The Mundurucú made an attempt to dissuade his "patron" from the course he designed pursuing; but his advice was disregarded,--perhaps because ill-understood,--and the galatea glided on. Who could mistake that broad expanse of water--upon which the moon shone so clearly--for aught else than the true channel of the Solimoës? Not Tipperary Tom, who, in the second watch of the night,--the owner himself having kept the first,--acted as steersman of the galatea. The others had gone to sleep. Trevannion and the three young people under the tolda; Mozey and the Mundurucú along the staging known as the "hold." The birds and monkeys were at rest on their respective perches, and in their respective cages,--all was silent in the galatea, and around,--all save the rippling of the water, as it parted to the cleaving of her keel. CHAPTER V. THE GALATEA AGROUND. Little experienced as he was in the art of navigation, the steersman was not inattentive to his duty. Previously to his taking the rudder, he had been admonished about the importance of keeping the craft in the channel of the stream, and to this had he been giving his attention. It so chanced, however, that he had arrived at a place where there were two channels,--as if an island was interposed in the middle of the river, causing it to branch at an acute angle. Which of these was the right one? Which should be taken? These were the questions that occurred to Tipperary Tom. At first he thought of awakening his master, and consulting him, but on once more glancing at the two channels, he became half convinced that the broader one must be the proper route to be followed. "Bay Japers!" muttered he to himself. "Shure I can't be mistaken. The biggest av the two ought to be the mane sthrame. Anyway, I won't wake the masther. I'll lave it to the ship to choose for hersilf." Saying this he relaxed his hold upon the steering oar, and permitted the galatea to drift with the current. Sure enough, the little craft inclined towards the branch that appeared the broader one; and in ten minutes' time had made such way that the other opening was no longer visible from her decks. The steersman, confident of being on the right course, gave himself no further uneasiness; but, once more renewing his hold upon the steering oar, guided the galatea in the middle of the channel. Notwithstanding all absence of suspicion as to having gone astray, he could not help noticing that the banks on each side appeared to be singularly irregular, as if here and there indented by deep bays, or reaches of water. Some of these opened out vistas of shining surface, apparently illimitable, while the dark patches that separated them looked more like clumps of trees half submerged under water, than stretches of solid earth.