nto about half a
dozen bands, hiding themselves with perfect native cunning, they were
as effective as ten times the number of less active, less revengeful
foes might be; and they grew bolder every hour.

Despairing of success--wearied, wounded, harassed, sick--the
adventurers resolved to turn back. Since they had entered the hilly
country, they had lost seven men; and as the whole country seemed
rising to oppose them, it was madness to attempt to force a passage
along the rocky, unknown way. With heavy hearts they paddled into the
main stream, got into the current, and drifted northwards towards the
ocean.

For days there was hardly any attempt at rowing. The strong rush of
the chalky waters swept the boats along. Awnings were erected to shut
off the terrific heat of the equatorial sun, and the men lay and dozed
and rested, their native allies directing the course of the voyage. No
foes appeared, days and nights were quiet and uneventful, and the
strength and spirits of all began to revive. They had failed in their
quest. What of that? The summer was not yet gone. There were Spanish
galleons to be attacked. The Johnsons could show where Oxenham had
hidden his treasure; and if they had not found Lake Parime and its city
of gold, they had explored much new and wondrously fertile country.
The passion for exploration and the gaining of knowledge of new lands
was almost as strong in the hearts of the bold fellows as was the
thirst for treasure. Third day down the river Dan sang his song again;
'twas,--

"Ho! for the Spanish Main,
And ha! for the Spanish gold!"

King Philip's ships were the true and sure gold-mines. All eyes looked
and all hearts yearned for the sea. Their thoughts flew to their bonny
little ship. Was she safe? How that question agitated every one, and
what intense speculation there was as to the way the question would be
answered!

If the way back was easier than the journey forward, it was not less
dangerous. The heat had increased, insect life had multiplied a
myriad-fold, and the pestilential vapours from the swampy lowlands were
thicker and deadlier than before; and the men were not fresh from the
invigorating sea, but were spent and worn with a thousand hardships.
They drooped, sickened, raved in delirium, and in some cases died.
Even the cheery Dan succumbed to the poison of the noisome night mists,
and whilst the fever was on him his songs and jests were sorely missed.
M