"It will do for firewood," said Guy. "We won't have to travel in the dark any more."
"Yes, yes; build a fire," said Sir Arthur feebly, sitting up among the rugs. "I'm cold, Chutney; icy cold. Have we come to the end of the cavern yet?"
"He seems a little better," whispered the colonel, coming close up to Guy. "Do you know, Chutney, I've been thinking for the last hour that we must surely be near the end of the river. Since first we entered this cavern we have traveled eight hundred miles. Calculate the rate of speed at which the current flows, and you must see that I am right. Moreover, we cannot be very far beneath the surface of the earth. Those lions do not dwell in the cavern. They only came down for water."
"I believe you are right," said Guy. "Two more days will tell. If we don't reach the open air in that time—well, it won't matter after that whether we reach it or not. I can hardly stand on my feet, and as for the torments of hunger, I need not speak of that. You know them yourself."
"Yes, I do indeed know what it is," said the colonel bitterly, "but we must endure it a while longer. For myself I do not care so much, but Sir Arthur is in a bad way, and as for Bildad, we may have to bind him hand and foot. He sleeps now, but no one can tell what he may do when he awakes."
"We will watch him closely," said Guy. "Canaris is splitting up the canoe for firewood, and it will no longer be necessary to travel in darkness."
"See!" cried the Greek, pausing with uplifted axe. "The shores have disappeared. Has the river become wide or is this another lake?"
"There is still a strong current," said Guy. "The channel has suddenly become broad. That is all."
A cheerful fire was soon blazing, and the ruddy reflection stained the water far and near, as the raft drifted on with the current. Sir Arthur fell asleep again, and Bildad lay among the rugs as one dead, glutted with his savage feast, and his lips and hands still red with clotted blood.