For two or three miles farther Tirzal kept the river channel. Finally they came close to a spot where a deep, narrow stream entered the Izaral on the right. Tirzal turned into this branch and, after ascending it for some fifty yards, had the propeller slowed until it just counteracted the current and held the Grampus stationary.
"We got to de place, boss," said Tirzal, lifting himself erect with a deep breath of relief. "Now we come to de top an' tie de boat to a couple ob trees on de sho'."
"Where are the revolutionists?" asked Matt.
"Dey a good ways off, boss. We hab to take to de bank an' go find um. I know de way. Here's where de boats come. You see um pitpan close by de bank? Him rebel's boat."
"Do you suppose," queried Matt, turning to the consul, "that the schooner sent word to the rebels by means of the pitpan?"
Jordan shook his head perplexedly.
"They wouldn't do that. The pitpan is no more than a mahogany log, hollowed out, and would be a poor sort of craft to row against the current of the Izaral while it's at the flood. I can't understand why we don't see or hear something connected with the schooner. Perhaps," and the consul's face brightened, "Fingal and Cassidy are on the wrong track, after all."
"You go to de top, boss," put in Tirzal, "an' me swim asho' wid rope; den we warp um boat close to de bank."
As a preparation for his swim, the half-breed began to divest himself of his clothes.
Matt gave the order to empty the ballast tanks by compressed air, and the Grampus arose to the surface to the tune of water splashing from the tanks.