Old Gold: The Cruise of the "Jason" BrigFenn, George Manville
General
Old Gold: The Cruise of the "Jason" Brig
Fenn, George Manville
Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction; South America -- Juvenile fiction; Treasure troves -- Juvenile fiction
During their steady glide on, half a dozen more good-sized birds of
similar and different kinds were brought down from where they were
feeding upon the fruits and berries, the men's spirits rising with their
success as much as from the beauty of the winding gorge, so that the
evening's camping was looked forward to with eagerness, while the
captain's declaration that they were getting beyond the influence of the
flood was received with a cheer.
"You see, gentlemen, it's like this: the flood has been acting like the
tide in a river which has kept back the regular flow here, and it
strikes me that before we have gone many miles farther the stream will
have grown slacker and slacker till it comes almost to a standstill, and
to-morrow some time we shall have it against us once more."
"Unless we turn into another stream and so get back a fresh way,"
suggested Brace. "It is a wonderful network of water."
"Maybe," said the captain; "but we don't want to lose our bearings."
"We couldn't if we kept on going down stream. We must reach the sea
somewhere."
"That's right enough," said the captain drily; "but I don't want to
reach it somewhere. I want the way that leads by my brig."
"Yes," said Briscoe, laughing. "Why, Brace, we might be getting out
somewhere or other in the Pacific Ocean."
"What about crossing the Andes first?" said Brace sharply.
"Oh, that would be all right. I daresay we could keep on rising till we
found a way through-place where the watershed runs, as the learned chaps
say."
He had hardly spoken before Brace caught him by the arm, gripping it
strongly.
"What is it--bird?"
"No," said Brace, in a hoarse whisper. "I caught sight of a canoe
gliding along under the rocks on the farther shore."
"Did you?" said Briscoe coolly. "Well, I'm not surprised. The Indians
would be fools if some of them didn't come and live along here. It's
about the most beautiful place I ever saw."
"I can see it now," said Sir Humphrey, looking through his glass.
"There are four Indians in it with feather crowns on their heads. I
don't think they have seen us till now, for they are paddling the other
way."
"Then I tell you what: let's lie-to under the trees here," said the
captain. "There's a level bit about fifty feet up like a shelf in yon
bit of a gully. I had my eye upon that directly, and down here we can
lie up quite snugly. Let's have a quiet night somehow, and go on
to-morrow morning to see whether the Indians mean to be friends or foes.
See 'em still, Sir Humphrey?"
"No," was the reply; "they have gone right out of sight."
"Then now have the goodness to use your glass well, and sweep all the
shelves up the farther shore to see if you can make out any sign of an
Indian village, sir. Seems a wonderfully likely place for people to be
living."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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