"Besides," Ernest continued, "I should like to take a few more bearings."
"And we should like to take a little nourishment," Jack exclaimed. "Let us have lunch! Of your pity, let us have lunch!"
It was agreed that they should spend the afternoon and evening in this loop of the Montrose. Then, at the next ebb tide, about one o'clock in the morning, when the night was clear—there would be a full moon—the pinnace would go down the river without the least risk. After leaving the creek she would either go to Unicorn Bay and anchor there, or would round Cape East and make Rock Castle, as the state of the sea and the direction of the wind might dictate.
As soon as the pinnace was made fast by her bows to the foot of a tree, her stern immediately swung round down stream, clear proof that the ebb tide was beginning to run.
After luncheon Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston, and Hannah agreed to settle themselves down in the encampment while the exploration of the surrounding country was effected. It really was important to make a more complete survey of this region. So it was arranged that M. Zermatt and Jack should go and hunt along the little tributary, remaining comparatively close to its mouth, and that Mr. Wolston and Ernest should take the canoe and go as far up the river as they could, to return in time for dinner.
The canoe, paddled by Mr. Wolston and Ernest, set off up river, while M. Zermatt and Jack went along the bank of the winding streamlet which ran down from the north.
Beyond this loop the Montrose bent towards the south-west. The canoe kept on its way along banks bordered by leafy forest trees and rendered almost inaccessible by tangled grasses and interlaced reeds. It would have been impossible to effect a landing there, and it was not necessary. The important thing was to ascertain the general direction of the river by ascending it as far as possible. Moreover, the field of vision was soon enlarged. A mile or so further up, the forest mass grew less dense. Further on again, broad plains succeeded, deformed with rocky excrescences, which appeared to reach unbroken right to the foot of the mountains.
The surface of the Montrose river shone like a mirror. There was good reason to regret leaving the shadow of the trees which bordered it lower down. Moreover, in the midst of a broiling atmosphere, where there was now scarcely a breath of air, paddling was really hard work. Fortunately, the force of the stream was not increased by the tide running down, for the flood did not reach beyond the last loop or elbow. They only had to contend with the normal flow of the river. The waters were low now. Matters would be different in a few weeks' time, during the rainy season, when the mountain range would send down its contribution through the natural issue of the Montrose.
In spite of the heat, Mr. Wolston and Ernest paddled along energetically. Among the fantastic bluffs of the river, behind the points, there were occasional backwaters which they chose to take, so as to economise their labour.
"It is not impossible," said Mr. Wolston, "that we might reach the foot of the range in which the Montrose must have its source."