148 
THE GOLDEN BIYER. 
at night down a trap-door, and slept, mysteri¬ 
ously, in the bowels of the launch, from whence 
came a steady gutteral snoring. 
The Capitan never left his post all the time 
we were steaming, and hour after hour he 
stayed there, whilst the Lelia picked her way 
daintily through the maze of the river. Some¬ 
times we passed a tiny settlement perched in a 
clearing, and then she blew a note of greeting, 
but almost before the last sounds of the whistle 
had vibrated to silence she had chugged round 
the next bend of the river, and was lost to sight. 
We sat and gazed at the banks ahead, at the 
walls of forest that neared us, were swallowed 
up, and flung behind us. All was fresh and 
strange, it seemed as though we were turning, 
leaf by leaf, a new and wonderful picture book. 
The men had their rifles across their knees, 
ready for a shot at the wary crocodiles, who 
never awaited our coming, or at any game that 
should stir on the bank. Once they fired at a 
huge boar that showed a brown flank for a 
moment in the dense reeds, but he escaped. 
Books and work lay in our laps, but the fascina¬ 
tion of watching the scenery slide past kept us 
enthralled. 
When the sun got too hot we had a siesta in 
the saloon, and at 3 o’clock it was time for tea : 
freshly-made scone bread, cake of the same, 
sweetened with sugar and flavoured with 
shredded peel and orange juice, innumerable 
