CHAPTER 44
‘I don’t think they spoke together again. The boat entered a narrow by-channel, where it was pushed by the oar-blades set into crumbling banks, and there was a gloom as if enormous black wings had been outspread above the mist that filled its depth to the summits of the trees. The branches overhead showered big drops through the gloomy fog. At a mutter from Cornelius, Brown ordered his men to load. “I’ll give you a chance to get even with them before we’re done, you dismal cripples, you,” he said to his gang. “Mind you don’t throw it away—you hounds.” Low growls answered that speech. Cornelius showed much fussy concern for the safety of his canoe.
‘Meantime Tamb’ Itam had reached the end of his journey. The fog had delayed him a little, but he had paddled steadily, keeping in
