He must have been able to join his brig in time, after all, and found
much occupation outside, for it was in vain that Almayer looked for his
friend's speedy return. The lower reach of the river where he so often
and so impatiently directed his eyes remained deserted, save for the
rapid flitting of some fishing canoe; but down the upper reaches came
black clouds and heavy showers heralding the final setting in of the
rainy season with its thunderstorms and great floods making the river
almost impossible of ascent for native canoes.
Almayer, strolling along the muddy beach between his houses, watched
uneasily the river rising inch by inch, creeping slowly nearer to the
boats, now ready and hauled up in a row under the cover of dripping
Kajang-mats. Fortune seemed to elude his grasp, and in his weary tramp
backwards and forwards under the steady rain falling from the lowering
sky, a sort of despairing indifference took possession of him. What did
it matter? It was just his luck! Those two infernal savages, Lakamba
and Dain, induced him, with their promises of help, to spend his last
dollar in the fitting out of boats, and now one of them was gone
somewhere, and the other shut up in his stockade would give no sign of
life.
Pages:
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107