"Right you are. But now and then they frequent the Gold Coast. I have heard them in Natal, and down about the diamond regions. Once you hear a wild lion roar, you never forget the sound."
As the sun mounted above the forest, the odorous mists that infest those regions were drawn upward, giving out as the air grew warm a sickening and malarious influence. Vast and gloomy cypress, bay, swamp palm, ironwood, and other tropical woods reared their columnar trunks, from out a dark and noisome undergrowth, to an immense height. In those leafy depths no sun ever shone, and the absence of bird life was noticeably depressing.
"I hardly wonder the captain wants to get away as soon as possible," remarked Duff, as they at last neared the narrow point where the river entered the little harbor. "A week in this place and half of us would be down with coast fever."
An exclamation from Ralph, who was in the bow, came next, as the yawl passed the last leafy point, and the surface of the anchorage became visible.
"What now?" demanded Duff.
CHAPTER XIX.
Left Behind.
No reply was necessary, for in another instant both the mate and the sailor comprehended the cause of Ralph's surprise and alarm.
The Wanderer was nowhere to be seen.