THE LAMPARAGUA.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXVI, Issue 3256, 13 October 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE LAMPARAGUA.

TBr Mat Ckommelin.] From the Pall Mall Magazine, August, [When staying lately In Chile, being interested in the superstitions of the lower oaeto, which is mainly of Indian origin, I hoard, among other curious legends, darkly of one which seemed peculiar to th s country. Nor ■, chance acquainted me with a gentleman, one of the principal Knglish residents in Chile, who kindly gave mo details of the dread la nparagua This wizard-like creature, of which many persons in the country have never even heard, is strangely ehough supposed to inhabit fettilo and cultivated districts. And Mr Ju - was assured by his labourers that one laihparagua or more infested the marshy edges of a lake, as is its favourite haunt, on his own estate, Culipran. 11l the following tale I may have overstated the height of the I hing, concerning which and its mode of progression ih) details were not exact. Otherwise, its appearance, diet, and the means it employs to secure its victims, are faithfully reproduced, according to the description unwillingly confided to Mr L by some of his own peones. And these ate men who are declared by Europeans neither to fool pain nor to know fear. |

’the two men had held on steadily riding since two hours before' dawn, going all day without stopping, save for a brief noontide halt. During the afternoon of yesterday their track, had lain across an utterly desolate pampa, therefore they had pushed on to reach cultivated, country again, and water before nightfall. Now, towards evening, they found themselves near a long lake, bordered with reeds, the haunt 0? numberless wildfowl.

A small rocky valley, down which the active Chilian ponies wearicdly scrambled, grew greener towards the lake shore, where a stream which the travellers had followed for some time widened into a V-shaped marsh.

‘lt is near sunset, Pedro. Lot its camp here for the night,’ said Ramsay, shivering slightly; for the fever had taken him two days ago. ‘Own the truth, man 1 You have lost your bearings, and don’t know whether wo are nine miles or nine leagues from the silver mine. Besides, the horses, poor beasts, will bo dead beat,’ ‘ Of what good is a horse that cannot do his sixty miles when asked ?’ returned the Chilian guide. * But, truly, the devil seems to have been driving round on these hills, changing their shapes siuco last I ■Cams this way.’ fie gaked with discontent deepening on his swarthy features: at the hills behind, hiding the sandy desorb, far beyond which rose the mighty range of the Andes, still veiled in rosy haze this hot December evening. Then, in sadden recollection, — ‘There is a rich Englishman who lives hear a lake in this neighbourhood. Ho has smelting works and a largo estate. The house may be close at hand.’

'Or it may be ou the opposite shore,’ Skid Ramsay, wearilydismounting. ‘Hobble the horses, and let us go up to yonder billy ground jutting into the lake. Then if you can see signs of a hacienda, we'll make a last push for it. If not, I rest.’ ‘ Why not, patron ?’ said the huaso, using the almost invariable courteous Chilian assent to assertions or requests.

Up among rooks and brushwood master and man climbed, till, advancing to the far crest of the hillock, they scanned the lake "shores attentively. Northwards, at a mile’s distance, a wooded headland arrested their vision; south and west there was no human habitation iu ; sight, thdugh the ground here and there showed signs of cultivation and the pasture was good. Right across the lake the sun was sinking gloriously red, against a background of the pale olive green and lilac hues seen so often in a Southern Pacific sky. Soothed by the spectacle, Ramsay set down on a rock to rest and smoke ; and with Indiana impassibility Pedro did tho same. All gringos were mad, he knew ; if this one liked staring at nothing, ho Was more easily pleased than some of the foreign lunatics. But presently Pedro became aWaro that there was something to be seen among the rooks below. Signing to Ramsay, both men peered stealthily past screening myrtle bashes and witnessed an evening domestic scene in animal life.

The ground rose in two broken ledges from the marsh, and on tho upper one a dog-fox and vixen were playing with their cubs near soma crannies where was doubtless their home. Presently the mother left the rest, and stretched herself sleepily in the evening sunlight midway on the grass ledge. One cub followek to bite her neok, but, on being repulsed, returned to gambol with his brothers. As he watched them, Ramsay also noticed Vaguely aloiv withered tree. Standing in the marsh twenty yards below, alone, and partly submerged, with a hollow cleft in its-side.

All at once the peon touched his master’s arm and pointed open-mouthed towards tho vixen. She had risen as if in terror, both her head and brush curved towards the. edge. Then, while her four paws seemed firmly planted gripping the turf, she was drawn broadside some yards towards the edge by invisible means. The other foxes, old and young, meantime dis appeared in the twinkling of an eye into the rook crevices. .

As both men eagerly gazed, the vixen’s tension related. On the brink she recovered herself, and standing still for three or four seconds, as if dazed after deadly effort, she turned tail and darted towards her lair. Two springs only,—on the third she paused in mid-flight! Once more she resisted, but was dragged back towards the edge, this time fail foremost. At the same time a rush of wind sounded like a sh-h in the stillness. Bamsay knew now he had heard the same sound two minutes before, but had fancied it a light breeze among the . leaves. Craning his neck forward, Jock believed he could see an agonised expression in the creatures eyes, as against her will, she slid inch by inch— over ! . -

The fall was not great. A lower grassy terrace surmounted: the marsh. Even as they whispered, the watchers saw the victim rise. A second, time—but feebly, like a mouse released from the deadly grip of a cat—the poor she-fox crawled away with drooping brush towards the sheltering rooks. Bamsay searched the marsh with a sportsman’s keen glance, to discover whether the creature had been lassoed by soma invisible means, and where was the native hunter. Then he bounded to his feet,, and pointing towards the withered tree, his arm stiffened with amazement, epolaimed, ‘Look!’

The cleft in the tree-trunk was visibly widening and gaping, till it looked like a hideous bark-lipped mouth that was drawing a long inspiration. Again there came the same sound in the air, and the vixen, curled in a helpless quivering ball, was borne five yards, as On' a wind-blast, disappearing right into the hollow of the tree. The withered wooden lips contracted over the creature’s living heads two dead branches above • stirred slightly, like antenna?, the cleft closed, leaving a. jagged scar in the tree-trunk. That was all.

The scene was still and peaceful as before. A flight of wild duck circled twice over the lake and thou alighted on the surface with-distant quacks. Behind in a fuchsia thicket a native thrush was singing. The tree was immovable. Wondering if he could be dreaming Eamsay turned to the peon. Pedro’s copper skin has taken a pale yellow hue, and he was shivering; though a Chilian peasant is brave to savagery. , The lamparagua ! Ply! he gasped, with a cry of horror, and plunged downwards among the rocks.-. Jock overtook him just as the huaso leaped barebacked on his horse.

* Stay for me, my lad, at the valley head in safety. I’ll not leave the saddles and blankets/ said the Scotchman cooly. But his own breath fluttered in his throat more than from the run, and while his hands tugged at strap and buckle, his head turned to glance at the tree that remained motionless in the distance.

liejoining Pedro, who waited half a mile away, the master found the peon on his knees, crossing himself and gabbling over and over every scrap of the Latin prayers he could remember, which the padres had taught him in boyhood, They were' few, and he mixed them so ludicrously that his listener almost laughed. ‘Holy Santa Eosa—miserable sinner!’ ended Pedro, rising and saddling ns with remarkable haste while throwing off some last ejaculations of this rare access of piety . ‘ It was a witch, senor ; the country is full of spirits. Holy Saint Peter, I ducked your image last autumn in "the sea. Forgive! —but those fishermen ace such blas-

phemors, and rail aguinab you at the fiert bad weather. I abiure all evil-livers, holy .’ An awful oath followed as the pony swerved. Pedro stuck his huge rowel’s in the beast’s ‘and cantered furiously away, his poncho Tilling with air as ho worked his arms like a windmill’s sails, shouting, ‘ Eide, ride, patron ! Loave this God-forsaken country, quick !’ ‘Ajo, if only our horses can travel,’ muttered the Scotchman.

True enough, tho tired beasts coon showed that they could not be roused long beyond an ambling motion, not unlike tho guit of a Peruvian pacer; but which, when unbroken all day, may cover a great distance before nightfall. Not till they had gone some miles could Eamsay persuade his terror-stricken guide to talk sensibly. ‘ What is this beast-tree ? Lamparagua,* you call it. Does it exist elsewhere in Chili Y

‘ Who knows, Hnor ? I only heard of such rare trees as northern witches from a rough roto who came from this country. I remember it was one evening in July, ten years ago, as wo eat in a circle round the brasier. We thought ho was improvising a tale, as wo had in turn improvised or recited songs and legends—tolling lies for fun, as the patron may know is our customThere was naught more I can call to mind, save that they swallowed animals and lived near marshy places. Saints preserve us ! Eide on—on to tho mines. Stop here ? Never I’

Eamsay dared not lose sight of the man. At least Pedro know something of the country. He might strike their right track sooh. So tho Soft twilight of tho south drew round them, as they rode wearily. And tho night came, black and moonless, as they bent in their saddles, more weary yet. Tile reins lay loose on tho horses’ necks now, Pedro trusting to tho animals’ instinct j for ‘ tho good land ’ could not bs far where mon lived, and there were homesteads and supper and provender. When midnight was past, Eamsay felt his strength going from him. By the faint starlight they had just plashed through a gravelly stream, in which tho horses slopped to drink before reluctantly stumbling up tho far bank where their hoofs struck muffled on grass. ’ Pedro, I cAu hold up no longer,’ called tho engineer feebly, reeling in his saddle, as an ague fit shook him like a rigour, * Leave me- -if you will. I—-must lie dawn.’

Guessing by his master’s voice that the latter must be very ill, tho poon hastily came to Ramsay's help in dismounting, then guided him to the shelter of some bushes that were faintly discernible. Here he placed a saddle under the sufferer’s head, and laid a blanket over him. Not far off there was a small grove of shrubs, darker than the surrounding twilight, beside which rose a big tree With a huge bulbous base and exposed roots like those of a cotton tree. Near this Ramsay’s horse strayed,, cropping tho grass; so Pedro, following, tethered him to one of these roots, which he had discovered by Stumbling against them in the blackness.

‘ Oaramba !’ he muttered. ‘ Stay there ; animal not to be trusted.’ His own beast knew him, and never went far from its owner’s side.

Then tho guide sat down beside his exhausted patron, who slept for fevered snatches. Or woke to ramble in delirious talk. So the time passed till the faint light strengthened. ' All at once Ramsay fancied be beard Pedro’s Voice crying out in a tone of desperation—or was it terror ?— ‘ Me voy ! I’m off to bring you help I’ The sick man did not heed, though vaguely conscious ho Was left alone. It seemed to him that he was in a hospital. The doctor would come round presently; if not, it was peaceful to lie still. Was that his mother, lifting tho hair on his fevered brow ?

Then ha started awake as a horrid cry roused his dull ears. (It was the scream of a horse!) What was this well-known valley ? Whore was he ? For, raising himself weakly bn one elbow, Ramsay saw a stream running past rocks which were strangely familiar,—and yet when had he seen them ? The river emptied itself in marshy land. The dawn showed a dark grey surface beyond, like a soa —or lake. W’tb a cold terror the sick man recog-, nised that he lay not too hundred yards from the marsh of the lamparagua : that headland; the water! All night they must have ridden in a circle. j ■ The horrible scream was already fading from his sick memory like a dream, when a Snorting and scuffling noise caused Ramsay to turn slowly bis weak head. He saw bis horse stamping, pulling back from its baiter, and with distended eye-balls staring at a tree, to the root of which it was fastened. What was wrong? The tree had two bare topmast branches like horns, and some lower ones also without leaves, yet this wa.s summer time; -in December.

... It was withered! And, there above its onion-shaped bole was, surely, a dark scar, a crack ! Oh, horror! the top of the tree was that of the lamparagua, in the marsh. And now, as Jock stared with fever-weakened eyes through the dim daybreak, the lower branches moved slowly downwards, clutching the horse’s halter with olaw-liko twigs ; the crack in the side of the Thing was Widening. Again a fearful sound woke the sleeping glen: the horse’s cry of terror. Jock tried instinctively to find his revolver, but his senses reeled as the tree aperture gaped, opening UpWards. The horse was drawing towards it—nearer!—fighting, struggling. Theh two shots rang out, and a man fainted, and knew no more.

When Jock Ramsay came to himself, the sun was high in the heavens. He was sheltered by wild myrtle from its heat, and though very weak,- his senses had come back. Memory was slower. Ah—ho remembered ! Opening his eyes in a wide stare of apprehension, Ramsay saw himself lying alone. There was a thicket near, but not the awful tree. Pedro was gone; so were the horses. But perhaps—perhaps —that last vision of the Thing engulfing the poor roan cob has been a nightmare, a fevered frenzy. Feebly reconnoitring the ground, the sick man noticed that he lay on a grassy slope between the stream and the rocks where the foxes lived: a small cape. Behind his head the ground must be open up the valley. There lay safety, away from the horrible marsh and the lamparagua —if there was such a tree indeed. Surely it had all been a hideous dream. Drawing the myrtle leaves aside, as one might a curtain, Jock feebly turned himself to’ : examine the glen. Then; his finders clenched, his breath stopped, and a thrill of horror froze bis spine. The'Tree was there'. Out in the open, bn the grass, with not a bush near it, right between himself and safety.

: Take it quietly ! For manhood’s sake, think out this business, and don’t turn faint like a schoolgirl seeing a snake. First, was the whole affair a dream ? Was that withered tree out yonder on the sward the very lamparagua ? For if so, there were several, or it could chauge its situation. It was neither' in the marsh, nor by the fuchsia thicket. It . .-. O God!

Por, as he peered, Eamsay believed that the tree was moving. It was horribly near, and it was surely creeping forward by inches. He held his breath, and marked a grass tuft at its bulbous base; Now—now it had passed beyond the tall silvery grass plumes and spear leaves, and was Close by a stone was stealthily rounding it. Yes, the Thing was approaching him; doubtless it had stayed quiet till now, gorged with its morning meal, but it was slowly nearing its next victim. With eyes fascinated by fear, Eamsay saw its roots moving forward like giant knotty suckers that gripped and held fast in the herbage, noiselessly moving with the motion of a tortoise.

The hair of the young man’s flesh stood up, an icy coldness numbed his blood Then with a strong effort he gathered his senses to think out escape. The rooks ahead were his only chanco. There among the crannies, where the foxes had their dens and hid in safety, he could hide. But ho could not rise! His head was dizzy with fever; his strength was as running water;, his legs and feet seemed not his own, mere useless weights to be dragged oh by sheer pluck. For he had already started—

•J iterally,; l amp of the Water V; a kind of will-o’-the-wisp. Though why a light is associated with toe tree was net apparent in the account of it given to the writer.

Grasping the myrtle stems to give himself an impetus, Eamsay was crawling away towards the rocks, foot by foot. He lay outspread like a lizard, for his only strength remained in bis arms and chist. Inch by inch, ho crept onward as fast as he could go, clut cling at. the grass tufts, at the sage-bushes, drops of perspiration running down his face. Easter, faster, if it could only be done The man had covered some yards ; surely the tree moved'more slowly. Ah ! A blast blew backwards over Eamsay's head, raising his hair. By instinct be dug his nails into the ground, flattening his body as much as he possibly could. The indraught was as if air had rushed into a deep cavity, while a sound like that of an escape pipe hissed in the air. Then it was over.

As drowning men are said to see a thousand past scenes in a few moments, so in an agonisingly lucid flash, Jock Eamsay reviewed his life. Then he recalled yesterevening. how the wretched fox had gotten breathing time twice, as once he had now. How long would this horrible game last ? Tho beast-tree was paralysing the human being. ha thought of a snake fasoinatinga rabbit.

Slowly, more feebly, tho victim still crawled. Why did that second blast not follow ? Could the lamparagua be so near, it needed no aid beyond that of its cruel hooked branches ? tie must see ! Turning his head, as he still dragged himself onward, tho fever-strickou wretch beheld a strange sight. 110 had left his blanket behind upon tho ground when first making his escape, and it was now wrapped round tho tree-bole, as if the lamparagua had failed to suck it in, and was wrestling with this unknown prey.; both branches holding it fast outspread on claw-like twigs. It was a respite ! A few seconds more of air, light, life! Yes, the boast-tree was standing still; yet it had Covered more ground than its hunted prey, during the time both had moved. Eamsay felt for the revolver in his pocket. There was one bullet left, he know, and if escape were hopeless, then- —

At last! The rocks were near. Tho man began scrambling painfully up a steep incline of loose earth and rounded stones which resembled a moraine, and that gave no hold to his desperate grasp. Looking up, ho saw with hopeless eyes that there had been a Blight landslip lately, which had left tho bank projecting overhead, so that he could not reach the top ; looking down, that tho laulparagda Was slowly but steadily approaching once more over the grass, foot-root following foot-root. There was a torn piece of crimson blanket banging on one bough.

Ho must struggle across tho face of this treacherous slide to where a clump of yuccas were smouldering, their stems blackened as one often sees them, whether from spontaneous combustion or sun-fired in some inexplicable manner, no man knows.

Fire I The smoking plants suggested a thought to the man. He stayed still, bolding on half-way up the scree. He felt for bis matchbox; there were two matches loft. Then Ramsay, instead of longer seeking escape upwards, flung himaelf in still more desperate eagerness down the steep slope again towards his enemy. He was at bay. Where the grass began, the man stopped and stooped, plucking dry blades and twigs with the haste of one who has but a few moments to live should this plan _ fail of BUCoeSS. Not a drop of rain had fallen since last Oofcohei; the scorching summer heat had burnt the grass to tinder. There came tho spurt of a match, TWo moiileiits'i five -i

The fire-spark, kindling, seemed about to spread, when a roaring wind-gust through the valley’s stillness blew it out, and ■ the man felt himself sucked irresistibly towards a clump of prickly pear, to which he clung palpitating, with his face pressed against the thorny broad discs that tore the skin to bleeding. Ah [—that was over ! For the last time one chance was loft,— one match! again Ramsay snatohod what dry fuel lay within his grasp, as he sheltered beneath the bushes. . His papers, oheque-boek, all were in a small valise he had instinctively thrust overnight under his saddle pillow. There was one letter left in his breast pocket, which he had carried there two years—the last one ever written by his mother. He tore it out. - With shaking fingers, and blinded by blood-drops he dared not wait to wipe from his eyes—knowing the while that the lamparagua was stalking a yard nearer at each motion—its victim carefully struck [the match, hholtering the tiny flame with one hand, he turned the wax-stem gently till is lit. Next the letter; and the fire licked the words “My dearest Son,” then blazed and crackled in tho funeral pyre of broken bramble and dried myrtle leaves that burnt a dead woman’s last token of love to her youngest born. Gladly would she have known it sacrificed on the slight chance to save his life! Ramsay thrust both hands into the burning mass, and recovering strength iu the, excitement of hope, he staggered towards soma clumps of tall grass of the pampas a few feet away. The sparks fell, making a trail as he went that caught the dry herbage. Hurrah! How the giant grass-stems took fire, blazing high in a glorious bonfire. A hasty glance over his shoulder. The lamparagua was not twelve yards distant; its jaws were widening, But tho fire-wall was between them. ,

There came a rush of wind ending in a sound more fierce than a wounded lion’s roar. The ittau was caught by the blast as he stood upright, weak yet defiant, matching his puny being against the strength of the brute-tree with the help of the mind within him controlling the fiery element as a weapon. Suokod forward, blinded by smoke, scorched, Bamsay fell bn his face and lay still with a last conscious effort to save his life. Beyond his body the myrtles and fuchsias were crackling, the;tall chajual blossoms blazed like high torches, the fire was spreading, leaping up to the boldo branches in yonder thicket, running over the open ground in a low sheet that burnt the lamparagua roots. For half a minute the Thing stayed, trying to stand ite ground. Now it was in full flight! The great sucker-feet were travelling over the burning herbage, dragging its tree-trunk with agonised efforts, yard upon yard, towards the stream.

Five minutes later, there came a galloping of horses down the valley; men’s shouts. But Ramsay did not hear them. He seemed to lie prone at death’s door, too weak to enter unless spirit hands lifted him over its threshold and brought him within to be at peace and rest. ' But they were earthly hands that were now''trying to pour some brandy down Ramsay’s throat. When his eyes opened, Pedro was supporting his master’s ' head, while a group of men around were watching the stranger curiously, foremost among whom was an English gentleman. " Coming to all right ? ” said the latter. “ A near shave that. You began to smoke, I take it, finding yourself pretty nearly lost and famished, co the valley got fired. We have been out searching for you since morning, when your man rode up to my hacienda, worn out and demented. We passed the head of the valley at ten o'clock, but could see no sign of your horse, which Pedro said he had to a tree. What the matter ? ”

For Eamsay struggled up, and was staring round.

• The tree ! It was out there before the fire : Pedro, you know—where is it gone ?’ Pedro only shivered and stared. Some of the other peones, muttering, and giving sidelong glances at each other, crossed the burnt ground looking about them. One saw a partly submerged tree at some distance down stream, floating tlowly into the marsh. His attention was caught by a gleam of something scarlet tangled in the topmast withered bough. r ** # • ■

A few days later, Eamsay was stretched at ease in a cane deck-chair, with a tall glass of iced drink in the wicker socket by his arm. Overhead a verandah was shaded: with masses of roses, stepfaanotis and bignonia. Sunshine , flooded the garden stretching beyond liko a dream of enchantment, where tall palms shot above high flowering trees, and oranges and lemons were mingled lower with gardenias and poinsettias. Jock had just finished after talking during some twenty minutes, so felt thirsty, exhausted and excited. • ‘ That’s the whole story/ he ended. ‘Now, doyen believe me, Mr Campbell? Till now, 1 fancy you thought me mad.’

! ‘No, but possibly a bit delirious in your fever, so that you imagined some tale Pedro told you of the lamparagua had really happened to yourself. Thai* was all,’ said the kindly host. ■‘Man alive! There is Pedro to witness also. And where is my horse ? And your own lad saw the torn red blanket in the marsh!’ cried Eamsay. ‘True, quite true,’ nodded Campbell, coolly reflecting. ‘ Well, my dear fellow, if it is any satisfaction to you, I do believe you are one of the few living human beings who have seen the lamparagua. What is more, for some years back I have heard rumours of such a thing, and that it haunted this lake and another adjoining it, both on my estate. But, to confess tho truth, I fancied the story was a convenient legend of my cattle-herds to account for missing beasts. Yes, I believe. But hardly any one else will, even in Chile, among our own wise educated class. Of course the peones knew. They are nearer Nature than wa.