I said.

"Yes, my boy; but I want to get up into the interior, and we must find a
road."

"A road means civilisation," I said.

"Ah! but I mean one of Nature's roads--a river. Sooner or later we
shall find one up which we can sail, and when that is no longer possible
we must row or pole."

"Then we shall find the advantage, uncle, of having a little crew, and--
what's the matter now?"

I stared in astonishment, for the minute before Pete and the carpenter
were busy feeding the fire and trying to get the kettle they had swung,
gypsy fashion, on three bamboos, to boil. Now they were both crawling
towards us on all-fours, Pete getting over the ground like a dog.

"It's all over, Master Nat, and good-bye if yer never sees us again.
It's Robinson Crusoe out in the woods now."

"Why, Bill," I said, "has he gone mad?"

"Pretty nigh, sir. Look."

"Look at what?"

"Steamer, sir, found the boat, I s'pose, and they're coming round the
point to pick us up. Good luck to you, gentlemen, and good-bye."

He plunged after Pete into the bed of the stream, and they disappeared
in the jungle, just as the steamer in full sail and close in came
gliding into our sight, towing a boat astern.

CHAPTER SIX.

A FALSE ALARM.

"It looks bad for them, poor fellows!" said my uncle, shading his eyes
to gaze seaward. "The captain means to have them back."

"Nonsense! uncle," I said; "it's a false alarm. That's not our ship."

"Not our ship?" he cried, springing up. "Of course it's not. And
whatever she is those on board don't see us."

We stood watching for a few minutes before I ran to the boat and got the
glass out of the locker to have a good look.

"Well, what do you make of her?" said my uncle.

"I don't know what she is," I said; "but there are only two people on
deck--one forward and the other leaning half asleep over the wheel.
Here, I'll go and call those two back."

"You'd call in vain," said my uncle, as I replaced the glass in the
case. "They're beyond earshot, and you could not find them."

"What are we to do then, uncle?" I said.

"Have breakfast, my boy. I want mine."

"But those two poor fellows?"

"Well, they took fright, Nat. A guilty conscience needs no accuser.
They had run from their ship, and the sight of one was enough to make
them feel that they were being sought."

"But we ought to do something, uncle," I said.

"We can't do anything but wait, my lad," he replied. "There, don'