"Bah! All humbug, lad. Looks very pretty from a boat, but inside it's all impenetrable jungle; soppy and squishy, and without a path."
The day glided by as they went gently onward higher and higher up the river, whose sides still looked like vast walls of verdure. They fished a little and shot less, for in spite of all that they said the beauties around seemed to have the effect of checking their desire to slay, so that very few birds fell to their guns.
"But it's very jolly all the same," said Beecher, as the great heat of the day began to grow less. "We don't get many adventures, and I must shoot something. Why—hullo! What does this mean?"
Hollins made no answer, but started from his place to look up the river, as a couple of banks of oars churned up the surface, sending a large prahu round a broad bend of the stream a quarter of a mile away.
"Don't know," said Hollins slowly. "She's full of armed men, for you can see the spear heads glistening. Well, we mustn't go back, or they'll think we're afraid."
"Of course: we must go on."
"Of course: we must go on."
"Yes, tell them to go on rowing or poling."
"Come, look sharp," cried Beecher. "Pull away, but give that big prahu plenty of room."