"There goes that fellow," cried Guy. "He has escaped in a canoe," and hastening up along the shore, waving the lamp in front of him, he uttered a cry of astonishment that echoed through the cavern and brought his companions quickly to his side.
Drawn back a few yards from the water lay two long, heavy canoes, and a sharp furrow in the sand leading to the river's edge showed that a third canoe had recently stood beside the others. Half a dozen rude paddles were strewn on the sand. The savage had evidently been in such haste to escape that the thought of turning the other canoes adrift, and thus eluding pursuit, never entered his head.
Beyond the canoes, further progress was blocked by masses of earth.
"This was the abode of that strange race of natives," said Guy solemnly, "and under those stones they have lain buried since the earthquake years ago."
He turned and led the way down the stream.
Fifteen yards below lay another jutting mass of earth. This was the extent of the cavern, a beach fifty yards long running back to the narrow passage and terminated by walls of earth; beyond was darkness and the river, running none knew where.
Yet the only hope of seeing home and friends, vague and uncertain as it was, rested with this mysterious, cavernous stream. It might lead to the coast and safety, but far more likely death and destruction awaited anyone daring enough to trust himself to its treacherous current.
"The sea is hundreds of miles away," said Guy gloomily, as he sat down on the sand and placed the lamp carefully beside him. "How are we going to live through such a journey as that? Even now our last bit of food is gone, and where shall we get more?"
Canaris pondered a moment before he ventured to reply.
"I see but one plan," he said finally. "At nightfall we must visit the burned village. The enemy will have gone by then, and we may discover abandoned provisions."