He could not get himself even to like the man.
The signal-tree was but a few yards distant from the spot where they sat.
And now there came a wild, excited hail therefrom.
"Golly foh true, Ma.s.sa d.i.c.k!"
Brawn jumped up, and barked wildly.
His echo came from beyond the stream, and he barked still more wildly at that.
"Well, boy," shouted d.i.c.k, "do you see anything?"
"Plenty moochee see. Beel come. Not very far off. Beel and de boats!"
This was indeed joyful news for d.i.c.k. He happened to glance at Peter for a moment, however, and could not help being struck with the change that seemed to have come over him. He appeared to have aged suddenly.
His face was gray, his lips compressed, his brows lowered and stern.
d.i.c.k never forgot that look.
d.i.c.k Temple was really good-hearted, and he felt for this man, and something kept telling him he was innocent and wronged.
But he had nothing to fear if innocent. He would certainly be put to inconvenience, but for that, if all went well, Roland would not fail to recompense him handsomely, and he--d.i.c.k--had a duty to perform to his friend. So now in the bustle that followed--if Peter wanted to make a rush for the woods--he might try.
Roland had heard the hail, and his canoe was now coming swiftly on towards the bank. d.i.c.k ran to meet him.
When he half-pulled his friend on sh.o.r.e and turned back with him, behold! Peter was gone.
CHAPTER XVIII--AS IF STRUCK BY A DUM-DUM BULLET
Roland and d.i.c.k walked quickly towards the camp.
It was all a scene of bustle and stir indescribable, for good news as well as bad travels apace.
"Bill and the boats are coming!" Englishmen were shouting.
"Beel and de boats!" chorused the Indians.
But on the approach of "the young captains", as the boys were called, comparative peace was restored.
"Had anyone seen Mr. Peter?" was the first question put by our heroes to their white officers. "No," from all.
"He had disappeared for a few moments in his tent," said an Indian, "then der was no more Ma.s.sa Peter."
Scouts and armed runners were now speedily got together, and Roland gave them orders. They were to search the bush and forest, making a long detour or outflanking movement, then closing round a centre, as if in battue, to allow not a tree to go unexamined.
This was all that could be done.
So our heroes retraced their steps towards the river bank, where, lo!
they beheld a whole fleet of strange canoes, big and small, being rowed swiftly towards them.
In the bows of the biggest--a twelve-tonner--stood Burly Bill himself.
He was blacker with the sun than ever, and wildly waving the broadest kind of Panama hat ever seen on the Madeira. But in his left hand he clutched his meerschaum, and such clouds was he blowing that one might have mistaken the great canoe for a steam-launch.
He jumped on sh.o.r.e as soon as the prow touched the bank--the water here being deep.
Black though Burly Bill was, his smile was so pleasant, and his face so good-natured, that everybody who looked at him felt at once on excellent terms with himself and with all created things.
"I suppose I ought to apologize, Mr. Roland, for the delay--I--"
"And I suppose," interrupted Roland, "you ought to do nothing of the kind. Dinner is all ready, Bill; come and eat first. Put guards in your boats, and march along. Your boys will be fed immediately."
It was a splendid dinner.
Burly Bill, who was more emphatic than choice in English, called it a tiptopper, and all hands in Roland"s s.p.a.cious tent did ample justice to it.
Roland even spliced the main-brace, as far as Bill was concerned, by opening a bottle of choice port.
The boys themselves merely sipped a little. What need have lads under twenty for vinous stimulants?
Bill"s story was a long one, but I shall not repeat it. He had encountered the greatest difficulty imaginable in procuring the sort of boats he needed.
"But," he added, "all"s well that end"s well, I guess, and we"ll start soon now, I suppose, for the rapids of Antonio."
"Yes," said Roland, "we"ll strike camp possibly to-morrow; but we must do as much loading up as possible to-night."
"That"s the style," said Bill. "We"ve got to make haste. Only we"ve got to think! "Haste but not hurry", that"s my motto.
"But I say," he continued, "I miss two friends--where is Mr. Peter and where is Brawn?"
"Peter has taken French leave, I fear, and Brawn, where is Brawn, d.i.c.k?"
"I really did not miss either till now," answered d.i.c.k, "but let us continue to be fair to Mr. Peter-- Listen!"
At that moment shouting was heard far down the forest.
The noise came nearer and nearer, and our heroes waited patiently.
In five minutes" time into the tent bounded the great wolf-hound, gasping but laughing all down both sides, and with about a foot of pink tongue--more or less--hanging out at one side, over his alabaster teeth.
He quickly licked Roland"s ears and d.i.c.k"s, then uttered one joyous bark and made straight for Burly Bill.