“Now we can see what we’re about, Mas’r Harry,” said Tom cheerfully.  “Look, there’s the first peep of where the sun’s coming, and if we’d been boxing the compass all night we couldn’t have been trundling more south-easter than we are.  Hooroar, Miss Lilla, keep up your sperrits, and we shall soon be all right.”

Lilla smiled a response, and, cheered by the bright day, we made good progress during the next two hours before the mules began to flag, when, letting them graze, we made a short and hasty meal ourselves, each eye scanning the forest round for enemies, such as we knew might spring up at any moment.

An hour’s rest taken of necessity, and then we were once more journeying on, hopeful that we might soon strike upon one of the tributaries of the great stream fed by the eternal snow of the mountains; but hours went by, and no sign of river appeared, till suddenly, Tom, who was in advance, said softly: 

“Here’s water somewhere, not far off, Mas’r Landell, for my mule’s cocking his nose up, and sniffing at a fine rate.”

There was no doubt of its being the case, for no sooner had Tom’s beast given evidence of its power of scent, than similar manifestations followed from the others; and now, instead of nagging and labouring along, the hot and wearied beasts broke into a trot, and had to be restrained as they tugged at the bridles.

The character of the undergrowth now, too, began to indicate moisture, and that floods sometimes swept along the low flat jungle, where we with some difficulty forced our way; and at last, almost overcome by the heat and excitement, we came suddenly upon one of the broad sluggish streams that intersect the vast forest lands, and go to form the vast water system of the Orinoco.  The stream, in spite of its sombre current and the desolation of its muddy banks, whispered to us hope and escape from the pursuit that might be now even pressing upon our heels.

My uncle and I hurried forward to scan the bank, ready to shoot at any noxious reptile that might show fight.  But we were not called upon to fire; for though a couple of large crocodiles scuttled off into the water, and once or twice there was a sharp rustling amongst the reeds, we were unmolested; and bringing forward our weaker companions, we made a temporary halt.

Now it is quite possible that, had I been a naturalist, I might have called the horrible reptiles that abounded in these muddy streams by some other name than crocodile; but even now, after consulting various authorities, I am not quite satisfied as to the proper term.  The English of the district always called them crocodiles, and to me they certainly seemed to differ from the alligator or cayman, whose acquaintance I afterwards made amongst the lagoons of the Southern United States.

But to return to our position on the river bank.

We knew that there was no time to be lost; and having cut a few stout bamboos, we inflated the four skins we had, but not without some difficulty, as they required soaking, and the tying up of one or two failing places.

Our little raft was at length made, and, provided with a couple of poles, afforded easy means of escape for three ­at a pinch for four.

And now came the arrangements for the gold.

It seemed cruel, but, situated as we were, what else could we do?  I did not like the plan, but could see no alternative; so with Tom’s aid the mules were unloaded, and we led the poor brutes into the leafy screen, so that Lilla and her mother might not be witnesses of how they were to be offered up for our safety.

For our plan was this ­to slay the poor beasts, and with their inflated skins to try and make a raft that should bear Tom, myself, and the gold.

My heart failed me as the faithful brutes, that had brought us thus far, turned their great soft eyes up to mine, and for a few minutes I hesitated, trying to think out some other plan for our escape, when a warning cry from my uncle brought Tom and myself back to the river bank, where we could see, half a mile higher up the stream, a couple of canoes, each containing two Indians, who were lazily paddling down towards where we were.

At first we took them for enemies, and gave ourselves up for lost; and I was about to beg of my uncle to risk flight with Lilla and my aunt upon the little raft, while I and Tom covered their escape with our guns; but the distance being lessened each moment, we could make out that these men belonged to one of the inoffensive fishing tribes who lived upon the rivers and their banks; and a new thought struck me ­one which I directly communicated to my uncle.

“Keep strict guard,” I then said, “and mind this ­a loud whistle shall bring us directly back to your help.  Come, Tom ­bring your gun, man!”

The next minute Tom and I were upon the raft, dragging ourselves slowly upstream by means of the bushes that overhung the river, till we found that the Indians could see our coming, when we began to paddle the best way we could out towards the middle.

As I expected, the Indians first stopped, and then made as if to turn round and flee, raising their paddles for a fierce dash, when ­

“Now, Tom!” I exclaimed; and, standing up together, we presented our guns as if about to fire.

“Ah! they’re like the crows at home,” muttered Tom; “they know what a gun is.”

Tom was right; for the poor fellows uttered a wail of misery, held up their paddles, and then suffered their canoes to drift helplessly towards us.

“Quick, Tom!” I now exclaimed; “lay down your gun; and try and fight against this stream, or we shall lose them after all.”

Tom seized the bamboo pole, and by rapid beating of the water contrived to keep the raft stationary till the Indians were nearly abreast, when, pointing to the bank from which we had come, and still menacing them with my gun, I made the poor timid creatures slowly precede us, and tow us as well, to where my uncle was anxiously watching.

Upon landing, the poor fellows crouched before us, and laid their foreheads upon the muddy grass; when, after trying to reassure them, my uncle, who knew a little of their barbarous tongue, explained that we only wanted their canoes; when, overjoyed at escaping with their lives, the poor abject creatures eagerly forced the paddles into our hands.

“Tell them, Uncle, that we don’t want their fishing-gear,” I said; when there was a fresh demonstration of joy, and Tom threw out their rough lines and nets on to the grass.

“They may as well help us load, Mas’r Harry, mayn’t they?” said Tom ­a proposition I at once agreed to.

In a very short space of time the gold was all placed in one canoe while we tethered the other by a short rope to the raft:  this boat contained the provisions and ammunition, and in this Tom and I were to go, towing the gold canoe and the raft, upon which more convenient place my uncle, armed and watchful while we paddled, was to sit with Lilla and my aunt.

It was nearly dark when our arrangements were at an end; and thankful that, so far, we had been uninterrupted, I drew the raft close in, secured it to our canoe, and Tom took his place, paddle in hand.  My uncle made a couple of good easy seats for Lilla and my aunt, and then took his place beside them; and now nothing was wanted but for me to take a paddle beside Tom, when he exclaimed: 

“This here stuff makes the canoe all hang to the starn, Mas’r Harry.  Tell you what, I’ll go in that canoe for the present, and get the freight shifted, and then join you again.”

I nodded acquiescence, and then turned to the poor miserable creatures whom we seemed to be robbing, and who now stood, dejected of aspect, watching us.

“What shall I give them?” I thought.  “A gun ­a knife or two?  Pish! how absurd!  Here ­here!” I exclaimed, catching the two nearest savages by the hand and hastily drawing them into the brake, when the others followed.  “One apiece for you, my good fellows, and you gain by the exchange.”

They could not understand my word; but as I pointed to the animals tethered in the gloom, and then placed the bridle of a mule in each of the four men’s hands, their joy seemed unbounded, and, with a nod and a smile, I was turning to depart, eager to continue our flight, when a wild cry from the raft seemed to fix me to the spot.