After a good deal of consideration this plan was agreed to.  The professor spent part of the night in giving directions about the preserving of his specimens, which he meant to leave at the village in charge of a man whom he had trained to assist him, while Van der Kemp with his companions lay down to snatch a little sleep before setting out on their voyage, or, as the Dyak chief persisted in calling it, their flight!

When Nigel had slept about five minutes—­as he thought—­he was awakened by Moses.

“Don’t make a noise, Massa Nadgel!  Dere may be spies in de camp for all we knows, so we mus’ git off like mice.  Canoe’s ready an’ massa waitin’; we gib you to de last momint.”

In a few minutes our hero was sleepily following the negro through the woods to the spot where the canoe was in waiting.

The night was very dark.  This was in their favour,—­at least as regarded discovery.

“But how shall we ever see to make our way down stream?” asked Nigel of the hermit in a whisper on reaching the place of embarkation.

“The current will guide us.  Besides, I have studied the river with a view to this flight.  Be careful in getting in.  Now, Moses, are you ready?”

“All right, massa.”

“Shove off, then.”

There was something so eerie in the subdued tones, and stealthy motions, and profound darkness, that Nigel could not help feeling as if they were proceeding to commit some black and criminal deed!

Floating with the current, with as little noise as possible, and having many a narrow escape of running against points of land and sandbanks, they flew swiftly towards the sea, so that dawn found them among the mud flats and the mangrove swamps.  Here they found a spot where mangrove roots and bushes formed an impenetrable screen, behind which they spent the day, chiefly in sleep, and in absolute security.

When darkness set in they again put forth, and cautiously clearing the river’s mouth, were soon far out on the open sea, which was fortunately calm at the time, the slight air that blew being in their favour.

“We are safe from pursuit now,” said Van der Kemp in a tone of satisfaction, as they paused for a breathing spell.

“O massa!” exclaimed Moses at that moment, in a voice of consternation; “we’s forgotten Spinkie!”

“So we have!” returned the hermit in a voice of regret so profound that Nigel could scarce restrain a laugh in spite of his sympathy.

But Spinkie had not forgotten himself.  Observing probably, that these night expeditions were a change in his master’s habits, he had kept an unusually watchful eye on the canoe, so that when it was put in the water, he had jumped on board unseen in the darkness, and had retired to the place where he usually slept under hatches when the canoe travelled at night.

Awakened from refreshing sleep at the sound of his name, Spinkie emerged suddenly from the stern-manhole, right under the negro’s nose, and with a sleepy “oo, oo!” gazed up into his face.