On a board were six large rye loaves, six thick rugs, a bag of flour, a jar of salt, a square of canvas that would form either a sail or an awning at will, and a broad-bladed axe. Pinned to the sack was a paper on which was written, in old-fashioned characters and in the quaint dialect of Croixilia: "If so be you have decided to go this way, these are for your welfare". "They evidently wish to show their good feeling, in spite of the fact that we sneaked out of the city," said Gerald. "Yes; it's quite certain that without the aid of our unknown friends our difficulties would be tenfold," replied Reeves. "However, we had better get these things aboard without further loss of time." When the last load was ready to be taken to the boat, Reeves folded the paper and put it in his pocket, while with a piece of charcoal he wrote the words "Many thanks!" upon the board. "We cannot do more in that respect," he observed. "I might have written on the back of the paper, but we don't know into whose hands it might fall." Reeves had already decided upon the boat that was to take them downstream. He chose the smaller of the two large ones, this craft being of fairly shallow draught, apparently of more recent construction, and easier to handle. The provisions were stored amidships and two short masts placed in position, the canvas being stretched tightly between them. As there was absolutely no wind, this last was useless as a sail, but as an awning it provided good protection from the already powerful rays of the sun. There were four oars on board--long, heavy ones, weighted at the haft with lead to compensate for the disproportionate distance between the thole pins and the blade. "Here is another type of mediaevalism," said the correspondent, pointing to the oars. "Almost the same as were used by the galley slaves of old. Oars on an African river seem out of place; paddles would be preferable under ordinary circumstances." "How would they?" asked Hugh, who was engaged in cooling his aching limbs in the tepid water. "In weed-encumbered water, such as we are likely to encounter. Here, as you see, the river expands, forming a fairly extensive lake, and vegetation is somewhat scarce; but I should not be at all surprised if we have to literally cut our way through the reeds and water lilies lower downstream." Casting off the rope that held it to the quay, Reeves pushed the boat clear and dipped an oar, Gerald pulling at a second while Hugh steered. A few strokes sufficed to put a fair distance between the shore and the craft, and her bow was pointed downstream. In less than half an hour the ghaut-like crags at the upper end of the lake were lost to view. CHAPTER XVIII Reeves's Ruse