"Well, my lad, we are in Venezuela at last."
"But how different is our coming from what we had expected."
CHAPTER VIII.
JAGUAR CLAWS.
Jack Greenland made no reply to the remark of Ronie. In fact, there did not seem anything for him to say by way of answer. They saw that the country which lay back of them appeared barren and desolate. A few sickly shrubs pushed their crabbed heads above the sand dunes, but as far as they could see in the night the country was nearly level, and nothing more inviting than a sandy plain. The only cheerful sight that greeted their gaze was the crimson streak marking the eastern horizon, and which announced the breaking of a new day.
"I would give a good deal to know where Harrie is at this moment," said Ronie.
"We can only hope that he is able to look after himself," replied Jack. "And we can only make the most of our situation. As for me, I feel better on this sand bar than I have felt on board such ships as we have known since leaving Colon."
"If this is a sample of Venezuela," said Ronie, "I am heartily sick of it already."
"It is not. From what Captain Hawkins said, I judge we are on or near the shore, where the narrow tongue of water connects Lake Maracaibo with the sea. If this is the case we are twenty miles from the city. The lake is about one hundred and twenty miles long and ninety miles wide."