not starve, you see."

Although my father and Uncle Paul would much rather have landed at once,
they could not insist on the skipper going out of his course, and they
accordingly agreed to his proposal.

We had been rowing on for some time, the calm still continuing, when I
saw Peter the mate eagerly looking out ahead. Springing up on heel of
the bowsprit, he cried out, "Land ho! We shall soon be within the mouth
of the river."

"Faith, it's curious land now," exclaimed Tim. "My eyes can only make
out a row of bushes floating on the top of the sea."

"We shall find that they are pretty tall trees, by the time we get near
them," observed Peter.

All hands now took to the sweeps, and made the sloop walk through the
water at the rate of three or four miles an hour. Still the current,
which was running out pretty swiftly, would have prevented us from
entering, had not a breeze sprung up. Sail was made immediately, and at
length we found ourselves entering one of the many mouths of the mighty
Orinoco, with mangrove-covered islands on either side. There was
nothing either picturesque or imposing in the scenery, except the great
width of the river. As we advanced, however, we caught faint glimpses
of high mountains rising to the southward. Not a sail dotted the vast
expanse, but now and then we saw native canoes paddling close to the
wood-covered shore, though none of them came near us. The intention of
our skipper was not to delay longer at the mouth of the river than to
obtain provisions, but to proceed at once some hundred miles or so, to
the district where the natives with whom he proposed trading resided.
We had to keep the lead going, with a bright lookout ahead, to prevent
the risk of running on any of the numerous shoals and sandbanks which
impeded the navigation; and at length darkness compelled us to bring up
and furl the sail, for it would have been dangerous to proceed on during
the night without a pilot who was intimately acquainted with the
channel.

I was awakened during the night by a loud rushing sound, and on going on
deck I found the captain and mate anxiously watching the cable.

"What is the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing as yet," was the reply; "but we shall be fortunate if our
anchor holds, and we are saved from being carried down the stream. The
river has risen considerably since we entered, and a strong current is
coming down from the interior."

Happily our anchor did hold. The sk