Jules Verne For Children: 16 Incredible Tales of Mystery, Courage & Adventure (Illustrated Edition). Jules VerneЧитать онлайн книгу.
slavery long ago, and the South has been obliged to follow the example of the North!”
“Ah! that is so,” replied Harris. “I had forgotten that the war of 1862 had decided that grave question. I ask those honest men’s pardon for it,” added Harris, with that delicate irony which a Southerner must put into his language when speaking to blacks. “But on seeing those gentlemen in your service, I believed——”
“They are not, and have never been, in my service, sir,” replied Mrs. Weldon, gravely.
“We should be honored in serving you, Mrs. Weldon,” then said old Tom. “But, as Mr. Harris knows, we do not belong to anybody. I have been a slave myself, it is true, and sold as such in Africa, when I was only six years old; but my son Bat, here, was born of an enfranchised father, and, as to our companions, they were born of free parents.”
“I can only congratulate you about it,” replied Harris, in a tone which Mrs. Weldon did not find sufficiently serious. “In this land of Bolivia, also, we have no slaves. Then you have nothing to fear, and you can go about as freely here as in the New England States.”
At that moment little Jack, followed by Nan, came out of the grotto rubbing his eyes. Then, perceiving his mother, he ran to her. Mrs. Weldon embraced him tenderly.
“The charming little boy!” said the American, approaching Jack.
“It is my son,” replied Mrs. Weldon.
“Oh, Mrs. Weldon, you must have been doubly tried, because your child has been exposed to so many dangers.”
“God has brought him out of them safe and sound, as He has us, Mr. Harris,” replied Mrs. Weldon.
“Will you permit me to kiss him on his pretty cheeks?” asked Harris.
“Willingly,” replied Mrs. Weldon.
But Mr. Harris’s face, it appeared, did not please little Jack, for he clung more closely to his mother.
“Hold!” said Harris, “you do not want me to embrace you? You are afraid of me, my good little man?”
“Excuse him, sir,” Mrs. Weldon hastened to say. “It is timidity on his part.”
“Good! we shall become better acquainted,” replied Harris. “Once at the Farm, he will amuse himself mounting a gentle pony, which will tell him good things of me.”
But the offer of the gentle pony did not succeed in cajoling Jack any more than the proposition to embrace Mr. Harris.
Mrs. Weldon, thus opposed, hastened to change the conversation. They must not offend a man who had so obligingly offered his services.
During this time Dick Sand was reflecting on the proposition which had been made to them so opportunely, to gain the Farm of San Felice. It was, as Harris had said, a journey of over two hundred miles, sometimes through forests, sometimes through plains—a very fatiguing journey, certainly, because there were absolutely no means of transport.
The young novice then presented some observations to that effect, and waited for the reply the American was going to make.
“The journey is a little long, indeed,” replied Harris, “but I have there, a few hundred feet behind the steep bank, a horse which I count on offering to Mrs. Weldon and her son. For us, there is nothing difficult, nor even very fatiguing in making the journey on foot. Besides, when I spoke of two hundred miles, it was by following, as I have already done, the course of this river. But if we go through the forest, our distance will be shortened by at least eighty miles. Now, at the rate of ten miles a day, it seems to me that we shall arrive at the Farm without too much distress.”
Mrs. Weldon thanked the American.
“You cannot thank me better than by accepting,” replied Harris. “Though I have never crossed this forest, I do not believe I shall be embarrassed in finding the way, being sufficiently accustomed to the pampas. But there is a graver question—that of food. I have only what is barely enough for myself while on the way to the Farm of San Felice.”
“Mr. Harris,” replied Mrs. Weldon, “fortunately we have food in more than sufficient quantity, and we shall be happy to share with you.”
“Well, Mrs. Weldon, it seems to me that all is arranged for the best, and that we have only to set out.”
Harris went toward the steep bank, with the intention of going to take his horse from the place where he had left it, when Dick Sand stopped him again, by asking him a question.
To abandon the sea-coast, to force his way into the interior of the country, under that interminable forest, did not please the young novice. The sailor reappeared in him, and either to ascend or descend the coast would be more to his mind.
“Mr. Harris,” said he, “instead of traveling for one hundred and twenty miles in the Desert of Atacama, why not follow the coast? Distance for distance, would it not be better worth while to seek to reach the nearest town, either north or south?”
“But my young friend,” replied Harris, frowning slightly, “it seems to me that on this coast, which I know very imperfectly, there is no town nearer than three or four hundred miles.”
“To the north, yes,” replied Dick Sand; “but to the south——”
“To the south,” replied the American, “we must descend as far as Chili. Now, the distance is almost as long, and, in your place, I should not like to pass near the pampas of the Argentine Republic. As to me, to my great regret, I could not accompany you there.”
“The ships which go from Chili to Peru, do they not pass, then, in sight of this coast?” asked Mrs. Weldon.
“No,” replied Harris. “They keep much more out at sea, and you ought not to meet any of them.”
“Truly,” replied Mrs. Weldon. “Well, Dick, have you still some question to ask Mr. Harris?”
“A single one, Mrs. Weldon,” replied the novice, who experienced some difficulty in giving up. “I shall ask Mr. Harris in what port he thinks we shall be able to find a ship to bring us back to San Francisco?”
“Faith, my young friend, I could not tell you,” replied the American. “All that I know is, that at the Farm of San Felice we will furnish you with the means of gaining the town of Atacama, and from there——”
“Mr. Harris,” then said Mrs. Weldon, “do not believe that Dick Sand hesitates to accept your offers.”
“No, Mrs. Weldon, no; surely I do not hesitate,” replied the young novice; “but I cannot help regretting not being stranded a few degrees farther north or farther south. We should have been in proximity to a port, and that circumstance, in facilitating our return to our country, would prevent us from taxing Mr. Harris’s good will.”
“Do not fear imposing upon me, Mrs. Weldon,” returned Harris. “I repeat to you that too rarely have I occasion to find myself again in the presence of my compatriots. For me it is a real pleasure to oblige you.”
“We accept your offer, Mr. Harris,” replied Mrs. Weldon; “but I should not wish, however, to deprive you of your horse. I am a good walker——”
“And I am a very good walker,” replied Harris, bowing. “Accustomed to long journeys across the pampas, it is not I who will keep back our caravan. No, Mrs. Weldon, you and your little Jack will use this horse. Besides, it is possible that we may meet some of the farm servants on the way, and, as they will be mounted—well, they will yield their horses to us.”
Dick Sand saw well that in making new objections he would oppose Mrs. Weldon.
“Mr. Harris,” said he, “when do we set out?”
“Even