he observed. "We
know not what may occur."

As we saw no signs of inhabitants, we did not expect to be visited
either by friends or foes; still, had the latter appeared, they might
have been tempted to come on board from seeing but few people on the
vessel's deck.

Night came on, and the Indians not having returned, we began at length
to grow anxious about them. The gale had not abated, and we thought
that, knowing we should not move, they had been induced to go further
than they had intended. They would not desert us--of that we were very
sure; indeed, both Kallolo and Maco had their families residing in the
neighbourhood of Stabroek, and were anxious to return to them. Half of
our party kept watch at night, while the rest lay down, ready to start
up in a moment.

Towards morning the wind began to decrease, and the skipper did not
conceal his vexation at the non-appearance of the Indians. "If the wind
becomes fair, we must sail and leave them behind," he exclaimed. "They
ought to have known better than to go so far away."

Uncle Paul, however, tried to excuse them, and expressed his belief that
they would not intentionally have delayed returning. "The wind has not
yet gone down or changed," he said; "and as we cannot possibly sail,
Kallolo, who knows this, sees that it is not absolutely necessary to
return. Let us wait patiently; they will come back before long."

The sun arose; the clouds dispersed, but still the wind blew against us.
After an hour or more had passed, however, on looking out we perceived
that the tree-tops no longer waved; and on glancing across the river we
found that its surface, hitherto broken into foaming waves, had become
perfectly calm.

"The wind is about to change, and we ought to have been out of this
place," exclaimed the skipper. "We must get up the anchor and row off
into the channel. The fellows will have a longer swim, that's all."

"You would not desert them, surely," said Uncle Paul.

"Well, I should be sorry to do so. We will wait a bit, and see if they
come. I hope nothing has happened to the poor men," said the
kind-hearted skipper, who had never really intended to leave the Indians
behind, and whose anger had now given way to anxiety on their account.
He even proposed sending Sambo on shore to try and discover what had
become of them; but Uncle Paul dissuaded him from this, as, had they
been taken prisoners, or got into any other difficulty, the black would