In the jungle vegetation that overgrew what had once been the main
village street lay the body of a black man, pierced through the
heart with a bullet, and still warm. Baynes and his companion
looked about in all directions; but no sign of living being could
they discover. They stood in silence listening intently.
What was that! Voices and the dip of paddles out upon the river?
Baynes ran across the dead village toward the fringe of jungle
upon the river's brim. The black was at his side. Together they
forced their way through the screening foliage until they could
obtain a view of the river, and there, almost to the other shore,
they saw Malbihn's canoes making rapidly for camp. The black
recognized his companions immediately.
"How can we cross?" asked Baynes.
The black shook his head. There was no canoe and the crocodiles
made it equivalent to suicide to enter the water in an attempt
to swim across. Just then the fellow chanced to glance downward.
Beneath him, wedged among the branches of a tree, lay the canoe
in which Meriem had escaped. The Negro grasped Baynes' arm and
pointed toward his find.
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