The most urgent matter was now to find such a stream as would suit their purpose. Dick had several reasons for feeling sure that one existed in the neighbourhood. He knew that the little river, which fell into the Atlantic near the spot where the "Pilgrim" stranded, could not extend very far either to the north or east, because the horizon was bounded in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken for the Cordilleras. If the stream did not rise in those hills it must incline to the south, so that in either case Dick was convinced he could not be long in discovering it or one of its affluents. Another sign, which he recognized as hopeful, was that during the last few miles of the march the soil had become moist and level, whilst here and there the appearance of tiny rivulets indicated that an aqueous network existed in the subsoil. On the previous day, too, the caravan had skirted a rushing torrent, of which the waters were tinged with oxide of iron from its sloping banks.
Dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as this stream, which though not navigable itself would in all probability empty itself into some affluent of greater importance. The idea, which he imparted to Tom, met with the old negro's entire approval.
As the day dawned the sleepers, one by one, awoke. Mrs. Weldon laid little Jack in Nan's arms. The child was still dozing; the fever had abated, but he looked painfully white and exhausted after the attack.
"Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, after looking round her, "where is Mr. Harris? I cannot see him."
"Harris has left us," answered Dick very quietly.
"Do you mean that he has gone on ahead?"
"No, madam, I mean that he has left us, and gone away entirely: he is in league with Negoro."
"In league with Negoro!" cried Mrs. Weldon, "Ah, I have had a fancy lately that there has been something wrong: but why? what can be their motive?"
"Indeed I am unable to tell you," replied Dick; "I only
[Illustration: "Harris has left us"