, or the feelings that filled their swelling hearts. The speechless amazement of Martin, the ejaculatory exclamations of the Baron Fagoni, the rapid questions and brief replies, are all totally indescribable. Suffice it to say that for full quarter of an hour they exclaimed, shouted, and danced round each other, without coming to any satisfactory knowledge of how each had got to the same place, except that Barney at last discovered that Martin had travelled there by chance, and he had reached the mines by “intuition.” Having settled this point, they sobered down a little.

“Now Martin, darlint,” cried the Irishman, throwing aside his hat for the first time, and displaying his well-known jolly visage, of which the forehead, eyes, and nose alone survived the general inundation of red hair, “ye’ll be hungry, I’ve small doubt, so sit ye down, lad, to supper, and you’ll tell me yer story as ye go along, and afther that I’ll tell ye mine, while I smoke my pipe,—the ould cutty, boy, that has comed through fire and wather, sound as a bell and blacker than iver!”

The Baron held up the well-known instrument of fumigation, as he spoke, in triumph.

Supper was superb. There were venison steaks, armadillo cutlets, tapir hash, iguana pie, and an immense variety of fruits and vegetables, that would have served a dozen men, besides cakes and splendid coffee.

“You live well here, Barney—I beg pardon—Baron Fagoni,” said Martin, during a pause in their meal; “how in the world did you come by that name?”

Barney winked expressively. “Ah, boy, I wish I may niver have a worse. Ye see, when I first comed here, about four months ago, I found that the mine was owned by an Irish gintleman; an’, like all the race, he’s a trump. He took to me at wance when he hear’d my voice, and then he took more to me when he comed to know me character; and says he to me wan day, ‘Barney,’ says he, ‘I’m gittin’ tired o’ this kind o’ life now, and if ye’ll agree to stop here as overseer, and sind me the proceeds o’ the mine to Rio Janeiro, a great city on the sea-coast an’ the capital o’ Brazil, I’ll give ye a good share o’ the profits. But,’ says he, ‘ye’ll need to pretind ye’re a Roosian, or a Pole, or somethin’ o’ that kind; for the fellows in thim parts are great rascals, and there’s a few Englishmen among them who would soon find out that ye’re only a jack-tar before the mast and would chate ye at no allowance; but if ye could spake no language under the sun but the gibberish pecooliar to the unbeknown provinces o’ Siberia, ye could escape detection as far as yer voice is consarned; and by lettin’ yer beard grow as long as possible, and dressin’ yersilf properly, ye might pass, and be as dignified as the great Mogul.’

“‘Musha!’ said I, ‘but if I don’t spake me own tongue I’ll have to be dumb altogither.’

“‘No fear,’ says he; ‘I’ll tache ye enough Portuguese in a month or two to begin with, an’ ye’ll pick it up aisy after that.’ And sure enough I began, tooth and nail, and, by hard workin’, got on faster than I expected; for I can spake as much o’ the lingo now as tides me over needcessities, and I understand most o’ what’s said to me. Anyhow, I ginerally see what they’re drivin’ at.”

“So, then, you’re actually in charge of the mine?” said Martin, in surprise.

“Jist so, boy; but I’m tired of it already; it’s by no means so pleasant as I expected it would be; so I’m thinkin’ o’ lavin’ it, and takin’ to the say again. I’m longin’ dreadful to see the salt wather wance more.”

“But what will the owner say, Barney: won’t he have cause to complain of your breaking your engagement?”

“Niver a bit, boy. He tould me, before we parted, that if I wanted to quit I was to hand over the consarn to the interpreter, who is an honest fellow, I belave; so I’m jist goin’ to pocket a di’mond or two, and ask lave to take them home wid me. I’ll be off in a week, if all goes well. An’ now, Martin, fill yer glass; ye’ll find the wine is not bad, after wan or two glasses; an’ I’ll tell ye about my adventures since I saw ye last.”

“But you have not explained about your name,” said Martin.

“Och! the fact is, that when I comed here I fortunately fell in with the owner first, and we spoke almost intirely in Irish, so nobody understood where I comed from; and the interpreter hear’d the master call me by my name; so he wint off and said to the people that a great Barono Flanagoni had come, and was up at the house wid the master. But we corrected him afterward, and gave him to understand that I was the Baron Fagoni. I had some trouble with the people at first after the owner left; but I pounded wan or two o’ the biggest o’ them, to such a extint that their own friends hardly knew them; an iver since they’ve been mighty civil.”

Having carefully filled the black pipe, and involved himself in his own favourite atmosphere, the Baron Fagoni then proceeded to relate his adventures, and dilated upon them to such an extent that five or six pipes were filled and finished ere the story came to a close. Martin also related his adventures; to which his companion listened with such breathless attention and earnestness that his pipe was constantly going out; and the two friends did not retire to rest till near day-break.

The substance of the Baron’s narrative was as follows:—

At the time that he had been so suddenly separated from his friend, Barney had overcome many of his opponents, but at length he was overpowered by numbers, and his arms were firmly bound; after which he was roughly driven before them through the woods for several days, and was at length taken to their village among the mountains. Here he remained a close prisoner for three weeks, shut up in a small hut and bound by a strong rope to a post. Food was taken to him by an old Indian woman, who paid no attention at first to what he said to her, for the good reason that she did not understand a word of English. The persuasive eloquence of her prisoner’s tones, however, or perhaps his brogue, seemed in the course of a few days to have made an impression on her; for she condescended to smile at the unintelligible compliments which Barney lavished upon her in the hope of securing her good-will.

During all this time the Irishman’s heart was torn with conflicting feelings, and although, from the mere force of habit, he could jest with the old woman when she paid her daily visits, there was no feeling of fun in his bosom, but, on the contrary, a deep and overwhelming sorrow, which showed itself very evidently on his expressive face. He groaned aloud when he thought of Martin, whom he never expected again to see; and he dreaded every hour the approach of his savage captors, who, he fully expected, retained him in order to put him to death.

One day, while he was sitting in a very disconsolate mood, the Indian woman entered with his usual dinner,—a plate of thick soup and a coarse cake. Barney smiled upon her as usual, and then letting his eyes fall on the ground, sighed deeply,—for his heart was heavier than usual that day. As the woman was about to go, he looked earnestly and gravely in her face, and putting his large hand gently on her head, patted her grey hairs. This tender action seemed to affect the old woman more than usual. She laid her hand on Barney’s arm, and looked as if she wished to speak. Then turning suddenly from him, she drew a small knife from her girdle and dropped it on the ground, as if accidentally, while she left the hut and re-fastened the door. Barney’s heart leaped. He seized the knife and concealed it hastily in his bosom, and then ate his dinner with more than ordinary zest; for now he possessed the means of cutting the strong rope that bound him.

He waited with much impatience until night closed over the Indian village, and, then cutting his bonds, he tore down the rude and rather feeble fastenings of the door. In another instant he was dashing along at full speed through the forest, without hat or coat, and with the knife clutched in his right hand. Presently he heard cries behind him, and redoubled his speed; for now he knew that the savages had discovered his escape, and were in pursuit. But, although a good runner, Barney was no match for the lithe and naked Indians. They rapidly gained on him, and he was about to turn at bay and fight for his life, when he observed water gleaming through the foliage on his left. Dashing down a glade he came to the edge of a broad river with a rapid current. Into this he sprang recklessly, intending to swim with the stream; but ere he lost his footing he heard the low deep thunder of a cataract a short distance below! Drawing back in terror, he regained the bank, and waded up a considerable distance in the shallow water, so as to leave no trace of his footsteps. Then he leaped upon a rock, and, catching hold of the lower branches of a large tree, drew himself up among the dense foliage, just as the yelling savages rushed with wild tumult to the water’s edge. Here they paused, as if baffled. They spoke in rapid, vehement tones for a few seconds, and then one party hastened down the banks of the stream towards the fall, while another band searched the banks above.

Barney’s heart fell as he sat panting in the tree, for he knew that they would soon discover him. But he soon resolved on a bold expedient. Slipping down from the tree, he ran deliberately back towards the village; and, as he drew near, he followed the regular beaten track that led towards it. On the way he encountered one or two savages hastening after the pursuing party; but he leaped lightly into the bushes, and lay still till they were past. Then he ran on, skirted round the village, and pushed into the woods in an entirely opposite direction, from the one in which he had first set out. Keeping by one of the numerous tracks that radiated from the village into the forest he held on at top speed, until his progress was suddenly arrested by a stream about twenty yards broad. It was very deep, and he was about to plunge in, in order to swim across, when he observed a small montaria, or canoe, lying on the bank. This he launched quickly, and observing that the river took a bend a little further down, and appeared to proceed in the direction he wished to pursue,—namely, away from the Indian village,—he paddled down the rapid stream as fast as he could. The current was very strong, so that his little bark flew down it like an arrow, and on more than one occasion narrowly missed being dashed to pieces on the rocks which here and there rose above the stream.

In about two hours Barney came to a place where the stream took another bend to the left, and soon after, the canoe swept out upon the broad river into which he had at first so nearly plunged. He was a long way below the fall now, for its sound was inaudible; but it was no time to abate his exertions. The Indians might be still in pursuit; so he continued to paddle all that night and did not take rest until day-break. Then he slept for two hours, ate a few wild fruits, and continued his journey.

In the course of the next day, to his great joy, he overtook a trading canoe, which had been up another tributary of this river, and was descending with part of a cargo of India-rubber shoes. None of the men, of whom there were four, could speak English; but they easily saw from the Irishman’s condition that he had escaped from enemies and was in distress; so they took him on board, and were glad to avail themselves of his services: for, as we have before mentioned, men are not easily procured for voyaging in those parts of Brazil. Three weeks after this they arrived at a small town, where the natives were busily engaged in the manufacture of shoes, bottles, and other articles of India-rubber; and here Barney found employment for a short time.

The seringa, or India-rubber-tree, grows plentifully in some parts of Brazil, and many hundreds of the inhabitants are employed in the manufacture of shoes. The India-rubber is the juice of the tree, and flows from it when an incision is made. This juice is poured into moulds and left to harden. It is of a yellowish colour naturally, and is blackened in the course of preparation. Barney did not stay long here. Shoe-making, he declared, was not his calling by any means; so he seized the first opportunity he had of joining a party of traders going into the interior, in the direction of the diamond districts. The journey was long and varied. Sometimes by canoe and sometimes on the backs of mules and horses, and many extraordinary adventures did he go through ere he reached the diamond mines. And when at length he did so, great was his disappointment. Instead of the glittering caves which his vivid imagination had pictured, he found that there were no caves at all; that the diamonds were found by washing in the muddy soil; and, worst of all, that when found they were dim and unpolished, so that they seemed no better than any other stone. However, he resolved to continue there for a short time, in order to make a little money; but now that Martin had arrived he thought that they could not do better than make their way to the coast as fast as possible, and go to sea.

“The only thing I have to regret,” he said, at the conclusion of his narrative, “is that I left Grampus behind me. But arrah! I came off from the savages in such a hurry that I had no time at all to tell him I was goin’!”

Having sat till day-break, the two friends went to bed to dream of each other and of home.

Next morning Barney took Martin to visit the diamond mines. On the way they passed a band of Negro slaves who encircled a large fire, the weather being very cold. It was at that time about the end of July, which is one of the coldest months in the year. In this part of Brazil summer and winter are reversed,—the coldest months being May, June, and July; the hottest, November, December, January, and February.

Minas Geraes, the diamond district, is one of the richest provinces of Brazil. The inhabitants are almost entirely occupied in mining or in supplying the miners with the necessaries of life. Diggers and shopkeepers are the two principal classes, and of these the latter are best off; for their trade is steady and lucrative, while the success of the miners is very uncertain. Frequently a large sum of money and much time are expended in mining without any adequate result; but the merchants always find a ready sale for their merchandise, and, as they take diamonds and gold-dust in exchange, they generally realise large profits and soon become rich. The poor miner is like the gambler. He digs on in hope; sometimes finding barely enough to supply his wants,—at other times making a fortune suddenly; but never giving up in despair, because he knows that at every handful of earth he turns up he may perhaps find a diamond worth hundreds, or, it may be, thousands of pounds.

Cidade Diamantina,—the City of Diamonds,—is the capital of the province. It is a large city, with many fine churches and buildings; and the whole population, consisting of more than 6000 souls, are engaged, directly or indirectly, in mining. Every one who owns a few slaves employs them in washing the earth for gold and diamonds.

The mine of which Barney had so unexpectedly become overseer, was a small one, in a remote part of the district, situated among the mountains, and far-distant from the City of Diamonds. There were only a few huts, rudely built and roofed with palm-leaves, besides a larger building, or cottage, in which the Baron Fagoni resided.

“’Tis a strange life they lead here,” said Barney, as he led Martin down a gorge of the mountains, towards a small spot of level ground, on which the slaves were at work; “a strange life, and by no means a pleasant wan; for the feedin’ is none o’ the best and the work very sevare.”

“Why, Barney, if I may judge from last night’s supper, the feeding seems to be excellent.”

“Thrue, boy, the Baron Fagoni feeds well, bekase he’s the cock o’ the roost; but the poor Naygurs are not overly well fed, and the critters are up to their knees in wather all day, washing di’monds; so they suffer much from rheumatiz and colds. Och, but it’s murther entirely; an’ I’ve more than wance felt inclined to fill their pockets with di’monds and set them all free! Jist look, now, there they are, hard at it.”

As he spoke they arrived at the mine. The ground in the vicinity was all cut up and dug out to a considerable depth, and a dozen Negroes were standing under a shed washing the earth, while others were engaged in the holes excavating the material. While Martin watched them his friend explained the process.

The different kinds of soil through which it is necessary to cut before reaching the diamond deposit are, first about twenty feet of reddish sandy soil; then about eight feet of a tough yellowish clay; beneath this lies a layer of coarse reddish sand, below which is the peculiar soil in which diamonds are found. It is called by the miners the cascalho, and consists of loose gravel, the pebbles of which are rounded and polished, having at some previous era been subject to the action of running water. The bed varies in thickness from one to four feet and the pebbles are of various kinds; but when there are many of a species called Esmerilo preto, the cascalho is considered to be rich in diamonds.

Taking Martin round to the back of the shed, Barney showed him a row of troughs, about three feet square, close to the edge of a pond of water. These troughs are called bacos. In front of each stood a Negro slave up to his knees in water. Each had a wooden plate, with which he dashed water upon the rough cascalho as it was thrown into the trough by another slave. By this means, and by stirring it with a small hoe, the earth and sand are washed away. Two overseers were closely watching the process; for it is during this part of the operation that the largest diamonds are found. These overseers were seated on elevated seats, each being armed with a long leathern whip, to keep a sharp look-out, for the slaves are expert thieves.

After the cascalho had been thus purified, it was carefully removed to the shed to be finally washed.

Here seven slaves were seated on the side of a small canal, about four feet broad, with their legs in the water nearly up to their knees. This canal is called the lavadeira. Each man had a small wooden platter, into which another slave, who stood behind him, put a shovelful of purified cascalho. The bateia, or platter, was then filled with water and washed with the utmost care several times, being closely examined after each washing, and the diamonds picked out. Sometimes many platefuls were examined but nothing found; at other times several diamonds were found in one plate. While Martin was looking on with much curiosity and interest, one of the slaves uttered an exclamation and held up a minute stone between his finger and thumb.

“Ah! good luck to ye, lad!” said Barney, advancing and taking the diamond which had been discovered. “See here, Martin; there’s the thing, lad, that sparkles on the brow o’ beauty, and gives the Naygurs rheumatiz—”

“Not to mention their usefulness in providing the great Baron Fagoni with a livelihood,” added Martin, with a smile.

Barney laughed, and going up to the place where the two overseers were seated, dropped the precious gem into a plate of water placed between them for the purpose of receiving the diamonds as they were found.

“They git fifteen or twinty a day sometimes,” said Barney, as they retraced their steps to the cottage; “and I’ve hear’d o’ them getting stones worth many thousands o’ pounds; but the biggest they iver found since I comed here was not worth more than four hundred.”

“And what do you do with them, Barney, when they are found?” inquired Martin.

“Sind them to Rio Janeiro, lad, where my employer sells them. I don’t know how much he makes a year by it; but the thing must pay, for he’s very liberal with his cash, and niver forgits to pay wages. There’s always a lot o’ gould-dust found in the bottom o’ the bateia after each washing, and that is carefully collected and sold. But, arrah! I wouldn’t give wan snifter o’ the say-breezes for all the di’monds in Brazil!”

As Barney said this he entered his cottage and flung down his hat with the air of a man who was resolved to stand it no longer.

“But why don’t you wash on your own account?” cried Martin. “What say you; shall we begin together? We may make our fortune the first week, perhaps!”

Barney shook his head. “No, no, boy; I’ve no faith in my luck with the di’monds or gould. Nevertheless I have hear’d o’ men makin’ an awful heap o’ money that way; partiklarly wan man that made his fortin with wan stone.”

“Who was that lucky dog?” asked Martin.

“Well, ye see, it happened this way: There’s a custom hereaway that slaves are allowed to work on Sundays and holidays on their own account; but when the mines was a government consarn this was not allowed, and the slaves were the most awful thieves livin’, and often made off with some o’ the largest di’monds. Well, there was a man named Juiz de Paz, who owned a small shop, and used to go down now and then to Rio de Janeiro to buy goods. Wan evenin’ he returned from wan o’ his long journeys, and, bein’ rather tired, wint to bed. He was jist goin’ off into a comfortable doze when there came a terrible bumpin’ at the door.

“‘Hallo!’ cried Juiz, growlin’ angrily in the Portugee tongue; ‘what d’ye want?’

“There was no answer but another bumpin’ at the door. So up he jumps, and, takin’ down a big blunderbuss that hung over his bed, opened the door, an’ seized a Naygur be the hair o’ the head!

“‘Oh, massa! oh, massa! let him go! Got di’mond for to sell!’

“On hearin’ this, Juiz let go, and found that the slave had come to offer for sale a large di’mond, which weighed about two penny-weights and a third.

“‘What d’ye ask for it?’ said Juiz, with sparklin’ eyes.

“‘Six hundred mil-reis,’ answered the Naygur.

“This was about equal to 180 pounds sterling. Without more words about it he paid down the money; and the slave went away. Juiz lost his sleep that night. He went and tould the neighbours he had forgot a piece of important business in Rio and must go back at wance. So back he went and stayed some time in the city, tryin’ to git his di’mond safely sold; for it was sich a big wan that he feared the government fellows might hear o’t; in which case he would have got ten years transportation to Angola on the coast of Africa. At last however, he got rid of it for 20,000 mil-reis, which is about 6000 pounds. It was all paid to him in hard dollars; and he nearly went out o’ his wits for joy. But he was brought down a peg nixt day, when he found that the same di’mond was sold for nearly twice as much as he had got for it. Howiver, he had made a pretty considerable fortin; an’ he’s now the richest di’mond and gould merchant in the district.”

“A lucky fellow certainly,” said Martin. “But I must say I have no taste for such chance work; so I’m quite ready to start for the sea-coast whenever it suits the Baron Fagoni’s convenience.”

While they were speaking they were attracted by voices outside the cottage, which sounded as if in altercation. In another minute the door burst open, and a man entered hurriedly, followed by the interpreter.

“Your overseer is impertinent!” exclaimed the man, who was a tall swarthy Brazilian. “I wish to buy a horse or a good mule, and he won’t let me have one. I am not a beggar; I offer to pay.”

The man spoke in Portuguese, and Barney replied in the same language.

“You can have a horse if you pay for it.”

The Brazilian replied by throwing a heavy bag of dollars on the table.

“All right,” said Barney, turning to his interpreter and conversing with him in an undertone. “Give him what he requires.” So saying he bowed the Brazilian out of the room, and returned to the enjoyment of his black pipe, which had been interrupted by the incident.