“The most thrilling adventure we’ve had since we started,” remarked Bob, rubbing his forehead.
“It was a terribly narrow escape,” affirmed Professor Bigelow, not bearing to think of the tragedy that was so closely averted.
“We owe our lives to you boys,” praised Mr. Lewis. “It was your thought and action that prevented the boat from being dashed to pieces. First Joe came across with a plan that kept us from striking the rocks. Then Bob swerved the boat around out of the whirlpool. If it hadn’t been for you——”
“Forget it!” Bob dismissed the subject as best he could, and then asked his friends’ opinion of where they now were.
“Probably halfway to the junction with the mainstream,” replied Mr. Holton. “That rapids carried us along at a terrific speed.”
His opinion proved correct, for they reached the Tapauá early the next morning and turned the boats to retrace the distance covered the day before.
“Might as well consider that much time wasted,” said Joe. “For about a day the journey will be a repetition of what it was two days ago.”
They did not mind the delay, however. That is, all but Professor Bigelow, who was anxious to find the strange tribe that Otari had spoken about. Every mile that went behind them lagged, to him, till it seemed that he was almost in a nightmare. Even after they had made up for the lost time and were paddling several score miles farther upstream, he was irritated. It was clearly evident that his impatient scientific enthusiasm was getting the better of him.
As they traveled on, his anxiety increased rather than lessened, for they were getting nearer the region occupied by the savages.
“The old boy’s so excited he can hardly wait,” smiled Joe, aside to his chum.