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.”
“If we could shoot any game——” began Melton, but Guy interrupted him.
“The fighting has scared everything away from the vicinity,” he remarked.
“Yes, that is true,” said the Greek. “The animals have fled to the mountains, and, besides, Oko Sam and his tribe of Gallas keep the game well thinned out.”
“What did you say?” cried Guy, springing to his feet in excitement. “Is this Oko Sam’s village yonder that the Abyssinians have raided?”
The Greek nodded assent.
“Yes, Oko Sam is the chief.”