But she was not called upon to answer, for Mr.Flushing now exclaimed "There!" They looked at the hut on the bank, a desolate place with a large rent in the roof, and the ground round it yellow, scarred with fires and scattered with rusty open tins.
"Did they find his dead body there ?" Mrs.Flushing exclaimed, leaning forward in her eagerness to see the spot where the explorer had died.
"They found his body and his skins and a notebook," her husband replied.
But the boat had soon carried them on and left the place behind.
It was so hot that they scarcely moved, except now to change a foot, or, again, to strike a match.

Their eyes, concentrated upon the bank, were full of the same green reflections, and their lips were slightly pressed together as though the sights they were passing gave rise to thoughts, save that Hirst's lips moved intermittently as half consciously he sought rhymes for God.

Whatever the thoughts of the others, no one said anything for a considerable space.

They had grown so accustomed to the wall of trees on either side that they looked up with a start when the light suddenly widened out and the trees came to an end.
"It almost reminds one of an English park," said Mr.Flushing.
Indeed no change could have been greater.

On both banks of the river lay an open lawn-like space, grass covered and planted, for the gentleness and order of the place suggested human care, with graceful trees on the top of little mounds.