“He’s anxious to test his wits against the cannibals,” returned Bob. “Wants to stay for dinner, maybe.”
They camped that night on a wide sand bank, at the base of a rocky knoll. After the evening meal, they sat in a group about the firelight, chatting merrily, despite the fact that they were near, or perhaps in, the cannibal country.
They turned in early, and the night passed without incident.
“Well,” smiled Mr. Holton the next morning as he went about preparing breakfast, “nothing happened to disturb our deep slumber.”
“Perhaps we are not quite near enough the dangerous territory,” replied Professor Bigelow. “But according to Otari, we shouldn’t have to travel much farther.”
That morning, for the first time, two of the crew began to show signs of uneasiness. It was Bob who first noticed them talking in muffled tones, and upon listening, he found that they did not like the idea of going into this unknown country that was the abode of wild savages. But as they appeared to come to no conclusion, Bob turned to help prepare the meal.
After breakfast they paddled on upstream in search of a suitable hunting area, for the naturalists wished to go ashore and add to their collection.
At every point of the compass the scenery was beautiful beyond description. There were steep, jagged cliffs, densely overgrown with the brilliant green of tropical vegetation; tall forest giants, towering a hundred feet into the sky; gorgeously colored flowers that sent their sweet fragrance far afield.
Mr. Holton broke the enchanted silence. “Here we are,” he said, singling out a stopping place.