“That distant forest sure looks mysterious,” remarked Joe, gazing ahead at the mass of towering trees. “How large is it?”
“A good many miles across,” Mr. Lewis answered. “In fact, several score. And all heavy, untrodden wilderness.”
“So much the better for us,” smiled Bob. “But say. How are we going to cross this wide stream? Must be nearly a quarter of a mile to the other side.”
“Hardly that,” laughed his father. “But to answer your question: if the water isn’t too deep, we’ll ford it; but if this isn’t possible, we’ll have to build rafts.”
Noko thought it advisable to cross before night and make camp on the other side.
The head native walked down to the bank and waded out into the water. Much as the explorers had expected, it was shallow, not reaching to the waist.
The whites donned their hip boots and, led by Noko, waded out into the stream. They were followed by the bearers and guards.
Although the water was sluggish and dirty, the going was good, and the adventurers reached the opposite bank in rapid time. There Bob and Joe and the naturalists removed their high boots and made ready to pitch the tents, as darkness was not far off.
“I can hardly wait to get into that Forest of Mystery,” said Joe, stopping for a moment to glance toward the west. “Something tells me we’ll see sights, all right.”