It is hardly too much to say that another year ought to witness the emancipation of every slave in the possession of Christian states. It seems only too likely that for years to come the Mussulman nations will continue to depopulate the continent of Africa; to them is due the chief emigration of the natives, who, torn from their provinces, are sent to the eastern coast in numbers that exceed 40,000 annually. Long before the Egyptian expedition the natives of Sennaar were sold to the natives of Darfur andvice versa; and even Napoleon Buonaparte purchased a considerable number of negroes, whom he organized into regiments after the fashion of the mamelukes. Altogether it may be affirmed, that although four-fifths of the present century have passed away, slave-traffic in Africa has been increased rather than diminished.
The truth is that Islamism really nurtures the slave-trade. In Mussulman provinces, the black slave has taken the place of the white slave of former times; dealers of the most questionable character bear their part in the execrable business, bringing a supplementary population to races which, unregenerated by their own labour, would otherwise diminish and ultimately disappear.
As in the time of Buonaparte, these slaves often become soldiers; on the Upper Niger, for instance, they still form half the army of certain chieftains, under circumstances in which their lot is hardly, if at all, inferior to that of free men. Elsewhere, where the slave is not a soldier, he counts merely as current coin; and in Bornu and even in Egypt, we are told by William Lejean, an eye-witness, that officers and other functionaries have received their pay in this form.
Such, then, appears to be the present actual condition of the slave-trade; and it is stern justice that compels the additional statement that there are representatives of certain great European powers who still favour the unholy traffic with an indulgent connivance, and whilst cruisers are watching the coasts of the Atlantic and of the Indian Ocean, kidnapping goes on regularly in the interior, caravans pass along under the very eyes of certain officials, and massacres are perpetrated in which frequently ten negroes are sacrificed in the capture of a single slave.
It was the knowledge, more or less complete, of all this, that wrung from Dick Sands his bitter and heart-rending cry:-
"We are in Africa! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!"
Too true it was that he found himself and his companions in a land fraught with such frightful peril. He could only tremble when he wondered on what part of the fatal continent the "Pilgrim" had stranded. Evidently it was at some point of the west coast, and he had every reason to fear that it was on the shores of Angola, the rendezvous for all the caravans that journey in that portion of Africa.
His conjecture was correct; he really was in the very country that a few years later and with gigantic effort was to be traversed by Cameron in the south and Stanley in the north. Of the vast territory, with its three provinces, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, little was then known except the coast. It extends from the Zaire on the north to the Nourse on the south, and its chief towns are the ports of Benguela and of St. Paul de Loanda, the capital of the colony, which is a dependency of the kingdom of Portugal. The interior of the country had been almost entirely unexplored. Very few were the travellers who had cared to venture far inland, for an unhealthy climate, a hot, damp soil conducive to fever, a permanent warfare between the native tribes, some of which are cannibals, and the ill-feeling of the slave-dealers against any stranger who might endeavour to discover the secrets of their infamous craft, all combine to render the region one of the most hazardous in the whole of Equatorial Africa.
It was in 1816 that Tuckey ascended the Congo as far as the Yellala Falls, a distance not exceeding 203 miles; but the journey was too short to give an accurate idea of the interior of the country, and moreover cost the lives of nearly all the officers and scientific men connected with the expedition.
Thirty-seven years afterwards, Dr. Livingstone had advanced from the Cape of Good Hope to the Upper Zambesi; thence, with a fearlessness hitherto unrivalled, he crossed the Coango, an affluent of the Congo, and after having traversed the continent from the extreme south to the east he reached St. Paul de Loanda on the 31st of May, 1854, the first explorer of the unknown portions of the great Portuguese colony.
Eighteen years elapsed, and two other bold travellers crossed the entire continent from east to west, and after encountering unparalleled difficulties, emerged, the one to the south, the other to the north of Angola.
The first of these was Verney Lovett Cameron, a lieutenant in the British navy. In 1872, when serious doubts were entertained as to the safety of the expedition sent out under Stanley to the relief of Livingstone in the great lake district, Lieutenant Cameron volunteered to go out in search of the noble missionary explorer. His offer was accepted, and accompanied by Dr. Dillon, Lieutenant Cecil Murphy, and Robert Moffat, a nephew of Livingstone, he started from Zanzibar. Having passed through Ugogo, he met Livingstone's corpse, which was being borne to the eastern coast by his faithful followers. Unshaken in his resolve to make his way right across the continent, Cameron still pushed onwards to the west. He passed through Unyanyembe and Uganda, and reached Kawele, where he secured all Livingstone's papers. After exploring Lake Tanganyika he crossed the mountains of Bambarre, and finding himself unable to descend the course of the Lualaba, he traversed the provinces devastated and depopulated by war and the slave-trade, Kilemba, Urua, the sources of the Lomami, Ulanda, and Lovalé, and having crossed the Coanza, he sighted the Atlantic and reached the port of St. Philip de Benguela, after a journey that had occupied three years and five months. Cameron's two companions, Dr. Dillon and Robert Moffat, both succumbed to the hardships of the expedition.
The intrepid Englishman was soon to be followed into the field by an American, Mr. Henry Moreland Stanley. It is universally known how the undaunted correspondent of theNew York Herald, having been despatched in search of Livingstone, found the veteran missionary at Ujiji, on the borders of Lake Tanganyika, on the 31st of October, 1871. But what he had undertaken in the course of humanity Stanley longed to continue in the interests of science, his prime object being to make a thorough investigation of the Lualaba, of which, in his first expedition, he had only been able to get a partial and imperfect survey. Accordingly, whilst Cameron was still deep in the provinces of Central Africa, Stanley started from Bagamoyo in November, 1874. Twenty-one months later he quitted Ujiji, which had been decimated by small-pox, and in seventy-four days accomplished the passage of the lake and reached Nyangwe, a great slave-market previously visited both by Livingstone and Cameron. He was also present at some of the horrible razzias, perpetrated by the officers of the Sultan of Zanzibar in the districts of the Marunzu and Manyuema.
In order to be in a position to descend the Lualaba to its very mouth, Stanley engaged at Nyangwe 140 porters and nineteen boats. Difficulties arose from the very outset, and not only had he to contend with the cannibals of Ugusu, but, in order to avoid many unnavigable cataracts, he had to convey his boats many miles by land. Near the equator, just at the point where the Lualaba turns north-north-west, Stanley's little convoy was attacked by a fleet of boats, manned by several hundred natives, whom, however, he succeeded in putting to flight. Nothing daunted, the resolute American pushed on to lat. 20° N. and ascertained, beyond room for doubt, that the Lualaba was really the Upper Zaire or Congo, and that, by following its course, he should come directly to the sea.
Beset with many perils was the way. Stanley was in almost daily collision with the various tribes upon the river-banks; on the 3rd of June, 1877, he lost one of his companions, Frank Pocock, at the passage of the cataracts of Massassa, and on the 18th of July he was himself carried in his boat into the Mbelo Falls, and escaped by little short of a miracle.
On the 6th of August the daring adventurer arrived at the village of Ni Sanda, only four days from the sea; two days later he received a supply of provisions that had been sent by two Emboma merchants to Banza M'buko, the little coast-town where, after a journey of two years and nine months, fraught with every kind of hardship and privation, he completed his transit of the mighty continent. His toil told, at least temporarily, upon his years, but he had the grand satisfaction of knowing that he had traced the whole course of the Lualaba, and had ascertained, beyond reach of question, that as the Nile is the great artery of the north, and the Zambesi of the east, so Africa possesses in the west a third great river, which in a course of no less than 2900 miles, under the names of the Lualaba, Zaire, and Congo, unites the lake district with the Atlantic Ocean.
In 1873, however, the date at which the "Pilgrim" foundered upon the coast, very little was known of the province of Angola, except that it was the scene of the western slave-trade, of which the markets of Bihé, Cassanga, and Kazunde were the chief centres. This was the country in which Dick Sands now found himself, a hundred miles from shore, in charge of a lady exhausted with fatigue and anxiety, a half-dying child, and a band of negroes who would be a most tempting bait to the slave-driver.
His last illusion was completely dispelled. He had no longer the faintest hope that he was in America, that land where little was to be dreaded from either native, wild beast, or climate; he could no more cherish the fond impression that he might be in the pleasant region between the Cordilleras and the coast, where villages are numerous and missions afford hospitable shelter to every traveller. Far, far away were those provinces of Bolivia and Peru, to which (unless a criminal hand had interposed) the "Pilgrim" would certainly have sped her way. No: too truly this was the terrible province of Angola; and worse than all, not the district near the coast, under the surveillance of the Portuguese authorities, but the interior of the country, traversed only by slave caravans, driven under the lash of the havildars.
Limited, in one sense, was the knowledge that Dick Sands possessed of this land of horrors; but he had read the accounts that had been given by the missionaries of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, by the Portuguese traders who frequented the route from St. Paul de Loanda, by San Salvador to the Zaire, as well as by Dr. Livingstone in his travels in 1853, and consequently he knew enough to awaken immediate and complete despair in any spirit less indomitable than his own.
Anyhow, his position was truly appalling.
[Illustration: They were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree.]
On the day following that on which Dick Sands and his party had made their last halt in the forest, two men met by appointment at a spot about three miles distant.
The two men were Harris and Negoro, the one lately landed from New Zealand, the other pursuing his wonted occupation of slave-dealer in the province of Angola. They were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree, on the banks of a rushing torrent that streamed between tall borders of papyrus.
After the conversation had turned awhile upon the events of the last few hours, Negoro said abruptly,-
"Couldn't you manage to get that young fifteen-year-old any farther into the interior?"
"No, indeed; it was a hard matter enough to bring him thus far; for the last few days his suspicions have been wide awake."
"But just another hundred miles, you know," continued Negoro, "would have finished the business off well, and those black fellows would have been ours to a dead certainty."
"Don't I tell you, my dear fellow, that it was more than time for me to give them the slip?" replied Harris, shrugging his shoulders. "Only too well I knew that our young friend was longing to put a shot into my body, and that was a sugar-plum I might not be able to digest."
The Portuguese gave a grunt of assent, and Harris went on,-
"For several days I succeeded well enough. I managed to palm off the country as the forest of Atacama, which you may recollect I once visited; but when the youngster began to ask for gutta-percha and humming-birds, and his mother wanted quinquina-trees, and when that old fool of a cousin was bent on finding cocuyos, I was rather nonplussed. One day I had to swear that giraffes were ostriches, but the young captain did not seem to swallow the dose at all easily. Then we saw traces of elephants and hippopotamuses, which of course are as often seen in America as an honest man in a Benguela penitentiary; then that old nigger Tom discovered a lot of forks and chains left by some runaway slaves at the foot of a tree; but when, last of all, a lion roared,-and the noise, you know, is rather louder than the mewing of a cat,-I thought it was time to take my horse and decamp."
Negoro repeated his expression of regret that the whole party had not been carried another hundred miles into the province.
"It really cannot be helped," rejoined the American; "I have done the best I could; and I think, mate," he added confidentially, "that you have done wisely in following the caravan at a good distance; that dog of theirs evidently owes you a grudge, and might prove an ugly customer."
"I shall put a bullet into that beast's head before long," growled Negoro.
"Take care you don't get one through your own first," laughed Harris; "that young Sands, I warn you, is a first-rate shot, and between ourselves, is rather a fine fellow of his kind."
"Fine fellow, indeed!" sneered Negoro; "whatever he is, he is a young upstart, and I have a long score to wipe off against him;" and, as he spoke, an expression of the utmost malignity passed over his countenance.
Harris smiled.
"Well, mate," he said; "your travels have not improved your temper, I see. But come now, tell me what you have been doing all this time. When I found you just after the wreck, at the mouth of the Longa, you had only time to ask me to get this party, somehow or other, up into the country. But it is just upon two years since you left Cassange with that caravan of slaves for our old master Alvez. What have you been doing since? The last I heard of you was that you had run foul of an English cruiser, and that you were condemned to be hanged."
"So I was very nearly," muttered Negoro.
"Ah, well, that will come sooner or later," rejoined the American with philosophic indifference; "men of our trade can't expect to die quietly in our beds, you know. But were you caught by the English?"
"No, by the Portuguese."
"Before you had got rid of your cargo?"
Negoro hesitated a moment before replying.
"No," he said, presently, and added, "The Portuguese have changed their game: for a long time they carried on the trade themselves, but now they have got wonderfully particular; so I was caught, and condemned to end my days in the penitentiary at St. Paul de Loanda."
"Confound it!" exclaimed Harris, "a hundred times better be hanged!"
"I'm not so sure of that," the Portuguese replied, "for when I had been at the galleys about a fortnight I managed to escape, and got into the hold of an English steamer bound for New Zealand. I wedged myself in between a cask of water and a case of preserved meat, and so managed to exist for a month. It was close quarters, I can tell you, but I preferred to travel incognito rather than run the risk of being handed over again to the authorities at Loanda."
"Well done!" exclaimed the American, "and so you had a free passage to the land of the Maoris. But you didn't come back in the same fashion?"
"No; I always had a hankering to be here again at my old trade; but for a year and a half...."
He stopped abruptly, and grasped Harris by the arm.
"Hush," he whispered, "didn't you hear a rustling in that clump of papyrus?"
In a moment Harris had caught up his loaded gun; and both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them.
"It was nothing," said Harris presently; "the stream is swollen by the storm, that is all; your two years' travelling has made you forget the sounds of the forest, mate. Sit down again, and go on with your story. When I know the past, I shall be better able to talk about the future."
They reseated themselves, and Negoro went on,-
"For a whole year and a half I vegetated at Auckland. I left the hold of the steamer without a dollar in my pocket, and had to turn my hand to every trade imaginable in order to get a living."
"Poor fellow! I daresay you even tried the trade of being an honest man," put in the American.
"Just so," said Negoro, "and in course of time the 'Pilgrim,' the vessel by which I came here, put in at Auckland. While she was waiting to take Mrs. Weldon and her party on board, I applied to the captain for a post, for I was once mate on board a slaver, and know something of seamanship. The 'Pilgrim's' crew was complete, but fortunately the ship's cook had just deserted; I offered to supply his place; in default of better my services were accepted, and in a few days we were out of sight of New Zealand."
"I have heard something about the voyage from young Sands," said Harris, "but even now I can't understand how you reached here."
"Neither does he," said Negoro, with a malicious grin. "I will tell you now, and you may repeat the story to your young friend if you like."
"Well, go on," said Harris.
"When we started," continued Negoro, "it was my intention to sail only as far as Chili: that would have brought me nearly half way to Angola; but three weeks after leaving Auckland, Captain Hull and all his crew were lost in chasing a whale, and I and the apprentice were the only seamen left on board."
"Then why in the name of peace didn't you take command of the ship?" exclaimed Harris.
[Illustration: Both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them.]
"Because there were five strong niggers who didn't trust me; so, on second thoughts, I determined to keep my old post as cook."
"Then do you mean to say that it was mere accident that brought you to the coast of Africa?"
"Not a bit of it; the only accident,-and a very lucky one it was-was meeting you on the very spot where we stranded. But it was my doing that we got so far. Young Sands understood nothing more of navigation than the use of the log and compass. Well, one fine day, you understand, the log remained at the bottom of the sea, and one night the compass was tampered with, so that the 'Pilgrim,' scudding along before a tempest, was carried altogether out of her course. You may imagine the young captain was puzzled at the length of the voyage; it would have bewildered a more experienced head than his. Before he was aware of it, we had rounded Cape Horn; I recognized it through the mist. Then at once I put the compass to rights again, and the 'Pilgrim ' was carried north-eastwards by a tremendous hurricane to the very place I wanted. The island Dick Sands took for Easter Island was really Tristan d'Acunha."
"Good!" said Harris; "I think I understand now how our friends have been persuaded to take Angola for Bolivia. But they are undeceived now, you know," he added.
"I know all about that," replied the Portuguese.
"Then what do you intend to do?" said Harris.
"You will see," answered Negoro significantly; "but first of all tell me something about our employer, old Alvez; how is he?"
"Oh, the old rascal is well enough, and will be delighted to see you again," replied Harris.
"Is he at the market at Bihé?"
"No, he has been at his place at Kazonndé for a year or more."
"And how does business go on?"
"Badly enough, on this coast," said Harris; "plenty of slaves are waiting to be shipped to the Spanish colonies, but the difficulty is how to get them embarked. The Portuguese authorities on the one hand, and the English cruisers on the other, almost put a stop to exportation altogether; down to the south, near Mossamedes, is the only part where it can be attempted with any chance of success. To pass a caravan through Benguela or Loande is an utter impossibility; neither the governors nor the chefés
[Footnote 1: Subordinate Portuguese governors at secondary stations.] will listen to a word of reason. Old Alvez is therefore thinking of going in the other direction towards Nyangwe and Lake Tanganyika; he can there exchange his goods for slaves and ivory, and is sure to do a good business with Upper Egypt and the coast of Mozambique, which supplies Madagascar. But I tell you, Negoro," he added gravely, "I believe the time is coming when the slave-trade will come to an end altogether. The English missionaries are advancing into the interior. That fellow Livingstone, confound him! has finished his tour of the lakes, and is now working his way towards Angola; then there is another man named Cameron who is talking about crossing the continent from east to west, and it is feared that Stanley the American will do the same. All this exploration, you know, is ruinous to our business, and it is to our interest that not one of these travellers should be allowed to return to tell tales of us in Europe."
Harris spoke like a merchant embarrassed by a temporary commercial crisis. The atrocious scenes to which the slave-dealers are accustomed seems to render them impervious to all sense of justice or humanity, and they learn to regard their living merchandize with as small concern as though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogsheads of sugar.
But Harris was right when he asserted that civilization must follow the wake of the intrepid pioneers of African discovery. Livingstone first, and after him, Grant, Speke, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, are the heroes whose names will ever be linked with the first dawnings of a brighter age upon the dark wilds of Equatorial Africa.
Having ascertained that his accomplice had returned unscrupulous and daring as ever, and fully prepared to pursue his former calling as an agent of old Alvez the slave dealer, Harris inquired what he proposed doing with the survivors of the "Pilgrim" now that they were in his hands.
"Divide them into two lots," answered Negoro, without a moment's hesitation, "one for the market, the other...."
He did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his countenance was an index to the malignity of his purpose.
"Which shall you sell?" asked the American.
"The niggers, of course. The old one is not worth much, but the other four ought to fetch a good price at Kazonndé."
"Yes, you are right," said Harris; "American-born slaves, with plenty of work in them, are rare articles, and very different to the miserable wretches we get up the country. But you never told me," he added, suddenly changing the subject, "whether you found any money on board the 'Pilgrim'!"
"Oh, I rescued a few hundred dollars from the wreck, that was all," said the Portuguese carelessly; "but I am expecting...." he stopped short.
"What are you expecting?" inquired Harris eagerly.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Negoro, apparently annoyed that he had said so much, and immediately began talking of the means of securing the living prey which he had been taking so many pains to entrap. Harris informed him that on the Coanza, about ten miles distant, there was at the present time encamped a slave caravan, under the control of an Arab named Ibn Hamish; plenty of native soldiers were there on guard, and if Dick Sands and his people could only be induced to travel in that direction, their capture would be a matter of very little difficulty. He said that of course Dick Sands' first thought would naturally be how to get back to the coast; it was not likely that he would venture a second time through the forest, but would in all probability try to make his way to the nearest river, and descend its course on a raft to the sea. The nearest river was undoubtedly the Coanza, so that he and Negoro might feel quite sure of meeting "their friends" upon its banks.
"If you really think so," said Negoro, "there is not much time to be lost; whatever young Sands determines to do, he will do at once: he never lets the grass grow under his feet."
"Let us start, then, this very moment, mate," was Harris's reply.
Both rose to their feet, when they were startled by the same rustling in the papyrus which had previously aroused Negoro's fears. Presently a low growl was heard, and a large dog, showing his teeth, emerged from the bushes, evidently prepared for an attack.
"It's Dingo!" exclaimed Harris.
"Confound the brute! he shall not escape me this time," said Negoro.
He caught up Harris's gun, and raising it to his shoulder, he fired just as the dog was in the act of springing at his throat. A long whine of pain followed the report, and Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes that fringed the stream. Negoro was instantly upon his track, but could discover nothing beyond a few blood-stains upon the stalks of the papyrus, and a long crimson trail upon the pebbles on the bank.
"I think I have done for the beast now," was Negoro's remark as he returned from his fruitless search.
Harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now asked coolly,-
"What makes that animal have such an inveterate dislike to you?"
"Oh, there is an old score to settle between us," replied the Portuguese.
"What about?" inquired the American.
Negoro made no reply, and finding him evidently disinclined to be communicative on the subject, Harris did not press the matter any further.
A few moments later the two men were descending the stream, and making their way through the forest towards the Coanza.
[Illustration: Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes]
"Africa! Africa!" was the terrible word that echoed and re-echoed in the mind of Dick Sands. As he pondered over the events of the preceding weeks he could now understand why, notwithstanding the rapid progress of the ship, the land seemed ever to be receding, and why the voyage had been prolonged to twice its anticipated length. It remained, however, a mystery inexplicable as before, how and when they had rounded Cape Horn and passed into another ocean. Suddenly the idea flashed upon him that the compass must have been tampered with; and he remembered the fall of the first compass; he recalled the night when he had been roused by Tom's cry of alarm that Negoro had fallen against the binnacle. As he recollected these circumstances he became more and more convinced that it was Negoro who was the mainspring of all the mischief; that it was he who had contrived the loss of the "Pilgrim," and compromised the safety of all on board.
What had been the career, what could be the motives of a man who was capable of such vile machinations?
But shrouded in mystery as were the events of the past, the present offered a prospect equally obscure.
Beyond the fact that he was in Africa and a hundred miles from the coast, Dick knew absolutely nothing. He could only conjecture that he was in the fatal province of Angola, and assured as he was that Harris had acted the traitor, he was led to the conclusion that he and Negoro had been playing into each other's hands. The result of the collision, he feared, might be very disastrous to the survivors of the "Pilgrim." Yet, in what manner would the odious stratagem be accomplished? Dick could well understand that the negroes would be sold for slaves; he could only too easily imagine that upon himself Negoro would wreak the vengeance he had so obviously been contemplating; but for Mrs. Weldon and the other helpless members of the party what fate could be in store?
The situation was terrible, but yet Dick did not flinch; he had been appointed captain, and captain he would remain; Mrs. Weldon and her little son had been committed to his charge, and he was resolved to carry out his trust faithfully to the end.
For several hours he remained wrapped in thought, pondering over the present and the future, weighing the evil chances against the good, only to be convinced that the evil much preponderated. At length he rose, firm, resolute, calm. The first glimmer of dawn was breaking upon the forest. All the rest of the party, except Tom, were fast asleep. Dick Sands crept softly up to the old negro, and whispered:-
"Tom, you know now where we are!"
"Yes, yes, Mr. Dick, only too well I know it. We are in Africa!"
The old man sighed mournfully.
"Tom," said Dick, in the same low voice, "you must keep this a secret; you must not say a word to let Mrs. Weldon or any of the others know "
The old man murmured his assent, and Dick continued:-
"It will be quite enough for them to learn that we have been betrayed by Harris, and that we must consequently practise extra care and watchfulness; they will merely think we are taking precautions against being surprised by nomad Indians. I trust to your good sense, Tom, to assist me in this."
"You may depend upon me, Mr. Dick; and I can promise you that we will all do our best to prove our courage, and to show our devotion to your service."
[Illustration: "You must keep this a secret"]
Thus assured of Tom's co-operation, Dick proceeded to deliberate upon his future line of action. He had every reason to believe that the treacherous American, startled by the traces of the slaves and the unexpected roaring of the lion, had taken flight before he had conducted his victims to the spot where they were to be attacked, and that consequently some hours might elapse before he would be joined by Negoro, who (to judge from Dingo's strange behaviour) had undoubtedly for the last few days been somewhere on their track.
Here was a delay that might be turned to good account, and no time was to be lost in taking advantage of it to commence their return journey to the coast. If, as Dick had every reason to suppose, he was in Angola, he hoped to find, either north or south, some Portuguese settlement whence he could obtain the means of transporting his party to their several homes.
But how was this return journey to be accomplished? It would be difficult, not to say imprudent, to retrace their footsteps through the forest; it would merely bring them to their starting-point, and would, moreover, afford an easy track for Negoro or his accomplices to follow. The safest and most secret means of reaching the coast would assuredly be by descending the course of some river. This would have to be effected by constructing a strong raft, from which the little party, well armed, might defend themselves alike from attacks either of the natives or of wild beasts, and which would likewise afford a comfortable means of transport for Mrs. Weldon and her little boy, who were now deprived of the use of Harris's horse. The negroes, it is true, would be only too pleased to carry the lady on a litter of branches, but this would be to occupy the services of two out of five, and under the circumstances it was manifestly advisable that all hands should be free to act on the defensive. Another great inducement towards the plan was that Dick Sands felt himself much more at home in travelling by water than by land, and was longing to be once again upon what to him was, as it were, his native element. He little dreamt that he was devising for himself the very plan that Harris, in his speculations, had laid down for him!
The most urgent matter was now to find such a stream as would suit their purpose. Dick had several reasons for feeling sure that one existed in the neighbourhood. He knew that the little river, which fell into the Atlantic near the spot where the "Pilgrim" stranded, could not extend very far either to the north or east, because the horizon was bounded in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken for the Cordilleras. If the stream did not rise in those hills it must incline to the south, so that in either case Dick was convinced he could not be long in discovering it or one of its affluents. Another sign, which he recognized as hopeful, was that during the last few miles of the march the soil had become moist and level, whilst here and there the appearance of tiny rivulets indicated that an aqueous network existed in the subsoil. On the previous day, too, the caravan had skirted a rushing torrent, of which the waters were tinged with oxide of iron from its sloping banks.
Dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as this stream, which though not navigable itself would in all probability empty itself into some affluent of greater importance. The idea, which he imparted to Tom, met with the old negro's entire approval.
As the day dawned the sleepers, one by one, awoke. Mrs. Weldon laid little Jack in Nan's arms. The child was still dozing; the fever had abated, but he looked painfully white and exhausted after the attack.
"Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, after looking round her, "where is Mr. Harris? I cannot see him."
"Harris has left us," answered Dick very quietly.
"Do you mean that he has gone on ahead?"
"No, madam, I mean that he has left us, and gone away entirely: he is in league with Negoro."
"In league with Negoro!" cried Mrs. Weldon, "Ah, I have had a fancy lately that there has been something wrong: but why? what can be their motive?"
"Indeed I am unable to tell you," replied Dick; "I only
[Illustration: "Harris has left us"
know that we have no alternative but to return to the coast immediately if we would escape the two rascals."
"I only wish I could catch them," said Hercules, who had overheard the conversation; "I would soon knock their heads together;" and he shook his two fists in giving emphasis to his words.
"But what will become of my boy?" cried Mrs. Weldon, in tones of despondency; "I have been so sanguine in procuring him the comforts of San Felice."
"Master Jack will be all right enough, madam, when we get into a more healthy situation near the coast," said Tom.
"But is there no farm anywhere near? no village? no shelter?" she pleaded.
"None whatever, madam; I can only repeat that it is absolutely necessary that we make the best of our way back to the sea-shore."
"Are you quite sure, Dick, that Mr. Harris has deceived us?"
Dirk felt that he should be glad to avoid any discussion on the subject, but with a warning glance at Tom, he proceeded to say that on the previous night he and Tom had discovered the American's treachery, and that if he had not instantly taken to his horse and fled he would have answered for his guilt with his life. Without, however, dwelling for a moment more than he could avoid upon the past, he hurried on to detail the means by which he now proposed to reach the sea, concluding by the assertion that he hoped a very few miles' march would bring them to a stream on which they might be able to embark.
Mrs. Weldon, thoroughly ignoring her own weakness, professed her readiness not only to walk, but to carry Jack too. Bat and Austin at once volunteered to carry her in a litter; of this the lady would not hear, and bravely repeated her intention of travelling on foot, announcing her willingness to start without further delay. Dick Sands was only too glad to assent to her wish.
"Let me take Master Jack," said Hercules; "I shall be out of my element if I have nothing to carry."
The giant, without waiting for a reply, took the child from Nan's arms so gently that he did not even rouse him from his slumber.
The weapons were next carefully examined, and the provisions, having been repacked into one parcel, were consigned to the charge of Actæon, who undertook to carry them on his back.
Cousin Benedict, whose wiry limbs seemed capable of bearing any amount of fatigue, was quite ready to start. It was doubtful whether he had noticed Harris's disappearance; he was suffering from a loss which to him was of far greater importance. He had mislaid his spectacles and magnifying-glass. It had happened that Bat had picked them up in the long grass, close to the spot where the amateur naturalist had been lying, but acting on a hint from Dick Sands, he said nothing about them; in this way the entomologist, who, without his glasses could scarcely see a yard beyond his face, might be expected to be kept without trouble in the limits of the ranks, and having been placed between Actæon and Austin with strict injunctions not to leave their side, he followed them as submissively as a blind man in leading-strings.
The start was made. But scarcely had the little troop advanced fifty yards upon their way, when Tom suddenly cried out,-
"Where's Dingo?"
With all the force of his tremendous lungs, Hercules gave a series of reverberating shouts:-
"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!"
Not a bark could be distinguished in reply
"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!" again echoed in the air.
But all was silence.
Dick was intensely annoyed at the non-appearance of the dog; his presence would have been an additional safeguard in the event of any sudden surprise.
"Perhaps he has followed Harris," suggested Tom.
"Far more likely he is on the track of Negoro," rejoined Dick.
"Then Negoro, to a dead certainty," said Hercules, "will put a bullet into his head."
"It is to be hoped," replied Bat, "that Dingo will strangle him first."
Dick Sands, disguising his vexation, said,
"At any rate, we have no time to wait for the animal now: if he is alive, he will not fail to find us out. Move on, my lads! move on!"
The weather was very hot; ever since daybreak heavy clouds had been gathering upon the horizon, and it seemed hardly likely that the day would pass without a storm. Fortunately the woods were sufficiently light to ensure a certain amount of freshness to the surface of the soil. Here and there were large patches of tall, rank grass enclosed by clumps of forest trees. In some places, fossilized trunks, lying on the ground, betokened the existence of one of the coal districts that are common upon the continent of Africa. Along the glades the carpet of verdure was relieved by crimson stems and a variety of flowers; ginger-blossoms, blue and yellow, pale lobelias, and red orchids fertilized by the numerous insects that incessantly hovered about them. The trees did not grow in impenetrable masses of one species, but exhibited themselves in infinite variety. There was also a species of palm producing an oil locally much valued; there were cotton-plants growing in bushes eight or ten feet high, the cotton attached in long shreds to the ligneous stalks; and there were copals from which, pierced by the proboscis of certain insects, exudes an odorous resin that flows on to the ground and is collected by the natives. Then there were citrons and wild pomegranates and a score of other arborescent plants, all testifying to the fertility of this plateau of Central Africa. In many places, too, the air was fragrant with the odour of vanilla, though it was not possible to discover the shrub from which the perfume emanated.
In spite of it being the dry season, so that the soil had only been moistened by occasional storms, all trees and plants were flourishing in great luxuriance. It was the time of year for fever, but, according to Dr. Livingstone's observation, the disorder may generally be cured by quitting the locality where it has been contracted. Dick expressed his hope that, in little Jack's case, the words of the great traveller would be verified, and in encouragement of this sanguine view, pointed out to Mrs. Weldon that although it was past the time for the periodical return of the fever, the child was still slumbering quietly in Hercules' arms
The march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution. Occasionally, where the bushes and brushwood had been broken down by the recent passage of men or beasts, progress was comparatively easy; but much more frequently, greatly to Dick's annoyance, obstacles of various sorts impeded their advance. Climbing plants grew in such inextricable confusion that they could only be compared to a ship's rigging involved in hopeless entanglement; there were creepers resembling curved scimitars, thickly covered with sharp thorns; there were likewise strange growths, like vegetable serpents, fifty or sixty feet long, which seemed to have a cruel faculty for torturing every passenger with their prickly spines. Axe in hand, the negroes had repeatedly to cut their road through these bewildering obstructions that clothed the trees from their summit to their base.
Animal life was no less remarkable in its way than the vegetation. Birds in great variety flitted about in the ample foliage, secure from any stray shot from the little band, whose chief object it was to preserve its incognito. Guinea-fowls were seen in considerable numbers, francolins in several varieties, and a few specimens of the bird to which the Americans, in imitation of their note, have given the name of "whip-poor-will." If Dick had not had too much evidence in other ways to the contrary, he might almost have imagined himself in a province of the New World.
Hitherto they had been unmolested by any dangerous wild beasts. During the present stage of their march a herd of giraffes, startled by their unexpected approach, rushed fleetly past; this time, however, without being represented as ostriches. Occasionally a dense cloud of dust on the edge of the prairie, accompanied by a sound like the roll
[Illustration: The march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution.]
of heavily-laden chariots, betokened the flight of a herd of buffaloes; but with these exceptions no animal of any magnitude appeared in view.
For about two miles Dick followed the course of the rivulet, in the hope that it would emerge into a more important stream, which would convey them without much difficulty or danger direct to the sea.
Towards noon about three miles had been accomplished, and a halt was made for rest. Neither Negoro nor Harris had been seen, nor had Dingo reappeared. The encampment for the midday refreshment was made under the shelter of a clump of bamboos, which effectually concealed them all. Few words were spoken during the meal. Mrs. Weldon could eat nothing; she had again taken her little boy into her arms, and seemed wholly absorbed in watching him. Again and again Dick begged her to take some nourishment, urging upon her the necessity of keeping up her strength.
"We shall not be long in finding a good current to carry us to the coast," said the lad brightly.
Mrs. Weldon raised her eyes to his animated features. With so sanguine and resolute a leader, with such devoted servants as the five negroes in attendance, she felt that she ought not utterly to despair. Was she not, after all, on friendly soil? what great harm could Harris perpetrate against her or her belongings? She would hope still, hope for the best.
Rejoiced as he was to see something of its former brightness return to her countenance, Dick nevertheless had scarcely courage steadily to return her searching gaze. Had she known the whole truth, he knew that her heart must fail her utterly.
Just at this moment Jack woke up and put his arms round his mother's neck. His eyes were brighter, and there was manifestly no return of fever.
"You are better, darling!" said Mrs. Weldon, pressing him tenderly to her.
"Yes, mamma, I am better; but I am very thirsty."
Some cold water was soon procured, which the child drank eagerly, and then began to look about him. His first inquiry was for his old friends, Dick and Hercules, both of whom approached at his summons and greeted him affectionately.
"Where is the horse?" was the next question.
"Gone away, Master Jack; I am your horse now," said Hercules.
"But you have no bridle for me to hold," said Jack, looking rather disappointed.
"You may put a bit in my mouth if you like, master Jack," replied Hercules, extending his jaws, "and then you may pull as hard as you please."
"O, I shall not pull very hard," said Jack; "but haven't we nearly come to Mr. Harris's farm?"
Mrs. Weldon assured the child that they should soon be where they wanted to be, and Dick, finding that the conversation was approaching dangerous ground, proposed that the journey should be now resumed. Mrs. Weldon assented; the encampment was forthwith broken up and the march continued as before.
[Illustration: It was a scene only too common in Central Africa]
In order not to lose sight of the watercourse, it was necessary to cut a way right through the underwood: progress was consequently very slow; and a little over a mile was all that was accomplished in about three hours. Footpaths had evidently once existed, but they had all become what the natives term "dead," that is, they had become entirely overgrown with brushwood and brambles. The negroes worked away with a will; Hercules, in particular, who temporarily resigned his charge to Nan, wielded his axe with marvellous effect, all the time giving vent to stentorian groans and grunts, and succeeded in opening the woods before him as if they were being consumed by a devouring fire.
Fortunately this heavy labour was not of very long duration.
After about a mile, an opening of moderate width, converging towards the stream and following its bank, was discovered in the underwood. It was a passage formed by elephants, which apparently by hundreds must be in the habit of traversing this part of the forest. The spongy soil, soaked by the downpour of the rainy season, was everywhere indented with the enormous impressions of their feet.
But it soon became evident that elephants were not the only living creatures that had used this track. Human bones gnawed by beasts of prey, whole human skeletons, still wearing the iron fetters of slavery, everywhere strewed the ground. It was a scene only too common in Central Africa, where like cattle driven to the slaughter, poor miserable men are dragged in caravans for hundreds of weary miles, to perish on the road in countless numbers beneath the trader's lash, to succumb to the mingled horrors of fatigue, privation, and disease, or, if provisions fail, to be butchered, without pity or remorse, by sword and gun.
That slave-caravans had passed that way was too obvious to permit a doubt. For at least a mile, at almost every step Dick came in contact with the scattered bones; while ever and again huge goat suckers, disturbed by the approach of the travellers, rose with flapping wings, and circled round their heads.
The youth's heart sank with secret dismay lest Mrs. Weldon should divine the meaning of this ghastly scene, and appeal to him for explanation, but fortunately she had again insisted on carrying her little patient, and although the child was fast asleep, he absorbed her whole attention. Nan was by her side, almost equally engrossed. Old Tom alone was fully alive to the significance of his surroundings, and with downcast eyes he mournfully pursued his march. Full of amazement, the other negroes looked right and left upon what might appear to them as the upheaval of some vast cemetery, but they uttered no word of inquiry or surprise.
Meantime the bed of the stream had increased both in breadth and depth, and the rivulet had in a degree lost its character of a rushing torrent. This was a change which Dick Sands observed hopefully, interpreting it as an indication that it might itself become navigable, or would empty itself into some more important tributary of the Atlantic. His resolve was fixed: he would follow its course at all hazards. As soon, therefore, as he found that the elephant's track was quitting the water's edge, he made up his mind to abandon it, and had no hesitation in again resorting to the use of the axe. Once more, then, commenced the labour of cutting a way through the entanglement of bushes and creepers that were thick upon the soil. It was no longer forest through which they were wending their arduous path; trees were comparatively rare; only tall clumps of bamboos rose above the grass, so high, however, that even Hercules could not see above them, and the passage of the little troop could only have been discovered by the rustling in the stalks.
In the course of the afternoon, the soil became soft and marshy. It was evident that the travellers were crossing plains that in a long rainy season must be inundated. The ground was carpeted with luxuriant mosses and graceful ferns, and the continual appearance of brown hematite wherever there was a rise in the soil, betokened the existence of a rich vein of metal beneath.
Remembering what he had read in Dr. Livingstone's account of these treacherous swamps, Dick bade his companions take their footing warily. He himself led the way. Tom expressed his surprise that the ground should be so soaked when there had been no rain for some time.
"I think we shall have a storm soon," said Bat,
"All the more reason, then," replied Dick, "why we should get away from these marshes as quickly as possible. Carry Jack again, Hercules; and you, Bat and Austin, keep close to Mrs. Weldon, so as to be able to assist her if she wants your help. But take care, take care, Mr. Benedict!" he cried out in sudden alarm; "what are you doing, sir?"
"I'm slipping in," was poor Benedict's helpless reply. He had trodden upon a kind of quagmire and, as though a trap had been opened beneath his feet, was fast disappearing into the slough. Assistance was immediately rendered, and the unfortunate naturalist was dragged out, covered with mud almost to his waist, but thoroughly satisfied because his precious box of specimens had suffered no injury. Actæon undertook for the future to keep close to his side, and endeavour to avoid a repetition of the mishap.
The accident could not be said to be altogether free from unpleasant consequences. Air-bubbles in great numbers had risen to the surface of the mire from which Benedict had been extricated, and as they burst they disseminated an odious stench that was well-nigh intolerable. The passage of these pestilential districts is not unfrequently very dangerous, and Livingstone, who on several occasions waded through them in mud that reached to his breast, compares them to great sponges composed of black porous earth, in which every footstep causes streams of moisture to ooze out.
For well nigh half a mile they had now to wend their cautious way across this spongy soil. Mrs. Weldon, ankle-deep in the soft mud, was at last compelled to come to a stand-still; and Hercules, Bat, and Austin, all resolved that she should be spared further discomfort, and insisted upon weaving some bamboos into a litter, upon which, after much reluctance to become such a burden, she was induced, with Jack beside her, to take her place.
After the delay thus caused, the procession again started on its perilous route. Dick Sands continued to walk at the head, in order to test the stability of the footing; Action followed, holding Cousin Benedict firmly by the arm; Tom took charge of old Nan, who without his support would certainly have fallen into the quagmire; and the three other negroes carried the litter in the rear. It was a matter of the greatest difficulty to find a path that was sufficiently firm; the method they adopted was to pick their way as much as possible on the long rank grass that on the margin of the swamps was tolerably tough; but in spite of the greatest precaution, there was not one of them who escaped occasionally sinking up to his knees in slush.
At about five o'clock they were relieved by finding themselves on ground of a more clayey character; it was still soft and porous below, but its surface was hard enough to give a secure foothold. There were watery pores that percolated the subsoil, and these gave evident witness to the proximity of a river-district.
The heat would have been intolerably oppressive if it had not been tempered by some heavy storm-clouds which obstructed the direct influence of the sun's rays. Lightning was observed to be playing faintly about the sky, and there was now and again the low growl of distant thunder. The indications of a gathering storm were too manifest to be disregarded, and Dick could not help being very uneasy. He had heard of the extreme violence of African storms, and knew that torrents of rain, hurricanes that no tree could resist, and thunderbolt after thunderbolt were the usual accompaniment of these tempests. And here in this lowland desert, which too surely would be completely inundated, there would not be a tree to which they could resort for shelter, while it would likewise be utterly vain to hope to obtain a refuge by excavation, as water would be found only two feet below the surface.
[Illustration: Another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief.]
After scrutinizing the landscape, however, he noticed some low elevations on the north that seemed to form the boundary of the marshy plain. A few trees were scattered along their summits; if his party could get no other shelter here, he hoped they would be able to find themselves free from any danger caused by the rising flood.
"Push on, friends, push on!" he cried; "three miles more, and we shall be out of this treacherous lowland."
His words served to inspire a fresh confidence, and in spite of all the previous fatigue, every energy was brought into play with renewed vigour. Hercules, in particular, seemed ready to carry the whole party, if it had been in his power.
The storm was not long in beginning. The rising ground was still two miles away. Although the sun was above the horizon, the darkness was almost complete; the overhanging volumes of vapour sank lower and lower towards the earth, but happily the full force of the deluge which must ultimately come did not descend as yet. Lightning, red and blue, flashed on every side and appeared to cover the ground with a network of flame.
Ever and again the little knot of travellers were in peril of being struck by the thunderbolts which, on that treeless plain, had no other object of attraction. Poor little Jack, who had been awakened by the perpetual crashes, buried his face in terror in Hercules' breast, anxious, however, not to distress his mother by any outward exhibition of alarm. The good-natured negro endeavoured to pacify him by promises that the lightning should not touch him, and the child, ever confident in the protection of his huge friend, lost something of his nervousness.
But it could not be long before the clouds would burst and discharge the threatened down-pour.
"What are we to do, Tom?" asked Dick, drawing up close to the negro's side.
"We must make a rush for it; push on with all the speed we can."
"But where?" cried Dick.
"Straight on," was the prompt reply; "if the rain catches us here on the plain we shall all be drowned."
"But where are we to go?" repeated Dick, in despair; "if only there were a hut! But look, look there!"
A vivid flash of lightning had lit up the country, and Dick declared that he could see a camp which could hardly be more than a quarter of a mile ahead.
The negro looked doubtful.
"I saw it too," he assented: "but if it be a camp at all it would be a camp of natives; and to fall into that would involve us in a worse fate than the rain."
Another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief; it appeared to be made up of about a hundred conical tents, arranged very symmetrically, each of them being from twelve to fifteen feet in height. It had the appearance, from a distance, of being deserted; if it were really so, it would afford just the shelter that was needed; otherwise, at all hazards, it must be most carefully avoided.
"I will go in advance," said Dick, after a moment's reflection, "and reconnoitre it."
"Let one of us, at least, go with you," replied Tom.
"No, stay where you are; I shall be much less likely to be discovered if I go alone."
Without another word, he darted off, and was soon lost in the sombre darkness that was only broken by the frequent lightning.
Large drops of rain were now beginning to fall.
Tom and Dick had been walking some little distance in advance of the rest of the party, who consequently had not overheard their conversation. A halt being made, Mrs. Weldon inquired what was the matter. Tom explained that a camp or village had been noticed a little way in front, and that the captain had gone forward to investigate it. Mrs. Weldon asked no further questions, but quietly waited the result. It was only a few minutes before Dick returned.
"You may come on," he cried.
"Is the camp deserted?" asked Tom.
"It is not a camp at all; it is a lot of ant-hills!"
"Ant-hills!" echoed Benedict, suddenly aroused into a state of excitement.
[Illustration: One after another, the whole party made their way inside]
"No doubt of it, Mr. Benedict." replied Dick; "they are ant-hills twelve feet high at least: and I hope we shall be able to get into them."
"Twelve feet!" the naturalist repeated; "they must be those of the termites, the white ants; there is no other insect that could make them. Wonderful architects are the termites."
"Termites, or whatever they are, they will have to turn out for us," said Dick.
"But they will eat us up!" objected Benedict.
"I can't help that," retorted Dick; "go we must, and go at once."
"But stop a moment," continued the provoking naturalist; "stop, and tell me: I can't be wrong: I always thought that white ants could never be found elsewhere than in Africa."
"Come along, sir, I say; come along, quick!" shouted Dick, terrified lest Mrs. Weldon should have overheard him.
They hurried on. A wind had risen; large spattering drops were now beginning to fall more heavily on the ground and in a few minutes it would be impossible to stand against the advancing tempest. The nearest of the accumulation of ant-hills was reached in time, and however dangerous their occupants might be, it was decided either to expel them, or to share their quarters. Each cone was formed of a kind of reddish clay, and had a single opening at its base. Hercules took his hatchet, and quickly enlarged the aperture till it would admit his own huge body. Not an ant made its appearance. Cousin Benedict expressed his extreme surprise. But the structure unquestionably was empty, and one after another the whole party made their way inside.
The rain by this time was descending in terrific torrents, strong enough to extinguish, one would think, the most violent explosions of the electric fluid. But the travellers were secure in their shelter, and had nothing to fear for the present; their tenement was of greater stability than a tent or a native hut. It was one of those marvellous structures erected by little insects, which to Cameron appeared even more wonderful than the upraising of the Egyptian pyramids by human hands. To use his own comparison, it might be likened to the construction of a Mount Everest, the loftiest of the Himalayan peaks, by the united labour of a nation.
The storm had now burst in full fury, and fortunate it was that a refuge had been found. The rain did not fall in separate drops as in temperate zones, but descended like the waters of a cataract, in one solid and compact mass, in a way that could only suggest the outpour of some vast aerial basin containing the waters of an entire ocean. Contrary, too, to the storms of higher latitudes, of which the duration seems ordinarily to be in inverse ratio to their violence, these African tempests, whatever their magnitude, often last for whole days, furrowing the soil into deep ravines, changing plains to lakes and brooks to torrents, and causing rivers to overflow and cover vast districts with their inundations. It is hard to understand whence such volumes of vapour and electric fluid can accumulate. The earth, upon these occasions, might almost seem to be carried back to the remote period which has been called "the diluvian age."
Happily, the walls of the ant-hill were very thick; no beaver-hut formed of pounded earth could be more perfectly water-tight, and a torrent might have passed over it without a particle of moisture making its way through its substance.
As soon as the party had taken possession of the tenement, a lantern was lighted, and they proceeded to examine the interior. The cone, which was about twelve feet high inside, was eleven feet wide at the base, gradually narrowing to a sugar-loaf top. The walls and partitions between the tiers of cells were nowhere less than a foot thick throughout.
These wonderful erections, the result of the combined labour of innumerable insects, are by no means uncommon in the heart of Africa. Smeathman, a Dutch traveller of the last century, has recorded how he and four companions all at one time occupied the summit of one of them in Loundé. Livingstone noticed some made of red clay, of which the height varied from fifteen to twenty feet; and in Nyangwé, Cameron several times mistook one of these colonies for a native camp pitched upon the plain. He described some of these strange edifices as being flanked with small spires, giving them the appearance of a cathedral-dome.
The reddish clay of which the ant-hill was composed could leave no doubt upon the mind of a naturalist that it had been formed by the species known as "termes bellicosus;" had it been made of grey or black alluvial soil, it might have been attributed to the "termes mordax" or "termes atrox," formidable names that must awaken anything but pleasure in the minds of all but enthusiast entomologists.
In the centre was an open space, surrounded by roomy compartments, ranged one upon another, like the berths of a ship's cabin, and lined with the millions of cells that had been occupied by the ants. This central space was inadequate to hold the whole party that had now made their hurried resort to it, but as each of the compartments was sufficiently capacious to admit one person to occupy it in a sitting posture, Mrs. Weldon, Jack, Nan, and Cousin Benedict were exalted to the upper tier, Austin, Bat, and Actæon occupied the next story, whilst Tom and Hercules, and Dick Sands himself remained below.
Dick soon found that the soil beneath his feet was beginning to get damp, and insisted upon having some of the dry clay spread over it from the base of the cone.
"It is a long time," he said, "since we have slept with a roof over our heads; and I am anxious to make our refuge as secure as possible. It may be that we shall have to
[Illustration: Cousin Benedict's curiosity was awakened.]
stay here for a whole day or more; on the first opportunity I shall go and explore; it may turn out that we are near the stream we are seeking; and perhaps we shall have to build a raft before we start again."
Under his direction, therefore, Hercules took his hatchet, and proceeded to break down the lowest range of cells and to spread the dry, brittle clay of which they were composed a good foot thick over the damp floor, taking care not in any way to block up the aperture by which the fresh air penetrated into the interior.