A glorious, a delicious morning, with the mists passing away in wisps of vapour before the bright sunshine, the leaves dripping with dew, and bird and insect life in full activity.
But it was everything for the eye and nothing for the inner man. Waking from a most restful sleep meant also the awakening to a sensation of ravenous hunger, and directly after to the terrible depression caused by the loss sustained on the previous day and their position—alone, and without the means of obtaining food.
When Rob started up he found Brazier in earnest conversation with Shaddy, and in a few minutes the boy learned that their guide had been about from the moment he could see to make up the fire, and then he had been searching in all directions for traces of their companions.
“And you feel sure that they have gone?” Brazier was saying when Rob joined them.
“Certain sure, sir.”
“But I still cling to the belief that we have blundered into the wrong place in our weariness and the darkness last night. Why, Naylor, there must be hundreds of similar spots to this along the banks of the river.”
“Might say thousands, sir; but you needn’t cling no more to no hopes, for this is the right spot, sure enough.”
“How do you know?” cried Rob.
“’Cause there’s the mark where the boat’s head touched ground, where we landed, and our footmarks in the mud.”
“And those of the men?” cried Brazier hastily.