The man paddled the boat slowly along, and it was not until several blind lead places, where the boat could be thrust in amongst the bamboos, had been explored, that a more satisfactory portion of the surrounding watery maze was found, in the shape of a narrow way opening into another lagoon which looked wonderfully attractive and proved to be more interesting from the fact that no less than six ways out were discovered.
“Try that one,” said Murray, and the boat’s nose was thrust in, when Tom May held up his hand.
“Well, what have you to say against it?” cried the middy.
“I only thought, sir, as we might be trying this here one twice if we didn’t mark it somehow.”
“To be sure,” cried Murray. “Don’t you pretend to be stupid again, Tom. Now, then, how are you going to mark it?”
“Only so how, sir,” said the man, with a grin; and as he stood up in the boat he bent down some of the over-arching graceful grasses and tied them together in a knot. “These here places are so all alike, sir, and it may save time.”
This waterway wound in and out and doubled upon itself for what must have been several hundred yards, but the middy felt encouraged, for more and more it struck him as being a way that was used. Every now and then too it excited the lad’s interest, for there was a rush or splash, and the water in front was stirred up and discoloured, evidently by a reptile or large fish; but whether those who used it had any connection with the missing man it was impossible to say.
“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised, sir, if we come upon that Mr Planter’s boat, sir, and his niggers. Looks the sort o’ spot where they might have built a boathouse to hide their craft in when they didn’t want it.”
“At all events, my lad, it is one of their places, and—”
“Well, I’m blest, sir!”