Very easily and gently the four craft were brought into the tributary, their painters being made fast to the trees which came close to the bank. Then the party landed and looked about them.
“Zis is hod, mein friends,” grunted the Dutchman, as he stood panting in his shirt sleeves. “I do nod wish for zis walk in ze foresd.”
“While I shall be glad to get it over,” said Mr Pepson, with emphasis, casting an eye overhead as he did so. “I tell you we are in for a storm, and that is hardly a pleasant prospect in such a place.”
Dick wondered why, for the mass of the forest which hemmed them in on every side seemed ample to protect them from any harm which might come from a storm. But no doubt his leader had had experience and knew, and at his words he slung his rifle, took a bag of cartridges, and prepared to march. Johnnie, too, leapt to the shore, for there was no longer any need to leave a guard, and within a few minutes the party was en route for the gold-mine.
Almost for the first time in his experience, Dick marched by a forest road, a track cut through the heart of the jungle, and he began to realise what were the difficulties of transport in this remarkable country. For the path was barely wide enough to admit one single man, and the great girth of the Dutchman often brought him into difficulties. It bore signs of having been cut some weeks before, for the marks of knives and hatchets were often to be seen. But in spite of the care taken in clearing it, parts were already practically impassable; for vines and other creepers had grown across it. However, a few sweeps from Mr Pepson’s sword cut them clear, and the party were able to advance. They wound here and there, following the track, which deviated so as to avoid large trees and very thick brush. At times they sank to their knees in marsh land, while on several occasions they leaped or waded across streams quietly trickling through the jungle. It was all very new and very strange, and our hero could have enjoyed it more had it not been for the heat. It was intensely hot and muggy. Not a leaf stirred, and not a sound came to them save the creak of an occasional bough, and the crack of twigs which lay underfoot. Bird and beast life seemed to have departed. Mr Pepson shook his head and hurried on.
“Better reach the open as soon as we can,” he said. “This is no place for a man once the storm breaks. Listen! It is coming.”
The tops of the trees moved while the tangle of leaves rustled. Dick thought he heard an indefinite sound, a distant hum, gradually rising in intensity, but as yet it was so slight that he was uncertain. He halted as Mr Pepson turned round and mopped the perspiration from his face. Then, as he replaced his handkerchief, he looked at his chief and started back. For the leader of the expedition, usually so calm and self-possessed, looked as nearly terrified as Dick imagined it would be possible for him to be. He stared overhead, and stood there listening acutely.
“You hear it?” he asked anxiously. “You hear a moaning sound?”
“I fancy I did a minute or so ago, sir. Wait. Yes. There it is, without a doubt, and it is louder.”
“Id is ze wind, mine frien, I zink,” gasped Meinheer, seating himself on a fallen log.