Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth by - (best books to read for self development TXT) 📕

Yeo started up from the gun where he sat.

“I can't abear it! As I live, I can't! You, Indian maiden, where did you learn to sing that there?”

Ayacanora looked up at him, half frightened by his vehemence, then at Amyas, to see if she had been doing anything wrong; and then turned saucily away, looked over the side, and hummed on.

“Ask her, for mercy's sake—ask her, Captain Leigh!”

“My child,” said Amyas, speaking in Indian, “how is it you sing that so much better than any other English? Did you ever hear it before?”

Ayacanora looked up at him puzzled, and shook her head; and then—

“If you tell Indian to Ayacanora, she dumb. She must be English girl now, like poor Lucy.”

“Well then,” said Amyas, “do you recollect, Ayacanora—do you recollect—what shall I say? anything that happened when you were a little girl?”

She paused awhile; and then moving her hands overhead—

“Trees—great trees like the Magdalena—always nothing but trees—wild and bad everything. Ayacanora won't talk about that.”

“Do you mind anything that grew on those trees?” asked Yeo, eagerly.

She laughed. “Silly! Flowers and fruit, and nuts—grow on all trees, and monkey-cups too. Ayacanora climbed up after them—when she was wild. I won't tell any more.”

“But who taught you to call them monkey-cups?” asked Yeo, trembling with excitement.

“Monkey's drink; mono drink.”

“Mono?” said Yeo, foiled on one cast, and now trying another. “How did you know the beasts were called monos?”

“She might have heard it coming down with us,” said Cary, who had joined the group.

“Ay, monos,” said she, in a self-justifying tone. “Faces like little men, and tails. And one very dirty black one, with a beard, say Amen in a tree to all the other monkeys, just like Sir John on Sunday.”

This allusion to Brimblecombe and the preaching apes upset all but old Yeo.

“But don't you recollect any Christians?—white people?”

She was silent.

“Don't you mind a white lady?”

“Um?”

“A woman, a very pretty woman, with hair like his?” pointing to Amyas.

“No.”

“What do you mind, then, beside those Indians?” added Yeo, in despair.

She turned her back on him peevishly, as if tired with the efforts of her memory.

“Do try to remember,” said Amyas; and she set to work again at once.

“Ayacanora mind great monkeys—black, oh, so high,” and she held up her hand above her head, and made a violent gesture of disgust.

“Monkeys? what, with tails?”

“No, like man. Ah! yes—just like Cooky there—dirty Cooky!”

And that hapless son of Ham, who happened to be just crossing the main-deck, heard a marlingspike, which by ill luck was lying at hand, flying past his ears.

“Ayacanora, if you heave any more things at Cooky, I must have you whipped,” said Amyas, without, of course, any such intention.

“I'll kill you, then,” answered she, in the most matter-of-fact tone.

“She must mean negurs,” said Yeo; “I wonder where she saw them, now. What if it were they Cimaroons?”

“But why should any one who had seen whites forget them, and yet remember negroes?” asked Cary.

“Let us try again. Do you mind no great monkeys but those black ones?” asked Amyas.

“Yes,” she said, after a while,—“devil.”

“Devil?” asked all three, who, of course, were by no means free from the belief that the fiend did actually appear to the Indian conjurors, such as had brought up the girl.

“Ay, him Sir John tell about on Sundays.”

“Save and help us!” said Yeo; “and what was he like unto?”

She made various signs to intimate that he had a monkey's face, and a gray beard like Yeo's. So far so good: but now came a series of manipulations about her pretty little neck, which set all their fancies at fault.

“I know,” said Cary, at last, bursting into a great laugh. “Sir Urian had a ruff on, as I live! Trunk-hose too, my fair dame? Stop—I'll make sure. Was his neck like the senor commandant's, the Spaniard?”

Ayacanora clapped her hands at finding herself understood, and the questioning went on.

“The 'devil' appeared like a monkey, with a gray beard, in a ruff;—humph!—”

“Ay!” said she in good enough Spanish, “Mono de Panama; viejo diablo de Panama.”

Yeo threw up his hands with a shriek—“Oh Lord of all mercies! Those were the last words of Mr. John Oxenham! Ay—and the devil is surely none other than the devil Don Francisco Xararte! Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! my sweet young lady! my pretty little maid! and don't you know me? Don't you know Salvation Yeo, that carried you over the mountains, and used to climb for the monkey-cups for you, my dear young lady? And William Penberthy too, that used to get you flowers; and your poor dear father, that was just like Mr. Cary there, only he had a black beard, and black curls, and swore terribly in his speech, like a Spaniard, my dear young lady?”

And the honest fellow, falling on his knees, covered Ayacanora's hands with kisses; while all the crew, fancying him gone suddenly mad, crowded aft.

“Steady, men, and don't vex him!” said Amyas. “He thinks that he has found his little maid at last.”

“And so do I, Amyas, as I live,” said Cary.

“Steady, steady, my masters all! If this turn out a wrong scent after all, his wits will crack. Mr. Yeo, can't you think of any other token?”

Yeo stamped impatiently. “What need then? it's her, I tell ye, and that's enough! What a beauty she's grown! Oh dear! where were my eyes all this time, to behold her, and not to see her! 'Tis her very mortal self, it is! And don't you mind me, my dear, now? Don't you mind Salvation Yeo, that taught you to sing 'Heave my mariners all, O!' a-sitting on a log by the boat upon the sand, and there was a sight of red lilies grew on it in the moss, dear, now, wasn't there? and we made posies of them to put in your hair, now?”—And the poor old man ran on in a supplicating, suggestive tone, as if he could persuade the