go to sleep.
The fire was still burning brightly. I looked down from my hammock.
There was True sleeping tranquilly below me, as my companions were,
around. When I looked away from the fire into the forest, I was struck
by the unusual darkness. Not a ray of light appeared to come from the
sky, which was still covered with a thick mantle of clouds. I succeeded
at last in dropping off to sleep. How long my eyes had been closed I
could not tell, when I heard True uttering a low bark. I could just see
him running to the edge of the hut, and looking out towards the river.
I sprang from my hammock, calling to my companions. They were on foot
in a moment; but the darkness, was so great that we could see nothing
beyond a few feet from where we stood. As we sprang up, True rushed
forward. We heard him barking away in front of us. The fire was out,
and with difficulty we found our way back. I called to True, and at
last he returned, but we were still unable to discover any cause for
alarm. After a time we agreed that the wisest thing we could do would
be to turn into our hammocks again. I scolded True for alarming us so
needlessly, and he came back and lay down in his usual place. The night
passed away without any other disturbance.

When we arose in the morning the wind had ceased, the clouds had cleared
away, and the weather was as fine as usual. Getting up, we prepared
breakfast, and agreed to continue our voyage as soon as it was over. As
we had sufficient provisions, there was no necessity to search for any.
We therefore remained at our camp till our meal was over. John was the
first to take up a load and proceed with it down to the canoe. I
followed. When still at a little distance, I heard him utter an
exclamation of dismay. He turned back, and I saw by his countenance
that there was something wrong. Now he looked up the igarape, now down.

"Harry," he exclaimed, "I cannot see the canoe!"

"You must have mistaken the spot where I left it," I answered. "I
secured it well."

I returned with him to the bank. In vain we searched up and down the
banks of the water-path. Not a trace of the canoe did we discover.

"She must have broken adrift, then, during the night," I observed.
"Perhaps she has driven up the igarape."

"I will go one way and you the other, then," said John.

I made my way as well as I could through the tangled wood from the
river, while John went towards it. Wherever I could, I