to account for John's
non-appearance.

"He must certainly have gone further than he intended," observed Arthur;
"then, not having the sun to guide him, must have taken a wrong
direction. He will probably climb up into some tree to sleep, and when
the sun rises in the morning he will easily find his way back."

"Oh, thank you, Arthur, for suggesting that!" said Ellen; "I am sure it
must be so."

"At all events," I said, "we will start away at daybreak to look for
him; and with our young Indian friend as a guide, we need have no fear
in venturing into the forest."

We had none of us much appetite for supper, but Domingos persuaded us to
take some. We then made up a fire, intending to keep watch during the
night, hoping every moment that John might return. Domingos, however,
at length persuaded Arthur and I to lie down in our hammocks; indeed, in
spite of our anxiety, in consequence of the fatigue we had gone through
during the day, we could with difficulty keep our eyes open. He made
Duppo get into his, saying that he himself would keep watch. Every now
and then I awoke, hoping to hear John's cheery voice. Each time I
looked out I saw our faithful Domingos sitting before the fire, busying
himself in throwing sticks on it to keep it blazing brightly.
Occasionally I observed him get up, go to a little distance, and stretch
out his neck into the darkness. Then he would come back again and take
his seat as before, while the various tones of croaking frogs, or huge
crickets, or the fearful howls of the night-monkeys, which came, now
from one direction, now from another, from the far-off depths of the
forest, sounded as if they were keeping up a conversation among
themselves. This dismal noise continued throughout the night.

At daylight Arthur and I leaped from our hammocks, and roused up young
Duppo. We tried to explain to him that one of our number had gone away,
and that we wanted to go in search of him.

"Stay!" exclaimed Domingos; "you must not go without breakfast. I have
been boiling the cocoa, and I will soon roast some paca."

While we were breakfasting, Ellen and Maria came out of their hut.
Ellen looked very pale and anxious, as if she had passed a sleepless
night; and she confessed that she had not closed her eyes for thinking
of John, and what might have become of him. We were doubtful about
taking True; but when he saw us preparing to start, he ran off, and
would not return, for fear of being t