t will do for firewood," said Guy. "We won't have to travel in the
dark any more."

"Yes, yes; build a fire," said Sir Arthur feebly, sitting up among the
rugs. "I'm cold, Chutney; icy cold. Have we come to the end of the
cavern yet?"

"He seems a little better," whispered the colonel, coming close up to
Guy. "Do you know, Chutney, I've been thinking for the last hour that we
must surely be near the end of the river. Since first we entered this
cavern we have traveled eight hundred miles. Calculate the rate of speed
at which the current flows, and you must see that I am right. Moreover,
we cannot be very far beneath the surface of the earth. Those lions do
not dwell in the cavern. They only came down for water."

"I believe you are right," said Guy. "Two more days will tell. If we
don't reach the open air in that time--well, it won't matter after that
whether we reach it or not. I can hardly stand on my feet, and as for
the torments of hunger, I need not speak of that. You know them
yourself."

"Yes, I do indeed know what it is," said the colonel bitterly, "but we
must endure it a while longer. For myself I do not care so much, but Sir
Arthur is in a bad way, and as for Bildad, we may have to bind him hand
and foot. He sleeps now, but no one can tell what he may do when he
awakes."

"We will watch him closely," said Guy. "Canaris is splitting up the
canoe for firewood, and it will no longer be necessary to travel in
darkness."

"See!" cried the Greek, pausing with uplifted axe. "The shores have
disappeared. Has the river become wide or is this another lake?"

"There is still a strong current," said Guy. "The channel has suddenly
become broad. That is all."

A cheerful fire was soon blazing, and the ruddy reflection stained the
water far and near, as the raft drifted on with the current. Sir Arthur
fell asleep again, and Bildad lay among the rugs as one dead, glutted
with his savage feast, and his lips and hands still red with clotted
blood.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

BILDAD TURNS CANNIBAL.

All through that day--for such we shall call it--they floated on
without a single glimpse of the shores, though a good current still
existed.

Their sufferings had now reached a point that was almost unendurable.
The emptiness at the stomach and the pangs of hunger had given way to
the fierce pains and the appalling weakness that come to those perishing
of starvati