“And to-morrow, what shall we do then?” inquired Arend. “There may be no better chance of getting off than there is now.”
“That is true,” said Willem. “We must think of some way of getting out of this disagreeable prison. Can any of you think of a plan?”
“I have a proposal to make,” said Hendrik. “Let one of us take to the water and look down stream for a landing-place. If he succeeds in reaching the bank in safety, he could come up again, and by swinging out one of those long climbing plants we see hanging to the trees, there would be some chance of the other two catching it. By that means we may get off.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” rejoined Arend; “but which of us is to run the risk of the swim. For my part, I’m quite willing to incur it.”
“There is certainly great danger,” said Hendrik; “but there is also danger of starvation if we stay here.”
“Quite true,” rejoined Arend. “But for my part, I would rather feed a crocodile than die of hunger myself. So I’m willing to risk the swim. If you don’t see me on the bank in three or four hours you may conclude that either the crocodiles have eaten me, or that I’ve been shattered among the rocks.”
The others would not listen to Arend’s self-sacrificing proposal; and for a time, it was debated among them, as to who should run the risk, each protesting what under other circumstances he would scarce have done,—that he was a better swimmer than either of the other two.
As each insisted on taking the peril upon himself,—and none of them would yield the point, a proposal was made to cast lots.
This was done; and Hendrik, the suggester of the plan, was the one chosen by fate to carry it into execution.
“I am glad of it,” said he, after the thing had been decided. “It is but just that I should be permitted to carry out my own proposal. So here goes!”