await their return.

Uncle Paul, Captain van Dunk, and Peter talked over their plans. They
did not conceal from themselves the difficulties of their project; but
still, like brave men, they resolved to accomplish it. Though their saw
was too small to cut out the planks of the proposed vessel, they might
obtain them by splitting up trees with wedges, and then smoothing them
down with the axe. Though they had no nails, the planks might be
secured to the ribs with tree-nails or wooden pegs. "Ya, ya!" exclaimed
the brave skipper for the hundredth time; "where there's a will there's
a way. We will do it, we will do it; never fear." His confidence
raised all our spirits.

The day drew on, but the two natives did not appear, and we began to
fear that they must have met with some accident, or lost their way. One
thing was certain, we should have to spend another night on our log,
instead of, as we had hoped, on dry ground under the shelter of leafy
huts, which we had proposed building. My father's great wish, for
Marian's sake, was to return as soon as possible to civilised parts. He
said something to that effect.

"Oh, don't think about me, papa," exclaimed Marian; "I really enjoy this
sort of life; only I hope that we shall not meet with another anaconda,
or boa, or any of those venomous serpents which are said to frequent
this region."

"I trust indeed that we shall not, my child," said our father; "but
there are other dangers I fear for you, though I pray that you may be
preserved from them also."

"We will not talk of dangers nor of difficulties," observed Uncle Paul;
"the great thing is to face them bravely when they come."

My father remarked that it was time to return to our log, and to make
arrangements for passing the night while there was daylight, as we
should find the darkness much greater under the shelter of the trees
than we had found it in the open part of the river.

I had just got on my feet and was looking up the stream, when I observed
a bright light burst forth from among the trees at a considerable
distance. I called the attention of Uncle Paul to it, who was sitting
near me. He also got up and looked in the direction to which I pointed.

"It must be produced by a fire," he observed. "It is either just
kindled on the branches of some high tree or else on ground rising
considerably above the stream. Can Kallolo and Maco have got there and
kindled it as a signal to us? For my part, I