I
hope in God it may be as safe from calentures and fevers."
"Beggars must not be choosers," said Amyas. So in they went.
They towed the ship up about half-a-mile to a point where she could not
be seen from the seaward; and there moored her to the mangrove-stems.
Amyas ordered a boat out, and went up the river himself to reconnoitre.
He rowed some three miles, till the river narrowed suddenly, and was all
but covered in by the interlacing boughs of mighty trees. There was no
sign that man had been there since the making of the world.
He dropped down the stream again, thoughtfully and sadly. How many years
ago was it that he passed this river's mouth? Three days. And yet how
much had passed in them! Don Guzman found and lost--Rose found and
lost--a great victory gained, and yet lost--perhaps his ship lost--above
all, his brother lost.
Lost! O God, how should he find his brother?
Some strange bird out of the woods made mournful answer--"Never, never,
never!"
How should he face his mother?
"Never, never, never!" wailed the bird again; and Amyas smiled bitterly,
and said "Never!" likewise.
The night mist began to steam and wreathe upon the foul beer-colored
stream. The loathy floor of liquid mud lay bare beneath the mangrove
forest.
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