ies, not a murmur, not a
footstep. A bird alighted, twittering, on the branches just over his
head, then another and another. A pair of yellow thrushes in the brake
behind set up their half-grating, half-piping, duet; and he could hear
the raucous croak of a white-necked crow, sailing lazily along the
river-bank. Believed of the presence of its natural enemy, man, the
life of this solemn wilderness was beginning once more to come forth.

Gerard, however, delayed long to follow its example, as we have said.
His enemies might have left some of their number at a little distance to
watch; or the very birds whose presence now assured him of his safety,
might by their calls of alarm, attract the notice of the receding
Igazipuza. So for upwards of an hour he waited there, momentarily
expecting another attack from an alligator; but whether it was that the
struggle and the fate of the one had scared away the others from the
spot, he was spared the ordeal of a second conflict. At length, cramped
and shivering, every bone and muscle in his body aching, poor Gerard
hauled himself cautiously up by the overhanging branches and stood, or
rather rolled, upon the bank again.

To a feeling of unspeakable elation and thankfulness succeeded one of
depression. He had escaped so far--had escaped a double peril, in a
manner that was little short of miraculous. But here he was, alone in a
semi-hostile, if not entirely hostile country, which was completely
unknown to him, without food, and not daring to fire a shot lest it
should bring his enemies down upon him. Moreover, he was numbed and
shivering from his long immersion, which might result in fever, ague,
and such evils, not unknown in the belts of bush country. Again, he was
still on the wrong side of the river, and now, bearing in mind his
recent experience of its grisly denizens, the contingency of being
obliged to cross it alone, and that by wading or swimming, he
contemplated with shrinking and horror. But then again would come the
thought of his almost miraculous escape. Surely he had been preserved
for some purpose, and what purpose could be more worthy of
accomplishment than that which he had in hand. No; this was not the
time to despair, not it, indeed.

The day was now well advanced. Gerard, thinking hard, resolved that he
had better not begin to move until dusk. It was dangerous now. He
might be sighted from afar, or fall in with wandering bands, and not yet
did