and the galatea goes
down, leaving her crew to perish miserably in the midst of a gloomy
wilderness of wood and water. Many strange tales are told of such
mishaps; but up to the present hour none have received the permanent
record of print and paper.

Be it _our_ task to supply this deficiency.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE ECHENTE.

It would not be true to say that the crew of the galatea were up with
the sun. There was no sun to shine upon the gloomy scene that revealed
itself next morning. Instead, there was a fog almost thick enough to be
grasped with the hand. They were astir, however, by the earliest
appearance of day; for the captain of the galatea was too anxious about
his "stranded" craft to lie late abed.

They had no difficulty in getting the vessel afloat. A strong pull at
the branches of the sapucaya, and then an adroit use of the paddles,
carried the craft clear.

But what was the profit of this? Once out in the open water, they were
as badly off as ever. Not one of them had the slightest idea of the
direction they would take, even supposing they could find a clear course
in any direction! A consultation was the result, in which all hands
took part, though it was evident that, after the patron, most deference
was paid to the Mundurucu. The young Paraense stood next in the scale of
respect; while Tipperary Tom, beyond the account which he was called
upon to give of his steersmanship, was not permitted to mingle his
Hibernian brogue in the discussion.

Where was the river? That was the first problem to be solved, and of
this there appeared to be no possible solution. There was no sun to
guide them; no visible sky. Even had there been both, it would scarce
have mended the matter. The steersman could not tell whether, on
straying from the channel, he had drifted to the south or the north, the
east or the west; and, indeed, an intellect less obtuse than that of
Tipperary Tom might have been puzzled upon the point. It has been
already mentioned, that the Solimoes is so tortuous as to turn to every
point of the compass in its slow course. The mere fact that the moon was
shining at the time could be of little use to Tipperary Tom, whose
astronomy had never extended beyond the knowledge that there was a moon.

Where lay the river? The interrogatory was repeated a score of times,
without receiving a satisfactory answer; though every one on board--the
little Rosita excepted--ventured some sort of reply, most, howe