“What was it drew them under?” said Brace hoarsely.
“Can’t say, squire,” replied the captain. “Might be alligators, snakes, or a shoal of the savage fish that swarm along these rivers. Lesson to us not to try bathing.”
“Could nothing be done for them? Can we launch a boat?” faltered Brace.
The captain shook his head slowly, frowning the while.
“Impossible, my lad; but we don’t know that we’re safe here. There may be scores more in hiding under the trees by the bank yonder; so keep down, everyone.”
The order was obeyed, but no more arrows came on board, while from behind the deckhouse Brace stood with Briscoe watching the upturned canoe growing smaller and smaller in the distance, Brace expecting to see some daring swimmer appear from the shore, trying to get on board.
He said something of the kind to Lynton, who joined them just before the canoe disappeared round a curve of the river, but the latter smiled before he made a reply.
“You forget what sort of a shore it is,” he said. “Those fellows could not get along through that jungle a quarter so fast as the canoe drifted with the stream, if they could get along at all. Well, it’s been a bad time for them: they’ve lost their boat and two of their crew.”
“And serve ’em right,” said Dellow, who had overheard the conversation. “They should have left us alone. It isn’t their fault that Sir Humphrey isn’t lying below there dead and cold instead of getting better fast.”
“Ah! you have seen him, then?” cried Brace anxiously.