the peremptory tones of fred ashman rang out loud and clear above the roar of the rapids and caused the servants to halt at the moment the canoe was shoved into the water. they looked up with frightened expressions and awaited his approach.
"what do you mean?" he demanded as he drew near.
bippo, who was by far the brightest of the three, had shown a wonderful readiness in picking up a knowledge of the english tongue. he was so much superior in that respect to his companions, that they invariably left to him the duty of conversing with their masters.
"dey're ober dere," he replied, pointing to the other shore.
"who's over there?"
"perfess'r and long man; we seed 'em, dey motion for us to hurry ober to 'em."
this was astounding news and ashman was mystified.
"how did they get over there? and why did they leave camp?"
"don' know; seed 'em; want us hurry."
without waiting to reflect upon the strange information, and recalling that more of the natives were likely to issue from the path at any moment, the young man stepped into the canoe, and, catching up one of the paddles, lent his help in propelling the craft across the foamy xingu.
"where johns'n?" asked bippo, when the middle of the stream was reached, and without ceasing his toil with the paddle.
"the natives killed him with a poisoned spear; you will never see him again."
bippo made no reply, but communicated the startling tidings to his companions, who muttered their amazement. it was apparent that the news had added to their panic, and they bent to their task with such vigor that the boat rapidly approached the other bank.
fred was asking himself, that if his friends had managed to get across the river, why it was they were not in sight. he scrutinized the dark forest and the line of moonlit space in the expectation, of seeing them come forth to welcome him, but not a soul was in sight.
he did not know what to make of it. there was something so uncanny about the whole business, that a strange distrust and uneasiness took possession of him. it could not be that the natives had deceived him and were anxious to place the xingu between them and the fierce savages who had handled the whites so roughly. bippo and his comrades had shown a loyalty from the first which gave their employers the fullest confidence in them.
the canoe was almost against the bank, where something of the bewilderment of ashman seemed to enter the head of bippo. he spoke to his companions and the three ceased paddling. ashman had done so a moment before and was scanning the bank with a searching but vain scrutiny.
"you must have been mistaken," he said in a low voice; "they could not have swam the river and they had no other way of crossing."
"we seed 'em—motion dat way," and the native beckoned with his right arm, just as a person would do when signaling another to approach.
"i can't understand it," replied ashman, with a shake of his head.
his doubts were confirmed, when he recalled that the professor and jared long had gone up the bank of the river with the purpose of learning the extent of the rapids. it followed, therefore, that if they had made their way to the other shore, it must have been at a point so far above the angry waters that there was no danger of being caught in the furious current.
he was turning over these troublous thoughts, when bippo, who was facing the bank they had left, uttered an expression of dismay and extended his arm toward the shore behind them.
ashman turned his head, and there in the moonlight he saw professor grimcke and the new englander standing on the land and motioning to them to return.
"yes—dat de way he do—he move arm like dat," said bippo; "we hurry to go to him, den he ain't here—but dere."
ashman could not doubt that the servant believed the extraordinary assertion he had just made, and such being the case, the startling truth was manifest; they had seen two strangers whom they mistook for their own friends, and these strangers had beckoned them to paddle the canoe to the other shore where they were awaiting them.
if such were the fact—and he did not doubt it—a new mystery confronted him.
who were the white men and strangers? and why had they disappeared when approached by the canoe and its occupants?
ashman ordered the servants to turn the craft about and return to the shore they had left with all speed. while doing so, and while grimcke and long were doubtless wondering what had got into the heads of the others, the young man wrought himself into a most uncomfortable condition of mind.
he questioned bippo more particularly as to the appearance and actions of the strangers. it was clear that he, as well as the other two, still believed the couple on the opposite bank were grimcke and long; though when reminded that it was impossible that they could have crossed and recrossed the stream in such a brief time, and without any means except that of swimming, they only shook their heads, signifying that, though they could not explain that feature of the strange business, they would not yield their belief.
ashman asked further, directing his question to each of the natives in turn, whether they saw the parties plainly enough to make sure they were white men. the servants were positive on this point, adding the distracting statement that they were dressed precisely like the two absent members of the little company, and that each carried a rifle as they did.
"same ones—same ones; don't know how cross riber, but allee same do so," repeated bippo, with a grin.
by this time the swiftly moving canoe was well on the way to the camp which it had left so abruptly, and, a minute later, ashman sprang out and grasped the hand of each of his friends in turn.
in a few words he explained the extraordinary incidents of the last half hour, receiving in return the story of the experience of the professor and his companion. the latter were deeply touched by the loss of johnston. danger tends to draw the members of a party closely together, and, despite the peculiar disposition of the sailor, the three felt a deep attachment for him. they would have faced any danger in his behalf, but the time had passed for that, and they could only mourn the loss of such a valuable comrade.
"but what about this story that bippo tells?"
before a reply could be made, the native approached, with his peculiar grin.
"how you cross riber?—why you come back 'gin? why you no stay ober dere when we hurry to go to you?"
"bippo, you are mistaken," replied the professor, with all the earnestness at his command. "we went up this side of the stream, and have not been on the other side since dark. when we came back and saw that you were not in the camp, we thought you had all been killed."
the native grinned more than ever, and shook his head.
"de purfes'r funny man—he make laugh." and he walked back to his companions with an unshakeable belief in the story given to fred ashman when he dashed in such excitement from the wood.
"bippo believes what he has told us," said long, who had studied the fellow closely; "and it follows that he and the others did see a couple of white men."
"i imagined," remarked grimcke with something like regret in his tones, "that we were the first of our race to reach this spot; but it is hard in these days to find any place on the globe where some white person had not been before us."
"if there are a couple of them over there," said ashman, scanning the opposite bank, "they ought to be friends; and, after signaling to our servants to cross, it is inexplainable that they should withdraw from sight as they did."
"we can depend on one thing," added the professor; "we haven't seen the last of them. i would be glad to believe them friends, but their actions are unsatisfactory. i am inclined to think that the cause of their withdrawing was your entrance into the canoe. for some reason they wished to have nothing to do with any of us."
"it may be that since we are suspicious of them," said fred, "they feel the same toward us, and are unwilling to make our acquaintance until after reconnoiterin' us. helloa! what's up now?"
this question was caused by the action of bippo, who, trembling in every limb, and with the appearance of a person overcome with terror, pointed to the forest behind them.