They went on more slowly, guided only by the faint cuts at intervals on tree-trunks, all of which "bled," giving out a milky sap; and then again the sign failed. About them were the trees in endless columns, overhead was the roof of leaves, and on the ground was a tangle of undergrowth and decaying vegetation, that gave out a moist earthy smell, which set the lungs labouring for oxygen. The boys were uncomfortable. Their skins were clammy, their eyes were heavy, and their limbs languid. Mr. Hume was glad to sit down, and even Muata showed the effect of the muggy atmosphere in a dulling of his skin. The river-man, sullen and silent, was alone apparently unaffected; but they did not reckon him one of the party, for no one of them had broken through his apathy.
Muata began patiently to make casts in that labyrinth that seemed to hold no living thing but themselves, and as he went slowly through the undergrowth, the boys went off to sleep, from which they awoke, heavy and unrefreshed, at the cry to "fall in."
The trail had been recovered fifty yards further on, the intervening ground having been covered apparently by the cannibals without leaving a sign. Venning blundered on a little way before he discovered that he had left his bundle behind.
"I'll wait for you," said Compton, sitting down on a tree-stump, while Mr. Hume, who had left his position in the rear to consult with Muata, had his back turned.
Venning recovered his bundle, and turned to retrace his steps, but for the time his heavy eyes were no longer faithful guides, and, instead of taking the right direction, he entered a likely looking opening through the trees to the left and hurried on. When he had covered a distance that should have brought him to Compton, he stopped.
"Halloa! halloa!" he cried.
There was no answer.
"Compton! I say, no larks. Where are you?"
A little in advance he heard the rustle of leaves, and went on quickly. When he reached the place where the sound came from there was nothing there, and he gathered his wits together. With a little laugh at his carelessness, he began to retrace his steps, but there was a problem to be dealt with at every step, for he could see nothing familiar. In that multitude of trees, planted so close together, each tree seemed alike. He put his hand to his mouth and uttered a long "coo-ee." The call seemed to be shut in, sounding in his ears very weak and quavering.
"Coo-ee!"—and again "coo-ee!" Ah, that was an answer; and with a glad shout he set off in the direction whence came an answer to his call, forced his way through the undergrowth, tripped and fell over a dead branch with a thud that made his head throb so that he was glad to sit back with closed eyes.