“What speed are we makin’?” asked Captain Sprowl, who was leaning back in his cushioned seat smoking luxuriously like a magnate in his motor car.
“About twenty miles an hour,” was Jack’s reply after a glance at the speed-registering device, which formed one of numerous dials and instruments attached to the dash-board. As Tom had once remarked, the dash-board of the Wondership looked “like the bridge of a battleship,” what with its compasses, registers and meters of various kinds.
“That ought to bring us in sight of shore before very long,” commented the captain, “I’d like to land before dark. This coast ain’t very thickly inhabited, so far as I know, and them as do live there may not have a very hearty ‘welcome’ on their door mat for us.”
“We’ve got plenty of rifles and ammunition,” declared Tom boldly, “in case anyone attacks us.”
“A good way to keep out of trouble, son, is not to go lookin’ for it,” was the captain’s response, “and anyhow, what good ‘ud your rifles be in a thick forest of trees with some sort of a savage behind each of ‘em?”
Tom looked abashed and said nothing. But Dick struck in with a question.
“There are savages ashore, then?” he asked.
“Wa’al, I ain’t sayin’ no and I ain’t sayin’ yes,” said the captain evasively; “but Brazil is full of river Indians, and at certain times of the year they come down to the coast to get turtles’ eggs and fish and so forth; and I’ve got a notion in the back of my head that they ain’t just as gentle and refined as they ought to be, ‘specially where they see a chance to get a little loot.”
Nothing more was said for some time, and the Wondership forged smoothly and steadily ahead. Suddenly the captain, who had been looking over the side, drew their attention to the water.
“Look down there,” he said, “if you boys want to see a rare sight.”