Guy in the Jungle Part 25

In spite of their utmost efforts they continued to float down inch by inch.

Which was the proper channel? It was a puzzling problem on which perhaps hung life and death. There was no time for consideration, and under the circ.u.mstances Guy adopted the only possible course.

"Head the canoe straight for the center of the rock and let her drift,"

he cried. "The current shall decide for us."

This was instantly done and they drifted with perfect accuracy straight for the splitting point in the stream.

For a moment it looked as though they would be flung against the rocks and upset, but as the canoe reached the turning-point it trembled an instant in the balance and then darted headlong into the channel to the right.

"A good omen," cried the colonel. "The river Juba lies on our right.

This must be the proper channel."

It was a very narrow channel, at all events, and a very swift one, too, for the rocky walls on either side were almost close enough to touch with the paddles, and they were moving at a dizzy rate of speed.

"There are rapids below us," said Forbes. "I can hear them dimly."

Melton's hearing was unusually acute, for as yet the rest could hear nothing, but in a few seconds the distant roar was audible to all, and it grew ominously louder with every second.

They grasped the sides of the canoe in anxious suspense--for it was useless to paddle--and the angry waters were almost in sight, when Sir Arthur dropped his torch, and instantly they were plunged in total darkness.

No time remained to strike a fresh light. The sullen crash of the waters drowned the sound of their voices, and the canoe blindly took its own course and they felt the chill spray spattering their faces.

"b.u.mp, b.u.mp, b.u.mp," went the quivering boat, grinding and cras.h.i.+ng on loose rocks, and then with one terrific lurch, that sent them sprawling on their knees, the violent tossing subsided and the choppy waves smacked the bottom of the canoe.

With some difficulty Guy lit a fresh torch, and its light revealed a strange condition of things.

No sh.o.r.e was visible on either side, and overhead was empty s.p.a.ce instead of the low lying roof that always met their gaze.

"We are no longer moving," cried the colonel in astonishment.

"Impossible!" exclaimed Guy, but on putting his hand in the water all doubt was instantly removed. The canoe was stationary.

They paddled on to the right, to the left, in every direction, but the dark water lay calm and sluggish on all sides.

"We are on a lake," said Guy. "There is no doubt of it; a vast underground lake."

"There must be an outlet on the other side, though," replied Melton.

"All we need do is to paddle across and find it."

"But which is the proper side?" said Canaris. "Are we headed straight now?"

"By Jove, I don't believe we are," replied Guy. "I'm afraid we are completely mixed up. We will paddle until we reach the sh.o.r.e, and then follow it till we come to the outlet."

"Yes, that will do very well," said the colonel. "The lake cannot be so very large. I wish we had time to complete a survey of it. I should like to make a report to the Royal Geographical Society."

"I wish the honorable members of the R. G. S. could change places with us," said Sir Arthur, with a groan. "I have no doubt some of those lunatics would enjoy this beastly hole. There is no accounting for taste, Carrington."

The colonel made no reply. He was keeping stroke with Chutney's paddle, sharing with him the outlook ahead. The minutes pa.s.sed on, but still no signs of any sh.o.r.e.

"It's a pretty fair-sized lake after all," said Guy.

"And we are the first white men to navigate its waters," remarked the colonel solemnly. "This is a wonderful discovery. Our fame as great explorers will be a.s.sured if we ever get back to England."

"Land ahead!" shouted Guy suddenly, and s.n.a.t.c.hing the torch from Sir Arthur, he stood erect as the canoe shot gently toward a dim object that rose from the gloom twenty yards distant. Amid breathless silence the keel nicked the sandy beach and Guy sprang out.

One brief second he held the flaming torch aloft.

Then he turned and tottered with trembling limbs towards the canoe. He tried to speak, but no words came, and his face was pallid and horror-stricken.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE ISLE OF SKELETONS.

Believing that some terrible danger threatened, Forbes was in readiness to push the canoe back into the lake, but Guy stopped him with a wave of the hand.

"I'll be all right in a moment. My nerves went back on me; that's all."

He glanced toward the sh.o.r.e with a shudder, and then filled the palm of his hand with water and drank it.

"Come on," he said bravely; "don't be alarmed. It's nothing that can harm us."

His companions followed him timidly up the sandy slope. The torch threw a bright light on the scene, and every one of them shuddered as Guy stopped and pointed before him.

On a flat, rocky plateau, three or four feet above the level of the lake, lay a gleaming ma.s.s of bones, all dried and whitened by age.

"Human skeletons, by gracious!" burst from the colonel, and it was easy to see that he spoke the truth.

Human skeletons they were, but instead of being joined together, skulls, arms, and legs lay scattered about in awful confusion.

"This is horrible," said Forbes. "Who were these unfortunates, and what could have caused such mutilation?"

Guy advanced to the center of the plateau, flas.h.i.+ng the torch around him, and turning to his companions, he cried: "This is an island; there is water all around it."

"Look here," exclaimed Canaris eagerly; "here lies a raft of logs, half buried in the sand."

This new discovery promised some light on the mystery, and they crowded hastily around the Greek, who was bending over the rude structure.

It lay half way up the beach, and over the lower extremities of the logs a thick layer of sand had been washed. Close by were half a dozen coa.r.s.e sacks, which proved on inspection to contain skins of leopards and tigers, bright colored feathers, coffee, and aromatic gums. All were in fairly good condition.

"Here is something else," cried Forbes. "Arms, by Jove! Spears and axes, torches and paddles. Well, by gracious, what does this mean?"

An inkling of the truth flashed upon them simultaneously, and they stared at each other in frightened silence.

"This was the last load of natives to go down the river," said Canaris quietly. "Here is their raft, their trading goods. Yonder lie their bones. Their journey ended here."