“Not eggs-actly,” put in Biff, with a smile, “but if we’d looked much longer at those cayman eggs, they would have hatched.”
Mr. Brewster smiled at the jokes, then became serious.
“You must learn what it means to gauge speed in terms of distance,” he declared. “When we reach the rapids where the Ventuari flows into the Orinoco, you boys can take the boat down through.”
When they reached the rapids, Mr. Brewster gave the helm to Biff, then told Kamuka to mind the bow and watch for rocks. Mr. Brewster went into the thatched cabin, but from there, he kept a sharp lookout in case the boys ran into trouble.
Biff realized that his dad was standing by in case of emergency, but unless something of the sort developed, Biff knew he would be on his own. What a thrill it was!
Kamuka watched like a cat, to copy any move made by Jacome and the stolid natives who were warding off rocks from the bows of the other boats. Biff kept an eager eye on Whitman, Joe Nara, and the Wai Wai who was piloting the kitchen barge. When Biff saw that they were watching the man in the bow, he did the same.
Time and again, Kamuka would raise his paddle to jab at a threatening rock. Always, Biff handled the helm accordingly. Kamuka nodded his head admiringly. He was crediting Biff with being a wonderful pilot, never realizing that he was furnishing the tip-off that enabled his friend to demonstrate such skill.
Twice, though, it was Kamuka’s quick work with the paddle that staved off a crash on the rocks before Biff could bring the helm about. When at last they were drifting in the calm water below the rapids, Biff sprang forward over the thatched cabin and grabbed Kamuka’s hand, exclaiming:
“Great work, Kamuka! We make a perfect team!”
Kamuka smiled solemnly as he repeated: