“That baffles me,” admitted Mr. Thorne. “And the fact that the pistol is here adds to the mystery. If they started out to hunt, or went ashore for any purpose, it seems unreasonable to think they would not carry their weapons.”
“Well, we know it’s no use going on to Maipurisi and trying to find their plane,” declared Mr. Henderson. “It seems to me we’ve come to the end of the trail and might as well go back. Wherever the other villain is, it’s hopeless to try to locate him.”
“I’ll say it’s not!” contradicted Rawlins. “He’ll come back to his boat and we can lie low and nab him when he does.”
“Provided he lives and hasn’t seen us, perhaps,” said Mr. Pauling.
“Well, I’ve a hunch he’s not dead and he can’t go on, without a boat or grub,” argued the diver. “I vote we sneak in somewhere and hide and wait. If he don’t come back by dark we won’t be any worse off than we are now.”
“We might as well try that scheme,” agreed Mr. Thorne. “He may be off in the bush hunting for his comrade and if he hasn’t seen us, he’ll return in time as Mr. Rawlins says.”
“Very well,” assented Mr. Pauling. “I’ll try anything once and it’s one last chance.”
Accordingly, the explorer explained to Colcord what was wanted and the Boviander, after a few words with the Indians and peering about the shores of the river, swung the boat clear and, rounding the tiny rocky islet, headed for a dark and shadowy creek that emptied into the river several hundred yards upstream.
They had proceeded but a short distance when one of the Indians turned and said something to Colcord in the Akawoia tongue. Instantly, the Boviander sniffed the air and muttered a reply.
“What’s up, Colcord?” demanded Mr. Thorne.