Even had water travel been easier, it could not have been long continued--perhaps not beyond a single day; and it was not deemed worth while to bring the pinnace with them.

So thought the captain, and the others agreeing, the boat was left where they had long since concealed her--under the banyan-tree.
The captain's conjectures proved correct.

The evening of the first day's march brought them to the base of the mountain-ridge, down whose rocky flank the stream poured with the strength and velocity of a torrent.

No boat could have further ascended it.
As the path leading along its edge, and hitherto comparatively level and smooth, now changed to a difficult ascent up a rough rock-strewn ravine, they encamped at the mountain-foot for the first night of their journey.
Next day was spent in ascending the mountain; following the ravine up to its head, where were found the sources of the stream.

Staying only for a short noon-tide rest, they kept upward, and reached the highest point of the ridge just as the sun was again sinking into the depths of the forest before them.
At their camping-place on the second night no water was near; and they might have suffered from the want of it, had they not taken the precaution to provide against such a deficiency.