It was a proof his conjecture was true, and that the mias had reached its home.
All the more anxious was Captain Redwood to reach the spot whence the sounds proceeded. Something like a presentiment had entered his mind that there was still a hope, and that his child lived and might be rescued.
Even if torn, injured, disfigured for life, she might survive. Any sort of life, so long as she could be recovered; and if she could not be restored, at least she might breathe her last breath in his arms. Even that would be easier to bear than the thought that she had gone to rest in the grasp of the hirsute gorilla, with its hideous offspring grinning and gibbering around her.
The lagoon could not be waded on foot; but a good swimmer might cross it. The captain was an experienced and accomplished swimmer. The voices came from no great distance—certainly not above half a mile. On one occasion he had accomplished a league in a rough sea! There could be no difficulty in doing as much on the smooth, tranquil water of that tree-shaded lake.
He had opened his arms and prepared to strike out, when a thought stayed him. Saloo, who had waded to his side, also arrested him by laying a hand on his shoulder.
“You try swimmee, cappen, no good without weapon; we both go togedder—muss take gun, sumpitan, kliss, else no chance killee mias.”
It was the thought that had occurred to Captain Redwood himself.
“Yes, you are right, Saloo. I must take my rifle, but how am I to keep it dry?—there’s not time to make a raft.”
“No raff need, cappen; givee me you gun—Saloo swim single-hand well as two; he cally the gun.”
Captain Redwood knew it to be true that Saloo, as he said, could swim with one hand as well as he himself with both.