Their skins were clammy, their eyes were heavy, and their limbs languid.

Mr.Hume was glad to sit down, and even Muata showed the effect of the muggy atmosphere in a dulling of his skin.

The river-man, sullen and silent, was alone apparently unaffected; but they did not reckon him one of the party, for no one of them had broken through his apathy.
Muata began patiently to make casts in that labyrinth that seemed to hold no living thing but themselves, and as he went slowly through the undergrowth, the boys went off to sleep, from which they awoke, heavy and unrefreshed, at the cry to "fall in." The trail had been recovered fifty yards further on, the intervening ground having been covered apparently by the cannibals without leaving a sign.

Venning blundered on a little way before he discovered that he had left his bundle behind.
"I'll wait for you," said Compton, sitting down on a tree-stump, while Mr.Hume, who had left his position in the rear to consult with Muata, had his back turned.
Venning recovered his bundle, and turned to retrace his steps, but for the time his heavy eyes were no longer faithful guides, and, instead of taking the right direction, he entered a likely looking opening through the trees to the left and hurried on.

When he had covered a distance that should have brought him to Compton, he stopped.
"Halloa! halloa!" he cried.
There was no answer.
"Compton! I say, no larks.