The afternoon was rapidly wearing away, and before long it would be night.
At last Mr. Holton called to the crew to stop the boats.
“It’s unsafe to paddle farther,” he said. “Suppose we turn up into that little bay over there.”
The suggestion was carried out. Then they made camp.
“Hope nothing happens tonight,” said Bob, as he prepared to turn in for the night.
“I’m with you there,” his chum returned. “Somehow I’ve had enough thrills for a while.”
But he had no way of knowing how soon action would present itself in a big way.
The next morning they were up early, preparing to resume the journey shortly after breakfast. The chief of the strange tribe told Professor Bigelow that they should reach his village late that day, if all turned out well.
“I’m not especially anxious to get back among those wild men,” Bob said aside to his chum. “But we must do all we can to help Professor Bigelow.”