The Private Diary of Elizabeth Quatermain, vol. III: The Wintering
by Lady Norbert
---------------
16 January 1900
Today we actually went ashore for a while, in a town called Barra. It was a bustling little city which did little to impress me, if I may be honest; the dingy buildings reminded me somehow of some of London's less pleasant neighbourhoods.
One thing which was of interest to me, as a student of botany, was a visit to the local apothecary. There are many, many useful plants growing in the jungles of South America, and I was able to purchase two specimens to add to my herbarium. One is called ipecachuana, from the root of which can be fashioned a medicine to induce vomiting if someone has swallowed poison; the other is flor da terra, which is used to cure dysentery. Henry was most approving of my selections, and I have promised a supply of both medicines for the infirmary supplies. The man who sold me the plants told me how to correctly manufacture the remedies, and Mina and I will undertake the endeavour together as part of her lessons in herb lore.
---------------
17 January 1900
This afternoon I spent some time alone on the deck, watching the antics of a large family of monkeys. They were swinging in the trees along the shore, chattering madly to each other as they jumped from one branch to the next. They were really quite adorable and I almost wanted to have one for a pet. I knew someone in London who did have a pet monkey, however, and I wouldn't truly want to keep one.
Thanks to a guidebook I found in the library, I've been able to identify a number of the plants along the river as well as many more of the animals. I've spotted Brazilian tapirs, giant anteaters, anacondas, and a three-toed sloth. In the plant family I've seen passion fruit, plantain trees (plantains are cousins of bananas), and all manner of wild and exotic flowers, so beautiful I long to go and gather them.
---------------
19 January 1900
We passed the mouth of the Içá River today, yet another of the Amazon's tributaries. It should be no more than a week, Nemo says, until we reach the Apurimac.
Skinner is quite amusing. The humidity makes it rather unbearable for him to wear his greasepaint, which I can readily understand. So instead, we are treated to the sight of a shirt and pants walking around, seemingly under their own power; now and then a pair of dark pince-nez glasses is added to the mobile ensemble. I've tried very hard not to laugh, for he's too dear to me to wish to possibly offend him, but it's been difficult.
According to something I read during one of the downpours that sent us indoors, many of the explorers who came to this part of the world were obsessed with finding the lost city of El Dorado, a fantastic place filled with gold and treasure. I know Nemo well enough to know that's not his intention -- the man pursues history and science, not wealth -- but all the same, I wonder if it ever did exist.
---------------
21 January 1900
Skinner really is my dearest friend.
I was dozing, to be truthful, in the library this afternoon. I was curled up in one of the chairs, my feet under me, with the Shakespeare book in my lap. It was raining again, of course. Then I felt someone take the book from me, but I didn't open my eyes.
"Bess. Bessie, wake up."
"Mm. No."
He chuckled. "Come on, love, wake up. Got something to show you."
I opened one eye and looked at the place where I estimated his eyes to be. "What?"
"Just come on. Trust me."
Well, as it happens, I do trust him, so I got up and followed him out of the library.
"Hurry, Bess, I don't know how long they'll wait."
I didn't have a clue what he meant until we reached the underwater observatory. He led me over to one of the big windows on the starboard side of the ship, and I gasped in astonishment.
There were no less than six Boto -- the pink dolphins I'd so hoped to see -- cavorting in the water just outside the submarine. They were swimming alongside us, as though racing the Nautilus down the river. I moved to press my hands against the glass, and the nearest dolphin actually looked at me as it swam. I felt connected to it, somehow. It was amazing, as though the dolphin and I understood one another.
"Knew you wanted to see them," said Skinner's voice behind me.
"They're so beautiful!" I couldn't tear my eyes away. Even in the depths of the dark water, I could see the flashes of pink in their skin. The sleek bodies knifed through the river as cleanly as the Nautilus herself. "My word, I think they're the loveliest things I've ever seen."
"Rather a fetching view," he agreed, coming to stand beside me. We watched in silence for several minutes, but at last, the dolphins grew weary of the game and allowed themselves to be outstripped by the sub.
"So...mad at me for interrupting your kip?" he asked slyly.
"No," I replied, smiling at him. "Thank you. I did want to see them, very much." Not really sure what else to say, or to do, I caught his invisible hand and squeezed it gratefully.
It was an odd moment. I think the best way I can describe it is to say that the air around us changed; it seemed heavy, somehow, as if there were something hanging between us. We looked at each other, not saying anything. Then we heard footsteps in the hall outside, and I realized I was still holding his hand, so I released it.
Jaya appeared in the doorway. "Missee Sahib Quatermain, Mr. Skinner -- I am sent to tell you that the others are taking their tea in the stateroom and would like you to join them."
"Thank you, Jaya, we'll be right along," I said. He inclined his head and withdrew. I looked at Skinner again.
"Thank you," I repeated.
"You're welcome," he said affably. He waved me toward the door. "Shall we, then?"
"Of course."
---------------
22 January 1900
We are very near the end of the river journey. When we reach the Apurimac, we will put ashore and camp for a night on the beach, just for the experience of camping on the Amazon. Then we will journey to Cuzco, which is not far (I am told), where we will rent mules to make our attempt up the mountain where Nemo believes the cities to be.
---------------
23 January 1900
The Apurimac, at last! The beach on which we have set up camp is pristine white, and very pretty. A handful of Nemo's men will accompany us on our trek, to guard our safety and see to our well-being.
Our camping arrangements are to be similar to those we used in Egypt; but as Mina and Henry are now married, they will share the tent she had previously shared with me, and another, much smaller tent has been brought for me to use. This time, thank goodness, we need not fear incursion by crocodiles. We must again sleep under mosquito netting, but I prefer that to insect invasion. The river is not as hugely swollen here, and the water seems somehow cleaner. The heat is terrible, so I think perhaps I will walk down the shoreline a bit, then take off my shoes and wade into the shallowest water to cool down.
later
Well, that was not one of my brightest ideas.
It started out well enough at first. I simply mentioned to the others that I was walking down the river a little way, not too far from the camp of course, and off I went.
When I felt I was decently obscured from the gentlemen, I removed my shoes and pulled my skirts up a bit in order to wade in the river. I only went in to ankle-depth, then crouched down in a sitting position to splash some of the cool water onto my face and throat. It was deeply satisfying. There were many rocks about -- the Apurimac has quite a number of rapids and could be quite dangerous if navigated by boat -- and I thought the sound of the water running over these was quite pleasant.
Then I heard something else.
Very slowly, and still crouched, I turned around. At first I could see nothing; then I observed a bit of movement in the trees. Squinting, I realized I was looking at a puma, one of the jaguar's cousins which lives in the region. I'd read about the two big cats, and everything I'd read made it sound like the jaguar was more to be feared. The puma was big, certainly, with tawny-red fur, but I thought it would conclude our little staring contest and move back into the jungle.
I was quite wrong. Stealthily it emerged, never taking its eyes off of me. When it was no more than six feet away, it stopped. I eased myself up to my unimpressive full height, thinking perhaps it would leave me alone if it believed I was bigger and more dangerous. It was apparently not fooled, for it promptly growled and hunkered down to spring. I took a step backward, and just that quick, the puma pounced. I heard myself scream.
A crack rent the air, which at the moment I failed to understand, and then the full weight of the beast was upon me. I was knocked backwards into the water, narrowly missing the rocks, and the puma's body was just heavy enough that I could not free myself. I struggled against the burden, but I was well and truly pinned to the shallow river floor. I thought for certain I was going to drown.
Mercifully, I felt something pulling the puma away from my body almost at once, and a pair of arms gathered about me and pulled me from the water. I sputtered wildly, trying to breathe and, in my bewildered state, fought against the arms which supported me. My brain seemed muddied, as though I'd hit my head, and I could not even see properly.
"Easy, Bess, easy! We've got you!"
Somehow the voice penetrated my terror, and I stopped struggling. I continued to spit up water, however, and gradually my vision cleared. I could see Tom, Winchester at the ready, standing a few feet away from me with Mina, Henry, and Nemo. Rodney was holding me upright; two of Nemo's men were wrestling with the body of the puma. It was dead.
As it has been explained to me, one of Nemo's men had been ordered to keep an eye on me from a distance. When the puma had pounced, the crack I'd heard was a shot from his rifle. It missed, however, and it took a second shot (which I'd failed to register under the water) to kill the animal. Given how much trouble I've managed to find when left to my own devices, I suppose I really can't blame Nemo for having me watched. When I screamed, the others had come running.
"Just in time to see you and the cat wrestling in the water," Henry said grimly. "It was rather horrible, if you don't mind my saying so."
"You're very lucky, Elizabeth," Nemo added. It was as close to scolding me as he has ever come. "The piranha do not live in this part of the river."
Piranha -- the flesh-eaters. That thought made me tremble.
"Let's get you back to camp," said Mina. "You've got to get into dry clothes and rest a bit."
I tried to take a step on my own and almost collapsed from the sudden pain. Looking down, I pulled aside my skirt to reveal my torn stocking and bleeding leg. I suppose I'd been cut by one of the puma's claws.
"Right," I heard Skinner mutter. "Hang on then, Bess." He held me about the waist with one arm, and deftly hooked the other under my knees in order to carry me back to the camp. I felt silly, really, because camp was such a short distance away, but all the same I was relieved for the assistance. I put my arms around his invisible neck and just shook the whole way back to the camp site.
Mina was waiting by my tent. I did register the odd quirk of her eyebrow when she looked at us -- and I imagine I looked ridiculous, shivering and clinging to him as I was -- but she did not comment on it. Instead, she said, "I laid out dry clothing on your cot, Elizabeth, and there are some towels. Henry says you should lie still for a time until you calm down."
"She's bleeding," Skinner told her. He carried me in and set me on the cot beside the garments. Mina left and returned with Henry's kit, and after Skinner left us, she took care of my leg and answered my questions about what had happened. Then she again told me to rest.
That was perhaps an hour ago, and I've not yet emerged. I feel like the mother of fools. How could I have been so stupid as to go off alone in the middle of the jungle? I think I owe everyone a rather large apology, to say nothing of a thank-you.
later still
It's growing late, and I must rest before tomorrow's trip to Cuzco, but I have to record what has been said.
As is so often the case, my thanks and apologies were accepted with good humour by all involved. I do not know whether they indulge me so much because they are fond of me, or because they were so fond of my father, or what the reason is that they forgive so easily. Tom's comment on the matter was amusing, if not illuminating: "We don't get much chance to be bored with you around, Elizabeth."
The "prize" of the puma which attacked me was still a matter to be determined when I emerged from the tent. At length it was decided to have the beast skinned and turned into a rug for the ship library.
I did get to have a word with Skinner before we retired for the evening, in order to thank him a bit more properly for pulling me out of the river and carrying me back to camp. He shrugged it off, saying, "Wasn't going to let you drown, was I?"
"How did you get there so fast, anyway?" I asked him. "I don't think I was under the water all that long."
At that, he chuckled. "You should know by now that I don't let you too far out of my sight, Bess. It's not easy being your invisible shield when you go wandering off on your own."
This was something I'd wanted to ask him about for a long time, and since he'd brought it up, I figured I might as well go ahead. "Why do you do that?"
"What? The shield thing?" Again he shrugged. "Somebody's got to look after you. You're like a magnet for trouble." He stretched then, and yawned; the others had already gone to their respective tents. "Best get some sleep, love. You've had a busy day and we've got to be up a bit early tomorrow."
"All right." I stood up. Feeling as though I owed him some gesture of appreciation -- how many people can say they have an invisible shield protecting them all the time? -- I summoned what daring I possess, bent, and kissed the top of his unseen head. "Good night."
He paused, as though I'd completely dumbfounded him. "Good night, Bessie," he said finally.
by Lady Norbert
16 January 1900
Today we actually went ashore for a while, in a town called Barra. It was a bustling little city which did little to impress me, if I may be honest; the dingy buildings reminded me somehow of some of London's less pleasant neighbourhoods.
One thing which was of interest to me, as a student of botany, was a visit to the local apothecary. There are many, many useful plants growing in the jungles of South America, and I was able to purchase two specimens to add to my herbarium. One is called ipecachuana, from the root of which can be fashioned a medicine to induce vomiting if someone has swallowed poison; the other is flor da terra, which is used to cure dysentery. Henry was most approving of my selections, and I have promised a supply of both medicines for the infirmary supplies. The man who sold me the plants told me how to correctly manufacture the remedies, and Mina and I will undertake the endeavour together as part of her lessons in herb lore.
17 January 1900
This afternoon I spent some time alone on the deck, watching the antics of a large family of monkeys. They were swinging in the trees along the shore, chattering madly to each other as they jumped from one branch to the next. They were really quite adorable and I almost wanted to have one for a pet. I knew someone in London who did have a pet monkey, however, and I wouldn't truly want to keep one.
Thanks to a guidebook I found in the library, I've been able to identify a number of the plants along the river as well as many more of the animals. I've spotted Brazilian tapirs, giant anteaters, anacondas, and a three-toed sloth. In the plant family I've seen passion fruit, plantain trees (plantains are cousins of bananas), and all manner of wild and exotic flowers, so beautiful I long to go and gather them.
19 January 1900
We passed the mouth of the Içá River today, yet another of the Amazon's tributaries. It should be no more than a week, Nemo says, until we reach the Apurimac.
Skinner is quite amusing. The humidity makes it rather unbearable for him to wear his greasepaint, which I can readily understand. So instead, we are treated to the sight of a shirt and pants walking around, seemingly under their own power; now and then a pair of dark pince-nez glasses is added to the mobile ensemble. I've tried very hard not to laugh, for he's too dear to me to wish to possibly offend him, but it's been difficult.
According to something I read during one of the downpours that sent us indoors, many of the explorers who came to this part of the world were obsessed with finding the lost city of El Dorado, a fantastic place filled with gold and treasure. I know Nemo well enough to know that's not his intention -- the man pursues history and science, not wealth -- but all the same, I wonder if it ever did exist.
21 January 1900
Skinner really is my dearest friend.
I was dozing, to be truthful, in the library this afternoon. I was curled up in one of the chairs, my feet under me, with the Shakespeare book in my lap. It was raining again, of course. Then I felt someone take the book from me, but I didn't open my eyes.
"Bess. Bessie, wake up."
"Mm. No."
He chuckled. "Come on, love, wake up. Got something to show you."
I opened one eye and looked at the place where I estimated his eyes to be. "What?"
"Just come on. Trust me."
Well, as it happens, I do trust him, so I got up and followed him out of the library.
"Hurry, Bess, I don't know how long they'll wait."
I didn't have a clue what he meant until we reached the underwater observatory. He led me over to one of the big windows on the starboard side of the ship, and I gasped in astonishment.
There were no less than six Boto -- the pink dolphins I'd so hoped to see -- cavorting in the water just outside the submarine. They were swimming alongside us, as though racing the Nautilus down the river. I moved to press my hands against the glass, and the nearest dolphin actually looked at me as it swam. I felt connected to it, somehow. It was amazing, as though the dolphin and I understood one another.
"Knew you wanted to see them," said Skinner's voice behind me.
"They're so beautiful!" I couldn't tear my eyes away. Even in the depths of the dark water, I could see the flashes of pink in their skin. The sleek bodies knifed through the river as cleanly as the Nautilus herself. "My word, I think they're the loveliest things I've ever seen."
"Rather a fetching view," he agreed, coming to stand beside me. We watched in silence for several minutes, but at last, the dolphins grew weary of the game and allowed themselves to be outstripped by the sub.
"So...mad at me for interrupting your kip?" he asked slyly.
"No," I replied, smiling at him. "Thank you. I did want to see them, very much." Not really sure what else to say, or to do, I caught his invisible hand and squeezed it gratefully.
It was an odd moment. I think the best way I can describe it is to say that the air around us changed; it seemed heavy, somehow, as if there were something hanging between us. We looked at each other, not saying anything. Then we heard footsteps in the hall outside, and I realized I was still holding his hand, so I released it.
Jaya appeared in the doorway. "Missee Sahib Quatermain, Mr. Skinner -- I am sent to tell you that the others are taking their tea in the stateroom and would like you to join them."
"Thank you, Jaya, we'll be right along," I said. He inclined his head and withdrew. I looked at Skinner again.
"Thank you," I repeated.
"You're welcome," he said affably. He waved me toward the door. "Shall we, then?"
"Of course."
22 January 1900
We are very near the end of the river journey. When we reach the Apurimac, we will put ashore and camp for a night on the beach, just for the experience of camping on the Amazon. Then we will journey to Cuzco, which is not far (I am told), where we will rent mules to make our attempt up the mountain where Nemo believes the cities to be.
23 January 1900
The Apurimac, at last! The beach on which we have set up camp is pristine white, and very pretty. A handful of Nemo's men will accompany us on our trek, to guard our safety and see to our well-being.
Our camping arrangements are to be similar to those we used in Egypt; but as Mina and Henry are now married, they will share the tent she had previously shared with me, and another, much smaller tent has been brought for me to use. This time, thank goodness, we need not fear incursion by crocodiles. We must again sleep under mosquito netting, but I prefer that to insect invasion. The river is not as hugely swollen here, and the water seems somehow cleaner. The heat is terrible, so I think perhaps I will walk down the shoreline a bit, then take off my shoes and wade into the shallowest water to cool down.
later
Well, that was not one of my brightest ideas.
It started out well enough at first. I simply mentioned to the others that I was walking down the river a little way, not too far from the camp of course, and off I went.
When I felt I was decently obscured from the gentlemen, I removed my shoes and pulled my skirts up a bit in order to wade in the river. I only went in to ankle-depth, then crouched down in a sitting position to splash some of the cool water onto my face and throat. It was deeply satisfying. There were many rocks about -- the Apurimac has quite a number of rapids and could be quite dangerous if navigated by boat -- and I thought the sound of the water running over these was quite pleasant.
Then I heard something else.
Very slowly, and still crouched, I turned around. At first I could see nothing; then I observed a bit of movement in the trees. Squinting, I realized I was looking at a puma, one of the jaguar's cousins which lives in the region. I'd read about the two big cats, and everything I'd read made it sound like the jaguar was more to be feared. The puma was big, certainly, with tawny-red fur, but I thought it would conclude our little staring contest and move back into the jungle.
I was quite wrong. Stealthily it emerged, never taking its eyes off of me. When it was no more than six feet away, it stopped. I eased myself up to my unimpressive full height, thinking perhaps it would leave me alone if it believed I was bigger and more dangerous. It was apparently not fooled, for it promptly growled and hunkered down to spring. I took a step backward, and just that quick, the puma pounced. I heard myself scream.
A crack rent the air, which at the moment I failed to understand, and then the full weight of the beast was upon me. I was knocked backwards into the water, narrowly missing the rocks, and the puma's body was just heavy enough that I could not free myself. I struggled against the burden, but I was well and truly pinned to the shallow river floor. I thought for certain I was going to drown.
Mercifully, I felt something pulling the puma away from my body almost at once, and a pair of arms gathered about me and pulled me from the water. I sputtered wildly, trying to breathe and, in my bewildered state, fought against the arms which supported me. My brain seemed muddied, as though I'd hit my head, and I could not even see properly.
"Easy, Bess, easy! We've got you!"
Somehow the voice penetrated my terror, and I stopped struggling. I continued to spit up water, however, and gradually my vision cleared. I could see Tom, Winchester at the ready, standing a few feet away from me with Mina, Henry, and Nemo. Rodney was holding me upright; two of Nemo's men were wrestling with the body of the puma. It was dead.
As it has been explained to me, one of Nemo's men had been ordered to keep an eye on me from a distance. When the puma had pounced, the crack I'd heard was a shot from his rifle. It missed, however, and it took a second shot (which I'd failed to register under the water) to kill the animal. Given how much trouble I've managed to find when left to my own devices, I suppose I really can't blame Nemo for having me watched. When I screamed, the others had come running.
"Just in time to see you and the cat wrestling in the water," Henry said grimly. "It was rather horrible, if you don't mind my saying so."
"You're very lucky, Elizabeth," Nemo added. It was as close to scolding me as he has ever come. "The piranha do not live in this part of the river."
Piranha -- the flesh-eaters. That thought made me tremble.
"Let's get you back to camp," said Mina. "You've got to get into dry clothes and rest a bit."
I tried to take a step on my own and almost collapsed from the sudden pain. Looking down, I pulled aside my skirt to reveal my torn stocking and bleeding leg. I suppose I'd been cut by one of the puma's claws.
"Right," I heard Skinner mutter. "Hang on then, Bess." He held me about the waist with one arm, and deftly hooked the other under my knees in order to carry me back to the camp. I felt silly, really, because camp was such a short distance away, but all the same I was relieved for the assistance. I put my arms around his invisible neck and just shook the whole way back to the camp site.
Mina was waiting by my tent. I did register the odd quirk of her eyebrow when she looked at us -- and I imagine I looked ridiculous, shivering and clinging to him as I was -- but she did not comment on it. Instead, she said, "I laid out dry clothing on your cot, Elizabeth, and there are some towels. Henry says you should lie still for a time until you calm down."
"She's bleeding," Skinner told her. He carried me in and set me on the cot beside the garments. Mina left and returned with Henry's kit, and after Skinner left us, she took care of my leg and answered my questions about what had happened. Then she again told me to rest.
That was perhaps an hour ago, and I've not yet emerged. I feel like the mother of fools. How could I have been so stupid as to go off alone in the middle of the jungle? I think I owe everyone a rather large apology, to say nothing of a thank-you.
later still
It's growing late, and I must rest before tomorrow's trip to Cuzco, but I have to record what has been said.
As is so often the case, my thanks and apologies were accepted with good humour by all involved. I do not know whether they indulge me so much because they are fond of me, or because they were so fond of my father, or what the reason is that they forgive so easily. Tom's comment on the matter was amusing, if not illuminating: "We don't get much chance to be bored with you around, Elizabeth."
The "prize" of the puma which attacked me was still a matter to be determined when I emerged from the tent. At length it was decided to have the beast skinned and turned into a rug for the ship library.
I did get to have a word with Skinner before we retired for the evening, in order to thank him a bit more properly for pulling me out of the river and carrying me back to camp. He shrugged it off, saying, "Wasn't going to let you drown, was I?"
"How did you get there so fast, anyway?" I asked him. "I don't think I was under the water all that long."
At that, he chuckled. "You should know by now that I don't let you too far out of my sight, Bess. It's not easy being your invisible shield when you go wandering off on your own."
This was something I'd wanted to ask him about for a long time, and since he'd brought it up, I figured I might as well go ahead. "Why do you do that?"
"What? The shield thing?" Again he shrugged. "Somebody's got to look after you. You're like a magnet for trouble." He stretched then, and yawned; the others had already gone to their respective tents. "Best get some sleep, love. You've had a busy day and we've got to be up a bit early tomorrow."
"All right." I stood up. Feeling as though I owed him some gesture of appreciation -- how many people can say they have an invisible shield protecting them all the time? -- I summoned what daring I possess, bent, and kissed the top of his unseen head. "Good night."
He paused, as though I'd completely dumbfounded him. "Good night, Bessie," he said finally.