Guy in the Jungle; Or, A Boy's Adventure in the Wilds of AfricaGraydon, William Murray
General
Guy in the Jungle; Or, A Boy's Adventure in the Wilds of Africa
Graydon, William Murray
Adventure stories; Africa -- Juvenile fiction; Jungles -- Juvenile fiction
"Impossible," said the colonel. "I can prove it instantly. When we
started away from the spot where the river enters on our trip around the
lake, the shore was on our right. When we arrived here just now it was
still on our right, whereas, had we unconsciously turned the canoe about
and reversed our course, the shore would be on our left. We have
circumnavigated the lake and returned to our starting point, and in some
way missed the outlet."
"No," cried Chutney in tones that chilled his hearers with horror. "We
did not miss the outlet."
"What do you mean?" cried the colonel.
"I say we did not miss the outlet," continued Guy, "because there was
no outlet to miss. No exit from the lake exists. We are entombed forever
and ever. None of us will ever see the light of day again. We shall die
here in the bowels of the earth, and the serpents will mangle us as they
mangled those poor unfortunates yonder on the island. Better to know the
truth now than later. It is useless to hope. I tell you we are doomed
men and----" Here Guy's voice faltered, and sinking down into the canoe,
he covered his face with his hands.
Sir Arthur uttered a heartrending cry and fell back in a faint. He lay
unnoticed. The torch dropped from the Greek's nerveless hands and
expired with a hiss. In darkness and silence they floated on and on
until the roar of the inflowing water became fainter and fainter. Then
it died out entirely and all was intensely quiet.
The darkness was grateful to their stricken hearts. They wanted time to
realize the awful misfortune that had fallen so suddenly and heavily
upon them.
It was impossible to grasp the truth in a moment, especially when that
truth meant utter hopelessness and a terrible death. So they drifted in
silence under the great vault of the cavern, living-dead in a living
tomb.
Long afterward--it might have been an hour and it might have been a day,
for all passage of time was lost--Chutney rose to a sitting posture.
His brain was dizzy and reeling. The aching misery lay heavy on his
heart, and yet one faint spark of hope lingered amid the black despair,
the natural buoyancy of his nature that refused even to submit to the
decrees of the inevitable.
It was he who had first spoken the words of doom to his companions, and
now he told himself he would show them the way to safety. He fumbled in
his clothes for a match, and striking it deliberately, lit a fresh
torch.
The pale, haggard faces that looked into each other as the bright light
shone over the water were ghastly and unnatural. Abject misery and
hopelessness were stamped on each one.
The colonel and Forbes faced Guy calmly. Canaris looked up with a
shudder and then dropped his head again. Sir Arthur lay among the rugs
as though asleep.
At that instant the canoe struck some obstacle with a slight tremor and
stopped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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