“Yes,” said Sir Humphrey; “it must seem strange to you to sail on for hundreds of miles through wild land and find it quite in a state of nature. How much farther do you think we shall be able to sail up here?”
The captain did not answer immediately, but smiled in a curiously grim fashion. Then he said:
“If you’ll tell me how long these favourable winds will last, sir: how long we shall be without a storm in the mountains: and how long it will be before we encounter rocks and falls, perhaps I can answer you; but this is all as new to me as it is to you, and I cannot tell you anything about what’s going to happen to-morrow. But I suppose it don’t matter for a few weeks. You don’t want to do any boat work till you get better.”
“That’s true,” said Sir Humphrey; “and it is very pleasant sailing up between these wonderful banks of trees.”
“Yes, very pleasant, sir; but it makes my crew so idle that I’m afraid they won’t understand the meaning of the word work, much less be able to spell it when I want it done.”
“Never mind, captain,” said Brace. “Sail away: it’s all so gloriously new.”
So they sailed on and on through what seemed to be eternal summer.
Now and then a shot was obtained, and some beautiful bird was collected, or a loathsome reptile’s career was brought to an end, the monster sinking down in the muddy water.
On one occasion a great serpent was seen hanging in folds across the bough of a tree which dipped lower towards the river with its weight.
It was Brace’s charge of buckshot which tumbled it off with a tremendous splash into the river, where it writhed and lashed the water up into foam before making for the shore, swimming with ease, much to their surprise.