“Do you think it was fifty feet long?” cried Brace, laughing.
“Well, yes, and I call that a pretty modest estimate, when we might easily have made it a hundred feet.”
Dan opened his mouth, showed his teeth, and laughed with a sound like a watchman’s rattle that had lain in the water.
Chapter Eighteen.
The Brig Jibs.
Another fortnight’s sailing brought the travellers abreast of a river which flowed slowly and sluggishly into the stream they had ascended, just when its waters had begun to grow clearer and more shallow. It had become more rapid too in its course, and everything suggested that they were gradually gaining higher ground. In addition, in spite of the favourable breezes they enjoyed, the brig could now hardly stem the current.
The consequence was that at the captain’s suggestion the more sluggish waters of the confluent river were entered, and the fresh course slowly pursued ever northward and westward for weeks, till it became plain that much further progress could not be made in the brig itself.
The banks had closed in so that every night the vessel could have been moored to some large tree; but one night’s experience of this proved to be sufficient for the travellers, too many of the occupants of the forest giant finding their way on board and interfering with their comfort, and as the vessel swung in the stream boughs of neighbouring trees entangled themselves with the rigging.