The Amazon River
The sun set behind the hills on the western shore of the lake. The belt of light along the tops of the hills on the eastern side narrowed and narrowed, and at last was gone. The wind dropped. The islands off Rio were reflected in still water.
“This will never do,” said Captain John. “It may be dark before the wind comes again. We’d better slip across to the western shore and row along it. Even if they are watching they won’t see us now if we keep close to the land.”
“They’ll take us for a fisherman,” said Susan.
“Except for the mast,” said John. “But we can take it down. Anyhow, we shall be sheltered nearly all the way if we come along that side of the lake. I bet they won’t see us at all. And if the wind doesn’t come again, we shall be too late to see things by the time we get into the river.”
“Come on,” said Susan.
“May I row?” said the Boy Roger.
It had been a long wait among the islands, and they were all glad to be moving again at last. In the morning the fair wind had brought them fast from Wild Cat Island down to Rio Bay. They had cruised in and out among the islands, and made sure that the Amazons were not lurking among them, waiting for their chance to capture the island once again. They had made sure that the Amazon was still in the Amazon River, so that the plan was working out just as they had hoped, and they would be