“Oh!” said the captain; “that’s right. Why, where are the boys gone?”
“Down to the river for a bathe, sir,” said German.
“What! Which way?” roared the captain.
“Straight down yonder, sir, by the low trees.”
“Quick, Jack, your gun!” cried the captain, running to the wagon, getting his, and then turning to run in the direction pointed out; his brother, who was accustomed to the captain’s quick military ways, and knowing that he would not give an order like that if there were not dire need, following him directly, armed with a double gun, and getting close up before he asked what was the matter.
“Matter?” panted the captain. “Cock your piece—both barrels—and be ready to fire when I do. The boys are gone down to the river.”
“What, are there really savages there?”
“Yes,” said the captain, hoarsely; “savages indeed. Heaven grant we may be there in time. They have gone to bathe, and the river swarms for a long way up with reptiles.”
Uncle Jack drew a deep breath as, with his gun at the trail, he trotted on beside his brother, both increasing their pace as they heard the sound of a splash and shouting.
“Faster!” roared the captain, and they ran on till they got out from among the trees on to a clearing, beautifully green now, but showing plain by several signs that it was sometimes covered by the glittering river which ran deep down now below its banks.