"Not much harm done," said Ruggles. "Lucky she slowed down when she did, or there'd have been a horrible mess."
"Thank goodness we've got through in time," said Will, mopping his steaming brow. "We can take it easy now, and get to Bolivar before it's dark."
[CHAPTER XVI--THE END OF A REVOLUTION]
The hydroplane was now on the broad bosom of the Orinoco, floating down with the tide. Will thought it time to stop for a meal.
"We'll run into the bank, and Azito can cook us some yuca," he said.
"A glass of beer, just one, would satisfy me," said Ruggles. "But, bless us! you've got blood on your cheek."
"So I have!" cried Will, brushing his hand over it. "Any one else hurt?"
There was no answer, but looking round, he noticed that Azito's right arm hung limp at his side. As soon as the vessel was beached, he examined the wound.
"You're a plucky fellow," he said. "Do you know that your arm's broken?"
"It's nothing, señor," replied the Indian simply.