On and on we went, the darkness settling quickly down. A new Castanet Frog raised its voice. This was really remarkable—a syncopated Oriental rhythm, clicking musically, and held by one frog for only a minute or two when another instantly took up the little tune. This shifting of place, the music sounding first here, then farther on, made it seem as if some invisible dancer were swiftly whirling over the reeds and tules. One could hear the clicking of the castanets and the tinkling of anklets, and the thought was made more vivid as a bejewelled coolie woman passed us in a long narrow dug-out, paddled swiftly by her husband. The water was very high and a wide new channel among the grasses so confused Marciano that we paddled for an hour before we realized that we were lost. We changed direction and guided ourselves by the stars, passing some dense grass through which we had to push laboriously. At last Marciano sent a clear, penetrating call through the night and the coolie answered, far ahead and to the left. We called twice after that and then came into a canal, and soon were alongside two canoes blocked by a lock. We would have as soon expected to find a motor car here in the wilderness as a canal lock, but nevertheless there _was_ a canal lock with no one to operate it. By our combined efforts we opened it, passed through and found ourselves surrounded by miles of sugar-cane fields. We had entered the back door, as it were, of the great sugar plantation of Anna Regina, one of the few which are still in operation. We were on the home stretch and the Indian boys towed us the remaining distance, running at full speed, tumbling head over heels into the water; and forgetting for once their usual Indian stolidness, they giggled and chattered as if they were out for a lark, instead of having paddled a heavily laden canoe on thirty-six hour stretches! [Illustration: FIG. 100. THE ROAD TO SUDDIE.] At midnight we reached the end of the canal, and a hundred yards up a road we found the Anna Regina police station. The guard turned out, cleared away the judge’s bench and witness box in the courtroom and laid blankets for us on the benches, as there were no rafters for our hammock ropes. Our Indians would not come near the dreaded prison house, but left our baggage at the entrance. They said good-by as they were to start back at once. We had grown to have a real affection for these simple men and boys, and found them the best of travelling companions, silent, courteous and wonderful workers. May the time come when Marciano will again pilot us through that beautiful region to which no pen or camera can do the slightest justice! The following morning after a walk through the neighboring coolie village of Henrietta, where we purchased some Yellow-bellied Callistes[142] and other birds, we secured a carriage, with a horse and a mule as motor power, and drove to Suddie, taking the steamer thence down the Essequibo River to Georgetown. CHAPTER VIII.