"The most merciful thing we could do would be to cast our provisions into the lake," he said finally. "It would cut short the agony of waiting, but I don't suppose you would look at it in that way."
"No, no; don't do that," cried Chutney. "Who knows what may happen yet?"
"Ah! there you are again," said the colonel; "still clinging to hope of life; still unable to realize the truth. You are only making it so much the harder for yourself."
"But there is surely some outlet to this vast body of water?" said Melton.
"Yes," was the colonel's reply. "Undoubtedly, but it must be at the bottom of the lake; it certainly is not on the surface. Do you suppose those poor savages would have perished here if an outlet had existed? They, too, must have been carried by accident into the wrong channel, and no doubt they circumnavigated the lake, as we have done. Realizing that they were lost, they either slew themselves to end their sufferings or they fell victims to the serpents without much resistance."
While Melton and the colonel were carrying on this conversation, Guy rose and went down to the water, with the intention of gathering some food, for he, too, was hungry.
The canoe was pulled partly on shore, and as it leaked a little the water had all collected in the stern, where Sir Arthur still lay in merciful sleep, thus wetting the rugs.
Guy noticed this, and with a view to making the sleeper more comfortable, he slid the canoe down until it lay flat in the water. It still retained a slight hold of an inch or two on the sand.
A sudden cry from the Greek brought him back in a hurry to the top of the island.
His companions were staring out on the lake, and Canaris was pointing with a trembling hand at some unseen object.