m his severe
fright. "It makes me think of white-bait dinners at Greenwich. I dined
there two days before I sailed for Africa."

"And you will dine there again, many a time," replied the colonel.
"Only keep up your spirits, Ashby."

"I hope so, I'm sure," groaned Sir Arthur, with a dismal shake of the
head that belied his words.

Meanwhile Guy had been preparing the lines, and handing one to the
Greek, they cast them in the eddy below the island. In less than five
minutes Guy landed a trumpet, a fish of a deep purple color, a foot in
length. Canaris hauled one out at the same time, and within an hour they
had caught more than a dozen, all of the same species and of about the
same length.

"We'll take them along with us," said Guy. "We may find driftwood enough
to build a fire and cook them."

"And if we don't find any," cried Canaris, "we can cook them by holding
them in the flame of the torch."

CHAPTER XXIV.

SIR ARTHUR WAKES AT THE RIGHT TIME.

At this point Forbes positively insisted on getting up, and, in spite of
the slight dampness that still lingered about his clothes, he pulled
them on and announced himself ready to start. All were glad to leave the
spot which was connected with such a horrible event, and soon the island
was far in the rear.

The second stage of the journey was monotonous and uneventful. A few
slight rapids were encountered, but for the most part the river was
swift and smooth.

The character of the shores now began to change, and instead of the
sharp ledges falling sheer to the water, sandy beaches skirted the edge,
and from the canoes they could make out gloomy holes and passages that
pierced the sides of the cavern.

They were strongly tempted at times to stop and explore these unknown
mysteries, but the reflection that every moment thus wasted would
prolong their stay on this underground stream always checked the
impulse.

A flat, rocky ledge served for their next resting-place. It extended
back ten yards to a steep wall of rock, and here, in a hollow cavity,
Canaris found a mass of driftwood that was dry enough to burn.

The fish were cooked rudely over a fire, but without salt they were
unpalatable and no one cared to eat them.

The luxury of a camp fire was enjoyed while they slept, and, although no
watch was kept, the night--if night it really was--passed without alarm.

Colonel Carrington had managed to retain d