Roland was very calm, even to seeming carelessness.

"We are on the war-path at present, my friend," he said very quietly.

"You are suspected of one of the most horrible crimes that felon ever perpetrated, that of procuring the abduction of Miss St. Clair and handing her over to savages."

"As Heaven is above us," cried Peter, "I am guiltless of that!"

"Hush!" roared Roland, "why take the sacred name of Heaven within your vile lips. Were you not about to die, I would strike you where you stand."

"To die, Mr. Roland? You--you--you surely don't mean--"

Roland placed a whistle to his lips, and its sound brought six stern men to his side.

"Bind that man's hands behind his back and hang him to yonder tree," was the order.

In two minutes' time the man was pinioned and the noose dangling over his head.

As he stood there, arrayed but in shirt and trousers, pale and trembling, with the cold sweat on his brow, it would have been difficult even to imagine a more distressing and pitiable sight.

His teeth chattered in his head, and he swayed about as if every moment about to fall.

A man advanced, and was about to place the noose around his neck when:

"A moment, one little moment!" cried Peter. "Sir--Mr. St. Clair--I did mean to take your favourite dog's life."

"And Miss St. Clair?"

"I am innocent. If--I am to be lynched--for--that--you have the blood of a guiltless man on your head."

d.i.c.k Temple had seen enough. He advanced now to Peter's side.

"Your crime deserves lynching," he said, "but I will intercede for you if you promise me sacredly you will never attempt revenge again. If you do, as sure as fate you shall swing."

"I promise--Oh--I promise!"

d.i.c.k retired, and after a few minutes' conversation with Roland, the wretched man was set free.

_Entre nous_, reader, Roland had never really meant to lynch the man.

But so utterly nerveless and broken-down was Mr. Peter now, that as soon as he was released he threw himself on the ground, crying like a child.

Even Brawn pitied him, and ran forward and actually licked the hands of the man who would have cruelly done him to death.

So n.o.ble is the nature of our friend the dog.

The voyage up-stream was now continued. But the progress of so many boats and men was necessarily slow, for all had to be provided for, and this meant spending about every alternate day in shooting, fishing, and collecting fruit and nuts.

The farther up-stream they got, however, the more lightsome and cheerful became the hearts of our heroes.

They began to look upon Peggy as already safe in their camp.

"I say, you know," said d.i.c.k one day, "our pa.s.sage up is all toil and trouble, but won't it be delightful coming back."

"Yes, indeed," said Roland, smiling.

"We sha'n't hurry, shall we?"

"Oh, no! poor Peggy's health must need renovating, and we must let her see all that is to be seen."

"Ye--es, of course! Certainly, Roll, and it will be all just too lovely for anything, all one deliciously delicious picnic."

"I hope so."

"Don't look quite so gloomy, Roland, old man. I tell you it is all plain sailing now. We have only to meet Benee when we get as far as the rendezvous, then strike across country, and off and away to the land of the cannibals and give them fits."

"Oh, I'm not gloomy, you know, d.i.c.k, though not quite so hopeful as you!

We have many difficulties to encounter, and there may be a lot of fighting after we get there; and, mind you, that game of giving fits is one that two can play at."

"Choorka! Choorka!" shouted the captain of the leading boat, a swarthy son of the river.

As he spoke, he pointed towards the western bank, and thither as quickly as paddles could send him his boat was hurried. For they had been well out in the centre of the river, and had reached a place where the current was strong and swift.

But closer to the bank it was more easy to row.

Nevertheless, two of the canoes ran foul of a snag. One was capsized at once, and the other stuck on top.

The 'gators here were in dozens apparently, and before the canoe could be righted two men had been dragged below, the brown stream being tinged with their gushing blood.

Both were Indians, but nevertheless their sad death cast a gloom over the hearts of everyone, which was not easily dispelled.

On again once more, still hugging the sh.o.r.e; but after dinner it was determined to stay where they were for the night.

They luckily found a fine open back-water, and this they entered and were soon snug enough.

They could not be idle, however. Food must be collected, and everything--Roland determined--must go on like clock-work, without hurry or bustle.

Soon, therefore, after the canoes were made fast, both Indians and whites were scattered far and near in the forest, on the rocks and hills, and on the rivers.

I believe that all loved the "boys", as Roland and d.i.c.k were called by the white men, and so all worked right cheerfully, laughing and singing as they did so.

Ten men besides our heroes and Burly Bill had remained behind to get the tents up and to prepare the evening meal, for everybody would return as hungry as alligators, and these gentry seem to have a most insatiable appet.i.te.

Just before sunset on this particular evening Roland and d.i.c.k had another interview with Mr. Peter.

"I should be a fool and a fraud, Mr. Peter," said the former, "were I to mince matters. Besides, it is not my way. I tell you, then, that during our journey you will have yonder little tent to yourself to eat and to sleep in. I tell you, too, that despite your declarations of innocence I still suspect you, that nevertheless no one will be more happy than Mr. Temple here and myself if you are found not guilty. But you must face the music now. You must be guarded, strictly guarded, and I wish you to know that you are. I wish to impress upon you also that your sentries have strict orders to shoot you if you are found making any insane attempt to escape. In all other respects you are a free man, and I should be very sorry indeed to rope or tie you. Now you may go."

"My time will come," said Mr. Peter meaningly.

His face was set and determined.