www.freeclassicebooks.com

Chapter 7

We stood there, grouped about the body of the dead Grabritin, looking futilely

down the river to where it made an abrupt curve to the west, a quarter of a mile

below us, and was lost to sight, as though we expected to see the truant

returning to us with our precious launch--the thing that meant life or death to us

in this unfriendly, savage world.

I felt, rather than saw, Taylor turn his eyes slowly toward my profile, and, as

mine swung to meet them, the expression upon his face recalled me to my duty

and responsibility as an officer.

The utter hopelessness that was reflected in his face must have been the

counterpart of what I myself felt, but in that brief instant I determined to hide my

own misgivings that I might bolster up the courage of the others.

We are lost!" was written as plainly upon Taylor's face as though his features

were the printed words upon an open book. He was thinking of the launch, and

of the launch alone. Was I? I tried to think that I was. But a greater grief than

the loss of the launch could have engendered in me, filled my heart--a sullen,

gnawing misery which I tried to deny--which I refused to admit--but which

persisted in obsessing me until my heart rose and filled my throat, and I could

not speak when I would have uttered words of reassurance to my companions.

And then rage came to my relief--rage against the vile traitor who had deserted

three of his fellow countrymen in so frightful a position. I tried to feel an equal

rage against the woman, but somehow I could not, and kept searching for

excuses for her--her youth, her inexperience, her savagery.

My rising anger swept away my temporary helplessness. I smiled, and told Taylor

not to look so glum.

"We will follow them," I said, "and the chances are that we shall overtake them.

They will not travel as rapidly as Snider probably hopes. He will be forced to halt

for fuel and for food, and the launch must follow the windings of the river; we can

take short cuts while they are traversing the detour. I have my map--thank God!

I always carry it upon my person--and with that and the compass we will have an

advantage over them."

My words seemed to cheer them both, and they were for starting off at once in

pursuit. There was no reason why we should delay, and we set forth down the

river. As we tramped along, we discussed a question that was uppermost in the

mind of each--what we should do with Snider when we had captured him, for

The Lost Continent