“I see no sign of it,” said Sir Humphrey. “Oh, yes, I do. Look, Brace: the water is nothing like so clear.”
“That’s right, sir,” said the captain. “These rivers alter a deal sometimes in twenty-four hours. Have we got everything on board?”
“Ay, ay, sir,” cried Lynton.
“Except the rest of the crew, captain,” said Sir Humphrey.
“Oh, yes, of course, sir; but we shall ride lighter without them.”
“You never mean to leave them to starve in this wilderness, captain?”
“Aren’t this a matter of navigation, Sir Humphrey?” asked the captain sternly, but with a twinkle in the eye.
“Certainly not,” said Sir Humphrey. “It is a question of common humanity.”
“About six common men, sir,” said the captain. “Well, we shall see. Anyhow, I’m going on up the river to give them a lesson; and if we come back and find them all reduced to skins and skeletons down upon their marrow-bones asking to be took aboard, why, then, perhaps, we shall see, and—what in the name of wonder’s up now?”
For all at once, as the boats pushed off and the sail of the foremost was being hoisted, the six men reappeared from where they had hidden in the woods and came running towards them, shouting and making signs.