 Part I Most travelers who have passed the night in a South American forest have been roused from their slumbers by a matinee musicale, more fantastic than melodious, performed by monkeys as their ordinary greeting of the dawn, the yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form a chorus almost unearthly in its hideousness. Amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the Quadrumana ought to be recognized the little Marikina, the Sagoon, with its party-colored face, the gray moor, the skin of which is used by the Indians for covering their gunlocks, the Sapaju with his singler tuft over the forehead, and most miraculous of all the Guarriva, Simia Bilzbo, with its prehensile tail and diabolical cabinets. At the first streak of daylight the senior members, as Coragas, will start the keynote in a sonorous baritone. The younger monkeys join in tenor and alto, and the concert begins. But this morning there was no concert at all, there was nothing of the wanted serenade to break the silence of the forest. The shrill notes resulting from the rapid vibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard. Indians would have been disappointed and perplexed, they are very fond of the flesh of the Guarriva when smoked and dried, and they would certainly have missed the chant of the monkey-pattern nostres. But Dick Sands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, and accordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise. They all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which they had been nothing to disturb. Jack was by no means the latest in opening his eyes, and his first words were addressed to Hercules, asking him whether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. Hercules had to acknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himself quite ready for breakfast. The whole party were unanimous in this respect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiously served by Old Nan. The meal was by a repetition of the last evening supper, but with their appetite sharpened by the first forest air, and anxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not fail to do ample justice to their simple fare. One cuts a Benedict, for once in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were not utterly a matter of indifference to him. But he grumbled very much at the restraint to which he considered himself subjected. He could not see the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to be obliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets, and he protested that if Hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catch fireflies, there would be a bone to pick between them. Hercules did not look very much alarmed at the threat. Mrs. Walden, however, took him aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive the enthusiast entirely of his fabled occupation, instructed him to allow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not lose sight of him. The morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when the travelers once more on their way towards the east, preserving the same marching order as the day before. The path was still through luxuriant forests. The vegetable kingdom reigned supreme. As the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropical latitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descended perpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thus obtained, combined with the abundant moisture retaining the subsoil, caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent. Thick sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. Here they were, as Harris told them, in the region of the Pampas, a word which he knew in the Kichna dialect signifies a plain, but he had always read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency like of water, of trees and rocks. He had always understood that during the rainy season, this was spring-up in great abundance, and grown until they formed thickest that a well-nigh impenetrable. He had imagined that the few dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer only stamped the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough erroneous and desolation. But how different was everything to all this? The forest never ceased to stretch away interminably by to the horizon. There were no tokens of the rough nakedness that he expected. Dick seemed to be driven to the conclusion that Harris was right in describing this plateau of Atacama, which he had for this part most firmly believed to be a vast desert between the Andes and the Pacific, as a region that was quite exceptional in its natural features. It was not in Dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. In the course of the morning, he expressed his extreme surprise at finding the Pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas. Having not understood correctly, he said that the Pampas is similar to the North American savannas, only less marshy. Harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the Pampas of Rio Colorado and the Yanos of Venezuela and Orinoco. But he continued, I own, I am as much astonished as yourself at the character of this region. I have never crossed the plateau before, and I must confess it is altogether different to what you might find beyond the Andes toward the Atlantic. You do not mean that we are going to cross the Andes, said Dick, in sudden alarm. Harris smiled, no, no, indeed. With our limited means of transport, such an undertaking would have been rash in the extreme. We better have kept to the coast forever rather than incur such a risk. Our destination, San Felice, is on this side of the range, and in order to reach it we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatest elevation is but little over 1500 feet. And you say, Dick, persisted, that you have really no fear of losing your way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have never set foot before? No fear, whatever, Harris answered. So accustomed am I to traveling of this kind, that I can steer my way by a thousand signs revealing themselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of the soil, which would never present themselves to your notice. I assure you that I anticipate no difficulties. This conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. Harris seemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and Dick felt that there might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his own misgivings. Five days passed by, and the 12th of April arrived without any special incident. Nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in a day. Regular periods of rest had been taken, and except that Jack's spirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to have interfered with the general good health of the travelers. First disappointed of his India rubber tree, and then of his hummingbirds, Jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had been led to expect he should see in the wonderful forest. Where were the bright green macaques? Where were the gaudy auras with their bare white cheeks and pointed tails, which seemed never to light upon the ground? And where, too, were all the brilliant parrots with their feathered faces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest characters of which the Indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct? It is true that there was no lack of the common gray parrots with crimson tails, but there were no novelty. Jack had seen plenty of them before, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever and mimicry of the sitaside, they had been domesticated everywhere in both the old and new worlds. But Jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to cousin Benedict's. In spite of being allowed to wander around from the rank, he had failed to discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit. Not even a firefly danced at night, nature seemed to be mocking him, and his ill humor increased accordingly. And this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the 16th it was estimated that they must have traveled between 80 and 90 miles northeast woods from the coast. Harris positively asserted that they could not be much more than 20 miles from San Felice, and that by pushing forward they might expect in 8 and 40 hours to find themselves lodged in comfortable quarters. But although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vast table land, they had not seen one human inhabitant. Dick was more than ever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that they had not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near some village or plantation where Mrs. Walden might long since have found a suitable refuge. Desserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it had gladly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. Many a time a long, plaintive cry was heard, which Harris attributed to the tardigrades, or sloths, often found in wooden districts, and known by the name of Ice, and in the middle of the dinner halt on this day, a loud hissing suddenly broke upon the air, which made Mrs. Walden start to her feet in alarm. A serpent cried Dick, catching up his loaded gun. The negroes, following Dick's example, were in a moment on the alert. Don't fire, cried Harris. There was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a sakuru, a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had just moved itself in the long grass at their side. But Harris affirmed that the sakuru never hisses, and declared that the noise had really come from animals of an entirely inoffensive character. What animals, asked Dick, always eager for information, which it must be granted Harris seemed always equally anxious to give. Antelopes replied to Harris. But hush, not a sound, or you'll frighten them away. Antelopes cried Dick? I must see them. I must get close to them. More easily said than done, answered Harris, shaking his head. But Dick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and gun in hand and crept into the grass. He had not advanced many yards before a herd of about a dozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short pointed horns, dashed past him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood without giving him time to take a shot. I told you beforehand what you would have to expect, said Harris, as Dick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to the party. Impossible, however, as it had been fairly scrutinized the Antelopes, such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, the identification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion between Harris and the rest. About four o'clock on the afternoon the same day, the treadlers were halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, when three or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundred paces ahead, and scamped off at full speed. In spite of what Harris had urged, Dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on a very point of firing when Harris knocked the rifle quickly aside. They were giraffes, shouted Dick. The announcement awakened the curiosity of Jack, who quickly scrambled to his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging. "'My dear Dick,' said Mrs. Budden, "'there are no giraffes in America.' "'Certainly not,' cried Harris. "'They were not giraffes. They were ostriches, which you saw. Ostriches with four legs? That would never do. What do you say, Mrs. Budden?' Mrs. Budden replied that she had certainly taken the animals for quadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression. Laughing heartily, Harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for an inexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe. The shape of both was so similar that it often quite escaped observation as to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle. Besides, what needed discussion could there be when the fact was established that giraffes are unknown in the New World. The reasoning was plausible enough, and Mrs. Budden and the negroes were soon convinced, but Dick was far from satisfied. I did not know that there was an American ostrich he again objected. Oh, yes, replied Harris. There is a smug issue called the Nandu, which is very well known here. We should probably see some more of them. The statement was correct. The Nandu is common in the plains of South America, and is distinguished from the African ostrich by having three toes, all furnished with claws. It is a fine bird, sometimes exceeding six feet in height. It has a short beak, and its wings are furnished with blue-gray plumes. Harris appeared well acquainted with the bird, and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. In concluding his remarks, he again pressed upon Dick his most urgent request that he should abstain from firing upon any animal, whatever. It was of the utmost consequence. Dick made no reply. He was silent and thoughtful, grave doubts that arisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them. When the march was resumed on the following day, Harris asserted his conviction that another four and twenty hours would bring them to the Hacienda, and there, madam, he said, addressing Mrs. Budden, we can offer you every essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of your own home in San Francisco. This is what overpeded her expression of gratitude for the proffered hospitality, owing that she would should now be exceeding the glad to reach the farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to be threatened with the symptoms of incipient fever. Harris could not deny that although the climate was usually very healthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind of intermittent fever during March and April. The nature has provided the proper remedy, said Dick, and perceiving that Harris did not comprehend his meaning. He continued, are we not in the region of the Kinkinas, the bark of which is notoriously the medicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? For more part, I am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already. Ah, yes, yes, I know what you mean, answered Harris, after a moment's hesitation. They are trees, however, not always easy to find. They rarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrant red blossom, the Indians themselves often have a difficulty in recognizing them. The feature that distinguishes them most is the evergreen foliage. At Mrs. Budden's request, Harris promised to point out the tree if he should see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she would be able to obtain some sulfate of quinine, which was much more efficacious than the unprepared bark. Footnote, this bark was formerly reduced to powder, known as pulvis jesuiticus, because in the year 1649, the Jesuits in Rome inputted a large quantity of it from their missionaries in South America. The day passed without further incident. No rain had fallen at present, though the warm mist had rose from the soil but took on an approaching change of weather. The rainy season was certainly not far distant, but the travelers who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern. Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more than six miles from their destination. So confirmed, however, was Dick Sands in his strange suspicions that nothing could induce him to relax any of his usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch. Worn out by fatigue, the little party was glad to lie down, but they had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry. Who's that? Who's there? What's the matter? exclaimed Dick, the first to rise to his feet. It is I, answered Benedict's voice. I am bitten. Something has bitten me. A snake exclaims as well as an alarm. No, no, cousin. Better than that, it was not his sake. I believe it was an orthoptera. I have it all right. He shouted triumphantly. Then kill it quickly, sir, and let us go to sleep again in peace, said Harris. Kill it, not for the world. I must have a light, and look at it. Dick Sands indulged him for reasons of his own in getting a light. The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect somewhat smaller than a bee of a dull color, streaked with yellow on the under portion of the body. He looked radiant with delight. A diptera, he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy. A most famous diptera. Is it venomous, asked Mrs. Bowden? Not at all to men. It only hurts elephants and buffaloes. But tell us its name. What is it, cried Dick, impetuously? The naturalist began to speak in a slow, aracula tone. The insect is here, a prodigy. It is an insect totally unknown in this country. In America, tell us its name, roared Dick. It is a seetsey, sir, a true seetsey. Dick's heart sank like a stone. He was speechless. He did not, dared not, ask more. Only too well he knew where the seetsey could alone be found. He did not close his eyes again that night. End of Part I. CHAPTER XVIII. Of Dick Sands, the boy-captain. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Alexi Thelander, Davis, California. Dick Sands, the boy-captain, by Jules Verne, translated by Ellen E. Fruehrer. Part I. CHAPTER XVIII. A Terrible Discovery. The morning of the eighteenth dawn, the day on which, according to Harris's prediction, the travellers would be safely housed at San Felice, Mrs. Wheldon was really much relieved to the prospect, for she was aware that her strength must prove inadequate to the strain of a more protracted journey. The condition of her little boy, who was ultimately flushed with fever and pale with exhaustion, had begun to cause her great anxiety, and am willing to resign the care of the child, even to Nan, her faithful nurse. She insisted upon carrying him in her own arms. Twelve days and nights passed in the open air, had done much to try her powers of endurance, and the charge of a sick child in addition would soon break down her strength entirely. Dick Sands, Nan, and the Negroes had all borne the march very fairly. Their stock of provisions, though of course considerably diminished, was still far from small. As for Harris, he had shown himself preeminently adapted for forest life, and capable of bearing any amount of fatigue. Yet strange to say, as he approached the end of the journey, his manner underwent a remarkable change. Instead of conversing in his ordinary, frank and easy way, he became silent and preoccupied, as if engrossed in his own thoughts. Perhaps he had had an instinctive consciousness that his young friend, as he was, in the habit of addressing Dick, was entertaining horror suspicions about him. The march was resumed. The trees once again ceased to be crowded in impendable masses, but soon in clusters at considerable distances apart. Now Dick tried to argue with himself that must be coming to the true pompous, or that man must be designately misleading them. And yet what motive could he have? Although during the earlier part of the day, there occurred nothing that could be said absolutely to justify Dick's increasing uneasiness. Two circumstances transpired which did not escape his observation, and which he felt might be significant. The first of these was a sudden change in Dingo's behavior. The dog throughout the march had uniformly run along with his nose upon the ground, smelling the grass and shrubs, and occasionally uttering a sad, low whine. But today he seemed all agitation. He scamped about with bristling coat, with his head erect, and ever and again burst into one of those furious fits of barking, with which he had formally been accustomed to greet Nagoro's appearance upon the deck of the pilgrim. The idea that flitted across Dick's mind was shared by Tom. Look, Mr. Dick, look at Dingo. He is at his old ways again, he said. It is just as if Nagoro hushed Dick to the old man, who continued in a lower voice. It is just as if Nagoro had followed us. Do you think it is likely? It might perhaps be to his advantage to follow us, if he doesn't know the country. But if he does know the country, why then? Dick did not finish his sentence, but whistled to Dingo. The dog reluctantly obeyed his call. As soon as the dog was at his side, Dick patted him, repeating, Good dog, good Dingo, where's Nagoro? The sound of Nagoro's name had its usual effect. It seemed to irritate the animal exceedingly, and he barked furiously, and apparently wanted to dash into the thicket. Harris had been an interested sectator of the scene, and now approached with a peculiar expression in his countenance, and inquired what they were saying to Dingo. Oh, nothing much, replied Tom. We were only asking him for news of a lost acquaintance. Ah, I suppose you mean that Portuguese cook of yours? Yes, answered Tom. We fancied from Dingo's behavior, but Nagoro must be somewhere close at hand. Why don't you send and search the underworld? Perhaps the poor wretch is in distress. Nobody to that, Mr. Harris, Nagoro I have no doubt is quite capable of taking care of himself. Well, just as you please, my young friend, said Harris, with an error of indifference. Dick turned away. He continued his endeavors to pacify Dingo, and the conversation dropped. The other thing that had arrested Dick's attention was the behavior of the horse. If they had been as nearer the Hacienda as Harris described, would not the animal have pricked up its ears, sniffed the air, and with dilated nostril exhibited some sign of satisfaction, as being upon familiar ground. But nothing of the kind was to be observed. The horse plodded along as unconcernly as if a stable were as far away as ever. Even Mrs. Woodham was not so engrossed with her child. But what she was feigned to express her wonder was at the deserted aspect of the country. No trace of a farm laborer was anywhere to be seen. She cast her eyes at Harris, who was in his usual place in front, and observing how he was looking first to the left and then to the right, with the error of man who was uncertain of his path. She asked herself whether it was possible their guide might have lost his way. She dared not entertain the idea and averted her eyes that she might not be harassed by his movements. After crossing an open plain about a mile in width, the travelers once again entered the forest, which resumed something of the same denseness that had characterized it further to the west. In the course of the afternoon they came to a spot which was marked very distinctly by the vestiges of some enormous animals, which must have passed quite recently. As Dick looked carefully about him, he observed that the branches were all torn off or broken to a considerable height, and that the foot tracks and the trampled grass were much too large to be those either of jaguars or panthers. Even if it were possible that the prints on the ground had been made by eyes or other tidy grates, this would fail to account in the least for the trees being broken to such a height. Elephants alone were capable of working such destruction in the underworld, but elephants were unknown in America. Dick was puzzled but controlled himself so that he would not apply to Harris for any enlightenment. His intuition made him aware that a man who had once tried to make him believe that giraffes or ostriches would not hesitate a second time to oppose upon his credulity. More than ever was Dick becoming convinced that Harris was a traitor, and he was secretly prompted to tax him with his treachery. Still, he was obliged to own that he could not assign any motive for the man acting in such a manner with the survivors of the pilgrim, and consequently hesitated before he actually condemned him for conduct so base and heartless. What could be done, he repeatedly asked himself. On board ship the boy captain might per chance have been able to devise some plan for the safety of those who strangely committed to his charge, but here on an unknown shore he could only suffer from the burden of this responsibility the more, because he was so utterly powerless to act. He made of his mind on one point. He determined not to alarm the poor anxious mother a moment before he was actually compelled. It was his carrying out this determination that explained why on subsequently arriving at a considerable stream, where he saw some huge heads, swollen muzzles, long tusks and unwieldy bodies rising from the midst of rank wet grass. He uttered no word and gave no gesture of surprise, but only too well he knew at a glance that he must be looking at a herd of hippopotamuses. It was a weary march that day, a journal feeling of depression spread involuntarily from one to the other, hardly conscious to herself of her weariness. Mrs. Woodham was exhibiting manifest symptoms of lassitude, and it was only Dick's moral energy and sense of duty that kept him from succumbing to the prevailing dejection. About four o'clock Tom noticed something lying on the grass, and stooping down he picked up a kind of knife. It was of peculiar shape, being very wide and flat in the blade, while its handle, which was a vivary, was ornamented with a good deal of clumsy colouring. He carried it once to Dick, who, when he had scrutinized it, held it up to Harris with a remark, "'There must be natives not far off.' "'Quite right, young my young friend. The hacienda must be a very few miles away. But yet, but yet,' he hesitated, "'You don't mean that you are not sure of your ways,' said Dick sharply. "'Not exactly that,' replied Harris. "'Yet in taking this shortcut across the forest, I am inclined to think I am a mile or so out of the way. Perhaps I'd better walk on a little way and look about me.' "'No, you do not leave us here,' cried Dick firmly. "'Not against your will, but remember, I did not undertake to guide you in the dark. We must spare you the necessity for that. I can answer for it that Mrs. Baldwin will raise no objection to spending another night in the open air. We could start off tomorrow morning as early as we like, and if the distance be only what you represent, a few hours will accomplish it easily.' "'As you please,' answered Harris, with cold civility. "'Just then, Dingo again burst out into a vehement fit of barking, and it required no small amount of coaxing on Dick's part to make him cease from his noise. It was decided that the whole should be made at once. Mrs. Baldwin, as it had been anticipated, urged nothing against it, being preoccupied by her immediate attention to Jack, who was lying in her arms, suffering from a decided attack of fever. The shelter over a large thicket had just been selected by Dick as a suitable resting place for the night, when Tom, who was assisting in the necessary preparations, suddenly gave a cry of horror. "'What is it, Tom?' asked Dick very calmly. "'Look. Look at these trees. They are spattered with blood. And look here. Here are hands, men's hands, cut off and lying on the ground. What!' cried Dick, and an instant was at his side. His presence of mind did not fail him. He whisted. "'Hush, Tom. Hush, not a word.' But it was with a shudder that ran through his veins that he witnessed for himself the mutilated fragments of several human bodies, and saw, lying beside them, some broken forks, and some bits of iron chain. The sight of the gore remains made Dingo bark ferociously, and Dick, who was most anxious as Mrs. Walden, is sent to Hinchon, should not be called to the discovery, had the greatest difficulty in driving him back. But fortunately the ladies' mind was so engrossed with their patient that she did not deserve their commotion. Harris stood aloof. There was no one to notice the change that passed over his countenance, but the expression was almost diabolical in its malignity. Poor old Tom himself seemed perfectly spellbound. With his hands clenched, his eyes dilated, and his breast heaving with emotion, he kept repeating without anything like coherence the words. Forks, chains, forks, long ago, remember, too well, chains! For Mrs. Walden said, Tom, hold your tongue, Dick implored him. Tom, however, was full with some remembrance of the past. He continued to repeat, long ago, forks, chains, until Dick led him out of hearing. A fresh halting pace was chosen a short distance further on, and supper was prepared, but the meal was left almost untasted, not so much that hunger had been overcome by fatigue, but because the indefinable feeling of uneasiness that had taken possession of them all had entirely destroyed all appetite. Gradually the night became very dark, the sky was covered with heavy storm clouds, and on the western horizon flashes of summer lightning now and then glimit through the trees. The air was perfectly still, not a leaf stirred, and the atmosphere seemed so charged with electricity as to be incapable of transmitting sound of any kind. Dick himself, with awesomeness and attendance, remained on guard, all of them eagerly straining both eye and ear to catch any light or sound that might disturb the silence and obscurity. Old Tom, with his head sunk upon his breast, sat motionless as if in a trance. He was gloomily revolving the awakened memories of the past. Mrs. Bowden was engaged with her sick child. C.S. Leigh Wonder Party was really asleep, except indeed it might be Cousin Benedict, whose reasoning faculties were not of any order to carry him forwards into any future contingencies. Midnight was still an hour in advance, when the dull air seemed filled with a deep and prolonged roar, mingled with a peculiar kind of vibration. Tom started to his feet. A fresh recollection of his early days had struck him. "'A lion! A lion!' he shouted. In vain Dick tried to repress him, but he repeated, "'A lion! A lion!' Dick's sand seized his cutlass, and, unable any longer to control his wrath, he rushed to the spot where he had left Harris lying. The man was gone, and his horse with him. All the suspicions that had been so long pent up within Dick's mind now shade themselves into actual reality. A flooded light had broken in upon him. Now he was convinced, only too certainly, that it was not the coast of America at all upon which the schooner had been cast ashore. It was not East Island that had been sited far away in the West. The compass had completely deceived him. He was satisfied now that the strong currents had carried them quite round Cape Horn, and that they were really entered the Atlantic. No wonder that Kinkiness, Coutreau-Truc, and other South American products had failed to be seen. This was neither the Bolivian pompous nor the plateau of Atacama. There were giraffes, not ostriches that had vanished down the glade. There were elephants that had troddened down the unawed. There were hadopotomuses that had were lurking by the river. It was indeed that dreaded sea-sea-fly that Cousin Benedict had so triumphantly discovered, and last of all it was a lion's roar that had disturbed the silence of the forest. That chain, that knife, those forks, were unquestionably the instruments of slave-dealers. And what could those mutilated hands be except the relics of their ill-fitted dictums? Harrison Nogoro must be in a conspiracy. It was with terrible anguish that Dick gnashed his teeth and muttered, Yes, it is true, we are in Africa, in Equatorial Africa, in the land of slavery, in the very haunt of slave-drivers. The slave trade is an expression that ought never to have found its way into any human language. After being long practiced at a large profit by European nations as had possessions beyond the seas, this abominable traffic has now for many years been ostensibly forbidden. Yet even in the enlightenment of this 19th century it is still largely carried out on, especially in Central America, in as much as there are several states, professively Christian, whose signatures have never been affixed to the deed of abolition. Incredible as it should seem, this barter of human beings still exists, and for the due comprehension of the second part of Dick Sand's story, it must be borne in mind that for the purpose of supplying certain colonies with slaves that continue to be prosecuted such barbarous man-hunts as threatens almost to lay waste an entire continent with blood, fire, and pillage. The nefarious traffic as far as regards Negroes does not appear to have arisen until the 15th century. The following is said to be the circumstances under which it had its origin. After being banished from Spain, the Muslims crossed the straits of Gibraltar and took refuge upon the shores of Africa. But the Portuguese, who then occupied that portion of the coast, persecuted the fugitives with the utmost severity, and having captured them in large numbers set them as prisoners into Portugal. They were thus the first nucleus of any African slaves that entered Western Europe since the commencement of the Christian era. The majority, however, of these Muslims were members of wealthy families who were prepared to pay almost any amount of money for their release, but no ransom was exorbitant enough to tend the Portuguese to surrender them, more precious than gold with the strong arms that should work the resources of their young and rising colonies. Thus balked in their purpose of affecting a direct ransom of their captured slaves, the Muslim family's next submitted a proposition for exchange of them for a larger number of African Negroes, whom it would be quite easy to procure. The Portuguese, to whom the proposal was in every way advantageous, eagerly accepted the offer, and in this way the slave trade was originated in Europe. By the end of the 16th century, this odious traffic had become permanently established. In principle it contained nothing repugnant to the semi-barberous thought and customs then existing. All the great states recognized it as the most effectual means of colonizing the islands of the New World, especially slaves of Negro blood, well acclimatized to tropical heat, were able to survive where white men officers have perished by thousands. The transport of slaves to the American colonies was consequently regularly affected by vessels especially built for that purpose, and large depots for this branch of commerce were established at various points on the African coast. The goods cost, comparatively little in production, and the profits were enormous. Yet, after all, however indispensable it might be to complete the foundation of the transatlantic colonies, there was nothing to justify the shameful barter of human flesh and blood, and the voice of philanthropy began to be heard in protestation, calling upon all European governments, in the name of mercy and common humanity, to decree the abolition of the trade at once. In 1751 the Quakers put themselves at the head of the abolitionist movement in North America, that very land where, a hundred years later, the war's secession burst forth, in which the question of slavery bore the most conspicuous part. Several of the northern states, Virginia, Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania prohibited the trade, liberating the slaves in spite of the cost, who had been imported into their territories. The campaign, thus commenced, was not limited to a few provinces of the New World. On this side of the Atlantic, too, the partisans of slavery were subject to a vigorous attack. Ingrid in France led the van, and energetically beat up recruits to serve the righteous cause. Let us lose our colonies rather than sacrifice our principles, was the magnanimous watchword that resounded throughout Europe. And notwithstanding the vast political and commercial interest involved in the question, it did not go forth in vain. A living impulse had been communicated to the liberation movement. In 1807, England formally prohibited the slave trade in her colonies. France following her example in 1814. The two great nations ended upon a treaty on the subject, which was confirmed by Napoleon during the Hundred Days. Hitherto, however, the declaration was purely theoretical. Slave ships continued to apply their illicit trade, discharging their living cargo at many a colonial port. It was evident that more resolute and practical measures must be taken to impress the enormity. Accordingly, the United States in 1820 and Great Britain in 1824 declared the slave trade to be an act of piracy and its perpetrators to be punishable with death. France, too, gave in to her adherence to the new treaty. But the southern states of America and the Spanish and Portuguese, not having signed the act of abolition, continued the importation of slaves at a great profit. And this, in defiance of the recognized reciprocal right of visitation to verify the flags of suspected ships. But although the slave trade by these measures was in a considerable measure reduced, it continued to exist. New slaves were not allowed, but the old ones did not recover their liberty. England was now the first to set a noble example. On the 14th of May, 1833, an act of parliament by a magnificent vote of millions of pounds emancipated all the Negroes in the British colonies, and in August, 1838, 670,000 slaves were declared free men. Ten years later, in 1848, the French Republic liberated the slaves in her colonies to the number of 260,000. And in 1859, the war which broke out between the Federals and Confederates in the United States finished the work of emancipation by extending it to the whole of North America. Thus, three great powers have accomplished their task of humanity, and at the present time the slave trade is carried on only for the advantage of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies or to supply the requirements of the Turkish or Arab populations of the East. Brazil, although she has not emancipated her former slaves, does not receive any new. And all Negro children are pronounced freeborn. In contrast, however, to all this is not to be concealed that in the interior of Africa, as a result of wars between chieftains waged for the sole object of making captives, entire tribes are often reduced to slavery and are carried off in caravans in two opposite directions, some westwards to the Portuguese colony of Angola, others eastwards to Mozambique, of these miserable creatures of whom a very small proportion have reached their destination, some are dispatched to Cuba or Madagascar, others to the Arab or Turkish provinces of Asia, Dimeca or Muscat. The French and English cruisers have practically very little power to control the iniquitous proceedings because the extent of coast to be watched is so large this strict and adequate surveillance cannot be maintained. The extent of the odious export is very considerable, no less than 24,000 slaves annually reach the coast. A number that hardly represents the 10th part of those who are massacred or otherwise perished by deplorable end. After the frightful butchery, the fields lie devastated, the spoiling villages avoid of inhabitants, the river is wreaked with bleeding corpses and wild bees take undisputed possession of the soil. Livingston, upon returning to the district, immediately after one of these ruthless raids, said that he could never have recognized it for the same that he had visited only a few months previously, and all other travelers, Grant, Speck, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, described the wooded plateau of Central Africa as the principal theater of the barbous warfare between chief and chief. In the region of the Great Lakes, throughout the vast district which feeds the market of Zanzibar in Borneu and Faizan, further south on the banks of the Nyasa and the Zambizi, further west in the districts of the Upper Zaire, just traversed by the Intrepid Stanley, everywhere there is the recurrence of the same scenes of ruined slaughter and devastation. Ever and again the question seems to be forced upon the mind where the slavery is not to end in the entire annihilation of the Negro race so that like the Australian tribes of South Holland, it will become extinct. Who can doubt that the day must dawn, which will herald the closing of the markets in the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, a day when civilized nations shall no longer tolerate the perpetration of this barbous wrong? 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 Muslim nations will continue to depopulate the continent of Africa. To them is due the chief immigration of the natives who, torn from their promises, are sent to the eastern coast in numbers that exceed 40,000 annually. Long before the Egyptian expedition, the natives of Sennar was sold to the natives of Darfur and Vicerosa, and even Napoleon Bonaparte purchased a considerable number of Negroes who be organized into regiments after the fashion of Memelux. And altogether it may be affirmed that although 4th and 5th of the present century have passed away, slave trafficking in Africa has been increased rather than diminished. The truth is that Islamism really nurtures the slave trade. In Muslim 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 are regenerated by their own labor would otherwise diminish and ultimately disappear. As in the time of Bonaparte, 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 Borno and even in Egypt, we are told by William Lejeune, an eyewitness, 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 in a stern justice that compels the additional statement that their representatives of certain great European powers is still favored the unholy traffic with an indulgent connivance. And whilst cruisers are watching the coast of the Atlantic and 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 10 Negroes are sacrificed in the capture of a single slave. It was the knowledge more or less complete of all this that rung from Dick Sands, his bitter and heart-wreddening cry. We are in Africa in the very haunt of slave drivers. True 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. At the vast territory with his three provinces, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, little was then known except the coast. It extends from the Zaire on the North to the North and the South and it's chief towns of the ports of Benguela and St. Paula de Luanda, 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 travelers who had carried adventure for 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 endeavor to discover the secrets of their infamous craft, all combined to rent out the region one of the most hazardous in the whole of Equatoria, Africa. It was in 1816 that Takiya said of the Congo as follows the Yalala Falls, at distance, no 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 offices and scientific men connected with the expedition. 37 years afterwards, Dr. Livingston had advanced from the Cape of Good Hope to the Upper Zambezi. Thence, with the fearlessness of the two unrivaled, he crossed the Carango, an affluent of the Congo, and after having traversed the continent from the extreme south to the east, he reached St. Paul de Luanda on the 31st of May, 1854, the first explorer of the unknown portions of the Great Portuguese Colony. 18 years elapsed and two other bold travelers crossed the entire continent from east to west and after encountering unravelled and parallel difficulties, emerged the one to the south, the other to the north. 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 the expedition sent out, understandably, to the relief of Livingston 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 few of Livingston. He started from Zanzibar. Having passed through Ugogo, he met Livingston's corpse, which was being borne to the eastern coast by his faithful followers. And shaken in his resolve to make his way right across the continent, Cameron still pushed onwards to the west. He passed through Unyanya Bay and Uganda and reached Kwaokkawale, where he secured all Livingston's papers. After exploring Lake Tanganyika, he crossed the mountains of Bambare and finding himself unable to descend the course of Lualaba. He traversed the provinces devastated and depopulated by war and the slave trade. Kilemba, Urua, the sources of the Lomami, Ulanda, and Lovale. And having crossed the Kwanzaa, 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 Morland Stanley. It is universally known how the undodded correspondent of the New York Herald having been dispatched in search of Livingston found their 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 continued in the interest of science, his prime object being to make a thorough investigation of the Dualaba, of which in his first expedition he'd 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 Bagaimoyo in November, 1874. Twenty-one months later, he acquitted Ujiji, which had been decimated by smallpox, and in 74 days accomplished the passage of the lake and reached Neyangue. A great slave market previously visited both by Livingston and Cameron. He was also present at some of the horrible Razias perpetrated by the officers of the Sultan of Zanzibar in the districts of Marunzu and Manuema. In order to be in a position to descend the Dualaba to its very mouth, Stanley engaged at Neyangue, 140 porters and 19 boats. Difficulties arose from the very outset, and not only had he had to contend with the cannibals of Ugu-su, but in order to avoid any unnavigable cataracts, he had to convey his boats many miles by land. Near the equator, just to the point where the Dualaba turns north-northwest, 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 dulled, the resolute American pushed on to latitude 20 degrees north, and ascertained beyond room for doubt that the Dualaba was really the upper Zaire or Congo, and that by following its course he should come directly to the sea. The set 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 Masasa, and on the 18th of July, he was himself carried in his boat into the Mbello Falls and escaped by little short of a miracle. On the 6th of August, the daring adventurer arrived at the village of Nisanda, only four days from the sea. Two days later, he received a supply of provisions that had been sent by two Mboma merchants to Banza Mbuku, 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 Loalaba and had ascertained beyond reach of question that as the Nile is the great artery of the north and the Zambezi of the east, so Africa possesses in the west a third great river, which, in a course of no less than 2,900 miles, under the names of the Loalaba, Zaire, and Congo, unites the Lake District with the Atlantic Ocean. In 1873, however, the date at which the pilgrim founded upon the coast, very little was known of the province of Angola, except that it was the scene of the Western slave trade at which the markets of Bihe, Kassanga, and Kasundi were the chief centers. 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 abandoned egress who would be most tempting bait to the slave driver. His last illusion was completely dispelled. He had no longer the fate it felt 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 fallen impression that he might be in the pleasant region between the Cordilleras and the coast, where villages on numerous emissions afford a hospital shelter to every traveler. 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 Havilodas. Limited in one sense was the knowledge that the Dick Sands possessed of this land of horrors, but he had read the accounts that had been given by the missionaries of the 16th and 17th centuries, by the Portuguese traders who've reeked into the route from Saint Paul to Luanda, by Saint Salvador to the Zaire, as well as by Dr. Livingston 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. End of Part II. Chapter I. Recording by Alexi Talander, Davis, California. www.alexitalander.com. Part II. Chapter II of Dick Sands, The Boy Captain. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Alexi Talander, Davis, California. Dick Sands, The Boy Captain, by Jules Verne, translated by Ellen E. Fruehr. Part II. Chapter II. Accomplices. 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 Harrison Nagoro, the one lately landed from New Zealand, the other pursuing his wanted 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 Paris. After the conversation had turned a while upon the events of the last few hours, Nagoro said abruptly, couldn't you manage to get that young 15 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 had been wide awake, but just another hundred miles, you know, continued Nagoro, would have finished the business off well, and those black fellas 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 a gut of percha and hummingbirds and his mother wanted kinkina trees, and when that old fool of a cousin was bent on finding cuckoos, 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 often seen in America as the honest men in a Benguela penitentiary. Then that old nigger, Tom, discovered a lot of forts and chains, left by some runaway slaves at the foot of a tree, but when last of all a lion roared, and the noise he knew was rather loud than the mewing of a cat, I thought it was time to take my horse and de-camp. Nagora repeated his expression of regret that the whole party had not been carried another hundred miles into the province. It really cannot be helped rejoin 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 in that beast's head before long, grout Nagora. Take care you don't get one through your own first, laughed Harris. That young sans I warn you is a first-rate shot, and between ourselves is rather a fine fellow of his kind. Fine fellow, indeed, sneered Nagora. Whatever he is, he's 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've been doing all this time. When I found you just after the wreck in the mouth of the Longa, you had only time to ask me to get this party, Samhau or other, up into the country. But it is just upon two years since you left Kassange with that caravan of slaves for your old master, Alves. 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 a mother of Nagora. Ah, well, that will come sooner or later to rejoin the American, with the philosophic indifference. Many of our tray can't expect to die quietly in our beds, you know. But were you called by the English? No, by the Portuguese. Before you'd got rid of your cargo? Nagora 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 Luanda. Couldn't found 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 watched 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 prefer to travel incognito rather than run the risk of being handed over again to the authorities at Luanda. Well done, exclaimed the American, and so you had a free passage of the land of the Maori's, 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 rustling in that club of papyrus? At 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 traveling 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 receded themselves and Nagora 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 even tried the trade of being an honest man, put in the American. Just so, said Nagora, and in course of the time the pilgrim, the vessel by which I came here, put in an Auckland. While she was waiting to take Mrs. Walden and her party on board, I applied to the captain for a post, for I was once mate on board as labour 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 a bed in my services was it accepted, and in a few days we were out of sight in New Zealand. I have heard something about the voyage from young Sans, said Harris, but even now I can't understand how you reached here. Neither does he, said Nagora, with a malicious grin. I will tell you now, and you may repeat the story to your young friend if you like. We'll go on, said Harris. When we started continuing Nagora, it was my intention to sail only as far as Chile. That would have brought me nearly halfway to Angola, but three weeks after leaving Auckland, Captain Holland 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. 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 signs 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 tempered with, so that the pilgrim, scutting along before a tempest, was carried all together off her course. You may imagine that the young captain was puzzled at the length of the voyage. It would have bewodled a more experienced head than his. Before he was aware of it, we had rounded Cape Horn and 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 islandic sands took for Easter Island was really Tristan da Cuna. Good said Harris. I think I understand now how our friends have been persuaded to take Angola for Bolivia, but they are under siege now, you know, he added. I know all about that, replied the Portuguese. Then what do you attend to do, Harris said? You will see in a grower answered significantly, but first of all, tell me something about our employer, Old Alves, how is he? Oh, the old rascals want enough, and we'll be delighted to see you again, replied Harris. Is he at the market at Bihé? No, he has been at his place at Casonde 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 the Mossamedes, is the only part where it can be attended with any chances to success. To pass a car around through Benguela or Luande is an utter impossibility. Neither the governors nor the chevets. Footnote one, subordinate Portuguese governors at secondary stations. We'll listen to a word of reason. Old Alves is therefore thinking of going in the other direction to an awards, Nyongwe 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, Nogoro, 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 fear that Stanley the American will do the same. All this exploration, you know, is ruinous to our business, and is to our interest that not one of these travelers 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 merchandise with a small concern as though they were dealing with chests of tea or hogs heads 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, Spick, Burton, Cameron, Stanley, other heroes his 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 all of us, the slave dealer, Harris inquired what he prefers doing with the survivors of the pilgrim now that they were in his hands. Divide them into two lots, answered Negror, without a moment's hesitation. One for the market, the other, he did not finish his sentence, but the expression of his cabinets was an index to the military 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 fit your good price at Kazande. 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 changed 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 Negror, apparently annoyed that he had said so much, and immediately began talking at the means of securing the living prey, which he had been taking so many pains to entrap. Harris informed him that on the Kwanzaa, about 10 miles distance, there was, at the present time, in camp, the 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 ascend its course on a raft to the sea. The nearest river was undoubtedly the Kwanzaa, so that he and Negror might feel quite sure meeting their friends upon its banks. If you think really think so, said Negror, there is not much time to be lost. Whatever young Sands determined to do, he would do it 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 wrestling in the Papyrus, which had previously aroused Negror's fears. Presently a low growl was heard, and a large dog, showing its teeth, emerged from the bushes, evidently prepared for an attack. It's Dingo, exclaimed Harris. Kahn found the brute. He shall not escape me this time, said Negror. He caught up Harris's gun, and raising it to his shoulder, he fired just as the dog was in the act of spraying at his throat. A long wind of pain followed the report, and Dingo disappeared among the bushes that fringed the stream. Negror was instantly upon his track, but could discover nothing beyond a few blood stains upon the stalks of the Papyrus. A long crimson trail upon the pebbles on the bank. I think I've done for the beast now, was Negror's remark as he returned from his fruitless search. Harris, who had been a silent spectator of the whole scene, now asked Cooley, what makes that animal has such an inveterate dislike to you? Oh, there is an old score to settle between, as replied the Portuguese. What about, inquired the American. Negror made no reply, and finding him evidently disinclined to be commuted in the subject, he and 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 toward the Kwanzaa. End of Part II. Chapter II. Recording by Alexi Talander. Davis, California. www.alexitalander.com Part II. Chapter III of Dick Sands, The Boy Captain. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Alexi Talander. Davis, California. Dick Sands, The Boy Captain. By Jules Verne. Translated by Ellen E. Fruer. Part II. Chapter III. On the March Again. 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 seen ever to be receding, and why the voyage had been prolonged 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'd been roused by Tom's cry of alarm that Nagoro had fallen against the binocle. As he recollected these circumstances, he became more and more convinced that it was Nagoro who was the main spring 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 man who was capable of such vile machinations? But shrouded in mystery is where 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 as short as he was that Harris had acted the traitor, he was led to the conclusion that he and Nagoro had been playing in 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 be the odious stratagem he accomplished. Dick could well understand that the Negroes would be sold for slaves. He could only too easily imagine that upon himself Nagoro would read the vengeance he had so obviously been contemplating. But for Mrs. Walden 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. Walden 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, pundering over the present and the future, wearing the evil chances to pince the good, only to be convinced that the evil must be 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's hand scrapped softly up to the old Negro and whispered, Tom, you know now why 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. Walden or any of the others know. The old man remembered 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 practice 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 do all our best to prove our courage and to show our devotion to your service. Thus assured of Tom's cooperation, Dick proceeded to deliberate upon his future line of action. He had every reason to believe that the treacherous American, started by the traces of the slaves and the unexpected roaring of the lion, had taken flight before he 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 Nagoro, who, to judge from Dingo's strange behavior, had undoubtedly for the last few days been somewhere on that track. Here was a delay that might be turned into a 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 once 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 herchace their footsteps through the forest. It would merely bring them to their starting point and would more of afford an easy track from Nagoro 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 affected 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. Walden and her little boy, who 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 in other 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 traveling by water than by land and was longing to be once again upon what was to him, as it were, his native element. He little dreamt that he was divided and seemed for himself a 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 what existed in the neighborhood. 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 bound in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken for the Cordilletas. 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 affluence. 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 the oxide of iron from its sloping banks. Dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as a 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 meant for the old Negro's entire approval. As the day dawned, the sleepers one by one awoke. Mrs. Weldon laid little jag 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's 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 the girl. In league with the girls, cried Mrs. Weldon. Ah, I haven't 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 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 big fists and giving emphasis to his words. But what would 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 any way 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 seashore. Are you quite sure, Dick, that Mr. Harris has deceived us? Dick 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 that he could avoid upon the past, he hurried on to detail the means by which he had now proposed to reach the sea, concluding by the assertion that he had 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. Ben and Austin at once volunteered to carry her in a litter of this the lady would not hear, and bravely repeated her intention of traveling on foot, announcing her willingness to start without further delay. Dick says he's only too glad to ascend to her wish. Let me take Master Jack, said Hercules. I should be out of my element if I have nothing to carry. The giant, without waiting for reply, took the child from Nansar and 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 Actaeon, 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' disappearance. He was suffering from a loss which to him was of far greater importance. He had mislabeled his spectacles of magnifying glass. It had happened that Bette had picked them up in the long grass, close to the spot where the amateur naturalists 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 Actaeon and Austen with strict injunctions not to lead their side, he followed them as submissively as a blind man in leading strings. The start was made, but scarcely had the little troop advance 50 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 disquinguished in the air. 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 the inadditional safeguard in the event of any sudden surprise. Perhaps he has followed Harris, suggested Tom. Four more likely is on the track of Nagoro, rejoined Dick. The Nagoro, to a dead certainty, said Hercules, will put a bullet in his head. It is to be hoped, replied Bette. But Dingo will strangle him first. Dick Sands, disguising his vacation, said, At any rate, we have no time to wait for the animal now. If he's alive, he will not fail to file in this out. Move on, lads, move on. The weather was very hot. Ever since daybreak, heavy clouds have 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, unranked grass enclosed by clumps of forest trees. In some places, fossilized trunks lying on the ground betoken the existence of one of the cold districts that are common upon the continent of Africa. Along the glaze, the carpet of verger was relieved by crimson stems and a variety of flowers, ginger blossoms, blue and yellow, pale libelias, and red orchids fertilized by the numerous insects that incessantly harbored about them. The trees did not grow in impendial massivists of one species, but exhibited themselves an infinite variety. There was also a species of palm producing an oil locally much valued. There were cotton plants growing in bushes eight or 10 feet high. The cotton attached in long shreds to the lignious stalks, and there were copals from which, pierced by the proboscis of certain insects, exudes an odorous resin that flows onto the ground and is collected by the natives. Then there were citrons and wild pomegranates, and a score of other opore-orboracent plants, all testifying to the fertility of this plateau of Central Africa. In many places, too, the air was fragrant with the odor 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. Livingston's observation, the disorder may generally be cured by quitting the locality where it has been contracted. Dick expresses hope that, in little Jack's case, the words of the great traveler would be verified, and an encouragement of his disanguidant view pointed out to Mrs. Welland 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 a 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, 50 or 60 feet long, which seemed to have a cruel faculty for torturing every passenger with their prickly spines. Axe in hand, the digress had repeatedly to cut their road through these burrotary obstructions, to clothe 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, franklins in several varieties, and a few specimens of the bird to which the Americans, in imitation of their note, have given the name of Whipple Whale. 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. They're the two that 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 of heavily laden chariots, betoken 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 Nagoro nor Harris had been seen, nor had Dingo reappeared. The encampment for the midday refreshment was made under the shelter of a comp of bamboos, which eventually concealed them all. Few words were spoken during the meal. Mrs. Vodun could eat nothing. She'd 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. Vodun raised her eyes to his animated features. With so sanguine and resolute a leader, with such devoted servants as the five negroes and attendants, she felt that she ought not a lead to despair. Was she not, after all, unfriendly soil? What great harm could Harris perpetrate against her or her belongings? She would hope still, hope of the best. Rejoice as he was as he said of his former brightness returned to her accountants. Dick nevertheless had scarcely courage steadily to return her searching gaze. Had she known the truth, he knew that our heart must fail her utterly. End of Part II, Chapter III. Recording by Alex C. Tlander, Davis, California, www.alexcitelander.com. Part II, Chapter IV of Dick Sands, The Boy Captain. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Alex C. Tlander, Davis, California. Dick Sands, The Boy Captain. By Jules Verne. Translated by Ellen E. Führer. Part II, Chapter IV, Rough Traveling. Just at this moment, Jack woke up and put his arms around his mother's neck. And there was manifestly no return of fever. You are better, darling, said Mrs. Wooden, pressing him tenderly to her. Yes, Mama, I am better, but I am very thirsty. Some cold water was soon procured, which the trial 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's 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. Oh, I shall not pull very hard, said Jack. But haven't we nearly come to Mr. Harris's farm? Mrs. Wooden 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 now be resumed. Mrs. Wooden ascended. The encampment was forthwith broken up, and the march continued as before. In order not to lose sight of the watercourse, it was necessary to cut away right through the underwood. Progress was consequently very slow, and 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 termed dead. That is, they had become entirely overgrown with brushwood and brambles. The Negroes worked away with the will. Hercules in particular, who temporarily resigned his charge to Nan, wielded his axe with marvelous 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 labor was not a very long duration. After about a mile and opening a muttered 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 feed. 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 all 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 amorous 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 did it came in contact with the scattered bones. While ever and again huge goat suckers, disturbed by the approach of the travelers, rose with flapping wings and circled round their heads. The youth's heart sank with secret dismay, lest Mrs. Vodin should divine the meaning of this ghastly scene, and appealed 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. Nam was by her side, almost equally engrossed. All Tom alone was fully aligned to the significance of his surroundings, and with downcast eyes he warmfully 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 his 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 labor of cutting away through the entanglement of bushes and creepers that would thick upon the soil. It was no longer forest through which they were winding 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 travelers were crossing plains that in a long rainy season must be inundated. The ground was carpeted with exuriant mosses and graceful ferns, and the continual appearance of brown hematite, wherever there was a rise in the soil, betook on the existence of a rich vein of metal beneath. Remembering what he had read in Dr. Livingston's account of these treacherous swamps, Dave baited his companions to 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, Dave replied, Dick, why we should get away from these marshes as quickly as possible. Carry Jack again, Hercules, and you, Bat and Austin, and keep close to Mrs. Walden, 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 as the unfortunate naturalist was dragged down, covered with mud almost to his waist, but thoroughly satisfied because his precious box of specimens had suffered no injury. Actaeon 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 and 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 infrequently very dangerous, and Livingston, 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 win their cautious way across the spongy soil. Mrs. Walden, ankle deep in the soft mud, was at last compelled to come to a standstill, and Hercules, Bat, and Austin all resolved that she should be spared for the 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 Poseidon to take her place. After delayed thus cause, 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. Actaeon 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-ranked grass that, on the margin of the swamps, was terribly tough. But in spite of the greatest precaution, there was not one of them who escaped, occasionally sinking up to his knees and slush. At about five o'clock, they were relieved by finding themselves on ground of a more clay-y character. It was still soft and porous below, but its surface was hard enough to give it secure a 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. 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 that they would be able to find themselves free from any danger caused by the rising flood. Push on, friends, push on, he cried. Three more miles more, and we shall be out of this treacherous lowland. His words served to inspire fresh confidence, and in spite of all the previous fatigue, every energy was brought into play with renewed vigor. Hercules, in particular, seemed ready to carry the whole party if it had been in his power. The storm was not long and beginning. The rising ground was still two miles away, although the sun was above the horizon, the darkness was also most complete. The overhanging volumes of vapor 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 travelers were in peril, 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 endeavored 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 downpour. "'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 be drowned. "'But where are we to go?' repeated Dick, and despair. "'If there 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 follow 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 carefully avoided. "'I will go in advance,' said Dick, after moments of reflection, and reconnoiter it. "'Let one of us at least go with you,' replied Tom. "'No, stay where you are. "'I should be much less likely to be discovered if I go alone.' Without another word, he darted off, and was soon lost in the somber 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 at the rest of the party, who consequently had not overheard their conversation. A halt being made, Mrs. Walden 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 on forward to investigate it. Mrs. Walden 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. "'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, and there is no other insect that could make them. Wonderful architects of the termites. Termites are 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. "'Going 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 Mrs. Walden 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 will be impossible to stand against the advancing tempest. The nearest of the accumulation of anthills was reached in time, and however dangerous their occupants might be, it was decided either to expel them or to share their quarters. Each comb 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 emit his own huge body. Not an ant made its appearance. Captain 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 into horrific torrents, strong enough to extinguish one would think the most violent explosions of the electric fluid, but the travelers were secure in their shelter, and had nothing to fear for the present. The attendantment was of greater stability than a tent or a native hut. It was one of those marvelous structures erected by little insects, which to Cameron appeared even more wonderful than the uprising 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 labor of a nation. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Alex C. Tlander, Davis, California. Dick Sands, the boy-captain, by Jules Verne, translated by Ellen E. Fruehrer. Part II. CHAPTER V. WHITE ANTS. The storm had now burst in full fury, and fortunately it was that a refuge had been found. The rain did not fall in separate drops as in temperate zones that 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 to the storms of higher latitudes, of which the duration seemed ordinarily to be an 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 when such volumes of vapor and electric fluid can accumulate. The earth, upon these occasions, might also seem to be carried back to their remote period, which has been called the Deluvian Age. Happily the walls of the ant hill were very thick. No beaver-hut formed of pounded earth could be more privately watertight, 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 of the base, gradually narrowing to a sugar-loafed top. The walls and partitions between the tiers of sails were no way less than a foot thick throughout. These wonderful erections the result of the combined labor of innumerable insects, all by no means uncommon in the heart of Africa. Smithman, a Dutch traveler of the last century, has recorded how he and his four companions, all at one time, occupied the summons of one of them in Luende. Limonson noticed some made of red clay, at which the height varied from fifteen to twenty feet, and in Yangwei, Cameron several times, Smith took 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 an actress that had been informed by the termes known as Termes Beliscosis. Had it been made of gray or blank alluvial soil, it might have been attributed to the termes Mordax, or termes Atrox, formidable names that must awaken anything of pleasure in the minds of all but enthusiast entomologists. In the center was an open space, surrounded by roomy compartments, ranged one upon another, like the births of a ship cabin, unlined with the millions of sails 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. Waldo and Jack, Nan, and Cousin Benedict were exalted to the upper tier. Austin, Bette, and Actaeon 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, and maybe that we shall have to 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 sails and to spread the dry, brittle clay at 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. It was indeed fortunate that the termites had abandoned their home. Had it sworn with its multitudes of voracious neuropteria, the anthill would have been utterly untenable for human beings. Cousin Benedict's curiosity was awakened, and he was intensely interested in the question of the evacuation, so that he proceeded at once to investigate if he could whether the emigration had been recent or otherwise. He took the lantern, and as a result of his scrutiny he soon discovered in a recess what he described as the termite storehouse, or the place where the indefatigable insects kept their provisions. It was a large cavity not far from the royal cell, which, together with the cells for the reception of the young larvae, had been storied by Hercules in the course of his flooring operations. Out of this receptacle, Benedict drew a considerable quantity of gum and vegetable juices, all in a state so liquid as to demonstrate that they had been deposited quite recently. They have only just gone, he exclaimed, with an air of authority as if he had imagined that someone was about to challenge his assertion. We are not going to dispute your word, Mr. Benedict. So, Dick, here we are. We have taken their place and shall be quite content for them to keep out of the way, without caring when they went or where they have gone. But we must care, retorted Benedict, testily, why they have gone concerned that's a good deal. These juices make it evident from the liquid state in which we find them that the ants were here this morning. They have not only gone, but they have carried off their young larvae with them. They have been sagacious enough to take warning of some impeding danger. Perhaps they heard that we were coming, said Hercules, laughing. A look of withering scorn was the only answer that the entomologist deigned to give. Yes, I repeat it, Hercules. Perhaps they heard that we were coming. Pshaw! said Benedict contemptuously. Do you imagine that they would be afraid of you? They would reduce your carcass to a skeleton in no time if they found it across their path. No doubt, if I were dead, replied Hercules. They could pick my bones pretty clean, but while I had the eats of my limbs, I think I could crush them by thousands. Thousands, ejaculated Benedict, with increasing warmth. You think you could demolish thousands, but I don't know if there were hundreds of thousands, millions, hundreds of millions. Alive as much as dead, I tell you, they wouldn't be long and consuming every morsel of you. During this brisk little discussion, Dick Sands had been pondering over what Benedict had said. There was no doubt that the amateur elatris was well acquainted with the habits of white ants, and if, as he affirmed, the insects had instinctively quitted their abode on account of some approaching danger, Dick asked them to help whether it was safe or prudent for this party to remain. But the fury of the storm was still so great that all possibility of removing from the shelter seemed precluded for the present, and without inquiring further into the mystery, he merely said, Although the ants, Mr. Benedict, have left us their provisions, we must not forget that we have brought our own. We will have our supper now, and tomorrow when the storm is over we will see what is to be done. The tea did not take away the appetite of the energetic travelers, and they gladly said about the preparation to their meal. The provisions of which they had enough for another two days had not been injured by the rain. For some minutes the crunching of hard biscuit was the only sound to be heard. Hercules in particular seemed to pound away with huge jaws as with a pair of millstones. Mrs. Bottom was the only one of the party who ate little, and that little was only taken at Dick's earliest solicitation. He could not help noticing with much concern that although Jack seemed to be satisfactorily recovering and without sign of fever, was sleeping calmly enough on a bed made up of clothes spread out in one of the cells, yet his mother had lost much of her courage and seemed preoccupied and depressed. Cousin Benedict did do honour to the simple evening or past, not on account of its quantity or quality, but because he gave him an opportunity of holding forth upon the subject of termites. He was much vexed that he had been unable to discover a single specimen in the deserted Ant Hill with which he could illustrate his lecture, but now withstanding this deficiency he continued to talk, he listened to whether anyone was listening. They were wonderful insects, he said. They belonged to the order of the Neuroptera, which had the antennae longer than the head. Their mandibles are well developed, and the inferior pair of wings is generally as large as the superior. There are five families of them, the Pernopidae, the Myromeloneidae, the Hermorobidae, the Termitini, and the Perlidae. I need hardly say that what we are now occupying is the dwelling of the Termitini. At this point Dick became all attention. He was anxious to ascertain whether this discovery of white ants had aroused any suspicion in Benedict's mind that they must be on African soil. The naturalist, now fairly mounted on a favourite hobby, went on with his discourse. I am sorry not to have a specimen to show you, but these Termitini have four joints in the Tarsie and strong horny mandibles. The family includes as genera the Mantispa, the Raphidia, and the Termis, the last commonly known as white ants, amongst which are Termis Fatalis, Termis Lucifugans, Termis Mordax, and several other more or less rare. And which of them built this ant hill, inquired Dick. The Bellicosi, replied Benedict, pronouncing the name with as much pride as if he were eulogizing the Macedonians on some war-like nation of antiquity. Bellicosi, he continued, are to be found of every size. There is as much difference between the largest and the smallest of them as there is between Hercules and a Dwarf. The workers are about one-fifth of an inch long. The soldiers or fighting ants are half an inch, whilst the males and females measure four-fifths of an inch. There is another curious species called Cyrofus, which are about half an inch long and have pincers instead of mandibles and heads larger than their bodies, like sharks. In fact, in sharks and Cyrofus were placed in competition, I should be inclined to back the sharks. And where are the Cyrofus most generally to be found? said Dick cautiously. In Africa, in the southern and central provinces, Africa may truly be termed the land of ants. Livingston, in the notes brought home by Stanley, describes a battle which he was fortunate enough to witness between an army of black ants and an army of red. The black ants, or drivers, which are what the natives call Cyrofus, got the best of it, and the red ants, or Tichungus, or after a very resolute defense, were obliged to retire and defeated, carrying their eggs and young ones with them. Livingston avows that he never saw the warlike instincts so strongly developed as in the Cyrofus. The Stoutest Man, the largest animal, a lion or an elephant, quails before the grip of their mandibles. No obstacle impedes their progress. No tree is too lofty for them to scale and they are contrived to cross wide streams by forming their own bodies into a kind of suspension bridge. Equally amazing are their numbers. Dr. Chailu, another African traveler, relates how it took more than 12 hours for a column of ants to file past him, without a moment's pause in their march. These numbers, however, seem to be so surprising when it is explained that their fecundity is such that a single female of the termites, Bellicosi, has been estimated to produce as many as 60,000 eggs a day. These Neuroptera furnish the natives with a favorite food, Grilled Ants, being very delicacy. Have you ever tasted them? asked her colleagues with a grin. Never answered the naturalist. By him in hopes I shall have a chance of doing so very soon. Surely you don't imagine yourself in Africa, said Tom suddenly. Africa? No. Why should I? replied Benedict. But, as I have already seen as Seetzee in America, I do not despair of having the satisfaction of discovering white ants there, too. You do not know the sensation I shall make in Europe when I publish my folio volume and its illustrations. It was evident that the truth had yet entered poor Benedict's brain, and it seemed likely that it would require a demonstration far more striking than any natural phenomena to undeceive the minds of such a party as were not already in possession of the fatal secret. Although it was nine o'clock, Cousin Benedict went on talking incessantly, regardless of the fact that one by one his audience were falling to sleep in their separate cells. Dick Sanis did not sleep, or neither did he interrupt the night, but at length he too succumbed to weariness, and his eyes and ears were closed to all external sights and sounds. But endurance has limits, and at last Cousin Benedict, having worn himself out, clambered up to the topmost cell of the Cone, which he had chosen for his dormitory, and fell into a peaceful slumber. The lantern had already been extinguished, all was darkness and silence within, whilst the storm without still raged with the violence that gave no sign of abatement. Dick Sanis himself was overtaken in the repose that was so indispensable to them all, but he could not sleep, his every thought was absorbed in the responsibility that rested on him to rescue those under his charge from the dangers that threatened them. Again and again he recalled every incident that had occurred since the loss of Captain Hull and his crew. He remembered the occasion when he had stood with his pistol pointed at Nogoro's head, why or why had his hand fall to then? Why had he not at that moment hurled and relieved himself and his partners in trouble from the catastrophe that has since been following them? Perra was still staring them in the face, and his sole drop of consolation in the bitter cub of despondency was that Mrs. Weldon was still ignorant of their real situation. At that moment, just in the fever of his agony, he felt a light breath upon his forehead, a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a gentle voice mirrored in his ear. My poor boy, I know everything. God will help me. Dick Sands the Boy Captain by Jules Verne translated by Ellen E. Frerre Part II Chapter 6 A Diving Bell This sudden revelation that Mrs. Weldon was acquainted with the true state of things left Dick speechless. Even had he been capable of replying, she gave him no opportunity, but immediately retired to the side of her son. The various incidents in the march had all gradually enlightened her, and perhaps the exclamation of Cousin Benedict on the morning had crowded them all. Anyhow, the brave lady now knew the worst. Dick felt, however, that she did not despair. Neither would he. He lay along for dawn when he hoped to explore the situation better and perchance to find the water-course which he was convinced could not be far distant. Moreover, he was extremely anxious to be out of the reach of the natives whom it was only too likely Nagoro and Harris might be putting on their wreck. But as yet, no glimmer of daylight penetrated the aperture of the cone, whilst the heavy rumblings, as they were, by the thickness of the walls, made it certain that the storm was still raging with undiminished fury. Attentively, Dick listened, and he could distinctly hear the rain beating around the base of the anthill. The heavy drops splashed again as they fell and away altogether different to what they would upon solid ground, so that he felt sure that the adjacent land was by this time completely flooded. He was getting very drowsy when it suddenly occurred to him that it was not unlikely the aperture was getting better. In that case he knew that the breath of the inmates would quickly vitiate the internal atmosphere. He crept along the ground and had the satisfaction of finding that the clay embankment was still perfectly dry, the orifice was quite unobstructed, allowing not only a free passage to the air, but admitting the glare of the occasional flashes of lightning, which the descending volumes of water did not seem to stay. Having thus far satisfied himself that all was well, and that there was no immediate relief now resigned himself to sleep as well as the rest. He took the precaution, however, of stretching himself upon the embankment with an easy reach to the opening, and with his head supported against the wall after a while dozed off. How long his light slumber had lasted he could not say when he was aroused by a sensation of cold. He started up and to his horror discovered that the water had entered the anthill and was rising rapidly. It could not be long he saw before it reached the cells which were occupied by Hercules and Tom. He woke them at once and told them what he had observed. The lantern was soon lighted and they set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making. It rose for about five feet when it was found to remain stationary. What is the matter, Dick, inquired Mrs. Walden, disturbed by the movements of the men. Nothing very alarming adds to Dick promptly. Only some water has found its way into the lower part of the place. It will not reach your upper cells. Probably some river has overflowed its boundaries. The very river, perhaps, certainly, that is to carry us to the coast. Mrs. Walden made no reply. Cousin Benedict was still sleeping as soundly as if he were himself a white ant. The negroes appearing down on the sheet of water which reflected back the rays of the lantern, ready to carry out any orders given by Dick, who was quietly gauging the inundation and removing the provisions and firearms out of its reach. Did the water get in at the opening, Mr. Dick, asked Tom? Yes, Tom, and consequently we are coming to the end of our stalk of fresh air, Mr. Dick's reply. But why should we not make another opening above the water level, Tom inquired? A thing to be thought about, said Dick, but we have to remember that if we have five feet of water here inside, there's probably a depth of six or seven outside. In rising here the flood has compressed the air and made it an obstacle to further progress. But if we allow the air to escape, we may perhaps only be letting the water to rise too high for our safety. We were just as if we were in a diving-bill. Then what is to be done? asked the general. No doubt, replied Dick, we must proceed very cautiously. An inconsiderate step will jeopardize our lives. Dick's sense was quite correct in comparing the cone to an immersed, wide-diving bell. In that mechanical contrivance, however, the air can always be renewed by means of pumps, so that it can be occupied without inconvenience beyond what is entailed by a somewhat confined atmosphere. But here the interior space had already been reduced by a third port through the encroachment of the water, and there was no method of air, except by opening a new aperture, an operation in which there was manifest danger. Dick did not entertain the slightest apprehension that the ant hill would be carried away bodily by the inundation. He knew that it would adhere to its base as firmly as a beaver hut. What he really dreaded was that the storm would last so long that the flood would rise high above the plain, perhaps submerging the ant hill entirely, so that ultimately all air would be expelled by the persistent pressure. The more he pondered, the the inundation would be wide and deep. It could not be he felt sure, entirely owing to the downpour from the clouds that the rapid flood was rising, that must have been the sudden overflowing of some stream to cause such a deluge over the low-lying plain. It could not be proved that the ant hill was not already under water, so that an escape might be no longer possible, even from its highest point. With all Dick's courage it was yet evident that he was very uneasy. He did not know what to do, and asked himself again whether patient waiting or decisive action would be his more prudent course. It was now about three o'clock in the morning. All within the ant hill were silent and motionless, listening to the incessant turmoil which told that the strife of the elements had not yet ceased. Presently old Tom pointed out that the height of the water was gradually increasing, but only by very slow ascent. Dick could only say that if the flood continued to rise, however slowly, it must inevitably drive out the air. As if struck by a sudden thought, that cold out, let me try and get outside. Perhaps I might dive and get through the opening. I think I'd better make that experiment myself," answered Dick. That you never shall, I deposed Tom peremptily. You must let Bat go. It may not be possible to get back, and your presence is indispensable here. Think, sir, think of this as well as a Master Jack he added in a lower tone. Well, well, Dick assented. If it must be so, Bat shall go. And turning to Bat, he continued, do not try to come back again. We will try if we can to follow you the same way, but if the top of the coat is still above water, knock hard on it with your hatchet, and we shall take it as a signal that we may break out our way out. Do you understand? All right, he said. All right, sir. And after rigging his father's hand, he drew a long breath and plunged into the water that filled the lower section of the anthill. It was an exploit that required considerable agility. The diver would have to find the orifice, make his way through it, and without loss of a moment, let himself rise to full half a minute elapsed, and Dick was making sure that the Negro had been successful in his effort, when his black head emerged from the water. There was a general exclamation of surprise. It is blocked up, gas-bat. As soon as he recovered breath enough to speak. Blocked up, cried to him? Yes, bat affirmed. I felt all round the wall, very carefully with my hand, and I am sure there is no hole left. I suppose the water has dissolved the clay. If he could not find a hole, exclaimed Hercules, I can very soon and he was just about to plunge his hatchet into the side of the anthill when Dick prevented him. Stop, stop! You must not be in such a hurry. He reflected for a few moments and went on. We must be cautious. An impetuous step may be destruction. Perhaps the water is over the top. If it is allowed to enter, then at once is an end of all. Whatever we do, urged Tom, must be done at once. There is no time to lose. He was right. The water had risen till it was quite six feet deep. None but Mrs. Golden, Jack, Nan, and Cousin Benedict, who were lodged in the upper cells, were fairly above its surface. Dick now came to his determination at about a foot above the water level, that is, about seven feet from the ground. He resolved to bore a hole through the clay. If he should find himself in communication with the open air he would have the proof he desired that the top of the cone was still uncovered. If on the other hand he should ascertain that he appears the wall below the surface of the external water level instantaneously, and repeat the experiment higher up, it was true that the inundation might have risen even fifteen feet above the plain. In that case the worse had come, and there was no alternative but that they must all die of asphyxia. Carefully considering the chances of his undertaking, Dick calmly and steadily said about his task. The best instrument that suggested itself for this purpose was the ramrod of a gun, which, having a short of corkscrew at the end for extrunning the wadding, would serve the hole would be very small, but yet large enough for the requisite test. Hercules showed himself all the light he could by holding up the lantern. There were several candles left, so that they were not in fear of being altogether in darkness. The operation hardly took a minute. The ramrod passed through the clay without difficulty. Muffled sand was extinguished as if air bubbles rushing through a column of water, as the air escaped the water and the cone were as perceptively. The hole had been pierced too low. A handful of clay was immediately forced which was thus effectually plugged, and Dick turned round quietly and said we must try again. The water had again become stationary, but its last rise had diminished the amount of breathing space by more than eight inches. The supply of oxygen was beginning to fall, respiration was becoming difficult, and the flame of the candle burned red and dim. About a foot higher than the first, Dick now said about boring a second. The experiment might again prove a failure, and the water rise yet higher in the cone, but the risk must be run. Just as the augur was being inserted, a loud exclamation of delight was heard proceeding from Cousin Benedict's cell. Dick paused and Hercules turned the lantern towards the excited naturalist, who seemed beaming with satisfaction. Yes, yes, I see it all well enough, he cried. I know now why the termites left their home. They were wide awake. They were more clever than we are. They knew that the storm was coming. Finding that this was all the worthy entomologists had to communicate, Dick without comment turned back again to his operation. Again the gurgling noise, again the water's upward rush. For the second time he had failed to affect an aperture to the outer air. The situation was, to the last degree, becoming alarming. The water had all but reached Mrs. Bowden, and she was obliged to take her boy into her arms. Everyone felt nearly stifled. A loud singing was heard in the ears, and the lantern showed barely any light at all. A few minutes more, and the air were being capable of supporting life. One chance alone remained. They must bore another hole at the very summit of the Cone. Not that they were unaware of the intimate danger of this measure, for if the ant who were really submerged, the water from below would immediately expel the remaining air, and death must be instantaneous. A few brief words from Dick explained the emergency of the crisis, with Mrs. Bowden recognized the necessity. Yes, Dick, do it. There is nothing else to be done. While she was speaking the light flickered out, and they were in total darkness. Mountain on the shoulders of Hercules, who was crouching in one of the side cells, his head only just above the water, Dick proceeded to force the ramrod into the clay, which at the vertex of the ant hill was considerably harder and thicker than elsewhere. A strange mingling of hope and fear thrilled through Dick's sands as he applied his hand to make the opening, which was to admit life and air, or the flood of death. The silence of the general expectation was broken by the noise of a sharp hissing. The water rose for eight inches, but all at once ceased to rise. It had found its level. No need this time to close the orifice. The top of the ant hill was higher than the top of the flood, and for the present, at least, they could all rejoice that their lives were spared. A general cheer led by the stentorian voice of Hercules involuntarily broke from the party. Cutlasses were brought into action, and the clay crumbled away beneath a vigorous assault that was made upon it. The welcome air was emitted through the new-made aperture, bringing with it the first rays of the rising sun. The water of the ant hill, once removed, it would be quite easy to clamor to the top, and once it was hoped they would soon get away to some high ground at a reach of the flood. Dick was the first to melt the summit, but a cry of dismay burst from his lips. A sound only too well known to travelers in Africa broke upon his ear. That sound was the whizzing of arrows. Hardly a hundred yards away was a large encampment. Whilst in the water, quite close to the ant hill where he stood, he saw some long boats full of natives. For one of these had come of the valley of Alvars, which had greeted his appearance above the opening of the Cone. To tell his people what had happened was the work of a moment. He seized his gun, and married Hercules, Bat, and Actaeon, take theirs, and all fires simultaneously at the nearest boat. Several of the natives were seen to fall, but shouts of defiance were raised, and the shots were fired in return. Resistance was manifestly useless. What could they do against a hundred natives? They were sailed on every hand. In accordance with a concerted plan, they were carried off from the ant hill with brutal violence in two parties, without the chance of a farewell word or sign. Dick Sand saw that Mrs. Bowdoin, Jack, and cousin Benedict were placed on board one boat, and were conveyed towards the camp, whilst he himself, with the five negroes and old Nan, was forced into another, and taken in a different direction. Twenty natives formed a bodyguard around them, and five boats followed in the rear. Useless there it were, Dick and the negroes made an attempt to maintain their freedom. They wounded several of their antagonists, and would doubtless have paid their lives as a penalty for their daring, if there had not been special orders given that they should be taken alive. The passage of the flood was soon accomplished. The boat had barely touched the shore, when Hercules, with a tremendous bound, sprang onto the land. Instantly two natives rushed upon him. The giant clay of their skulls was at the butt end of his gun, and made off. Followed though he was by a store of bullets, disappeared beneath the cover of the woods. Dick sands and the others were guarded to the shore, and fettered like slaves.