That meager bag of crackers must feed six mouths until they reached the end of the cavern. That event might be in a week, and it might be in a month. The uncertainty and the suspense were terribly trying.
It was some consolation to discover that the river was still flowing very rapidly. The possibility of encountering more rapids they now dreaded but little, for it was very improbable that worse places could exist than that which the raft had navigated so stanchly.
"We must travel night and day," said Guy, "and in darkness. We have four torches left. Only when we hear the sound of rapids dare we light one of them."
He emphasized his words by putting out the torch that was burning, and instantly they were plunged in total darkness.
This marked the commencement of a period in which all trace of time was lost. Huddled together on the few remaining rugs, they drifted on and on with the current, alternately asleep and awake.
At certain intervals a torch was lit for a few moments while they ate the pitiful scraps of food that Guy distributed with rigorous impartiality.
The short periods of light were taken advantage of by the colonel to record in his diary the brief incidents of the journey.
A few extracts from it, made with his permission, will make sufficiently clear to the reader in what gloomy monotony that part of their cruise was spent which began with the departure from the lake and terminated abruptly in a misfortune remarkable for the utter despair that followed on its track:
First stage.—This is the second day since leaving the lake. We received three crackers apiece. Twice a torch was lit to aid us in passing rapids. They proved to be insignificant.
Second stage.—We slept by turns. Had three crackers apiece. All complain of hunger. Bildad clamors for food. Current still good. Plenty of small rapids.