In spite of these halts, and the time taken for the night’s rest, the distance accomplished by the 8th could not be estimated at less than a hundred miles. The river, augmented by only a few insignificant tributaries, had not materially increased in volume; its direction, however, had slightly changed more to the northwest. It afforded a very fair supply of fish, which were caught by lines made of the long stems of creepers furnished with thorns instead of fishhooks, a considerable proportion being the delicate sandjikas, which when dried may be transported to any climate; besides these there were the black usakas, the wide-headed monndés, and occasionally the little dagalas, resembling Thames whitebait.
Next day, Dick met with an adventure that put all his courage and composure to the test. He had noticed the horns of a caama projecting above the brushwood, and went ashore alone with the intention of securing it. He succeeded in getting tolerably close to it and fired, but he was terribly startled when a formidable creature bounded along some thirty paces ahead, and took possession of the prey he had just wounded.
It was a majestic lion, at least five feet in height, of the kind called káramoo, in distinction to the maneless species known as the Nyassi-lion. Before Dick had time to reload, the huge brute had caught sight of him, and without relaxing its hold upon the writhing antelope beneath its claws, glared upon him fiercely. Dick’s presence of mind did not forsake him; flight he knew was not to be thought of; his only chance he felt intuitively would be by keeping perfectly still; and aware that the beast would be unlikely to give up a struggling prey for another that was motionless, he stood face to face with his foe, not venturing to move an eyelid. In a few minutes the lion’s patience seemed to be exhausted; with a grand stateliness, it picked up the caama as easily as a dog would lift a hare, turned round, and lashing the bushes with its tail, disappeared in the jungle.
It took Dick some little time to recover himself sufficiently to return to the canoe. On arriving, he said nothing of the peril to which he had been exposed, but heartily congratulated himself that they had means of transport without making their way through jungles and forests.
As they advanced, they repeatedly came across evidences that the country had not been always, as now it was, utterly devoid of population; more than once, they observed traces which betokened the former existence of villages; either some ruined palisades or the debris of some thatched huts, or some solitary sacred tree within an enclosure would indicate that the death of a chief had, according to custom, made a native tribe migrate to new quarters.
If natives were still dwelling in the district, as was just probable, they must have been living underground, only emerging at night like beasts of prey, from which they were only a grade removed.
Dick Sands had every reason to feel convinced that cannibalism had been practised in the neighbourhood. Three times, as he was wandering in the forest, he had come upon piles of ashes and half-charred human bones, the remnants, no doubt, of a ghastly meal, and although he mentioned nothing of what he had seen to Mrs. Weldon, he made up his mind to go ashore as seldom as possible, and as often as he found it absolutely necessary to go, he gave Hercules strict directions to push off into midstream at the very first intimation of danger.
A new cause of anxiety arose on the following evening, and made it necessary for them to take the most guarded measures of precaution. The riverbed had widened out into a kind of lagoon, and on the right side of this, built upon piles in the water, not only was there a collection of about thirty huts, but the fires gleaming under the thatch, made it evident that they were all inhabited. Unfortunately the only channel of the stream flowed close under the huts, the river elsewhere being so obstructed with rocks that navigation of any kind was impossible. Nothing was more probable than that the natives would have set their nets all across the piles, and if so, the canoe would be sure to be obstructed, and an alarm must inevitably be raised. Every caution seemed to be unavailing, because the canoe must follow the stream; however, in the lowest of whispers Dick ordered Hercules to keep clear as much as he could of the worm-eaten timber. The night was not very dark, which was equally an advantage and a disadvantage, as while it permitted those on board to steer as they wanted, it did not prevent them from being seen.
The situation became more and more critical. About a hundred feet ahead, the channel was very contracted; two natives, gesticulating violently, were seen squatting on the pilework; a few moments more and their voices could be heard; it was obvious that they had seen the floating mass; apprehending that it was going to destroy their nets, they yelled aloud and shouted for assistance; instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles, and perched themselves upon the crossbeams.
On board the canoe the profoundest silence was maintained. Dick only signalled his directions to Hercules, without uttering a word, while Jack performed his part by holding Dingo’s mouth tightly closed, to stop the low growlings which the faithful watchdog seemed resolved to make; but fortunately every sound was overpowered by the rushing of the stream and the clamour of the negroes, as they hurriedly drew in their nets. If they should raise them in time, all might be well, but if, on the other hand, the canoe should
