As on the previous day darkness came without the two American sailors, so
now it came without the Englishman, and in the morning he had not
returned. Of course, every mind was filled with anxiety in regard to the
three sailors, but Captain Horn's soul was racked with apprehensions of
which he did not speak. The conviction forced itself upon him that the
men had been killed by wild beasts. He could imagine no other reason why
Davis should not have returned. He had been ordered not to leave the
beach, and, therefore, could not lose his way. He was a wary, careful
man, used to exploring rough country, and he was not likely to take any
chances of disabling himself by a fall while on such an expedition.

Although he knew that the great jaguar was found in Peru, as well as
the puma and black bear, the captain had not supposed it likely that
any of these creatures frequented the barren western slopes of the
mountains, but he now reflected that there were lions in the deserts of
Africa, and that the beasts of prey in South America might also be
found in its deserts.

A great responsibility now rested upon Captain Horn. He was the only man
left in camp who could be depended upon as a defender,--for Maka was
known to be a coward, and Ralph was only a boy,--and it was with a
shrinking of the heart that he asked himself what would be the
consequences if a couple of jaguars or other ferocious beasts were to
appear upon that unprotected plateau in the night, or even in the
daytime. He had two guns, but he was only one man. These thoughts were
not cheerful, but the captain's face showed no signs of alarm, or even
unusual anxiety, and, with a smile on his handsome brown countenance, he
bade the ladies good morning as if he were saluting them upon a
quarter-deck.