"Is there none left at the camp?"
"Not a cupful. I brought away the last cans before I went down to Bolivar."
"This is a real fix. That Espejo fellow will begin to search the river when he finds we don't pass; he can easily get canoes from some of the natives down the Orinoco. He's bound to find us if we're still on the river, and then with only two revolvers and a couple of knives between us we shall be at his mercy. Seems to me, as soon as I've patched up the hole, we'd better pole up the river and go straight on instead of turning up the stream towards the hacienda. They might not look for us there."
"There seems nothing else. But it'll take a week to get so far. We've got the current against us, and with our load we should do about one mile an hour. Besides, what's to happen then? They can search for us and keep a watch on the river for any length of time, and our food won't last more than two days on the shortest commons, and precious stale it will be, too."
"The only other plan would be to march along this left bank till we come to a village, and then promise the natives a reward to guide us to Bolivar."
"And let Espejo collar my hydroplane! Not if I can help it. Besides, we've got to rescue the Chief."
"Well, you can think it over while I am stopping the leak."
There were a few simple tools on board, and Ruggles, not belying his reputation as handy man, succeeded after an hour's work in making what he called a good temporary job of it. Will watched him for a time; then, seeing from the General's look that he had taken the full measure of the situation, and expected to be rescued by his lieutenant before long, he said to himself fiercely that he would not be bested, and walked away to think quietly how the disaster might be retrieved.
The want of petrol was the only difficulty. When Ruggles had finished his task the hydroplane would be quite capable of continuing the voyage if fuel could be got. He would, of course, not again attempt to proceed by night; and by day Azito could be trusted to avoid snags. But petrol he had none, nor could he get any; and without it he saw no possible way of working the engine. Was there a substitute?
Suddenly he remembered that the Indians were accustomed to use for their torches a resinous liquid made from a kind of pine-tree that grew in certain districts. Would not such a wood-spirit be quite as good for his purpose as petrol? Full of the idea, he hastened back to consult Ruggles. Ruggles shook his head.