to attempt the bridge, taking the risk of being
seen. It might prove fatal to be seen, as I would have to bolt back, and
once knowing a fugitive was in the jungle they might turn out and hedge
me in, unless I took the sea route. This I resolved to do, if the one by
the bridge proved impracticable.

So during the afternoon I gathered a small lot of dried limbs and broke
them off in sufficient quantity to make a raft capable of bearing about
twenty pounds. On this I intended to put my revolvers, cartridges,
cigars, etc., and also to rest lightly on it myself, pushing it before
me as I swam. After dark I crossed the road into the jungle skirting the
beach, carrying my raft, and deposited it on the sand. Lying down in the
hot sand near by smoking a cigar, I waited for the moon to go down. I
was doing more than watch the stars and moonlit water. I was saying to
myself, "What a jolly world is this!"

Then, beginning to argue of human destiny, at last I brought the
argument around to Ego, and decided that he was a pretty clever fellow,
and that the world meant to treat him well. So Ego, settling down into a
very comfortable frame of mind, lighting a fresh cigar and looking
across at the dark masses of the coral islets crowned with foliage set
in the mirrored waters, passed two delightful hours.

I watched the moon go down and was not impatient, for the beauty of the
scene more even than the novelty of the position cast a charm over the
spirit and soothed the eye and mind. I wondered how many were seeking me
and how many thousands were speculating over my identity and
whereabouts, yet not one in his wildest imagination could ever picture
the reality of my position in all its strange and magic surroundings.
Through all the coming twenty years, nightly in my dungeon, the
magician memory would unroll that scene from his pictured chambers. It
was all there--the physical that the eye took in and the thoughts evoked
and sent swarming to the brain, there to remain engraved until life and
memory end.

[Illustration: SCENE NEAR RIO JANEIRO.]

CHAPTER XXXIII.

SHARKS, SALT WATER ONES, AND OTHER THINGS.

The bridge had no protection along the side save a simple stringpiece of
timber. On the far side the houses rested nearly against the bridge
entrance, forming a street, which I had to pass through.

The moon went down at 10, but I could hear loud voices and occasional
bursts of laughter until 11. Then all grew still save