But that was not Brazier’s view of the question. “The river is flooded here and overrunning the bank,” he cried. “Hi! Naylor! Do you see where you’re going?”
“Right, sir. Sit down.”
But Brazier, who had risen, did not sit down, for he was quite startled, expecting that the next moment the boat would be capsized, and that they would all be left to the mercy of the reptiles and fish which haunted the rapid waters.
“Hi!” he shouted again. “Naylor, are you mad?”
“No, sir, not yet,” was the reply. “Better sit down. Mind your hat!”
For all through this the boat was gliding slowly but straight for the curtain of leaves and flowers which hid the bank of the western side of the river; and as the position seemed perilous to Rob, he saw with astonishment that the four Indian boatmen lay calmly back furling up the sail as if nothing was the matter, or else showing that they had perfect faith in their leader and steersman, who was not likely to lead them into danger.
What followed only took moments. They were out in the dazzling sunshine, were rapidly, as it seemed, approaching the bank, and directly after plunged right into the lovely curtain of leaves and flowers which swept over them as they glided on over the surface of the swiftly running clear black water, the sun entirely screened and all around them a delicious twilight, with densely planted, tall, columnar trees apparently rising out of the flood on either hand, while a rush and splash here and there told that they were disturbing some of the dwellers in these shades.
“What does this mean?” said Brazier, stooping to recover his hat which had been swept off on to the canvas awning, and which he only just recovered before it slipped into the stream.
There was no answer to the question as they watched, and then they saw light before them, which rapidly brightened till they glided into sunshine and found that they had passed through a second curtain of leaves, and were in a little river of some hundred yards wide, with lovely verdure on either side rising like some gigantic hedge to shut them in; in fact, a miniature reproduction of the grand stream they had so lately left.
“Why, Naylor,” cried Brazier, “I thought you were going to run us ashore or capsize us.”