Brace felt a shudder run through him as he glanced down over the side, where the water glided deep and dark now from where they were sailing to the tree-clothed shore.
But the conversation took another turn then, the captain proposing that a good midday meal should be eaten now, and no halt made till a suitable well-screened resting-place was reached about an hour before dusk.
“Why not keep right on till it is quite dusk?” said Sir Humphrey.
“He means so that we can land and light our fire in the forest, do our cooking, and put it out again before it’s dark, when it would show our position to any prowling natives,” said Briscoe.
“That’s right,” said the captain.
These tactics were carried out, a strong wind wafting the boats along mile after mile to a far greater distance than any amount of paddling would bring canoes in pursuit; and fortune favoured them far more, for, just about the time decided upon, the fine river up which they had come suddenly opened out fan-like, offering them five different routes onward.
“Which shall it be, Brace?” said Sir Humphrey, as he stood up with his brother in the bows. “If the enemy is following us he is as likely to take one as the other.”
“I don’t know,” said Brace, with a laugh. “They are all beautiful. That left one seems the deepest, and the stream flows slowly, so I think we had better choose that.”
“Best too for the wind,” said Briscoe. “There’s a ripple up it as far as we can see.”
“It’s to the left and not to the right,” said Brace.