The Spanish skipper looked up, cigarette in mouth, and nodded to Rodd.

"You tell your ship-master," he said, "that I have been thinking about the birds and the spotted leopards and the big monkeys. I know a place where they swarm. Good-night!" And at a word his boat was thrust off again and rowed back towards the gangway from which they came.

"Well, let 'em swarm," said Joe Cross, as if talking to himself. "I don't mind. This 'ere's a savage country, and 'tis their nature to. He seems a rum sort of a buffer, Mr Rodd, sir. What does he mean by that? Was it Spanish chaff?"

"Oh no, Joe. My uncle was asking him about what curiosities there are in the country. That's why he said he had been thinking about them."

"Oh, I see. But how rum things is, and how easy a man can make mistakes! Now, if I had been asked my opinion I should have said that that there was a chap as couldn't think even in Spanish; sort of a fellow as could eat, sleep and smoke, and then begin again, day after day and year after year. This is a rum sort of a world, Mr Rodd, sir, and there's all sorts of people in it. Now look at that there skipper. He fancies hisself, he does, pretty creature! White trousers, clean shirt every morning, and a red scarf round his waist. 'Andsome he calls hisself, I suppose. He don't know that even a respectable dog as went to drink in a river and saw hisself, like that there other dog in the fable, would go and drown hisself on the spot if he found he'd a great set of brown teeth like his!"

"Ah, Joe, Spaniards are not like Englishmen."

"Oh, but I don't call him a Spaniard, sir. I've seen Spaniards—regular grand Dons, officers and gentlemen, with nothing the matter with them at all, only what they couldn't help, and that's being Spaniards instead of Englishmen. These are sort of mongrels. Some of this 'ere crew are what people call mollottoes. They are supposed to be painted white men, but payed over with a dirty tar-brush. Talk about a easy-going lot! Why, I aren't seen one of them do a stroke of work to-day. They are in the ile trade, aren't they, sir? Palm-oil."

"Yes, Joe; I suppose so."

"Ah, that accounts for it, sir. Handling so much ile that it makes them go so easy."

The sailor burst into a long soft laugh, "What are you laughing at, Joe?"

"That warn't laughing, sir; that was smiling. When I laugh hearty you can hear me a long way off."

"Well, what were you smiling at?"

"I was thinking, sir, about how it would be if our old man had that lot under him. My word, how he'd wake them up! Poor, simple, sleepy beggars! It would set them thinking that they hadn't took a skipper aboard, but a human hurricane. I wonder who owns that there craft, and whether he gets anything out of the oil trade. Viva, indeed! Yes, our old man would give them something to viva about. Their skipper too—nice way of coming up a river to get a cargo. Well, I suppose they get their tobacco pretty cheap; and that's how the world turns round."

Another day glided by, with steady visible progress in the brig's repairs; and the Count seemed in better spirits, and said a few complimentary words to the skipper.

On board the schooner Captain Chubb appeared to be setting an example to the Spaniards, for those of his crew who were not helping the carpenters at the brig were kept busy holystoning, polishing, and coiling down ropes into accurate concentric rings, till the Maid of Salcombe was as smart as any yacht.

Meanwhile the Spaniards lined the bulwarks of their vessel, smoked and yawned, and watched the reptile shooting, and then stared in sleepy wonderment at the busy smartening up of the English schooner.

The evening came, and this time the Spanish captain had himself rowed across again, to find that it was the doctor who was leaning over the side with his nephew, and, cigarette in mouth still, the man said slowly—

"He tell you about the birds and the monkeys up the little river?"

"Yes," said the doctor, "and I've been thinking about it."

"Ah, yes," said the Spaniard. "I am going to stop a fortnight yet before it's time to go up with my cargo. I'll make my men row you up to the mouth of that little river; and I could show you something you'd like, but you would have to take your guns—you and him too. But maybe the boy would be afraid."

"That I shouldn't!" cried Rodd hotly.

"Oh! Then you could come," said the Spaniard. "But you'd be in the way if you were afraid. Think about it. Good-night."

The doctor was ready to enter into conversation, and question him; but the boat went off back at once, leaving Uncle Paul mentally troubled, for the idea of an excursion into the depths of the forest wilds was exciting in the extreme.

"He needn't have been in such a hurry, Pickle," said the doctor. "I should have liked to have questioned him a little."

"Yes, uncle. I should like to hear about such things; but it was like his impudence to say that I should be afraid!"

"Yes, my boy; it was rude," replied the doctor thoughtfully, "Ah! It's such a chance as might never occur again. A guide like that isn't always to be picked up."

"No, uncle," replied the boy; "and it must be very wonderful in the depths of the forest, where you can get through, because you would be able to row."

"Yes, my boy; wonderfully interesting," said the doctor eagerly.

"But we couldn't go, uncle."

"Why, Pickle? Why?"

"Because we couldn't go away and leave the brig like that."

"No; of course not, my boy. It would be too bad, wouldn't it? And of course we couldn't go and trust ourselves to a pack of strangers, eh?"

"We shouldn't be afraid, should we, uncle?"

"Well, no, my boy; no. But I don't think it would be prudent. But there, there, we mustn't think of it. We can't do everything we like."



CHAPTER FORTY.

THE DOCTOR'S CHARGE.

It was very tempting, and, like most lovers of natural history, the deeper he plunged into his pursuit, with its wonders upon wonders, the more infatuated Uncle Paul grew. The nephew was quite as bad, though, boy-like, his was more the natural love of novelty than that of science.

Who among you is there who has not revelled in the thought of something new, the eager desire to see something fresh? The country boy to see vast London with all its greatness and littleness, its splendour and its squalor, its many cares and too often false joys—the town boy to plunge into that home of mystery and wonder, the country. And though as a rule the country boy is disappointed, he of the town, when once he has tasted the true joys of the country and seen Nature at her best, is never satiated. But that love of the novel and the fresh is in us all—the desire for that which in Saint Paul's days the men of Athens longed for: something new.

Hence then it was no wonder that Rodd, as he paced the schooner's deck and looked across to either side of the river where the primeval forest commenced, felt the strange longing to go and see, to hunt and find the myriads of fresh things upon which he had never set eyes before—wonders that might be more than wonderful—dangers which would be exciting, possibly without danger; in short, all the boy's natural love of adventure was stirring within him—that intense longing to cast away culture in every shape and to become, if for ever so short a time, something of the natural savage once more; and he was ready to urge on his uncle to go for just one expedition, only there was a sense of duty to hold him back.

And as the time went on, and the brig was rapidly approaching completion, Uncle Paul more than once angrily exclaimed to his nephew—

"Pickle, I wish that abominable Spaniard was on the other side of the world!"

"So do I, uncle," cried the boy. "We were getting on as nicely as could be, with plenty to interest us, and fresh adventures, and then he comes here setting us longing to go off into the wilds."

"Yes, my boy, and if it wasn't for the Count and the sense of duty we feel towards him? we would be off to-morrow morning."

"Well, why not go?" said a voice just behind them.

Rodd and his uncle started round in astonishment, for they were both so intent upon their conversation, as they leaned over the rail talking together, that they had not heard anybody approach, and for a moment they were utterly speechless as they stood staring at the Count, who had just come on board, while Morny was climbing up the side to join him.

"I—I didn't know you were here," said the doctor confusedly.

"Why, you asked me to come on board and dine and spend the evening with you," replied the Count good-humouredly. "Had you forgotten?"

"Well—well," said the doctor, "I—Really, I'm afraid I had. What—what have you been about?" he continued, turning angrily upon Rodd. "It's a strange thing, Rodney, that when you know of some engagement that I have made, and it slips my memory, you never remind me of it."

"Well, uncle—I—"

"Well, uncle—you! I remember now well enough. You were there this morning when I asked the Count and—Ah, Morny, my lad! How are you? Glad you have come.—But, as I was saying, what were you thinking about?"

"Expedition into the forest, uncle," said the boy frankly.

"Expedition into the forest, sir! Um—ah! Well.—Yes, I'm afraid I was thinking about it too. I am so sorry, Des Saix. But welcome all the same, if you will forgive me."

"Forgive you, yes!" said the Count warmly. "That and a great deal more. But I am very glad that you have so strangely led up to the subject upon which I wish to talk to you."

"What, my forgetfulness?"

"No, no! That expedition into the forest."

"No, no; don't talk about it. I have thought about it too much, and it worries me."

"Well, I want to put a stop to its worrying you. Morny here has been telling me how anxious you both are to go."

"Morny! Why, what did he know about it? He couldn't tell. Here, you, Rodney, have you been letting your tongue run, sir, exposing all my weaknesses?"

"No, sir, that he has not," replied the French lad eagerly; "but I have gathered from your remarks, and words that Rodd has more than once let drop, how anxious you both are to have a run up country and see something of what the wilds are like."

"Oh, fudge! Stuff! Nonsense!" cried the doctor petulantly. "That's quite out of the question."

"Why?" said the Count.

"Why?" cried the doctor. "Oh, because it's—that is—er—I feel—"

"Bound by a sense of imaginary duty," said the Count, smiling. "You think it would be unfriendly to me and my son here to leave us in what you English people call the lurch; and therefore you are depriving yourself of what would be a great pleasure as naturalists and hunters in which you would indulge if we were not here."

"My dear Des Saix, I do wish you would not talk about it," cried the doctor. "There, I confess that if we were alone I should probably take advantage of the Spanish captain's knowledge of the country, and go a little way up with him; but as matters are, with your brig still unfinished, and so much to do, I consider it would be an act of disgraceful selfishness to go away and leave you alone here."

"Absurd!" said the Count. "You would be going into wilder parts while we should be quite at home here, in the nearly finished brig, and have her in the best of trim by the time you came back."

"Impossible!" snapped out the doctor. "Nothing of the sort."

"What do you say, Morny?" continued the Count. "You feel that they are both eager to go?"

"Yes, father; and I am sure that Rodd is burning with desire."

"You don't know anything about it," cried Rodd.

"Well," said the Count, "ever since we met I have given way, and taken your advice, doctor, in all things; but we have come to a time now when I think I have a right to assert myself. Captain Chubb thinks that he will have finished in two days more. He is certain that he will have all done, caulked, tarred, and the copper replaced, in three days; so I have come to the conclusion that you people, who have been quite slaves in the way of sharing my troubles, thoroughly deserve a holiday. So I set you free—you too, Morny."

"Me, father!" cried the lad in astonishment.

"Yes; I am sure you would enjoy a trip with Rodd as much as he would like you to go with him."

"Yes, that I should," cried Rodd; "but—"

"Yes," said Morny gravely; "but—you would not wish me to leave my father like this. Thank you, my father. I could not go, and I will stay."

"No, Morny; you will obey my wishes. You have your young life saddened enough with disappointments, so that when there is an opportunity to keep one away I call upon you to accompany young Harding here as his companion, and I wish you both a very enjoyable trip."

"That's very nice of you—very nice indeed," cried the doctor; "but I cannot sanction it. I think we should be doing very wrong if we let those boys go alone."

"But they would not go alone. You would have full charge of your nephew."

"Now, Des Saix!" snorted the doctor.

"Let me finish," said the Count good-humouredly; "and as a man in whom I place full confidence I entrust you with the care of my son. Now, doctor, please, no more excuses. I will not deprive you of the pleasures a naturalist would enjoy in such an excursion. Your preparations could be soon made; so send over for the Spaniard to-night and tell him you will be ready to start at the turn of the tide to-morrow, so that it may bear you up into these unknown regions— unknown to us—and a pleasant trip to you!"

"No," said the doctor, "I shall certainly not think of trusting ourselves to that man and his crew."

"There I agree with you," said the Count; "with a good crew of your own trusted men."

"And if he could be spared," cried Rodd, "I should like for us to have Joe Cross."

"Now, look here," cried Uncle Paul, "this is taking a weak man at his weakest time. Really, Count, we ought not to go. Look at what your position would be in case anything should happen."

"Nothing is likely to happen," said the Count, "and if it did, though my brig is still helpless I should have your vessel, with about half your crew, and my own. So now not another word."

"There," said the doctor, "I am afraid I am beaten."



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

REPTILIAN.

It was just about the same time as the Spaniard had chosen for his other visits, after dark, that his boat was again rowed across to the schooner's anchorage, the man asking for the doctor.

"I'm here," said Uncle Paul, going to the side, from where he had been talking to the Count. "What's the matter?"

"Matter?" said the Spaniard wonderingly. "Oh, there's nothing the matter. I thought I'd tell you that those two men of mine you gave the physic to are quite well again, and don't want any more. That's all. Go on shooting the crocodiles. Good-night!"

He gave an order to his men, and the boat's head was turned, but as soon as they had proceeded a little way back the Spaniard gave another order, and his men checked the boat and kept on gently dipping their oars to keep her in the same place. "Doctor there?" shouted the Spaniard. "Yes."

"Haven't thought any more about going up the river, have you?"

There was dead silence for a few moments, and then Uncle Paul said sharply, as if making an effort—

"Yes; I shall start as soon as the tide turns to-morrow morning."

"Very well," said the man carelessly. "I will come across with my long-boat and eight of my men. They want a job to keep them awake."

Then he grumbled out some words in Spanish to those who were with him, while, as if annoyed at what he had heard, Captain Chubb uttered a low growl.

"No, you needn't do that," cried Uncle Paul. "Our men would like to go up the river. If you will come across to act as guide I will use my own boat, and take all provisions that are necessary."

"Very well," said the Spaniard. "Perhaps that will be best. Your boat's lighter than mine. Take plenty of powder and shot. Like some of my men to come and help?"

"Oh no; it will not be necessary," replied the captain.

"Bring blankets," shouted the Spaniard. "Dew's heavy. Good-night!" Then the boat was rowed away.

"You mean to go?" grunted the skipper.

"Yes; I don't like to lose this opportunity, and our friends here would like us to go."

"Well," grunted the skipper, after a few moments' thought, "he's only one, and you'll be how many?"

"I was taking eight of the men to row; that is to say, four rowers, and their relief; Cross for coxswain—nine; and our three selves."

"Nay, I'm not going till that brig's finished," said the skipper angrily.

"I felt assured of that," said the doctor. "The young Count is going to join us."

"Ah, that's better," said the skipper. "But look here, gentlemen, I only look upon myself as a servant."

"Not as mine," said the Count gravely. "I shall always look upon you, Captain Chubb, as one of my most valued friends."

"And I am sure Captain Chubb knows that I do," said the doctor, "and that I have ever since he set me down as a scoundrelly slaver."

"Oh, don't bring that up again, sir," grunted the skipper. "That was a blunder, and every man makes them. Well, that's very nice of you, gentlemen—very nice indeed; and I was going to speak out a bit nervously,—as I consider it to be my duty to do as Dr Robson's servant; but as you both speak of me as you do, I hope you won't be offended when I say outright that I don't like that Spanish chap at all."

"Well, I don't know that I particularly like him," said the doctor; "but he will be very useful to me, and show me what I want. I shall pay him for his services, and there'll be an end of it."

"Yes, gentlemen, that's right enough, but I wouldn't trust him a bit. The doctor will say that it is British prejudice. Perhaps it is; but here's my crew; there isn't a man among them as I'd say was perfect, but same time I'd lie down and go to sleep quite comfortable and feeling safe, if I knew any one of them was on the watch; and it did me good when I heerd you say, sir, that you wouldn't have any of the mongrel crew. If it had been the other way on, and you'd said you were going to take Mr Rodd and the young French gentleman and trust yourselves up the country in their boat, I'll tell you outright, sir, I should have struck against it, and if you'd held out and rode the high horse as master, why, there'd have been a mutiny. The men would have took my side, and we wouldn't have let you go."

"And quite right too, Chubb," said the doctor, clapping him on the shoulder. "It would have been a good proof that I had done wisely in making you my friend. What do you say, Count?"

"Quite right," was the reply. "Well, captain," continued the Count, "I don't see that the party can come to much harm with nine of your stout men to act as bodyguard, if this Spanish captain is used as a guide."

"No, sir, I don't see as they can; and as the doctor's come out on purpose to collect all kinds of curious things and see some of the wonders of the world, I suppose it is right that he should make use of a chance like this. But I wouldn't trust that man, gentlemen, farther than I could see him, and that's what, with your leave, I am going to say to my lads. I am just going to tell 'em that they have got to bring the three gentlemen back safe and sound, even if it means that some of them is going to lose the number of their mess, and that means this too, that if Mr Spanish skipper don't play his game fair—well then—"

The skipper ceased speaking, and screwed up his lips very tightly just in the light shed by the swinging lantern.

"Well, captain," put in Rodd, who felt rather amused at what he called the fuss the skipper was making, "why don't you finish what you were going to say?"

"Because I didn't think it was needed, my lad," was the reply. "What I meant was, that if the doctor here didn't think it was his duty to give that yellow chap a very strong dose, one of my lads would."

The doctor was in as high glee the next morning as the two lads, and, it might be added with justice, the nine sailors who were to form their crew, for to a man they were bubbling over with excitement and delight.

The moment they had heard that they were to go they began making their preparations; all their weapons were already in a perfect state of cleanliness, and shone as much as hands could make them, but every pistol and gun-lock was carefully re-oiled, every flint taken out and tightly replaced, while the blades of their cutlasses, that literally glittered, had a final touch given to them and the edges passed along the grindstone, which was sent spinning round in the little armoury as hard as it could go.

The skipper himself spent half the night with the steward, packing provisions, Joe Cross helping, for though he was to be coxswain of the boat, he said he came in there, for after the cook he held that he knew more about cooking "wittles" than any fellow in the ship, and this was acknowledged without dissent, though one of the men did say that Joe Cross took more than his share, since in addition to other duties he had the canisters of gunpowder in charge.

The morning was glorious, the sun and the early breeze soon chasing away the river mist, and before the tide had turned, everything was ready, the well-stored boat alongside, and an awning rigged up over the after-part big enough not merely to act as a screen for the gentlemen, but to shade those who were not rowing, while they were having their rest, while by a little addition the boat's sail could be spread over the little unshipped mast and used as a covering from the night dews when the boat was moored somewhere to the bank after the day's work was done.

"There, gentlemen," said the skipper, "I think that's about as near as we can get it; but I don't see no sign of your Spanish guide as yet. It seems to me as if every one yonder is asleep. Here, you, Joe Cross, I knowed there'd be something. You've forgotten that screwdriver and the little bottle of oil."

"That I aren't, sir! They're in the fore-locker in the little bag of tools."

"Good," grunted the skipper; "and I suppose you'll help the doctor and young Mr Rodd skin the birds they shoot?"

"That's right, sir, and Mr Rodd's been laying down the law to me to take care and keep that there soapy stuff covered over as he dresses the inside of the skins with, 'cause he says it's pison."

The skipper grunted again as he stood at the side and scowled down into the boat.

"Spun yarn?" he said sharply.

"Plenty, sir."

"But you lads never thought to give your jack-knives a whet, I'll be bound."

Joe Cross turned to the crew.

"Show knives, lads!" he shouted. "The skipper wants to try them all on his beard."

"Steady!" growled the skipper. "That's right, then. Well, Mr Rodd," he continued, "I suppose everything's all right. No; where's that there extra coil of new signal line?"

"Starn locker, sir," said Joe.

"And an extra line with new grapnel?"

"Fore-locker, sir," said Joe.

The captain grunted.

"Here, get the grapnel out of the jolly-boat and lash it under one of the thwarts. You might lose one again."

"There it is, sir," said Joe—"lashed just amidships out of the way."

"Come, come, captain," said the doctor good-humouredly as he took off his straw hat and wiped his moist brow, for he too had been as busy as the rest, "you have had your innings; I want to have mine. You, Rodney, you never thought to see that the quinine bottle in the little leather medicine chest was re-filled."

"Rammed it in tight, uncle," said the boy triumphantly, "and saw to all the other bottles."

"Then," said the doctor, "we'll say all is ready. Only look here, my lads; I'll give you half-an-hour before we start, so you had better go down below and have some more breakfast, for it will be a good many hours before we have another meal."

No one stirred.

"Well," said the doctor impatiently, "did you hear what I said?"

This time a low murmur ran through the crew, and Joe Cross took a step forward and touched his hat.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said; "the lads' respects, and they says they're all tight, cargo well stowed."

"Then you don't want the extra half-hour?" said the doctor, looking at his watch. "So there's nothing to do, then, my dear Count, and you, Captain Chubb, but for us to shake hands and say good-bye."

"Where's your guide?" grunted the captain.

"Ah, where's our guide?" said the doctor, looking in the direction of the Spanish three-master. "He said at the turn of the tide. I ought to have asked him to come here to breakfast."

"Here he comes, uncle," cried Rodd, for at that moment the head of the Spaniard's boat was rowed out from the other side of the anchored vessel, which might have been quite deserted, for not a head was to be seen.

"Hah!" cried the doctor. "I like that. It tells well for his being a trustworthy guide. So now good-bye, Count. Your son's mine till we come back."

The Count mastered his desire to embrace the doctor, and grasped his hand in regular English fashion, and by the time the Spaniard's little gig, rowed by two men, had come alongside, the last farewell had taken place with the captain, who then looked over the rail and grunted out—

"Coming aboard, senor?"

"No, no; but just one word. I have been talking to my crew, and told them they are to take their orders from you till I come back. They won't give you any trouble. Let them smoke and sleep as much as they like."

"All right," growled the skipper. "When shall we see you back?"

"When your senor likes," said the Spaniard, lighting a fresh cigarette from the one which had threatened to burn his moustache. "I take the boat as far up into the forest along the little rivers till he tells me to turn back, and then we will begin to row or sail the other way."

A few minutes later the French crew of the brig, and the men of the schooner who were to stay and help the carpenter and his mate, stood ready to give a farewell cheer. The travellers were on the boat, the rowers in their places, with their oars held upright ready to drop into the rowlocks, the little sail rolled round the mast was lying ready for use if a breeze sprang up, and Joe Cross stood right forward, boat-hook in hand, looking as smart as the rest of the crew, that is to say, just as if they had stepped off a man-of-war's deck, and then every one well-armed, ready for the attack upon any wild creatures they encountered, or for the defence of their lives against an enemy, waited for the skipper to give the signal to start, which he did at last by raising his hand.

Then, as the boat was pushed off into the now rising tide, a mingled French and English cheer arose, full of good wishes, while of the Spaniard's crew not a man was visible save the two in the captain's boat, who had just reached the three-master's stern and had begun to make fast.

The cheer was repeated as the Devon boat, in obedience to the dipping of the oars, glided farther out into mid-stream, while directly after there was a heavy swirl just beneath her bows, followed by the sudden protrusion of the huge grinning head of a fierce crocodile, the monster bent on mischief, and receiving a most unexpected salute, for Joe Cross was standing balancing his boat-hook in his hands, ready to lay it down along the thwart, but, quick almost as lightning, he gave it a twirl as he rested one foot upon the gunwale and drove it, harpoon fashion, crash into the reptile's head.

"He's got it!" cried the man, as he started back; but he did not escape the shower of water that was sent flying over the boat, the crocodile vigorously lashing the surface with its serrated tail as it floated astern.

"Yes," said the Spanish captain quietly, "but you had better shoot them, senores, and keep a little back from the side. There's plenty of them up the river, and one of you might get swept out of the boat."



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

NIGHT IN THE JUNGLE.

In spite of the risks run from the ravenous reptiles, whose daring proved that they had a hard struggle for existence, familiarity soon bred contempt, and the sailors laughed, as they proceeded up the beautiful river, at perils which not many days before would have made them turn pale.

For they were enjoying an excursion that seemed to present fresh beauties at every yard. As a rule the forest came down to the flowing water on both sides in waves of verdure, with grand trees which every now and then presented the aspect of some gorgeous flower garden, here red, there blue, at other times in lovely wreaths of white, while it seemed, Joe Cross said to the lads, as if one of the blossoming trees took flight every now and then and came skimming over the boat, filling the sky with flowers, so beautiful were the flocks of parrots and other birds that, apparently attracted by the strangers, flew screaming and whistling overhead.

There was no question about getting a shot at some beautiful green and orange long-tailed paroquet, or at one of the soft grey scarlet-tailed parrots which, as they flew across the river, shrieking at those who had interrupted their solitude, gave place to others of a delicate pink; but upon seeing Rodd raise his gun, the Spaniard laughed and said—

"Never mind them. I could fill my schooner with those things at any time. You wait till we get up into the little side river. There will be something better worth shooting then; or perhaps you would like to kill a few as you are coming back."

"Yes, Rodd," said the doctor; "that would be wiser, my lad."

"But suppose we don't see them as we come back," said the lad.

"Not see them?" said the Spaniard, laughing. "Why, the country's alive with them!"

Then as the party sated their eyes upon the various objects they passed, a light soft breeze arose when they turned into a bend of the river, and the Spaniard expressed his satisfaction, and suggested that the sail should be hoisted.

This was rapidly done, the oars were laid in, and Joe Cross came aft to preside at the newly-shipped rudder, while all through the rest of the day, and after the tide had run its course and become adverse, they tacked from side to side, or glided onward with the wind astern, the men only having at very rare intervals to take to their oars.

It was soon after mid-day that the doctor proposed that the boat should be run ashore and that they should land to dine at a lovely park-like opening where the dense portion of the forest had receded farther from the bank; but the Spaniard shook his head.

"No," he said, "don't do that. It looks very nice, but it isn't safe. There are the crocodiles basking about the bank, snakes and serpents nearly everywhere, and the leopards and other great cats hanging about among the trees. Keep aboard. It's safer here."

"He means to take care of us, Morny," said Rodd, in French, and directly after he gave his companion a meaning look, for the Spanish skipper turned to the doctor and said—

"Tell your men to have their guns handy."

"What for?" said the doctor. "Do you scent danger?"

"Nothing particular," replied the man, "but up here in these parts you never know what may happen next. Something may come just when you think you are safe, and it's best to be always ready."

So that and the following meal were eaten in the boat, which just before dark was at the Spaniard's suggestion run up into a calm reach where the forest had become very distant, while the river seemed to have widened out to double its former size.

Here he proposed that they should anchor for the night and wait for the morning before continuing their journey.

This was disappointing to the lads, who looked longingly at the shore, while Rodd suggested that there were several places that looked level, and where it would be easy to rig up a tent where they might sleep.

The Spaniard laughed, and with a grim smile said—

"You wanted a guide for coming up here, young man. If we did what you say we shouldn't all be ready to go on again in the morning."

"What, because of the wild beasts?" said Rodd eagerly.

The Spaniard nodded.

"He is quite right, Rodd," said the doctor. "And I suppose we might catch fever here?" he continued.

"Bad," said the Spaniard laconically. "Keep to the boat."

The night came down dark and beautiful; the great purple velvet arch that spread from side to side of the river was gloriously spangled with stars, for in the day's ascent the little party seemed to have left the river mists behind, and as they sat together the doctor and his young companions revelled in the loveliness of the scene, while they listened to the strange sounds from forest and river which constantly smote upon their ears and now seemed wondrously near.

"It seems very different," whispered Rodd to Morny, for something preyed upon his spirits and stayed him from speaking aloud.

"Yes," said Morny, in the same subdued tone; "it is very different from being aboard the vessels. I shan't go to sleep to-night; shall you?"

"No. Who could go to sleep? Why, as soon as one lay down I should expect to see the great slimy snout of a crocodile thrust over the boat's gunwale, and then—"

"I say," said Morny, "don't!"

But nothing worse than sounds troubled the party that night, as not long after this conversation the two lads obeyed the doctor's suggestion that they should creep under the awning, whose canvas sides were tightly belayed to the gunwale; and though both declared that they would never close their eyes, they and the watches into which the little crew was divided followed the Spanish skipper's example, and in turn slept heavily till sunrise, the great orange globe slowly rolling up over the edge of the forest and shining brilliantly down upon the glittering river, for as over-night there was not a sign of mist.

About half the day passed with plenty of favouring gales to help the boat along, and spare the men's arms, and Rodd commented on this to their guide.

"Wait a bit," he said. "A little farther on, and we shall turn into one of the little rivers where the high trees are close together at the sides. There won't be much wind there, and the men will have to row."

Everything was as he said, for as they passed out of the main stream the banks were but a little way apart, and in place of the full flow of the great river the stream grew sluggish; but everything being so close at hand the beauties of the forest became far enhanced.

"You said rivers," said the doctor suddenly. "Are there more than this one?"

"Plenty," replied the man, and he made himself a fresh cigarette as he sat back in the boat, to go on smoking. "Not so many crocodiles here," he said, "and they are smaller. More birds too. Look!" And as the men dipped their oars to row slowly up the winding stream, which often seemed to turn back upon itself, the Spaniard pointed now to tiny bee-like sunbirds with their dazzling metallic casques and gorgets—the brilliant little creatures that take the place of the humming-birds of the New World.

At another time, though the two lads, eagerly observant and with the doctor to back them, needed no showing, their guide pointed to the many brilliantly-tinted birds of the thrush family, at the barbets and trogons, not so brilliant as those of the Western world, but each lovely in itself, while as they went on and on along their meandering river path, the birds that struck them as being most novel and at the same time tame in the way in which they came down the overhanging branches of the great forest trees, as if their curiosity had been excited by the strangers, were the many-tinted plantain eaters, with their crested heads, and the lovely green and crimson touracoos, which, while their violet and crimson relatives wore, as it were, a feather casque, displayed on their part a vivid green ornamentation that passed from beak to nape, which when they were excited looked more like a plume.

They had come thus far without firing a shot, for the doctor had said—

"Let us leave the shooting till our return, and be contented with charging our memories and feasting our eyes, for no dried skins, however carefully they are preserved, will ever display the beauties of these birds' nature as we watch them here in life. But we must have a skin or two of these touracoos, for I want to show you lads the wonders of that vivid crimson upon their underparts."

"Oh, I can see it plainly enough, uncle," said Rodd.

"Yes," said Uncle Paul, "but you don't notice what I mean. Instead of that crimson being a beautiful dye fixed in the feathers, it is a soft red pigment which can be washed out into water and—I saw something moving up that creek," he added, in a low voice.

"Niggers perhaps," said the Spaniard, without turning his head.

"Likely to attack?" asked Rodd.

"Pish!" said the Spaniard contemptuously. "Harmless. Fishing perhaps. We shall see more, I expect, farther on."

He did not trouble himself to turn his head, though the rest in the boat kept a sharp look-out for what had attracted the doctor's attention up a narrow inlet arched over by the overhanging trees, but it was not until close upon evening that, as they pursued their winding way, this side stream opened out more into a reach, and then for the first time a movement some hundreds of yards behind brought forth a warning from Joe Cross, who was seated with the tiller in his hand.

"Just cast your eye back, Mr Rodd, sir," he said; "yonder there where the stream opened out it seems to me there's a canoe with a couple of Indians in it. Nay, I mean blacks."

"Yes; look, captain," said Rodd eagerly; and the Spaniard slowly raised himself up from where he was leaning back, took his cigarette from his lips, shaded his eyes, and then after a cursory glance replaced the cigarette and sank back.

"Niggers," he said. "Fishing."

Then they rowed on, leaving the two occupants of the canoe behind, till, coming to what he considered to be a suitable place, the Spaniard suggested that they should stay there for their meal upon an open sandy little beach some fifty yards across, beyond which the forest rose dark and thick again.

"We can land and light a fire," he said, "and make coffee and stretch our legs."

"It would not be safe," said the doctor, "to rig up a tent here, would it?"

"Oh yes," said the captain. "The only thing to trouble us here might be a leopard or two; but a shot would scare them away."

This was good news, and heartily welcomed by the whole party, and in a short time cooking was going on in the glowing embers of a fire, for which there was abundant fuel close at hand, while a canvas tent, strengthened by branches thrust deep in the sand, was cleverly contrived by the sailors.

"I say, Morny, this is something like!" cried Rodd, as they sat together watching the men finishing their meal, with their jovial contented faces lit up by the glowing fire which flashed and cast shadows and sent up golden clouds dotted with tiny spark-like embers, as it was made up from time to time, according to the Spanish captain's suggestion that it would keep away all wild beasts and clear off the snakes.

"Yes; my legs were beginning to feel cramped. I wonder how my father is."

"Oh, he's happy enough," said Rodd, "and enjoying himself with the thought that Skipper Chubb has had a good day's work getting on a new outer skin over the hole."

"Ah, yes, I hope so," cried Morny eagerly, his friend's suggestion seeming to brighten him up.

"And I say," cried Rodd, "shan't we sleep to-night! How I shall stretch! I don't think I should much mind a great spotted cat coming and sniffing round the tent. Of course it would be very horrid to be clawed or bitten, but there's something natural about that. The idea of being grabbed by one of those great slimy reptiles and dragged under water, and before you have had time to squeak—"

"Rodd, don't, please!" cried Morny, with a shudder. "It makes my flesh creep."

"Yes; I was going to say it's time you lads changed your conversation," said the doctor quietly, "for none of the forest creatures are likely to disturb us to-night with a watch-fire kept up like this."

"But I say, uncle," said Rodd mischievously, later on—when the watch had been set, with a big pile of dead firewood laid ready to replenish the fire, and Uncle Paul was about to follow the example of the Spanish captain and select his patch of dry sand covered with canvas, beneath the extemporised tent.

"Well, what, my boy?" said the doctor drowsily. "Don't talk now. I am sure every one wants to go to sleep."

"Yes, uncle; I am sure I do," said the boy, who was already fitting the projecting bones of his back into the yielding sand; "but do you think it's likely—"

Rodd stopped to give Morny, who was beside him, a nudge with his elbow.

"Do I think what's likely, Pickle?" replied the doctor.

"That those two black fellows we saw in the canoe will sneak ashore to come and do anything to us with their spears?"

"Rodney!" cried the doctor indignantly.

"But they are sure to have spears, uncle, or else they couldn't be sticking the fish."

"Go to sleep, sir!" said the doctor angrily.

Rodd went at once, and did not stir again, till an extra loud crackling of burning wood made him start up in wonder and alarm.

But it was only the morning watch, in the persons of Joe Cross and the appointed cook, making up the fire afresh in view of what Joe called boiling the billy and to give the cook some good broiling embers, for it was the break of day once more.



CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

THE STRANGERS.

Rodd's toilet did not take him long, for though the water was clear and tempting as it rippled on the sand, the recollection of what might possibly be there in the way of ravenous fish, if even there were no reptiles, kept him from venturing for a swim, while when he suggested to the Spaniard the possibility of bathing in safety, the man looked at him in surprise, and his words were tinged with contempt as he said—

"Bathe! What for?"

Rodd did not answer, but turned his back quickly and hurried away to where Morny was questioning Joe Cross and the cook about whether the men they had succeeded in the watch had heard anything in the night.

"Here, catch hold of me, you two," Rodd gasped out, "and help me away there among the trees."

"Hah! What's the matter?" cried Morny. "Are you taken bad?"

"Horrid. Don't talk to me. Get me out of sight. I am going off."

Morny and Joe each caught him by an arm and hurried him in amongst the trees.

"Don't be frightened," gasped out Rodd. "Oh, that Spanish chap! He'll be the death of me!"

"Why, you are laughing!" cried Morny angrily. "How dare you frighten us like this!"

"I—I—I—I—" gasped out Rodd—"couldn't help it, old fellow. Oh, that Spaniard!"

Morny was really angry, but Joe Cross's frank face had expanded into a grim smile.

"What game's he been up to, Mr Rodd, sir?"

"Oh, it was very stupid of me," said Rodd, wiping his eyes; "but I was afraid of laughing in his face, and the more I tried to look serious the more it would come; and I didn't want to offend him."

"Just like 'em, sir," said Joe, as Rodd explained himself more fully. "'Tis their natur' to; and besides, it's what an old woman I used to know called being codimical. Yes, sir, I've watched 'em aboard that there three-masted schooner. Them there mongrel chaps, they must save a wonderful lot of money every year in soap."

"There," said Rodd, wiping his eyes again, "I am all right now; but it's very comic. The more you feel you mustn't laugh, the worse you are. I suppose laughing must do one good. I always feel so much better after having a good grin."

"Do you good, Mr Rodd, sir! I should just think it does! Why, it's natur'. Does you good to have a long talk sometimes, don't it; eh, Mr Morny, sir?"

"Oh yes, I suppose so," replied the lad.

"And you know it does you a lot of good to get your teeth to work when you are hungry, Mr Rodd."

"Yes, Joe," cried the lad eagerly. "What's for breakfast?"

"Ah, you wait a bit, sir, and you will see. But as I was saying about laughing, what's your smiling tackle for, and your grinning kit for, if they aren't to use and set you right when otherwise you would be all in the dumps? Yes, sir; give me a good laugh. But one don't always get one's share along with our old man. Still we like him, for he always means right by us. Ay, there's worse chaps in the world than old Chubb, and I'm just ready and waiting to drink his health and long life to him in a pannikin of the finest coffee a coxswain ever brewed; and as for the frizzled ham that cookie's got thriddled on sticks over them embers to eat with the dough-cakes he's baking in the ashes—Here, let's get back, for fear there's an accident."

"Accident?" said Morny. "Why, what accident could happen?"

"Out of sight, sir, out of mind; and that aren't a French proverb, but you might like to turn it into one as your countrymen could use. They might forget, sir, as we are here."

Well rested, in high spirits, and with a good breakfast waiting, the morning meal was eaten with the greatest of gusto, while to every one the expedition wore more and more the appearance of a delightful holiday.

There was an exception, though, and that was in the person of the Spanish captain, who looked grim and sombre, and ate little, but smoked a great deal.

Just as the tent was being struck and a clearance being made of the remains of the breakfast, Rodd suddenly called out—

"There they are again!" And he called attention to the two nearly nude blacks, who were creeping along the edge of the bank opposite to them in their canoe.

"Why, they are watching us," said Uncle Paul.

"Hungry," said the Spanish skipper laconically.

"Yes, that's it," cried Rodd, and after a glance at his uncle he tore down a wild banana leaf, turned it into a natural green dish, heaped upon it some of the remains of the breakfast, and carried it a short distance along the bank, where he placed it close to the water's edge, signed to the blacks, and then joined his companions, who were about to enter the boat.

Very soon afterwards they were gliding along the stream again, after the sailors, by Uncle Paul's orders, had carefully extinguished the remains of the fire.

"We don't want to start a conflagration, my boys," he said.

As the men slowly dipped their oars, for there was not a breath of wind, the two lads had to make an effort to, as it were, drag their eyes from the lovely floral scene on either side of the little river, while they watched the proceedings of the blacks.

"Well, they are a pair of stupids," said Rodd. "What is it—ignorance or suspicion?"

For the two dark objects remained on the farther bank, one seated with a paddle, the other upright, spear in hand, holding on by an overhanging bough to keep their boat from drifting on with the current.

"Suspicion," said Morny quietly.

"Miserable wretches! Do they think I want to poison them?"

"No. I'll tell you," said Morny. "Poor creatures, they have been so ill-used by the white people with black hearts who come to these shores that they think the food you have put there is the bait of a trap."

"To catch blackbirds! Why, of course! They think we want to carry them off for slaves. They're as bad as old Captain Chubb; eh, uncle? He took us for slavers, Morny, when uncle wanted to engage him. Well, I forgive them, poor chaps.—Ah, they think it's safe now. They're going to risk taking the bait."

For all at once the two negroes began to paddle themselves slowly across the river to where the bright green banana leaf lay glistening upon the sand, and the last the two lads saw then of those they had tried to benefit, as the boat glided on with four oars dipping and making the water flash like silver, was with the canoe drawn up on to the sands, the two savage-looking blacks squatting on their heels, eagerly devouring the remains of the breakfast. "Oh, never mind the sun being hot, uncle," cried Rodd, as they went on and on. "I don't mind if I'm half roasted. Look, Morny; did you ever see anything so lovely? Look at the flowers on that great tree. Why, it seems to blaze with scarlet."

"Yes, and look at the birds," was the reply. "I wish my father were here, with his mind at rest, to enjoy all this as I do, or should if he were with us. There, quick! What's that—running in there among the leaves on that tree?"

"Snake," cried Rodd, who just caught sight of the movement. "No. Who ever saw a snake with four legs? Why, it's a great lizard of a thing! Why, uncle, that must be one of those queer chaps that turn all sorts of colours."

"Yes," said the doctor, "you are right, Pickle," and he focussed upon it a little old-fashioned single opera-glass which he carried in his pocket. "That's a chameleon, sure enough; and a big one too, I should say, though it's the first one I ever saw alive."

"What's he after?" said Rodd.

"Having a game, catching butterflies, I think, sir," suggested Joe Cross. "So he is, Joe."

"Why, Master Rodd, it makes us chaps wish we was boys again and ashore there running after them butterflies with our caps; only one couldn't run among the trees, and they fly too high. I never see flutterbies, as we used to call them, with colours like these, though. We used to catch white 'uns, and yaller ones, and sometimes what we used to call tortoiseshells. But I call all this 'ere—Look there, sir; there's one as big as my hand—two—lots on 'em! Yes, I do call this 'ere dead waste both of the butterflies and the birds."

"Why, my man?" said the doctor quietly.

"Why, sir, everything you see flying about in the air is as lovely as lovely, and no one to look at them. Why, if I had my way I'd have all these sort of things flying about in old England. Yes, sir, they are all wasted here."

"That they aren't, Joe," cried Rodd. "We are looking at them, and enjoying them; and I say, uncle, isn't it time we began to get some specimens?"

"Plenty of time yet, my boy. Why, captain, the country here on either side is very beautiful."

"Satisfied, then?" said the Spaniard coolly.

"Thoroughly," replied the doctor, "and very glad to have met with such a guide."

"But I say, captain," cried Rodd, "don't forget the big monkeys and the leopards."

"Oh no," said the Spaniard. "Farther on yet; and I can't be sure. There are plenty in the woods one day, and the next they are gone. But we shall come across some of them." And he sank back smoking again.

"Just look at him," said Rodd. "He doesn't seem to take notice of anything."

"These things have grown common to him," replied Morny quietly; "but don't look only at the trees on the banks. Cast your eyes down sometimes into the clear water."

"Don't say there are any of those great reptiles here," said Rodd hurriedly.

"No, I have not seen one to-day; but look at the fish we disturb. They go gliding away to right and left like so many flashes of silver and gold."

"Now, boys, there's something," said the doctor. "Right across the river." For there was a rush and a splash as some animal that had evidently been wading close in under the bank sprang out of the water with a rush, and disappeared amongst the low growth.

"What's that, captain?" cried Rodd, making a snatch at his gun.

"Hog," said the Spaniard quietly. "Did you see it?" asked Rodd. "No; I know the noise they make. Plenty here." And then it was birds, anon flowers, and some two or three miles farther on Joe Cross, who sat just behind the boys, tiller in hand, glanced at the doctor and asked—"Which way?"

For the river forked into two of equal size, and at his question the Spaniard raised his eyelids a little and made a sign with his left hand.

This branch proved to be if anything more rich in its objects of beauty than the winding stream they had left, for there was enough to sate even the most exacting lover of nature, while there always seemed to be something fresh. One minute a sailor would be pointing out a brilliantly-scaled thin green serpent gliding along the surface of the water, eel-like in motion, but with its back quite exposed to the sunshine, giving it the look of frosted silver, while before long another man made his discovery, the whole party being eagerly on the watch for fresh objects of interest, and at this, without waiting for orders, the rowers ceased dipping their oars, to let the boat drift slowly by a lovely curtain of fine strands and leaves dotted with flowers which hung down from some fifty feet up, till the tips of the twigs touched the water.

In amongst these vine-like branches a vividly-coloured serpent that appeared to be some six or eight feet long, and but little thicker than a man's thumb, was deliberately climbing and twining, its eyes having first attracted attention by sparkling in the sunshine.

"Don't seem afraid of tumbling into the water," suggested Joe.

"Wouldn't matter if it did," said Rodd. "You saw that one a little while ago, how it could swim."

"So, I did, sir; so I did," replied the man, who was as much interested as the naturalists of the party. "But there are such a lot of good things to see that one seems to shove the other out of your head. Now, what will that chap be doing there, slithering about over the water? Out for a walk?"

"Trying to catch one of those bright little sunbirds, I suppose," said Rodd.

"No," said the doctor, who was watching the serpent through his glass. "I should say that one is after birds' nests."

"Think of that!" cried Joe. "But he wouldn't blow the eggs, sir, would he, and make a string?"

"No, my man," said the doctor, smiling, "but swallow them, I should say, or the young birds that he might find in the nest. Why, Rodd, my boy, one wants three or four lives here, and then one wouldn't see half the wonders of this paradise. Here's world within world of wonder and beauty."

"Row away, my lads," said the Spaniard, who seemed to have only one object in life, and that the re-lighting of cigarettes.

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the men, and they dipped their oars again.

Then on turning a bend of the stream there was a waft of warm wind to fan their cheeks, when the sailors forward stepped the mast, and hoisted the yard of the lug-sail, which filled out at once, the rowers laid in their dripping oars, which seemed to shed diamonds and pearls back into the stream, and away they glided among the glories of the low flat land, through which streams seemed to run like veins, forming a perfect maze of waterways, each if possible more beautiful than the other, while proving wonderfully similar in width and depth, so much so that at last, after winding round bend after bend of the last stream they had entered, the doctor turned suddenly to their guide and said—

"Why, captain, how are we going to find the way back again?"

The captain opened his eyes slightly and smiled, as he took a little compass from his pocket.

"With this," he said; "but—pah! I could find my way here with my eyes shut. Look; there's a good place for a fire, and the boys here can get plenty of good fish, if you have a line, for the men to cook."

At this suggestion Joe Cross handed the tiller to Rodd and made his way forward to the locker, from which he produced a couple of fishing-lines.

The boat was run ashore at a similar patch of sand to that where they had made their previous halt, and while some of the men were collecting dead wood from beneath the trees, there was a sudden rush, and something yellowish dropped with a thud from the nearest great fork, made four or five great bounds through the low bushes, and disappeared.

"Leopard," said the Spanish captain quietly. "Get out your gun, sir. His mate will not be far away."

He had hardly spoken before another of the great cats leaped from bough to bough of the huge forest tree they had approached, and disappeared in turn, escaping unscathed.

"You are keeping your word, sir," said Rodd. The Spaniard smiled, and remained in his place, while Joe Cross and the lads paddled the boat out again to a spot the Spaniard pointed out, and there dropped the grapnel, before beginning to fish, using small pieces of fat pork for their bait.

Long before the fire had burnt up enough for cooking purposes or the great kettle had boiled in the shade of the huge tree that had been chosen for kitchen, bites had become frequent, and fine carp-like fish, whose golden scales glittered in the light, were being hauled into the boat; but eager though the lads were, and full of enjoyment of their sport, it was hot out there in the sun, and arms were beginning to ache, while hunger asserted itself more and more.

"I say, Morny," cried Rodd, "enough's as good as a feast."

"Yes, sir," cried Joe, "and we have got enough and the feast to come, for these look as if they'd be good. Shall we put ashore?"

Rodd nodded assent, and soon after Joe and a couple of his mates had been busy with their knives on the sandy river bank, the unwonted sound made by a frying-pan arose from the fire, with the result that there was no doubt about the carp-like fish being good, and the al fresco dinner proving a success.

The afternoon was wearing on when the preparations for a fresh start were made, the Spaniard promising the doctor that he would point out another good resting-place for the night before it was dark.

"All aboard!" cried Joe just then. "Why, look at that now! Well, there's plenty of fish left, Mr Rodd, and in this 'ere hot country we had better have it fresh."

"Why, I didn't expect to see them again, uncle," cried Rodd, and he pointed across the river to where the two blacks with their canoe had suddenly appeared, as if they had been in hiding and watching the cooking going on till it seemed to them that their time had come, when they lay there with their boat just as before, apparently waiting till the strangers had gone on.

"Do they mean to keep on following us like this, captain?" asked Rodd.

"Quien sabe?" he said. "It is a free country, and you will not mind?"

"Mind! No," cried Rodd. "But they will have to cook what are left for themselves. I say, uncle, can we trust them to put the fire out afterwards?"

"Oh yes, my lad. I suppose we must."

"That's right, Mr Rodd, sir. They'll take care not to fry themselves. But here, cookie, don't you leave them our pan."

Once more as the boat swept round a bend a glimpse was caught of the two blacks, who had no hesitation now about paddling across to the deserted halting-place.

The Spaniard was as good as his word that evening in guiding them to another bivouac, and that night, feeling perfectly secure, the lads lay down to sleep, looking forward to another day of intense enjoyment in the wondrous labyrinth of Nature's beauties, far from feeling satisfied with what had gone before.

Three more days passed, and halt after halt had been made at spots which always presented just the right facilities required, the Spaniard proving how great was his knowledge of the geography of the country through which they rowed or sailed, while the two blacks, who over and over again seemed to have disappeared, always turned up again ready for the departure of the travellers, who now took it as a matter of course to leave plenty of fish or flesh collected by the guns for the poor savages' support.

More than once the lads had made advances to these men, to try and get them to approach, but their shyness and suspicion were most marked, and they never came near till the departing boat was some distance off.

"Now," said the doctor, one evening, "I have been mentally marking down such birds and insects as I wish for us to collect, so to-morrow morning all this pleasure-seeking must come to an end, and we'll all work hard, shooting, skinning, and boxing a few butterflies as well."

"What a pity!" said Rodd. "I should like to go on yet for weeks."

"So should I, Pickle, but we must get back to the schooner."

"And the brig," cried Morny eagerly.

"Yes, my lad," said the doctor, "and I am afraid the Count will think we have exceeded our time; but we shall be going steadily back from to-morrow morning, collecting as we go, and I am sure you will agree that we have had a grand excursion, everything having been most successful."

The following morning broke as gloriously fine as ever. The fire was crackling, and Joe Cross announced that it was not fish that morning, but fried bacon, and soon after the pleasant aromatic scent of the coffee was rising in the morning air as they took their seats in the shade of a great fig-like tree whose boughs seemed to be full of twittering and whistling love-birds gathered in a huge flock to feed upon the saccharine embedded seeds of the little fruit.

"Hullo!" said the doctor suddenly, turning to Rodd. "Where's the Don?"

"Having another cigarette somewhere, I suppose, uncle," said Rodd, laughing. "I thought he was along with you."

"No, my boy," replied Uncle Paul. "I thought he went with you this morning when you made the men row a little farther along the stream."

"That was only to take a last look upward and see what it was like farther on before we turned back; and it is so beautiful up there— better than anything we have seen. I say, uncle, let's have another day."

"No, no, Rodd," cried Morny, catching him by the arm. "I couldn't bear it. We must go back now."

"Quite right, Morny, my boy," said the doctor quietly. "Yes, we have come to the end of our tether. Let's get back to the Count and Captain Chubb."

"Well, all right," said Rodd. "Never mind what I said, Morny, old chap. I always was a pig when I was getting anything I liked. Let's have breakfast, and then—

"Huzza! We're homeward bound—ound—ound! Huzza! We're homeward bound!"

he trolled out merrily; and then, clapping his hands to his lips, "Espanol ahoy!" he shouted.

"Ahoy!" came back from the bank of trees across the little river.

"Espanol ahoy!" shouted the boy again, and there was the answering echo.

"Well, I hear you!" cried Rodd merrily. "But how did you get there without the boat?"

There was no answer to this.

"Coffee and fried ham!" roared Rodd.

"'Am!" came back.

"Yes, but it's only bacon!" shouted Rodd.

"'Acon!"

"Well, why don't you come?"

"Don't be stupid, Rodney," cried the doctor shortly. "Here, Cross— cook—any of you; have you seen the Spanish skipper?"

"No, sir!" came in chorus.

"Dear me," said the doctor thoughtfully; "now I come to think of it I don't remember seeing him this morning."

"No, uncle; nor I neither. Did you see him, Morny?"

"No, not this morning. I saw him talking with you last night, sir."

"Yes; that was when I was saying that we should start back for certain, and he went and lay down in his usual place, close to the side of the tent, directly afterwards."

"Oh yes; he was there when we lay down, wasn't he, Morny?"

"Yes; I remember that."

"But we have not seen him since, uncle."

"Very strange," said the doctor, and turning to the men he questioned them in turn, with the result that all were sure that they had not seen the Spaniard since over-night.

The doctor and the two lads stood gazing at one another for some minutes in silence.

"Do you think anything could have happened to him?" said Morny at last.

"Oh no," cried the doctor sharply. "He's too much at home here in these wild parts for that."

"But I was thinking, uncle—" said Rodd, in a hesitating way.

"Thinking of what, my boy?"

"That there might be some few crocodiles up here in this narrow part of the river, after all."

"Absurd, Rodney! Don't jump at conclusions like that!" cried the doctor.

"But they are such horribly fierce creatures, uncle."

"Don't be absurd, sir! Is it likely that one of those reptiles could have come up out of the river, crawled into the tent, and dragged him out again, without some one knowing it? No; he must have got up early and gone off by himself somewhere, as this is as far as we were to go, meaning to see if he could find the traces of a chimpanzee, so as to show us one or more before we start back."

"Yes, that's possible, uncle," said Rodd. "And perhaps he has found one."

"Very likely; and if he has he'll soon be back to take us on the trail."

"Perhaps so, uncle," said Rodd meaningly.

"Why do you speak like that, sir?"

"Because I say he may have found one, uncle."

"Well—and then?"

"The chimpanzee won't let him come back."

"Really, Rodney, you make me very angry sometimes," cried the doctor. "If ever there happens to be a little hitch of any kind you immediately clap it under your mental microscope and try to make it as large as you possibly can. That's it for certain, Morny. He wants to keep perfect faith with us, and so he has gone to see whether he can find any signs of these great apes. Well, we won't let the breakfast spoil, and it would be a sort of madness to go hunting about in the forest for his tracks; so come along. I dare say he'll be back long before we have done."

But the breakfast was eaten without any sign of the Spaniard, and now the doctor began to be thoroughly uneasy, for the time was there when they ought to be starting on their backward journey, and minute by minute he grew more impatient.

His excitement was shared by the two lads, and the men were questioned again and again, while all joined in searching round the little encampment as far as was possible; and that was a very short distance, for almost directly after the stretch of sand was passed they came upon dense shrubby growth, and beyond this there were the huge forest trees matted together by vines and lianas into an impassable wall, while as far as could be made out there was no trace of any one having tried to force his way through.

"Most singular thing," said the doctor. "We can't go away and leave him alone in these wilds. But have everything ready for an immediate start, and we must wait."

"I say, Morny," said Rodd, "what do you make of this? Here, stop a minute, though. Can you think of any way by which he could go?"

Morny shook his head.

"There's no path into the forest," he said, "and it's just as dense on the other side if any one ventured to swim across the river to go from there."

"To go where?" said Rodd sharply.

"I don't know. I was only thinking of what any one might try to do."

"And then," said Rodd, "there's only up the river and down the river, and he had no boat. But it's no use to bother; we have got to wait and see; and we mustn't forget those two poor niggers. I wonder whether they will follow us back?"

"Sure to," said Morny; "right back to the vessels."

"Hi! Joe Cross!" cried Rodd. "Put what's left of the breakfast in a wild banana leaf again and leave it on the bank."

"Got it all ready here, sir," was the reply.

"Why, Morny," cried Rodd, catching his companion sharply by the arm, "where are the niggers?"

"Where are the niggers?" said the young Frenchman, staring.

"Yes; they have always been ready waiting till we finished our meals. They were there last night."

"Yes," said Morny; "they were there last night."

"Then where are they this morning?"

Morny looked across the river and back at his companion, while the doctor, who had been conversing with the men, came hurriedly up and joined them.

"What are you two talking about?" he said.

"About those two blacks, uncle," said Rodd, whose voice sounded rather husky.

"What about them, sir?"

"They have always been hanging about, uncle, till we had done our meals, and then waited for what was left."

"Yes. True. I saw them paddle across last night in the dark and fetch what was put for them, in a curious animal-like way."

"But you didn't see them go back, uncle?"

"Yes, I did, sir, and I remember thinking how cat-like they were in their actions, pouncing upon the food and eating it there and then. I watched them till they had done, so as to see them steal off again with their boat, and I meant to write a note about it in my paper regarding this trip."

"Well, they are not waiting this morning, uncle," said the boy meaningly.

"No," said the doctor, glancing in the direction of the wild banana leaf.

"Well, uncle, what do you make of that?"

"I don't know, my lad. What do you make of it?"

"I don't quite know, uncle. They are savages."

"Yes, boy, they are savages."

"And they've got spears, uncle," said the boy meaningly.

"There you go again, sir!" cried Uncle Paul, irascibly now. "You know perfectly well, Rodney, how this sort of thing annoys me. I suppose the next thing you will be telling me is that one of them came with his spear and behaved as one of Captain Cook's friends says the Australian blacks behaved to the girls they wanted to steal for their wives."

"No, I don't, uncle," cried the boy ill-humouredly. "I don't know what Captain Cook's friends say. I hardly know who Captain Cook is—Yes, I do: he's the man who sailed round the world."

"Well, then, I'll tell you, sir. He said the blacks come in the dark, twist their spears in the girls' hair, and carry them away. And I suppose you mean to infer that that's what has become of the Spanish captain?"

"I don't, uncle," cried Rodd.

"But if you do, sir, you are wrong; for the Don, as you two lads nicknamed him, had hardly a bit of hair on his head. There, there, there; being cross won't make any better of it. Hope to goodness that nothing has happened to the poor fellow. Can't have got up in the night and walked away in his sleep, can he?"

"Well, but if he had, uncle, he must have woke up by this time, and then he'd walk back again."

"Well, we can't go without him, my dear lads. He has been a very faithful servant to us, and it would be a mean, cowardly, despicable act for us to leave him in the lurch. Oh, it's impossible. It would be little better than murder to leave a man here without a boat."

Rodd looked hard at Morny, as if questioning him with his eyes; and so the French lad took it to be, for he made a deprecating gesture with his hands.

The doctor was watching his nephew keenly, and now clapped him sharply on the shoulder.

"What are you thinking about, sir?" he cried.

"About what you said, uncle," said the lad, rather confusedly.

"I didn't say anything, sir. I was listening to you."

"Yes, you did, Uncle Paul," said the boy sternly. "You said that it would be murder to leave a man here without a boat."

"Oh, of course. So I did. And so it would be, sir. But now look here, Rodd. I haven't known you, sir, since you were little more than a baby without being able to read some of the changes which come over your face. What were you thinking about that boat?"

"I was thinking, uncle, suppose he had one."

"But he hadn't one. Look here, sir; you are thinking something, and suspecting something."

"Yes, uncle, I am; but I don't know what."

"I suppose that's because you were prejudiced against the Spaniard by what Chubb said."

"I suppose so, uncle. You know how he said he wouldn't trust that man a bit?"

"Yes, yes."

"Well, I always felt that I couldn't trust him a bit."

"Prejudice, boy—prejudice."

"I dare say it was, uncle; and when I found how he showed us everything we wanted I tried to believe in him; but my head felt as if it wouldn't go."

"He hadn't got a boat; he hadn't got a boat," said the doctor, as if to himself.

"No, uncle; but suppose he had got a canoe?"

"That's it," cried Morny excitedly. "You are right, Rodd. You think those were his two men?"

"Yes," said Rodd. "Two black fellows out of his schooner."

"And—and—" panted Morny, as the doctor's jaw fell and he stood staring at the two lads, utterly speechless—"you believe that he has led us right out here in this wild maze of a place to lose us, while he goes back to—to—"

The poor fellow broke down, and Rodd caught him by the hand; but Morny in the passion of his emotion snatched his away.

"Don't—don't say it!" he cried.—"While he has gone back for who knows what? Oh, father, father, why did I come away?"

"Stop, boys, stop!" cried Uncle Paul; and to the surprise of both he plumped himself down upon the sand, drawing up his knees, planting his elbows upon them, and resting his burning head upon his hands. "Wait a bit," he said. "I want to think; I want to think; I want to think. Ah-h-h!" he groaned, at last. "Who could have imagined it? Who could have thought it? A trick—a ruse!"

Then springing up he looked sharply round, to see that the boat's crew were grouped together watching him wonderingly, and that seemed to bring him to himself at once. He turned sharply upon Rodd and gave him a grave nod of the head, and said quietly—

"I am afraid you are right, my boy. Morny, my lad, I told your father that in this expedition you should be to me as my son. Let me play the father to you now, and tell you that it is your duty to act as a man."

"Act as a man, sir—" began Morny.

"Yes, my boy; act and not talk. Aboard, every one of you, my lads," he continued, to the sailors. "I am afraid we have been wiled away here by a cunning trick, for what reason remains to be proved. But whatever it means, we are twelve staunch men with our duty before us, and that is, to get back as quickly as possible to the schooner and the brig. I may be deceived, but I believe we are the victims of a plot, and if so I am afraid it will go hard with that Spaniard when we meet. Now, then, I don't know how long it will take, but we have got to do it, and when we get back to our schooner, no matter what has happened, there's ten guineas apiece as a sort of prize-money for the brave lads who have helped to pull us through."

A loud excited cheer burst from the crew, and several voices broke in afterwards with something indistinguishable amidst the noise.

"What's that? What's that I hear?" cried the doctor sharply to Joe Cross.

"The lads say they don't want no ten guineases, sir, but they'd all give as much as that to get hold of that dirty Spaniel by the neck."

"Hah!" ejaculated the doctor. "Now then, not ten guineas, but twenty, for the man among you who can guide us through this wilderness of waters back to our stout Devon boat. Now then, who's the one among you who can act as guide?"

A dead silence fell upon the group, and for the first time since their start a black storm-cloud began to spread slowly over the sky.



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

WET DUST IN THE EYE.

It was the precursor of a terrible tropic tempest, with bluish lightning that was blinding, while the roar of heaven's artillery was incessant. But not a man blenched as the rowers bent to their oars, gladdened by the feeling that the current was with them, as they sent the boat rapidly along for their last halting-place. But a mile had hardly been covered when, with a wild shriek and roar, down came the rain, not in showers or in drops, but in sheets so heavy that before a minute had elapsed every one was drenched, and soon after two of the men had to begin to bale.

To proceed was impossible, and braving the risk, the boat was rowed beneath the overhanging branches of one of the monarchs of the primeval forest which reached its limbs far out over the stream, and there, somewhat protected, the boat was moored. For quite a couple of hours the little party crouched in the bottom, aiding the shelter by spreading the sail over the awning, the men holding on to keep the canvas from being swept off by the howling gale, while the rain poured off in buckets-full, as the men said.

Then a new danger attacked them. The stream swelled and swelled till the boat rose feet higher and was forced in among the low-hanging branches, while the great risk now was that they might be swept out and along the furious torrent into which the sluggish river had been turned.

But just as it seemed impossible to hold on any longer, and when the forest on either side had become river too, the rain ceased as suddenly as it had begun, the wind dropped, and the clouds began to pass away, while in less than an hour the sun was shining brightly down, and huge clouds of steam floated over the flooded land.

It was impossible to cast off from their mooring, for every man agreed that to follow the course of the rushing water would mean that they would be swept away from the river and in all probability be capsized before they had gone many hundred yards.

There was nothing for it, then, but to bale hard and free the boat from water, wring out and try to dry their saturated garments, and do what they could in the way of drying the sail and awning, in the hope that the flood would soon pass away.

Fortunately Cross was soon able to announce that the water was sinking, and this continued so rapidly that before many hours had passed they were able to put off once more into the stream, which had pretty well returned to the limits of its banks; and the drying of their clothes and of such stores as had suffered followed in rapid course.

But it was a disheartening commencement of their journey back to the main river, and darkness fell upon a desolate and terribly depressed company, who passed the night of solitude and despair wondering what had happened at the anchorage where the brig had been left careened.

Rodd had tried to whisper comfort to his comrade, but only to be met with imploring words, the lad begging to be allowed to sit and think; and Rodd respected his prayer.

No better fortune attended him with Uncle Paul, who sternly bade him be silent.

"I too must think, my lad," he said—"and pray."

The silence was shared by the sailors, who only indulged in a whisper now and then.

And how the rest of that night passed away Rodd hardly knew. Of one thing only was he quite certain, and that was that sleep never visited the occupants of that boat.

Daylight at last, when such provisions as were absolutely necessary were partaken of as the boat went steadily down-stream, for there was water enough in the river still to have completely changed its sluggish character, while this was hailed by the men with delight, seeing that it helped their course, while wherever the wind was available the sail was hoisted and they sped along, every one keeping a sharp look-out for their last bivouac but one, it having been decided amongst them that they must have been swept by that one, which was hidden by the swollen stream.

But in spite of the keen observation of the sailors and the sharp look-out by the doctor and the two lads, that day passed without the familiar sandy embayment among the trees being sighted, and before long it became a certainty that they were gliding along a different channel to any they had passed before.

The flood might have altered the stream to a certain extent, but they passed banks that were certainly different, and just at dusk when a brisk breeze was blowing they glided through an opening among the trees which did not seem familiar, and the question arose, should they turn back?

But before it was settled, darkness fell, and another dismal night was passed.

The next day broke bright and fine, and encouraged thereby, every man was keenly on the alert to try and sight one of the Spaniard's halting-places; but it was long before such an opening was found, and then when it was hailed with delight as their resting-place at the end of that day's work, it was forced upon them that they had never been there before.

Fortunately, though their stores were diminished in quantity, fish were plentiful, and every now and then a bird fell to Rodd's or the doctor's gun, for it was felt to be a necessity, as more and more all realised that they were involved in a perfect labyrinth or network of watery ways, and that their stores should be supplemented. For opening after opening in the great walls of verdure kept presenting itself, nearly always involving the party in a dispute as to whether they had been there before, till their mental confusion became greater, their ideas more sadly confused, and the tract of low-lying water-netted country, far from seeming the paradise through which they had glided on their way up, now seemed the dwelling-place of despair.

"Isn't there one of you who can guide us aright?" cried the doctor despairingly. "Is it possible that what seemed so easy to that treacherous Spanish wretch should prove such a horrible problem to us all?"

For a time no one spoke, the men hanging their heads, and by way of showing their earnestness tugging harder at their oars. But at the next appeal Joe Cross was egged on to make some answer.

"You see, sir," he said, "there isn't anything we wouldn't do for you. The lads here are sharp enough, but they wants a handle to work them. We are only sailors, used to having an officer over us, and without him we aren't much account."

"Oh," groaned the doctor to Rodd, "and I cannot direct them! Rodd, boy, my brain feels as if it were giving way."

"Don't be down-hearted, sir. Don't chuck up your pluck, young gentlemen," continued the poor fellow earnestly. "We must get out at last. It all seemed so easy as we come up; but without that Spanish chap, and now that it seems to be all turned upside down like, as we are coming back'ards, it's like looking for a needle in a bottle of hay. You see, me and my messmates have turned it all over in our heads, and it always comes to this, that that storm either made us take a wrong turning, or else that that Spaniard took us into a tangle of watercourses out of which no one but him and them niggers could find the way."

"Yes, yes," said the doctor; "we were thoroughly trapped into what has proved to be a horrible maze."

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Joe. "And amazing it is; but we are not going to give up, sir. Wish we may all die if we do; for you see, it must all come right at last. We have a lot of provisions, plenty of powder and shot; we can't fail for fresh water, which is a great thing for sailors; there's wood enough to make fires for five hundred years; and as for good fish to eat, why, you could almost catch them with your hands."

"No, my men," said the doctor, more firmly, "we are not going to despair, for if we keep going down-stream we must reach the main river at last."

"That's what I keep thinking, uncle," cried Rodd; "but every time we turn out of one of these rivers we seem to get into another, and I want to know why it is that we have never yet come upon a sandy patch where we made a fire."

Embayments of this kind they found again and again during the next few days of their, so to speak, imprisonment in this labyrinth, and in which they were fain to halt for food and sleep; but whether the flood had obliterated all signs of their occupation, or whether the places were absolutely fresh, they never knew.

One thing was determined on, and that to keep on with dogged British obstinacy till the problem was solved, and after losing count of the days that they had spent in the forest, and after vain usage of the compass, which had only seemed to lead them more and more astray, they had their reward one noon, when the boat was run up on to the sand of a forest nook which seemed strikingly familiar, and Rodd and Morny both sprang out, gun in hand, followed by Joe Cross, who excitedly cried—

"All right, gentlemen! Here we are at last! I'd just swear to this tree and that other big one right across the river."

"Yes," cried the doctor; "this, I am quite certain, is where we set up our tent the night we missed our guide."

"The morning, uncle," cried Rodd. "Yes, boy; I should have said the morning. Look, Morny! You do not speak. Isn't this our last halting-place on our way up?"

The French lad gave his hands a despairing wave in the air.

"Yes," he said; "that's what I feel, sir. Why, we have been all these weary, weary days trying to get back to the river so that we might row away to the brig, and this is the spot from which we started!"

"Well, gentlemen," cried Joe Cross, "I say hooray to that. Yes, this is the place, aren't it, messmates?"

"Yes, yes," came in an excited chorus, for the discovery seemed to have sent a thrill of joy through all the men.

"That's right, messmates," cried Joe. "Then all we have got to do now, gentlemen, is to try and take our bearings right, rub the wet dust out of all our eyes, and make a fresh start."

"The wet dust, Joe!" cried Rodd, with the nearest approach to a smile which had appeared upon his face for many days. "Here, uncle, get out the compass, and let's see what we can do with that."

"No," said the doctor quietly. "We must make a fresh start, but it must be calmly and well, and after food and a good night's rest. Collect wood, my lads, to make a fire. Boys, take your guns and go up-stream a little higher where we have never been before, and shoot what birds you can. Two or three of you men do what you can from the shore with the fishing-lines. To-morrow morning we will start calmly and trustingly to the river once again. Be of good heart, Morny, my lad, for the end of our awful struggle must be coming near, and every one of us must do all he can to help his brother for the one great end."

A cheer rose at the doctor's words, and the change in the whole party was wonderful.

All worked with such energy that long before darkness set in the tent was rigged up for the night, a good meal had been prepared, and almost as full of hope as on the night when they had last encamped there for their rest, a couple of hours were pleasantly passed before the fire was once more made up and the watch set. Very soon afterwards all were plunged in a deep and restful sleep, one from which Rodd and Morny were startled by a terrific clap of thunder. Then the interior of their tent was lit up by a vivid blue flash of lightning, by which they saw the watch—Joe Cross and one of the sailors leaning over them, the former saying—

"There's going to be an awful—"

"Storm," he would have said, but his words were drowned by another crash which came instantly upon a sheet of lightning, and pretty well stunned them with its roar.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

STORM WATERS.

In the intervals between the almost incessant peals of thunder Joe Cross informed the lads that the storm had been coming on for the last three hours, faint and distant at first, the merest mutterings, and gradually increasing till it was the terrific tempest now raging.

"They must have had it horrid, sir, somewhere, only I don't suppose there's no people. What we had before was nothing to it."

"There," cried the doctor, "something must be done to the boat in the way of making it thoroughly secure."

"Can't be no securer, sir. We've got her moored head and stern to a tree, and two grapnels down as well."

"Capital," cried the doctor. "Well thought of! But we must have the sail and some of the canvas that we have got here spread over the boat to keep the water out."

"That's done, sir, as far as the stuff would go, and now I want what we have got up here, before the rain comes."

"Down with it at once," said the doctor; and in an incredibly short space of time the tent was struck, what they had ashore was transferred to the boat, and she was covered in as much as was possible.

And none too soon, for the party had only just embarked when a few heavy drops of rain came pattering down upon the tightened canvas, soon increasing to quite a deluge, but, with the peculiarity of a tropic storm, just when it was beginning to try the canvas and threatening to soak the interior of the boat, it ceased almost instantaneously, and they sat listening to the rushing sound of the rain as it swept over the forest, rapidly growing more distant till it died away.

"Gone!" cried Rodd excitedly. "We didn't want any more troubles, and it would have been dreadful to have been wet through again."

"Don't be too hopeful, my boy," said Uncle Paul. "That may only be the advance guard of a far worse storm. It seems too much to think this is the end."

"It might be all, sir," said Joe Cross, "for it's been an awful bad 'un, going on for hours in the distance."

"Then we shall be having the water rise again," cried Uncle Paul.

"Yes, sir; that's what I thought," replied the man, "and why I moored the boat so fast."

"Quite right," cried the doctor, "for likely enough we shall be having the water coming down from far away, and we must hold on here at any cost, or we shall be lost again."

"What time do you suppose it is, Joe?" asked Rodd.

"Wants about a couple of hours to daylight, sir."

"Morning!" cried the lads together. "Ah, then it will be easier to bear!"

During the rest of the darkness it was evident that the storm had passed over them. There were a few distant mutterings of thunder and little flickerings of lightning which grew fainter and fainter, to die away in the west.

The sailors crept out from beneath their awning on to the sand, and were able to announce that the river had only risen a few inches, and the rain that had fallen had rapidly soaked in and drained off, while a pleasant cool air swept briskly over them from the east, heralding a fresh bright dawn, which came at last with all the promise of a glorious day.

With some difficulty a fire was started, but once begun the men soon contrived to get up sufficient for the hurried breakfast; the canvas was struck where necessary, and the rest spread to dry in the coming sunshine; and then all being ready for their next start, the doctor consulted with the coxswain, who after a little pressing gave his opinion as to what would be the best course to take.

"You see, sir," he said, "I have been thinking that I could get us back to our last camping-place; I mean, before we came here."

"Well, that's what we all thought before, Joe," cried Rodd pettishly.

"Wait, Rodney, my boy, and let Cross finish," said the doctor.

"I've about done, sir," said the man. "What Mr Rodd says is quite true, but he aren't quite got what I mean. You see, sir, when we come up here with the Spanish skipper aboard I sat astarn steering, and when we went away again I had hold of the tiller once more, same as before."

"Well, we know that," said Rodd shortly. "Be silent, Rodney!" cried the doctor. "Go on, Cross."

"Well, sir, when we come I was looking this 'ere way; when we started back I was looking t'other way. Now it seems to me, now we are going to start again, if instead of sitting astarn and looking straight forward, if I was to go and sit right in the bows and left somebody else to steer while I looked over his head, I should be looking up both sides of the river just as it was when we were coming, and I should see the landmarks again as I saw them when we were coming here, and consekently I should know my way better, and I don't think I should miss the next landing-place again."

"Yes, I see what you mean," cried Rodd excitedly. "Why, to be sure, Joe! Don't you see, uncle?"

"Yes," cried the doctor. "Quite right, Cross. We will start at once, going as slowly as we can, and we will, all but the steersman, ride backwards, keep a sharp look-out, and help.—What's the matter, Morny?"

For the young Frenchman had suddenly started up in the boat, to stand peering in the direction that they were about to take, and held up his hand as if to command silence.

"What's that?" cried Rodd, leaping up too.

"What?" asked the doctor.

"Sounds like distant roaring of some kind of wild beast, sir," said one of the men.

"That it aren't, messmate," said Joe, who had also risen to his feet, and stood with his hand behind his ear. "It's another storm coming. Nay, it aren't. It's all bright and clear that way. Why, it's water, gentlemen, coming with a rush from just the way we want to go."

"Impossible!" cried the doctor. "Why, it would be against the stream."

"I don't care, sir, begging your pardon. I've been in the Trent and the Severn and the Wye. It was only when I was a boy, but I recollect right enough. It's what they used to call a bore, with a great wave of water coming up the river like a flood and washing all before it."

"Had we better land?" cried the doctor.

"And lose our boat, sir? No. Be smart, my lads. It can't be very far away. All eight of you, oars out, and we must keep our head to it so as we can ride over the big wave and let it pass under us. I don't suppose there will be much of it. It's a sort of flood water coming down from yonder after the storm, and it will soon be over. Don't you worry about it, gentlemen. It will be nothing to a big wave at sea."

The men made ready with all the discipline of a trained crew, and heads were turned in the direction of the increasing sound, while it seemed hard to believe, in the midst of the brilliant sunshine, with the smooth river gliding onwards as if to meet the supposed wave, that there could be anything wrong.

The expected danger had seemed to be close at hand, but it had been far more distant than the party had supposed, for the roar went on steadily increasing, but with no other suggestion of peril save the noise, though that was enough to make the stoutest-hearted there quail.

It seemed an age, but was certainly less than an hour, before the dull heavy roar began to be mingled with a strange crashing and breaking sound which puzzled all, till the coxswain, who was standing up in the bows, boat-hook in hand, announced that it was the breaking of trees and crashing together of their branches as they were being torn up by the roots.

"Impossible!" said the doctor impatiently.

"Nay, sir, it aren't," said the man. "I don't mean the big trees, but the little 'uns along the banks; and it's getting close here, sir. It's a big flood, that's what it is, coming down from the mountains, for there must be some inland. There! Look yonder. Can't you see the trees beginning to wave? It's just as if a lake had broke loose and was coming sweeping over the country. You, Harry Briggs, hold fast to that tiller. You others, look at your work, and pull. Turn your heads, you lubbers! I'll do all the looking out. And when I say row, every mother's son of you pull for his life."

Joe Cross's words were beginning to sound indistinct before he had finished, half-smothered as they were by the increasing roar, as from far down the river a dark line of something could be seen rising some six or eight feet like a huge bank extending right across the river and apparently into the forest on both sides.

For as far as eye could reach the trees seemed to be in a strange state of agitation, the lower branches bending towards the party in the boat, as if beneath the blast of a tremendous gale.

"Sit fast, boys, every one!" yelled Joe; but he stood upright himself, and the next minute with a wild rush a great bank of water was upon them, seeming to come with a leap and dash, to plunge beneath the boat's bows as if to toss her on high and roll her over and over in the flood. But as it struck them the trained men sat for a moment or two, till in little more than a whisper above the roar of water, Joe Cross's voice was heard to give the order "Pull," when seven balanced oars dipped together, and the bows began to sink.

The men got well hold of the water, and after three or four rapid tugs the boat sat level once more upon the surface of the flood, obeyed her helm, and though being carried rapidly along stern on, she shipped very little water, and in a very few minutes the greater peril was passed.

The crashing roar and rush of the water was almost deafening, but Joe retained his upright position and signalled with one hand to the steersman, while he followed suit to the rowers, who kept up a steady pull against the furious stream, with the result that now the boat sped on stern foremost at the same rate as the flood.

But the frail craft was exposed to endless risks as the water rushed along between the two great walls of verdure which marked out the devious winding course of the river. Time after time they were within an ace of being swept amidst the boughs of some towering tree; at others they were brushing over the tops of the shrub-like growth; and yet amidst the many dangers the crew never flinched, but kept on for hour after hour, head to stream, with the boat always being borne onward along straight reaches and round winding curves which looped and almost doubled back, till at last the violence of the flood grew less, leaving them more and more behind, till the greatest danger was over and the speed at which they glided was reduced to nearly half that of the first rush of the flood.

Another hour passed, and they were still gliding on, and now as they were swept into a wider reach, it was plain to see how the whole forest was flooded on either side, apparently to the depth of some six or eight feet, as near as the coxswain could judge.

Four times over he had drawn attention to the fact that they were passing the entrances to similar rivers to that down which they sped, one of them being remarkable for the fact that a portion of their stream set right into it, while from the others it glided out in the opposite way. Soon afterwards, with a little clever scheming, the boat was guided into an eddy where the water swirled round comparatively slack; and here her head was turned and she resumed her strange journey onward in the normal way.

The men's labour too now had pretty well ceased, only a dip or two of the oars being required occasionally to keep the boat's head straight and make her answer her helm.