Just as the sun's disk was seen above the tree-tops that skirted the_lagoa_ on the east, our adventurers embarked on their aquaticexpedition. But it could not be said that they started in high spirits.They knew not what was to be the sequel of their singular undertaking.Where their journey was to end, or whether its end might not be for someof their number--if not all of them--the bottom of the Gapo.

  Indeed, the Indian, to whom they all looked for encouragement as well asguidance, was himself not very sanguine of success. He did not say so,but for all that Trevannion, who had kept interrogating him at intervalswhile they were preparing to start, had become impressed with thisbelief. As the Mundurucu persisted in counselling the expedition, hedid not urge any further opposition, and under the auspices of aglorious tropical sunrise they committed themselves to the open watersof the lagoa.

  At the very start there occurred a somewhat ominous accident. As thecoaita would have been a cumbersome companion for any of the swimmers tocarry, it was decided that the creature should be left behind.Unpleasant as it was to part with a pet so long in the company of thegalatea's crew, there was no alternative but to abandon it.

  Tipperary Tom, notwithstanding his attachment toward it, or rather itsattachment toward him, was but too willing to assent to the separation.He had a vivid recollection of his former entanglement, and the risk hehad run of being either drowned in the Gapo, or strangled by thecoaita's tail; and with this remembrance still fresh before his fancy,he had taken the precaution at this new start to steal silently off fromthe trees, among the foremost of the swimmers. Everybody in fact hadgot off, before the coaita was aware of their intention to abandon it,and to such a distance that by no leap could it alight upon anybody'sshoulders. On perceiving that it was left behind, it set up a series ofcries, painfully plaintive, but loud enough to have been heard almost tothe limits of the lagoa.

  A similar desertion of the macaw was evidently intended, to which no onehad given a thought, although it was Rosa's pet. The ouistiti had beenprovided with a free passage upon the shoulders of the young Paraense.But the huge parrot was not to be left behind in this free and easyfashion. It was not so helpless as the coaita. It possessed a pair ofstrong wings, which, when strongly and boldly spread, could carry itclear across the lagoa. Conscious of this superior power, it did notstay long upon the trees, to mingle its chattering with the screams ofthe coaita. Before the swimmers had made a hundred strokes, the macawmounted into the air, flew for a while hoveringly above them, as ifselecting its perch, and then dropped upon the negro's head, burying itsclaws in his tangled hair.

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

  THE GUIDE ABANDONED.

  As the swimmers proceeded, their hopes grew brighter. They saw thatthey were able to make good headway through the water; and in less thanan hour they were a full mile distant from their point of departure. Atthis rate they should be on the other side of the lagoon before sunset,if their strength would only hold out. The voyage promised to beprosperous; and joy sat upon their countenances.

  Shortly after there came a change. A cloud was seen stealing over thebrow of the Mundurucu, which was the cue for every other to exhibit asimilar shadowing. Trevannion kept scanning the countenance of thetapuyo to ascertain the cause of his disquietude. He made no enquiry;but he could tell by the behaviour of the Indian that there, was troubleon his mind. At intervals he elevated his head above the water, andlooked back over his shoulder, as if seeking behind him for the cause ofhis anxiety. As they swam on farther, Munday's countenance lost nothingof its anxious cast, while his turnings and backward glances became morefrequent. Trevannion also looked back, though only to ascertain themeaning of the tapuyo's manoeuvres. He could see nothing to account forit,--nothing but the tree-tops from which they had parted, and theseevery moment becoming less conspicuous. Though the patron did notperceive it, this was just what was causing the tapuyo's apprehensivelooks. The sinking of the trees was the very thing that was producinghis despondency.

  Stimulated less by curiosity than alarm, Trevannion could keep silent nolonger. "Why do you look back, Munday?" he inquired. "Is there anydanger in that direction? Have you a fear that we shall be followed? Ican see nothing except the tree-tops, and them scarcely at this moment."

  "That's the danger. We shall soon lose sight of them altogether; andthen--"

  "What then?"

  "Then--I confess, patron, I am puzzled. I did not think of it before wetook to the water."

  "O, I see what you mean. You've been hitherto guiding our course by thetrees from which we parted. When they are no longer in view we shallhave nothing to steer by?"

  "It is true. The Great Spirit only can guide us then!" The Mundurucuevidently felt more than chagrin that he had expressed himself soconfidently about their being able to cross the lagoon. He had onlytaken into consideration the circumstance of their being able to swim,without ever thinking of the chance of their losing the way. The treessinking gradually to the horizon first admonished him; and as hecontinued to swim farther into the clear water, he became convinced thatsuch mischance was not only possible, but too probable. With a sort ofdespairing effort he kept on with even more energy than before, as iftrying how far he could follow a straight line without depending on anyobject to pilot him.

  After proceeding thus for two or three hundred yards, he once moreraised his chin to his shoulder and looked back. The tree-tops werebarely visible; but he was satisfied on perceiving that the one fromwhich they had started rose up directly opposite to him, thus provingthat in his trial stretch he had gone in a straight line, inspiring himwith the hope of being able to continue it to the opposite side. Withrenewed confidence he kept on, after uttering a few phrases of cheer tothe others.

  Another stretch of about three hundred yards was passed through insilence, and without any incident to interrupt the progress of theswimmers. Then all came to a pause, seeing their conductor, as before,suspend his stroke, and again make a rearward reconnoissance. This timehe did not appear so well satisfied, until he had raised his head highover the surface, which he accomplished by standing erect, and beatingthe water with his palms downward, when his confidence was againrefreshed, and he started forward once more.

  At the next stopping-place, instead of raising himself once into thestanding poise, he did so several times in succession, each time sinkingdown again with an exclamation of disappointment. He could not see thetrees, even at the utmost stretch of his neck. With a grunt that seemedto signify his assent to the abandoning of their guidance, he again laidhimself along the water, and continued in the direction he had beenalready following; but not before assuring himself that he was on theright course, which fortunately he was still able to do by noting therelative positions of the others.

  At starting away from this, which he intended should be their laststopping-place, he delivered a series of admonitions intended for everyswimmer. They were to keep their places, that is, their relativepositions to him and one another, as nearly as might be; they were toswim gently and slowly, according to the example he should set them, sothat they might not become fatigued and require to pause for rest; and,above all, they were not to bother him by putting questions, but were,in short, to proceed in perfect silence. He did not condescend toexplain these strange injunctions further than by telling them that, ifthey were not followed, and to the letter, neither he nor they mightever climb into another tree-top!

  It is needless to say that, after such an intimation, his ordersreceived implicit obedience; and those to whom he had given them swamonward after him as silently as so many fishes. The only sound heardwas the monotonous sighing of the water, seething against the hollowsapucaya-shells, now and then varied by the scream of the _caracara_eagle, as it poised itself for a second over their heads, in surprise atthe singular cohort of aquatic creatures moving so mysteriously throughthe lagoons.

  CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

  ROUND AND ROUND.

  For a full hour our adve
nturers preserved, not only their relativepositions, but also the silence that had been enjoined upon them. Noneof them spoke, even when a dead guariba--that had been drowned, perhaps,by attempting a leap too great for its strength and agility--camedrifting along among them. Not one of them took any notice of it exceptthe ouistiti upon the shoulders of Richard Trevannion. This diminutivequadrumanous specimen, on recognising the body of one of its bigkinsmen, entered upon a series of chatterings and squeakings, tremblingall the while as if suddenly awakened to the consciousness that it wasitself in danger of terminating its existence in a similar manner.

  Its cries were not heeded. Munday's admonition had been delivered in atone too serious to be disregarded; and the ouistiti was permitted toutter its plaint, without a single word being addressed to it, either ofchiding or consolation. Tranquillity was at length restored, for thelittle ape, seeing that no notice was taken of it, desisted from itsnoisy demonstrations, and once more the swimmers proceeded in silence.

  Half an hour or so might have elapsed before this silence received asecond interruption. It again came in the voice of the ouistiti; which,rearing itself on its tiny hind-legs, having the shoulders of theParaense for a support, craning its head outward over the water,commenced repeating its cries of alarm. In seeking for an explanationof this conduct, they contented themselves with watching the movementsof the alarmist, and by turning their eyes towards the object whichappeared to attract the ouistiti and cause it such evident alarm. Eachbuoyed himself up to get a good view; and each, as he did so, saw scarceten paces ahead of him the carcass of a guariba! It was driftingtowards them in the same manner as the one they had already met; andbefore any of them thought of exchanging speech, it was bobbing about intheir midst.

  The reflection that occurred to the swimmers was, that there had been ageneral drowning among the guaribas somewhere on the shores of thelagoon: perhaps a tribe had got into some isolated tree, where theirretreat had been cut off by the inundation. Had the tapuyo not been ofthe party, this theory might have satisfied all hands, and the journeywould have been continued, instead of being suddenly interrupted by thetapuyo himself. He was not so easily deceived. On passing the firstguariba, although he had said nothing, he had carefully noted thepeculiarities of the carcass; and as soon as he swam withindistinguishing distance of the second guariba, he saw that the pair wereidentical. In other words, our adventurers had for the second timeencountered the same unfortunate ape.

  There could be but one conclusion. The carcass could not have changedits course, unless by the shifting of the wind, or the current of thewater. But neither would have explained that second _rencontre_. Itwas only intelligible upon the supposition that the swimmers had beengoing round and round and returning on their own track!

  CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

  GOING BY GUESS.

  Although their guide was the first to discover it, he did not attempt toconceal the dilemma into which he had been instrumental in leading them."'Tis true, patron!" he said, addressing himself to Trevannion, and nolonger requiring compliance with his former regulations. "We have goneastray. That's the same monkey we met before; so you see we're backwhere we were a half-hour ago. _Pa terra_! It's crooked luck, patron;but I suppose the Great Spirit wills it so!"

  Trevannion, confounded, made scarcely any reply.

  "We mustn't remain here anyhow," pursued the Indian. "We must try toget to the trees somewhere,--no matter where."

  "Surely," said the ex-miner, "we can accomplish that?"

  "I hope so," was the reply of the tapuyo, given with no greatconfidence.

  Trevannion reflected that they had been _swimming in a circle_. Shouldthis occur again,--and there was every possibility of such a thing,--thedesired end might not be so easy of accomplishment.

  For some minutes speculation was suspended. The guide was engaged inaction. Like a water-spaniel in search of a winged wild-duck, herepeatedly reared himself above the surface, casting glances ofinterrogation to every quarter of the compass. Like the same spaniel,when convinced that the wounded bird has escaped him, he at lengthdesisted from these idle efforts; and, laying his body along the water,prepared to swim disappointedly to the shore.

  With something more than disappointment--something more than chagrin--did Munday commence retreating from the lagoon. As he called upon hiscompanions to follow him, there was a tremor in his voice, and anirresolution in his stroke perceptible to the least observant of them;and the fact of his having shouldered the dead guariba, after firstmaking inspection to see that it was fit for food, was proof of hisentertaining some suspicion that their voyage might be a long one. Noone questioned him; for notwithstanding the failure of his promise toguide them straight across the lagoon, they still relied upon him. Onwhom or what else could they rely?

  After proceeding a considerable distance, he came to a pause, once morestood up in the water, and, turning as upon a pivot, scanned the circleof the horizon. Satisfied that there was not a tree-top within view, heswam onward as before. Could he have ensured keeping a straight course,no great danger need have been apprehended. The lagoon might be tenmiles wide; or, if twenty, it could not so materially affect the result.Swim as slowly as they might, a score of hours would see them on itsshore,--whether this was the spray of another submerged forest, or thetrue _terra firma_. There was no danger of their going to the bottom,for their swimming-belts secured them against that. There was no dangerof their suffering from thirst,--the contingency most dreaded by thecastaway at sea, and the strayed traveller in the desert,--of freshwater they had a surfeit. Nor did hunger dismay them. Since eating thejacana, they had set forth upon a breakfast of Brazil-nuts,--a foodwhich, from its oily nature, may be said to combine both animal andvegetable substance. Moreover, they were now no longer unprovidedagainst a future emergency: since their guide carried upon his shouldersthe carcass of the guariba.

  Their real danger lay in their deviating from a right line: for whocould swim straight, with his eyes on a level with the surface of thewater, and nothing to direct his course, neither tree, nor rock, norstar, nor signal of any kind? The tapuyo knew this. So did they all.Even the children could tell that they were no longer guided, but goingby guess-work. It was no longer a question of getting _across_ thelagoon, but _out_ of it. The unsteady movements of their guide, insteadof allaying their fears, produced the contrary effect, and thedisconsolate expression on his countenance was evidence that he wasunder much apprehension.

  For over an hour this uncertainty continued. The swimmers, one and all,were beginning to give way to serious alarm. To say nothing of reachingland, they might never more set eyes upon the submerged forest. Theymight swim round and round, as in the vortex of Charybdis, until sheerexhaustion should reduce them utterly. In due time hunger must overtakethem; and a lingering death by starvation might be their destiny. Whenfaint from want of food and unable to defend themselves, they would beattacked by predatory creatures dwelling in the water, while birds ofprey would assail them from the air. Already could they fancy that thecry of the caracara sounded more spiteful than was its wont; andexultingly, as if the base bird foreboded for them a tragical ending.

  More than twenty times had the tapuyo repeated his inspection of thehorizon, without seeing aught to cheer him. They had been many hours inthe water, and supposed it to be about noon. They could only conjectureas to the time, for the sun was not visible. At an early hour in themorning--almost as they started--the sky had become overcast with asheet of leaden grey, concealing the sun's disk from their sight. Thiscircumstance had caused some discouragement; but for it they might longsince have escaped from their dilemma, as the golden luminary, while lowdown, would have served them as a guide.

  Strange to say, at that hour when it was no longer of any concern tothem, the sky became suddenly clear, and the sun shone forth withburning brilliance. But his orb was now in the zenith, and of noservice to point out the quarter of the compass. Within the equatorialzone, no
rth, south, east, and west were all alike to him at that seasonof the year and that hour of the day. If they could but have thedirection of one of these points, all would have been well. But the sungave no sign.

  For all that, the Indian hailed his appearance with a grunt ofsatisfaction, while a change came over his countenance that could scarcebe caused by the mere brightening of the sky. Something more thancheerfulness declared itself in his dark features,--an expression ofrenewed hope.

  "If the sun keep on to show," said he, in answer to the questioning ofTrevannion, "it will be all right for us. Now it's no good. In an hourfrom now he'll make some shadow. Then we shall swim as straight as canbe, never fear, patron! we shall get out of this scrape before night,--never fear!"

  These cheering words were welcome, and produced universal joy where butthe moment before all was gloom.

  "I think, patron," continued the tapuyo. "We may as well stop swimmingfor a while, till we see which way the sun goes. Then we can make afresh start. If we keep on now, we may be only making way in the wrongdirection."