When tea was over he first washed up the things and then started for a ramble. He followed the broad straight road to Waterloo Bridge, stood for a long time looking at the river, and then crossed into the Strand. The lamps were now alight and the brightness and bustle of the scene greatly interested him. At nine o'clock he returned to his lodgings, but was again obliged to sally out, as he found he had forgotten candles.

After breakfast next morning he went out and bought a newspaper, and set himself to work to study the advertisements. He was dismayed to find how many more applicants there were for places than places requiring to be filled. All the persons advertising were older than himself, and seemed to possess various accomplishments in the way of languages; many too could be strongly recommended from their last situation. The prospect did not look hopeful. In the first place he had looked to see if any required boy clerks, but this species of assistant appeared little in demand; and then, although he hoped that it would not come to that, he ran his eye down the columns to see if any required errand boys or lads in manufacturing businesses. He found, however, no such advertisements. However, as he said to himself, it could not be expected that he should find a place waiting for him on the very day after his arrival, and that he ought to be able to live for a year on his five and twenty pounds; at this reflection his spirits rose and he went out again for a walk.

For the first week, indeed, of his arrival in London Frank did not set himself very earnestly to work to look for a situation. In his walks about the streets he several times observed cards in the window indicating that an errand boy was wanted. He resolved, however, that this should be the last resource which he would adopt, as he would much prefer to go to work as a common lad in a factory to serving in a shop. After the first week he answered many advertisements, but in no case received a reply. In one case, in which it was stated that a lad who could write a good fast hand was required in an office, wages to begin with eight shillings a week, he called two days after writing. It was a small office with a solitary clerk sitting in it. The latter, upon learning Frank's business, replied with some exasperation that his mind was being worried out by boys.

"We have had four hundred and thirty letters," he said; "and I should think that a hundred boys must have called. We took the first who applied, and all the other letters were chucked into the fire as soon as we saw what they were about."

Frank returned to the street greatly disheartened.

"Four hundred and thirty letters!" he said. "Four hundred and thirty other fellows on the lookout, just as I am, for a place as a boy clerk, and lots of them, no doubt, with friends and relations to recommend them! The lookout seems to be a bad one."

Two days later, when Frank was walking along the strand he noticed the placards in front of a theater.

"Gallery one shilling!" he said to himself; "I will go. I have never seen a theater yet."

The play was The Merchant of Venice, and Frank sat in rapt attention and interest through it. When the performance was over he walked briskly homewards. When he had proceeded some distance he saw a glare in the sky ahead, and presently a steam engine dashed past him at full speed.

"That must be a house on fire," he said. "I have never seen a fire;" and he broke into a run.

Others were running in the same direction, and as he passed the "Elephant and Castle" the crowd became thicker, and when within fifty yards of the house he could no longer advance. He could see the flames now rising high in the air. A horrible fear seized him.

"It must be," he exclaimed to himself, "either our house or the one next door."

It was in vain that he pressed forward to see more nearly. A line of policemen was drawn up across the road to keep a large space clear for the firemen. Behind the policemen the crowd were thickly packed. Frank inquired of many who stood near him if they could tell him the number of the house which was on fire; but none could inform him.

Presently the flames began to die away, and the crowd to disperse. At length Frank reached the first line of spectators.

"Can you tell me the number of the houses which are burned?" Frank said to a policeman.

"There are two of them," the policeman said "a hundred and four and a hundred and five. A hundred and four caught first, and they say that a woman and two children have been burned to death."

"That is where I live!" Frank cried. "Oh, please let me pass!"

"I'll pass you in," the policeman said good naturedly, and he led him forward to the spot where the engines were playing upon the burning houses. "Is it true, mate," he asked a fireman, "that a woman and two children have been burned?"

"It's true enough," the fireman said. "The landlady and her children. Her husband was a porter at the railway station, and had been detained on overtime. He only came back a quarter of an hour ago, and he's been going on like a madman;" and he pointed to the porter, who was sitting down on the doorsteps of a house facing his own, with his face hidden in his hands.

Frank went and sat down beside him.

"My poor fellow," he said, "I am sorry for you."

Frank had had many chats with his landlord of an evening, and had become quite friendly with him and his wife.

"I can't believe it," the man said huskily. "Just to think! When I went out this morning there was Jane and the kids, as well and as happy as ever, and there, where are they now?"

"Happier still," Frank said gently. "I lost my mother just as suddenly only five weeks ago. I went out for a walk, leaving her as well as usual, and when I came back she was dead; so I can feel for you with all my heart."

"I would have given my life for them," the man said, wiping his eyes, "willing."

"I'm sure you would," Frank answered.

"There's the home gone," the man said, "with all the things that it took ten years' savings of Jane and me to buy; not that that matters one way or the other now. And your traps are gone, too, I suppose, sir."

"Yes," Frank replied quietly, "I have lost my clothes and twenty-three pounds in money; every penny I've got in the world except half a crown in my pocket."

"And you don't say nothing about it!" the man said, roused into animation. "But, there, perhaps you've friends as will make it up to you."

"I have no one in the world," Frank answered, "whom I could ask to give me a helping hand."

"Well, you are a plucky chap," the man said. "That would be a knock down blow to a man, let alone a boy like you. What are you going to do now?" he asked, forgetting for the moment his own loss, in his interest in his companion.

"I don't know," Frank replied. "Perhaps," he added, seeing that the interest in his condition roused the poor fellow from the thought of his own deep sorrow, "you might give me some advice. I was thinking of getting a place in an office, but of course I must give that up now, and should be thankful to get anything by which I can earn my bread."

"You come along with me," the man said rising. "You've done me a heap of good. It's no use sitting here. I shall go back to the station, and turn in on some sacks. If you've nothing better to do, and nowhere to go to, you come along with me. We will talk it all over."

Pleased to have some one to talk to, and glad that he should not have to look for a place to sleep, Frank accompanied the porter to the station. With a word or two to the nightmen on duty, the porter led the way to a shed near the station, where a number of sacks were heaped in a corner.

"Now," the man said, "I will light a pipe. It's against the regulations, but that's neither here nor there now. Now, if you're not sleepy, would you mind talking to me? Tell me something about yourself, and how you come to be alone here in London. It does me good to talk. It prevents me from thinking."

"There is very little to tell," Frank said; and he related to him the circumstances of the deaths of his father and mother, and how it came that he was alone in London in search of a place.

"You're in a fix," the porter said.

"Yes, I can see that."

"You see you're young for most work, and you never had no practice with horses, or you might have got a place to drive a light cart. Then, again, your knowing nothing of London is against you as an errand boy; and what's worse than all this, anyone can see with half an eye that you're a gentleman, and not accustomed to hard work. However, we will think it over. The daylight's breaking now, and I has to be at work at six. But look ye here, young fellow, tomorrow I've got to look for a room, and when I gets it there's half of it for you, if you're not too proud to accept it. It will be doing me a real kindness, I can tell you, for what I am to do alone of an evening without Jane and the kids, God knows. I can't believe they're gone yet."

Then the man threw himself down upon the sacks, and broke into sobs. Frank listened for half an hour till these gradually died away, and he knew by the regular breathing that his companion was asleep. It was long after this before he himself closed his eyes. The position did, indeed, appear a dark one. Thanks to the offer of his companion, which he at once resolved to accept for a time, he would have a roof to sleep under. But this could not last; and what was he to do? Perhaps he had been wrong in not writing at once to Ruthven and his schoolfellows. He even felt sure he had been wrong; but it would be ten times as hard to write now. He would rather starve than do this. How was he to earn his living? He would, he determined, at any rate try for a few days to procure a place as an errand boy. If that failed, he would sell his clothes, and get a rough working suit. He was sure that he should have more chance of obtaining work in such a dress than in his present attire.

Musing thus, Frank at last dropped off to sleep. When he woke he found himself alone, his companion having left without disturbing him. From the noises around him of trains coming in and out, Frank judged that the hour was late.

"I have done one wise thing," he said, "anyhow, and as far as I can see it's the only one, in leaving my watch with the doctor to keep. He pointed out that I might have it stolen if I carried it, and that there was no use in keeping it shut up in a box. Very possibly it might be stolen by the dishonesty of a servant. That's safe anyhow, and it is my only worldly possession, except the books, and I would rather go into the workhouse than part with either of them."

Rising, he made his way into the station, where he found the porter at his usual work.

"I would not wake you," the man said; "you were sleeping so quiet, and I knew 'twas no use your getting up early. I shall go out and settle for a room at dinner time. If you will come here at six o'clock we'll go off together. The mates have all been very kind, and have been making a collection to bury my poor girl and the kids. They've found 'em, and the inquest is tomorrow, so I shall be off work. The governor has offered me a week; but there, I'd rather be here where there's no time for thinking, than hanging about with nothing to do but to drink."



CHAPTER VI: THE FIRST STEP

All that day Frank tramped the streets. He went into many shops where he saw notices that an errand boy was required, but everywhere without success. He perceived at once that his appearance was against him, and he either received the abrupt answer of, "You're not the sort of chap for my place," or an equally decided refusal upon the grounds that he did not know the neighborhood, or that they preferred one who had parents who lived close by and could speak for him.

At six o'clock he rejoined the porter. He brought with him some bread and butter and a piece of bacon. When, on arriving at the lodging of his new friend, a neat room with two small beds in it, he produced and opened his parcel, the porter said angrily, "Don't you do that again, young fellow, or we shall have words. You're just coming to stop with me for a bit till you see your way, and I'm not going to have you bring things in here. My money is good for two months, and your living here with me won't cost three shillings a week. So don't you hurt my feelings by bringing things home again. There, don't say no more about it."

Frank, seeing that his companion was really in earnest, said no more, and was the less reluctant to accept the other's kindness as he saw that his society was really a great relief to him in his trouble. After the meal they sallied out to a second hand clothes shop. Here Frank disposed of his things, and received in return a good suit of clothes fit for a working lad.

"I don't know how it is," the porter said as they sat together afterwards, "but a gentleman looks like a gentleman put him in what clothes you will. I could have sworn to your being that if I'd never seen you before. I can't make it out, I don't know what it is, but there's certainly something in gentle blood, whatever you may say about it. Some of my mates are forever saying that one man's as good as another. Now I don't mean to say they ain't as good; but what I say is, as they ain't the same. One man ain't the same as another any more than a race horse is the same as a cart horse. They both sprang from the same stock, at least so they says; but breeding and feeding and care has made one into a slim boned creature as can run like the wind, while the other has got big bones and weight and can drag his two ton after him without turning a hair. Now, I take it, it's the same thing with gentlefolks and working men. It isn't that one's bigger than the other, for I don't see much difference that way; but a gentleman's lighter in the bone, and his hands and his feet are smaller, and he carries himself altogether different. His voice gets a different tone. Why, Lord bless you, when I hears two men coming along the platform at night, even when I can't see 'em, and can't hear what they says, only the tone of their voices, I knows just as well whether it's a first class or a third door as I've got to open as if I saw 'em in the daylight. Rum, ain't it?"

Frank had never thought the matter out, and could only give his general assent to his companion's proposition.

"Now," the porter went on, "if you go into a factory or workshop, I'll bet a crown to a penny that before you've been there a week you'll get called Gentleman Jack, or some such name. You see if you ain't."

"I don't care what they call me," Frank laughed, "so that they'll take me into the factory."

"All in good time," the porter said; "don't you hurry yourself. As long as you can stay here you'll be heartily welcome. Just look what a comfort it is to have you sitting here sociable and comfortable. You don't suppose I could have sat here alone in this room if you hadn't been here? I should have been in a public house making a beast of myself, and spending as much money as would keep the pair of us."

Day after day Frank went out in search of work. In his tramps he visited scores of workshops and factories, but without success. Either they did not want boys, or they declined altogether to take one who had no experience in work, and had no references in the neighborhood. Frank took his breakfast and tea with the porter, and was glad that the latter had his dinner at the station, as a penny loaf served his purposes. One day in his walks Frank entered Covent Garden and stood looking on at the bustle and flow of business, for it happened to be market day. He leaned against one of the columns of the piazza, eating the bread he had just bought. Presently a sharp faced lad, a year or two younger than himself, came up to him.

"Give us a hit," he said, "I ain't tasted nothing today."

Frank broke the bread in half and gave a portion to him.

"What a lot there is going on here!" Frank said.

"Law!" the boy answered, "that ain't nothing to what it is of a morning. That's the time, 'special on the mornings of the flower market. It's hard lines if a chap can't pick up a tanner or even a bob then."

"How?" Frank asked eagerly.

"Why, by holding horses, helping to carry out plants, and such like. You seems a green 'un, you do. Up from the country, eh? Don't seem like one of our sort."

"Yes," Frank said, "I'm just up from the country. I thought it would be easy to get a place in London, but I don't find it so."

"A place!" the boy repeated scornfully. "I should like any one to see me in a place. It's better a hundred times to be your own master."

"Even if you do want a piece of bread sometimes?" Frank put in.

"Yes," the boy said. "When it ain't market day and ye haven't saved enough to buy a few papers or boxes of matches it does come hard. In winter the times is bad, but in summer we gets on fairish, and there ain't nothing to grumble about. Are you out of work yourself?"

"Yes," Frank answered, "I'm on the lookout for a job."

"You'd have a chance here in the morning," said the boy, looking at him. "You look decent, and might get a job unloading. They won't have us at no price, if they can help it."

"I will come and try anyhow," Frank said.

That evening Frank told his friend, the porter, that he thought of going out early next morning to try and pick up odd jobs at Covent Garden.

"Don't you think of it," the porter said. "There's nothing worse for a lad than taking to odd jobs. It gets him into bad ways and bad company. Don't you hurry. I have spoken to lots of my mates, and they're all on the lookout for you. We on the platform can't do much. It ain't in our line, you see; but in the goods department, where they are constant with vans and wagons and such like, they are likely enough to hear of something before long."

That night, thinking matters over in bed, Frank determined to go down to the docks and see if he could get a place as cabin boy. He had had this idea in his mind ever since he lost his money, and had only put it aside in order that he might, if possible, get some berth on shore which might seem likely in the end to afford him a means of making his way up again. It was not that he was afraid of the roughness of a cabin boy's life; it was only because he knew that it would be so very long before, working his way up from boy to able bodied seaman, he could obtain a mate's certificate, and so make a first step up the ladder. However, he thought that even this would be better than going as a wagoner's boy, and he accordingly crossed London Bridge, turned down Eastcheap, and presently found himself in Ratcliff Highway. He was amused here at the nautical character of the shops, and presently found himself staring into a window full of foreign birds, for the most part alive in cages, among which, however, were a few cases of stuffed birds.

"How stupid I have been!" he thought to himself. "I wonder I never thought of it before! I can stuff birds and beasts at any rate a deal better than those wooden looking things. I might have a chance of getting work at some naturalist's shop. I will get a directory and take down all the addresses in London, and then go around."

He now became conscious of a conversation going on between a little old man with a pair of thick horn rimmed spectacles and a sailor who had a dead parrot and a cat in his hand.

"I really cannot undertake them," the old man said. "Since the death of my daughter I have had but little time to attend to that branch. What with buying and selling, and feeding and attending to the live ones, I have no time for stuffing. Besides, if the things were poisoned, they would not be worth stuffing."

"It isn't the question of worth, skipper," the sailor said; "and I don't say, mind ye, that these here critturs was pisoned, only if you looks at it that this was the noisiest bird and the worst tempered thievingest cat in the neighborhood—though, Lord bless you, my missus wouldn't allow it for worlds—why, you know, when they were both found stiff and cold this morning people does have a sort of a suspicion as how they've been pisoned;" and he winked one eye in a portentous manner, and grinned hugely. "The missus she's in a nice taking, screeching, and yelling as you might hear her two cables' length away, and she turns round on me and will have it as I'd a hand in the matter. Well, just to show my innocence, I offers to get a glass case for 'em and have 'em stuffed, if it cost me a couple of pounds. I wouldn't care if they fell all to pieces a week afterwards, so that it pacified the old woman just at present. If I can't get 'em done I shall ship at once, for the place will be too hot to hold me. So you can't do it nohow?"

The old man shook his head, and the sailor was just turning off when Frank went up to him:

"Will you please wait a moment? Can I speak to you, sir, a minute?" he asked the old man.

The naturalist went into his shop, and Frank followed him.

"I can stuff birds and animals, sir," he said. "I think I really stuff them well, for some which I did for amusement were sold at ten shillings a case, and the man who bought them of me told me they would be worth four times as much in London. I am out of work, sir, and very very anxious to get my living. You will find me hard working and honest. Do give me a chance. Let me stuff that cat and parrot for the sailor. If you are not satisfied then, I will go away and charge nothing for it."

The man looked at him keenly.

"I will at any rate give you a trial," he said. Then he went to the door and called in the sailor. "This lad tells me he can stuff birds. I know nothing about him, but I believe he is speaking truthfully. If you like to intrust them to him he will do his best. If you're not satisfied he will make no charge."

Much pleased at seeing a way out of his dilemma, the sailor placed the dead animals on the counter.

"Now," the old man said to Frank, "you can take these out into the back yard and skin them. Then you can go to work in that back room. You will find arsenical soap, cotton wool, wires, and everything else you require there. This has been a fine cat," he said, looking at the animal.

"Yes, it has been a splendid creature," Frank answered. "It is a magnificent macaw also."

"Ah! you know it is a macaw!" the old man said.

"Of course," Frank said simply; "it has a tail."

The old man then furnished Frank with two or three sharp knives and scissors. Taking the bird and cat, he went out into the yard and in the course of an hour had skinned them both. Then he returned to the shop and set to work in the room behind.

"May I make a group of them?" he asked.

"Do them just as you like," the old man said.

After settling upon his subject, Frank set to work, and, except that he went out for five minutes to buy and eat a penny loaf, continued his work till nightfall. The old man came in several times to look at him, but each time went out again without making a remark. At six o'clock Frank laid down his tools.

"I will come again tomorrow, sir," he said.

The old man nodded, and Frank went home in high spirits. There was a prospect at last of getting something to do, and that in a line most congenial to his own tastes.

The old man looked up when he entered next morning.

"I shall not come in today," he remarked. "I will wait to see them finished."

Working without interruption till the evening, Frank finished them to his satisfaction, and enveloped them with many wrappings of thread to keep them in precisely the attitudes in which he had placed them.

"They are ready for drying now, sir," he said. "If I might place them in an oven they would be dried by morning."

The old man led the way to the kitchen, where a small fire was burning.

"I shall put no more coals on the fire," he said, "and it will be out in a quarter of an hour. Put them in there and leave the door open. I will close it in an hour when the oven cools."

The next day Frank was again at work. It took him all day to get fur and feather to lie exactly as he wished them. In the afternoon he asked the naturalist for a piece of flat board, three feet long, and a perch, but said that instead of the piece of board he should prefer mounting them in a case at once. The old man had not one in the shop large enough, and therefore Frank arranged his group temporarily on the table. On the board lay the cat. At first sight she seemed asleep, but it was clearly only seeming. Her eyes were half open, the upper lip was curled up, and the sharp teeth showed. The hind feet were drawn somewhat under her as in readiness for an instant spring. Her front paws were before her, the talons were somewhat stretched, and one paw was curved. Her ears lay slightly back. She was evidently on the point of springing. The macaw perch, which had been cut down to a height of two feet, stood behind her. The bird hung by its feet, and, head downwards, stretched with open beak towards the tip of the cat's tail, which was slightly uplifted. On a piece of paper Frank wrote, "Dangerous Play."

It was evening before he had finished perfectly to his satisfaction. Then he called the naturalist in. The old man stopped at the door, surveying the group. Then he entered and examined it carefully.

"Wonderful!" he said. "Wonderful! I should have thought them alive. There is not a shop in the West End where it could have been turned out better, if so well.

"Lad, you are a wonder! Tell me now who and what are you? I saw when you first addressed me that you were not what you seemed to be, a working lad."

"I have been well educated," Frank said, "and was taught to preserve and stuff by my father, who was a great naturalist. My parents died suddenly, and I was left on my own resources, which," he said, smiling faintly, "have hitherto proved of very small avail. I am glad you are pleased. If you will take me into your service I will work hard and make myself useful in every way. If you require references I can refer you to the doctor who attended us in the country; but I have not a single friend in London except a railway porter, who has most kindly and generously taken me in and sheltered me for the last two months."

"I need no references," the old man said; "your work speaks for itself as to your skill, and your face for your character. But I can offer you nothing fit for you. With such a genius as you have for setting up animals, you ought to be able to earn a good income. Not one man in a thousand can make a dead animal look like a live one. You have the knack or the art."

"I shall be very content with anything you can give me," Frank said; "for the present I only ask to earn my living. If later on I can, as you say, do more, all the better."

The old man stood for some time thinking, and presently said, "I do but little except in live stock. When I had my daughter with me I did a good deal of stuffing, for there is a considerable trade hereabout. The sailors bring home skins of foreign birds, and want them stuffed and put in cases, as presents for their wives and sweethearts. You work fast as well as skillfully. I have known men who would take a fortnight to do such a group as that, and then it would be a failure. It will be quite a new branch for my trade. I do not know how it will act yet, but to begin with I will give you twelve shillings a week, and a room upstairs. If it succeeds we will make other arrangements. I am an old man, and a very lonely one. I shall be glad to have such a companion."

Frank joyfully embraced the offer, and ran all the way home to tell his friend, the porter, of the engagement.

"I am very glad," the man said; "heartily glad. I shall miss you sorely. I do not know what I should have done without you when I first lost poor Jane and the kids. But now I can go back to my old ways again."

"Perhaps," Frank suggested, "you might arrange to have a room also in the house. It would not be a very long walk, not above twenty or five and twenty minutes, and I should be so glad to have you with me."

The man sat silent for a time. "No," he said at last, "I thank you all the same. I should like it too, but I don't think it would be best in the end. Here all my mates live near, and I shall get on in time. The Christmas holiday season will soon be coming on and we shall be up working late. If you were always going to stop at the place you are going to, it would be different; but you will rise, never fear. I shall be seeing you in gentleman's clothes again some of these days. I've heard you say you were longing to get your books and to be studying again, and you'll soon fall into your own ways; but if you will let me, I'll come over sometimes and have a cup of tea and a chat with you. Now, look here, I'm going out with you now, and I'm going to buy you a suit of clothes, something like what you had on when I first saw you. They won't be altogether unsuitable in a shop. This is a loan, mind, and you may pay me off as you get flush."

Frank saw he should hurt the good fellow's feelings by refusing, and accordingly went out with him, and next morning presented himself at the shop in a quiet suit of dark gray tweed, and with his other clothes in a bundle.

"Aha!" said the old man; "you look more as you ought to do now, though you're a cut above an assistant in a naturalist's shop in Ratcliff Highway. Now, let me tell you the names of some of these birds. They are, every one of them, foreigners; some of them I don't know myself."

"I can tell all the family names," Frank said quietly, "and the species, but I do not know the varieties."

"Can you!" the old man said in surprise. "What is this now?"

"That is a mockingbird, the great black capped mockingbird, I think. The one next to it is a golden lory."

So Frank went round all the cages and perches in the shop.

"Right in every case," the old man said enthusiastically; "I shall have nothing to teach you. The sailor has been here this morning. I offered him two pounds for the cat and bird to put in my front window, but he would not take it, and has paid me that sum for your work. Here it is. This is yours, you know. You were not in my employment then, and you will want some things to start with, no doubt. Now come upstairs, I will show you your room. I had intended at first to give you the one at the back, but I have decided now on giving you my daughter's. I think you will like it."

Frank did like it greatly. It was the front room on the second floor. The old man's daughter had evidently been a woman of taste and refinement. The room was prettily papered, a quiet carpet covered the floor, and the furniture was neat and in good keeping. Two pairs of spotless muslin curtains hung across the windows.

"I put them up this morning," the old man said, nodding. "I have got the sheets and bedding airing in the kitchen. They have not been out of the press for the last three years. You can cook in the kitchen. There is always a fire there.

"Now, the first thing to do," he went on when they returned to the shop, "will be for you to mount a dozen cases for the windows. These drawers are full of skins of birds and small animals. I get them for next to nothing from the sailors, and sell them to furriers and feather preparers, who supply ladies' hat and bonnet makers. In future, I propose that you shall mount them and sell them direct. We shall get far higher prices than we do now. I seem to be putting most of the work on your shoulders, but do not want you to help me in the shop. I will look after the birds and buy and sell as I used to do; you will have the back room private to yourself for stuffing and mounting."

Frank was delighted at this allotment of labor, and was soon at work rummaging the drawers and picking out specimens for mounting, and made a selection sufficient to keep him employed for weeks. That evening he sallied out and expended his two pounds in underlinen, of which he was sorely in need. As he required them his employer ordered showcases for the window, of various sizes, getting the backgrounds painted and fitted up as Frank suggested.

Frank did not get on so fast with his work as he had hoped, for the fame of the sailor's cat and macaw spread rapidly in the neighborhood, and there was a perfect rush of sailors and their wives anxious to have birds and skins, which had been brought from abroad, mounted. The sailor himself looked in one day.

"If you like another two pounds for that 'ere cat, governor, I'm game to pay you. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. Every one's wanting to see 'em, and there's the old woman dressed up in her Sunday clothes a-sitting in the parlor as proud as a peacock a showing of 'em off. The house ain't been so quiet since I married. Them animals would be cheap to me at a ten pound note. They'll get you no end of orders, I can tell you."

The orders, indeed, came in much faster than Frank could fulfill them, although he worked twelve hours a day; laying aside all other work, however, for three hours in order to devote himself to the shop cases, which were to be chef d'oeuvres.



CHAPTER VII: AN OLD FRIEND

For three months Frank passed a quiet and not unpleasant life with the old naturalist in Ratcliff Highway. The latter took a great liking to him, and treated him like a son rather than an assistant. The two took their meals together now, and Frank's salary had been raised from twelve to eighteen shillings a week. So attractive had the cases in the windows proved that quite a little crowd was generally collected round them, and the business had greatly augmented. The old naturalist was less pleased at this change than most men would have been in his position. He had got into a groove and did not care to get out of it. He had no relatives or any one dependent on him, and he had been well content to go on in a jog trot way, just paying his expenses of shop and living. The extra bustle and push worried rather than pleased him.

"I am an old man," he said to Frank one day, as after the shop was closed they sat over their tea. "I have no motive in laying by money, and had enough for my wants. I was influenced more by my liking for your face and my appreciation of your talent, than by any desire of increasing my business. I am taking now three times as much as I did before. Now I should not mind, indeed, I should be glad, if I thought that you would succeed me here as a son would do. I would gladly take you into partnership with me, and you would have the whole business after my death. But I know, my boy, that it wouldn't do. I know that the time will come when you will not be content with so dull a life here. You will either get an offer from some West End house which would open higher prospects to you, or you will be wandering away as a collector. In any case you would not stop here, of that I am quite sure, and therefore do not care, as I should have done, had you been my son, for the increase of the business. As it is, lad, I could not even wish to see you waste your life here."

Frank, after he was once fairly settled at his new work, had written to his friend the doctor, at Deal, telling him of the position he had taken, and that he was in a fair way to make at least a comfortable living, and that at a pursuit of which he was passionately fond. He asked him, however, while writing to him from time to time to give him news of his sister, not to tell any one his address, as although he was not ashamed of his berth, still he would rather that, until he had made another step up in life, his old schoolfellows should not know of his whereabouts. He had also written to his friend Ruthven a bright chatty letter, telling him somewhat of his adventures in London and the loss of his money, and saying that he had now got employment at a naturalist's, with every chance of making his way.

"When I mount a bit higher," he concluded, "I shall be awfully glad to see you again, and will let you know what my address may then be. For the present I had rather keep it dark. If you will write to me, addressed to the General Post Office, telling me all about yourself and the fellows at school, I shall be very, very glad to get your letter. I suppose you will be breaking up for Christmas in a few days."

Christmas came and went. It was signalized to Frank only by the despatch of a pretty present to Lucy, and the receipt of a letter from her written in a round childish hand. A week afterwards he heard somebody come into the shop. His employer was out, and he therefore went into the shop.

"I knew it was!" shouted a voice. "My dear old Frank, how are you?" and his hand was warmly clasped in that of Ruthven.

"My dear Ruthven," was all Frank could say.

"I had intended," Ruthven exclaimed, "to punch your head directly I found you; but I am too glad to do it, though you deserve it fifty times over. What a fellow you are! I wouldn't have believed it of you, running away in that secret sort of way and letting none of us know anything about you. Wasn't I angry, and sorry too, when I got the letter you wrote me from Deal! When I went back to school and found that not even Dr. Parker, not even your sister, knew where you were, I was mad. So were all the other fellows. However, I said I would find you wherever you had hidden yourself."

"But how did you find me?" Frank asked greatly moved at the warmth of his schoolfellow's greeting.

"Oh! it wasn't so very difficult to find you when once I got your letter saying what you were doing. The very day I came up to town I began to hunt about. I found from the Directory there were not such a great number of shops where they stuffed birds and that sort of thing. I tried the places in Bond Street, and Piccadilly, and Wigmore Street, and so on to begin with. Then I began to work east, and directly I saw the things in the window here I felt sure I had found you at last. You tiresome fellow! Here I have wasted nearly half my holidays looking for you."

"I am so sorry, Ruthven."

"Sorry! you ought to be more than sorry. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, downright ashamed. But, there, I won't say any more now. Now, can't you come out with me?"

"No, I can't come out now, Ruthven; but come into this room with me."

There for the next hour they chatted, Frank giving a full account of all he had gone through since he came up to town, while Ruthven gave him the gossip of the half year at school.

"Well," Ruthven said at last, "this old Horton of yours must be a brick. Still, you know, you can't stop here all your life. You must come and talk it over with my governor."

"Oh, no, indeed, Ruthven! I am getting on very well here, and am very contented with my lot, and I could not think of troubling your father in the matter."

"Well, you will trouble him a great deal," Ruthven said, "if you don't come, for you will trouble him to come all the way down here. He was quite worried when he first heard of your disappearance, and has been almost as excited as I have over the search for you.

"You are really a foolish fellow, Frank," he went on more seriously; "I really didn't think it of you. Here you save the lives of four or five fellows and put all their friends under a tremendous obligation, and then you run away and hide yourself as if you were ashamed. I tell you you can't do it. A fellow has no more right to get rid of obligations than he has to run away without paying his debts. It would be a burden on your mind if you had a heavy debt you couldn't pay, and you would have a right to be angry if, when you were perfectly able to pay, your creditor refused to take the money. That's just the position in which you've placed my father. Well, anyhow, you've got to come and see him, or he's got to come and see you. I know he has something in his mind's eye which will just suit you, though he did not tell me what it was. For the last day or two he has been particularly anxious about finding you. Only yesterday when I came back and reported that I had been to half a dozen places without success, he said, 'Confound the young rascal, where can he be hiding? Here are the days slipping by and it will be too late. If you don't find him in a day or two, Dick, I will set the police after him—say he has committed a murder or broken into a bank and offer a reward for his apprehension.' So you must either come home with me this afternoon, or you will be having my father down here tonight."

"Of course, Ruthven," Frank said, "I would not put your father to such trouble. He is very kind to have taken so much interest in me, only I hate—"

"Oh, nonsense! I hate to see such beastly stuck up pride, putting your own dignity above the affection of your friends; for that's really what it comes to, old boy, if you look it fairly in the face."

Frank flushed a little and was silent for a minute or two.

"I suppose you are right, Ruthven; but it is a little hard for a fellow—"

"Oh, no, it isn't," Ruthven said. "If you'd got into a scrape from some fault of your own one could understand it, although even then there would be no reason for you to cut your old friends till they cut you. Young Goodall, who lives over at Bayswater, has been over four or five times to ask me if I have succeeded in finding you, and I have had letters from Handcock, and Childers, and Jackson. Just as if a fellow had got nothing to do but to write letters. How long will you be before you can come out?"

"There is Mr. Horton just come in," Frank said. "I have no doubt he will let me go at once."

The old naturalist at once assented upon Frank's telling him that a friend had come who wished him to go out.

"Certainly, my dear boy. Why, working the hours and hours of overtime that you do, of course you can take a holiday whenever you're disposed."

"He will not be back till late," Ruthven said as they went out. "I shall keep him all the evening."

"Oh, indeed, Ruthven, I have no clothes!"

"Clothes be bothered," Ruthven said. "I certainly shall end by punching your head, Frank, before the day's out."

Frank remonstrated no more, but committed himself entirely to his friend's guidance. At the Mansion House they mounted on the roof of an omnibus going west, and at Knightsbridge got off and walked to Eaton Square, where Ruthven's father resided. The latter was out, so Frank accompanied his friend to what he called his sanctum, a small room littered up with books, bats, insect boxes, and a great variety of rubbish of all kinds. Here they chatted until the servant came up and said that Sir James had returned.

"Come on, Frank," Ruthven said, running downstairs. "There's nothing of the ogre about the governor."

They entered the study, and Ruthven introduced his friend.

"I've caught him, father, at last. This is the culprit."

Sir James Ruthven was a pleasant looking man, with a kindly face.

"Well, you troublesome boy," he said, holding out his hand, "where have you been hiding all this time?"

"I don't know that I've been hiding, sir," Frank said.

"Not exactly hiding," Sir James smiled, "only keeping away from those who wanted to find you. Well, and how are you getting on?"

"I am getting on very well, sir. I am earning eighteen shillings a week and my board and lodging, and my employer says he will take me into partnership as soon as I come of age."

"Ah, indeed!" Sir James said. "I am glad to hear that, as it shows you must be clever and industrious."

"Yes, father, and the place was full of the most lovely cases of things Frank had stuffed. There was quite a crowd looking in at the window."

"That is very satisfactory. Now, Frank, do you sit down and write a note to your employer, asking him to send down half a dozen of the best cases. I want to show them to a gentleman who will dine with me here today, and who is greatly interested in such matters. When you have written the note I will send a servant off at once in a cab to fetch them."

"And, father," Dick continued, "if you don't mind, might Frank and I have our dinner quietly together in my room? You've got a dinner party on, and Frank won't enjoy it half as much as he would dining quietly with me."

"By all means," Sir James said. "But mind he is not to run away without seeing me.

"You are a foolish lad," he went on in a kind voice to Frank; "and it was wrong as well as foolish to hide yourself from your friends. However independent we may be in this world, all must, to a certain extent, rely upon others. There is scarcely a man who can stand aloof from the rest and say, 'I want nothing of you.' I can understand your feeling in shrinking from asking a favor of me, or of the fathers of the other boys who are, like myself, deeply indebted to you for the great service you have rendered their sons. I can admire the feeling if not carried too far; but you should have let your schoolfellows know exactly how you were placed, and so have given us the opportunity of repaying the obligation if we were disposed, not to have run away and hidden yourself from us."

"I am sorry, sir," Frank said simply. "I did not like to seem to trade upon the slight service I rendered some of my schoolfellows. Dr. Bateman told me I was wrong, but I did not see it then. Now I think, perhaps he was right, although I am afraid that if it happened again I should do the same."

Sir James smiled.

"I fear you are a stiff necked one, Master Frank. However, I will not scold you any further. Now, what will you do with yourselves till dinner time?"

"Oh, we'll just sit and chat, father. We have got lots more things to tell each other."

The afternoon passed in pleasant talk. Frank learned that Ruthven had now left Dr. Parker's for good, and that he was going down after the holidays to a clergyman who prepared six or eight boys for the army. Before dinner the footman returned with half a dozen of the best cases from the shop, which were brought up to Dick's room, and the latter was delighted with them. They greatly enjoyed their dinner together. At nine o'clock a servant came up and took down the cases. Five minutes later he returned again with a message, saying that Sir James wished Mr. Richard and his friend to go down into the dining room. Frank was not shy, but he felt it rather a trial when he entered the room, where seven or eight gentlemen were sitting round the table, the ladies having already withdrawn. The gentlemen were engaged in examining and admiring the cases of stuffed birds and animals.

"This is my young friend," Sir James said, "of whom I have been speaking to you, and whose work you are all admiring. This, Frank, is Mr. Goodenough, the traveler and naturalist, of whom you may have heard."

"Yes, indeed," Frank said, looking at the gentleman indicated. "I have Mr. Goodenough's book on The Passerine Family at home."

"It is rather an expensive book too," the gentleman said.

"Yes, sir. My father bought it, not I. He was very fond of natural history and taught me all I know. He had a capital library of books on the subject, which Dr. Bateman is keeping for me, at Deal, till I have some place where I can put them. I was thinking of getting them up soon."

Mr. Goodenough asked him a few questions as to the books in the library, and then put him through what Frank felt was a sort of examination, as to his knowledge of their contents.

"Very good indeed!" Mr. Goodenough said. "I can see from your work here that you are not only a very clever preparer, but a close student of the habits and ways of wild creatures. But I was hardly prepared to find your scientific knowledge so accurate and extensive. I was at first rather inclined to hesitate when Sir James Ruthven made me a proposal just now. I do so no longer. I am on the point of starting on an expedition into the center of Africa in search of specimens of natural history. He has proposed that you should accompany me, and has offered to defray the cost of your outfit, and of your passage out and home. I may be away for two years. Of course you would act as my assistant, and have every opportunity of acquiring such knowledge as I possess. It will be no pleasure trip, you know, but hard work, with all sorts of hardships and, perhaps, some dangers. At the same time it would be a fine opening in a career as a naturalist. Well, what do you say?"

"Oh, sir!" Frank exclaimed, clasping his hands, "it is of all things in the world what I should like most. How can I thank you enough? And you, Sir James, it is indeed kind and thoughtful of you."

"We are not quits yet by any means, Frank," Sir James said kindly. "I am glad indeed to be able to forward your wishes; and now you must go upstairs and be introduced to my wife. She is most anxious to see you. She only returned home just before dinner."

Frank was taken upstairs, where he and his cases of birds were made much of by Lady Ruthven and the ladies assembled in the drawing room. He himself was so filled with delight at the prospect opened to him that all thought of his dark tweed suit being out of place among the evening dresses of the ladies and gentlemen, which had troubled him while he was awaiting the summons to the dining room, quite passed out of his mind, and he was able to do the honors of his cases naturally and without embarrassment. At eleven o'clock he took his leave, promising to call upon Mr. Goodenough, who was in lodgings in Jermyn Street, upon the following morning, that gentleman having at Sir James' request undertaken to procure all the necessary outfit.

"I feel really obliged to you, Sir James," Mr. Goodenough said when Frank had left. "The lad has a genius for natural history, and he is modest and self possessed. From what you tell me he has done rather than apply for assistance to anyone, he must have plenty of pluck and resolution, and will make a capital traveling companion. I feel quite relieved, for it is so difficult to procure a companion who will exactly suit. Clever naturalists are rare, and one can never tell how one will get on with a man when you are thrown together. He may want to have his own way, may be irritable and bad tempered, may in many respects be a disagreeable companion. With that lad I feel sure of my ground. We shall get on capitally together."

On his return to the shop Frank told his employer, whom he found sitting up for him, the change which had taken place in his life, and the opening which presented itself.

Mr. Horton expressed himself as sincerely glad.

"I shall miss you sadly," he said, "shall feel very dull for a time in my solitary house here; but it is better for you that you should go, and I never expected to keep you long. You were made for better things than this shop, and I have no doubt that a brilliant career will be open before you. You may not become a rich man, for natural history is scarcely a lucrative profession, but you may become a famous one. Now, my lad, go off to bed and dream of your future."

The next morning Frank went over, the first thing after breakfast, to see his friend the porter. He, too, was very pleased to hear of Frank's good fortune, but he was too busy to talk much to him, and promised that he would come over that evening and hear all about it. Then Frank took his way to Jermyn Street, and went with Mr. Goodenough to Silver's, where an outfit suited for the climate of Central Africa was ordered. The clothes were simple. Shirts made of thin soft flannel, knickerbockers and Norfolk jackets of tough New Zealand flax, with gaiters of the same material.

"There is nothing like it," Mr. Goodenough said; "it is the only stuff which has a chance with the thorns of an African forest. Now you will want a revolver, a Winchester repeating carbine, and a shotgun. My outfit of boxes and cases is ready, so beyond two or three extra nets and collecting boxes there is nothing farther to do in that way. For your head you'd better have a very soft felt hat with a wide brim; with a leaf or two inside they are as cool as anything, and are far lighter and more comfortable than the helmets which many people use in the tropics."

"As far as shooting goes," Frank said, "I think that I shall do much better with my blowgun than with a regular one. I can hit a small bird sitting nineteen times out of twenty."

"That is a good thing," Mr. Goodenough answered. "For shooting sitting there is nothing better than a blowgun in skillful hands. They have the advantage too of not breaking the skin; but for flying a shotgun is infinitely more accurate. You will have little difficulty in learning to shoot well, as your eye is already trained by the use of your blowpipe. Will you want any knives for skinning?"

"No, sir. I have a plentiful stock of them."

"Are you going back to Eaton Square? I heard Sir James ask you to stop there until we start."

"No," Frank replied; "I asked his permission to stay where I am till tomorrow. I did not like to seem in a hurry to run away from Mr. Horton, who has been extremely kind to me."

"Mind, you must come here in three days to have your things tried on," Mr. Goodenough said. "I particularly ordered that they are to be made easy and comfortable, larger, indeed, than you absolutely require, but we must allow for growing, and two years may make a difference of some inches to you. Now, we have only to go to a bootmaker's and then we have done."

When the orders were completed they separated, as Mr. Goodenough was going down that afternoon to the country, and was not to return until the day preceding that on which they were to sail. That evening Frank had a long chat with his two friends, and was much pleased when the old naturalist, who had taken a great fancy to the honest porter, offered him the use of a room at his house, saying that he should be more than paid by the pleasure of his company of an evening. The offer was accepted, and Frank was glad to think that his two friends would be sitting smoking their pipes together of an evening instead of being in their solitary rooms. The next day he took up his residence in Eaton square.



CHAPTER VIII: TO THE DARK CONTINENT

After spending two or three days going about London and enjoying himself with his friend Dick, Frank started for Deal, where he was pleased to find his sister well and happy. He bade goodbye to her, to the doctor, and such of his schoolfellows as lived in Deal, to whom his start for Central Africa was quite an event. Dr. Bateman handed over to him his watch and chain and his blowgun, which he had taken care of for him, also his skinning knives and instruments. The same evening he returned to town, and spent the days very pleasantly until the afternoon came when he was to depart. Then he bade farewell to his kind friends Sir James and Lady Ruthven. Dick accompanied him in the cab to Euston station, where a minute or two later Mr. Goodenough arrived. The luggage was placed in a carriage, and Frank stood chatting with Dick at the door, until the guard's cry, "Take your places!" caused him to jump into the carriage. There was one more hearty handshake with his friend, and then the train steamed out of the station.

It was midnight when they arrived at Liverpool, and at once went to bed at the Station Hotel. On coming down in the morning Frank was astonished at the huge heap of baggage piled up in the hall, but he was told that this was of daily occurrence, as six or eight large steamers went out from Liverpool every week for America alone, and that the great proportion of the passengers came down, as they had done, on the previous night, and slept at the Station hotel. Their own share of the baggage was not large, consisting only of a portmanteau each, Mr. Goodenough having sent down all his boxes two days previously. At twelve o'clock they went on board the Niger, bound for the west coast of Africa. This would carry them as far as Sierra Leone, whence Mr. Goodenough intended to take passage in a sailing ship to his starting point for the interior.

Frank enjoyed the voyage out intensely, and three days after sailing they had left winter behind; four days later they were lying in the harbor of Funchal.

"What a glorious place that would be to ramble about!" he said to Mr. Goodenough.

"Yes, indeed. It would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast than between this mountainous island of Madeira and the country which we are about to penetrate. This is one of the most delightful climates in the world, the west coast of Africa one of the worst. Once well in the interior, the swamp fevers, which are the curse of the shores, disappear, but African travelers are seldom long free from attacks of fever of one kind or the other. However, quinine does wonders, and we shall be far in the interior before the bad season comes on."

"You have been there before, you said, Mr. Goodenough?"

"Yes, I have been there twice, and have made excursions for short distances from the coast. But this time we are going into a country which may be said to be altogether unknown. One or two explorers have made their way there, but these have done little towards examining the natural productions of the country, and have been rather led by inducements of sport than by those of research."

"Did you have fever, sir?"

"Two or three little attacks. A touch of African fever, during what is called the good season, is of little more importance than a feverish cold at home. It lasts two or three days, and then there is an end of it. In the bad season the attacks are extremely violent, sometimes carrying men off in a few hours. I consider, however, that dysentery is a more formidable enemy than fever. However, even that, when properly treated, should be combated successfully."

"Do you mean to hire the men to go with you at Sierra Leone?"

"Certainly not, Frank. The negroes of Sierra Leone are the most indolent, the most worthless, and the most insolent in all Africa. It is the last place in the world at which to hire followers. We must get them at the Gaboon itself, and at each place we arrive at afterwards we take on others, merely retaining one of the old lot to act as interpreter. The natives, although they may allow white men to pass safely, are exceedingly jealous of men of other tribes. I shall, however, take with me, if possible, a body of, say six Houssas, who are the best fighting negroes on the coast. These I shall take as a bodyguard; the carriers we shall obtain from the different tribes we visit. The Kroomen, whom you will see at Cape Palmas, are a magnificent set of men. They furnish sailors and boatmen to all the ships trading on these shores. They are strong, willing, and faithful, but they do not like going up into the interior. Now we will land here and get a few hours' run on shore. There are one or two peculiarities about Madeira which distinguish it from other places. To begin with we will go for a ride in a bullock cart without wheels."

"But surely it must jolt about terribly," Frank said.

"Not at all. The roads are paved with round, knubbly stones, such as you see sometimes in narrow lanes and courts in seaside places at home. These would not make smooth roads for wheeled vehicles; but here, as you will see, the carts are placed on long runners like those of sledges. These are greased, and the driver always has a pound of candles or so hanging to the cart. When he thinks that the runners want greasing he takes a candle, lays it down on the road in front of one of the runners, and lets this pass over it. This greases it sufficiently, and it glides along over the stones almost as smoothly as if passing over ice."

Frank thoroughly enjoyed his run on shore, but was surprised at the air of listlessness which pervaded the inhabitants. Every one moved about in the most dawdling fashion. The shopkeepers looked out from their doors as if it were a matter of perfect indifference to them whether customers called or not. The few soldiers in Portuguese uniform looked as if they had never done a day's drill since they left home. Groups sat in chairs under the trees and sipped cooling drinks or coffee. The very bullocks which drew the gliding wagons seemed to move more slowly than bullocks in other places. Frank and his friend drove in a wagon to the monastery, high up on the mountain, and then took their places on a little hand sledge, which was drawn by two men with ropes, who took them down the sharp descent at a run, dashing round corners at a pace which made Frank hold his breath. It took them but a quarter of an hour to regain the town, while an hour and a half had been occupied in the journey out.

"I shall buy a couple of hammocks here," Mr. Goodenough said. "They are made of knotted string, and are lighter and more comfortable than those to be met with on the coast. I will get a couple of their cane chairs, too, they are very light and comfortable."

In the afternoon they again embarked, and then steamed away for Sierra Leone. After several days' passage, they arrived there at daylight, and Frank was soon on deck.

"What a beautiful place!" he exclaimed. "It is not a bit what I expected."

"No," Mr. Goodenough said; "no one looking at it could suppose that bright pretty town had earned for itself the name of the white man's grave."

Sierra Leone is built on a somewhat steep ascent about a mile up the river. Freetown, as the capital is properly called, stands some fifty feet or so above the sea, and the barracks upon a green hill three hundred feet above it, a quarter of a mile back. The town, as seen from the sea, consists entirely of the houses of the merchants and shopkeepers, the government buildings, churches, and other public and European buildings. The houses are all large and bright with yellow tinged whitewash, and the place is completely embowered in palms and other tropical trees. The native town lies hidden from sight among trees on low ground to the left of the town. Everywhere around the town the hills rise steep and high, wooded to the summit. Altogether there are few more prettily situated towns than the capital of Sierra Leone.

"It is wonderful," Mr. Goodenough said, "that generations and generations of Europeans have been content to live and die in that wretchedly unhealthy place, when they might have established themselves on those lofty hills but a mile away. There they would be far above the malarious mists which rise from the low ground. The walk up and down to their warehouses and offices here would be good for them, and there is no reason why Sierra Leone should be an unhealthy residence. Unfortunately the European in Africa speedily loses his vigor and enterprise. When he first lands he exclaims, 'I certainly shall have a bungalow built upon those hills;' but in a short time his energy leaves him. He falls into the ways of the place, drinks a great deal more spirits than is good for him, stops down near the water, and at the end of a year or so, if he lives so long, is obliged to go back to Europe to recruit.

"Look at the boats coming out."

A score of boats, each containing from ten to twelve men, approached the ship. They remained at a short distance until the harbor master came on board and pronounced the ship free from quarantine. Then the boats made a rush to the side, and with shouts, yells, and screams of laughter scrambled on board. Frank was at once astonished and amused at the noise and confusion.

"What on earth do they all want?" he asked Mr. Goodenough.

"The great proportion of them don't want anything at all," Mr. Goodenough answered, "but have merely come off for amusement. Some of them come to be hired, some to carry luggage, others to tout for the boatmen below. Look at those respectable negresses coming up the gangway now. They are washerwomen, and will take our clothes ashore and bring them on board again this afternoon before we start."

"It seems running rather a risk," Frank said.

"No, you will see they all have testimonials, and I believe it is perfectly safe to intrust things to them."

Mr. Goodenough and Frank now prepared to go on shore, but this was not easily accomplished, for there was a battle royal among the boatmen whose craft thronged at the foot of the ladder. Each boat had about four hands, three of whom remained on board her, while the fourth stood upon the ladder and hauled at the painter to keep the boat to which he belonged alongside. As out of the twenty boats lying there not more than two could be at the foot of the ladder together, the conflict was a desperate one. All the boatmen shouted, "Here, sar. This good boat, sar. You come wid me, sar," at the top of their voices, while at the same time they were hard at work pulling each other's boats back and pushing their own forward. So great was the struggle as Frank and Mr. Goodenough approached the gangway, so great the crowd upon the ladder, that one side of the iron bar from which the ladder chains depend broke in two, causing the ladder to drop some inches and giving a ducking to those on the lower step, causing shouts of laughter and confusion. These rose into perfect yells of amusement when one of the sailors suddenly loosed the ladder rope, letting five or six of the negroes into the water up to their necks. So intense was the appreciation by the sable mind of this joke that the boatmen rolled about with laughter, and even the victims, when they had once scrambled into their boats, yelled like people possessed.

"They are just like children," Mr. Goodenough said. "They are always either laughing or quarreling. They are good natured and passionate, indolent, but will work hard for a time; clever up to a certain point, densely stupid beyond. The intelligence of an average negro is about equal to that of a European child of ten years old. A few, a very few, go beyond this, but these are exceptions, just as Shakespeare was an exception to the ordinary intellect of an Englishman. They are fluent talkers, but their ideas are borrowed. They are absolutely without originality, absolutely without inventive power. Living among white men, their imitative faculties enable them to attain a considerable amount of civilization. Left alone to their own devices they retrograde into a state little above their native savagery."

This was said as, after having fixed upon a boat and literally fought their way into it, they were rowed towards the shore. On landing Frank was delighted with the greenness of everything. The trees were heavy with luxuriant foliage, the streets were green with grass as long and bright as that in a country lane in England. The hill on which the barracks stand was as bright a green as you would see on English slopes after a wet April, while down the streets clear streams were running. The town was alive with a chattering, laughing, good natured, excitable population, all black, but with some slight variation in the dinginess of the hue.

Never was there such a place for fun as Sierra Leone. Every one was brimful of it. Every one laughed when he or she spoke, and every one standing near joined freely in the conversation and laughed too. Frank was delighted with the display of fruit in the market, which is probably unequaled in the world. Great piles there were of delicious big oranges, green but perfectly sweet, and of equally refreshing little green limes; pineapples and bananas, green, yellow, and red, guava, and custard apples, alligator pears, melons, and sour sops, and many other native fruits.

Mr. Goodenough purchased a large basket of fruit, which they took with them on board the ship. The next morning they started down the coast. They passed Liberia, the republic formed of liberated slaves, and of negroes from America, and brought up a mile or two off Monrovia, its capital. The next day they anchored off Cape Palmas, the headquarters of the Kroomen. A number of these men came off in their canoes, and caused great amusement to Frank and the other passengers by their fun and dexterity in the management of their little craft. These boats are extremely light, being hollowed out until little thicker than pasteboard, and even with two Kroomen paddling it is difficult for a European to sit in them, so extremely crank are they. Light as they are the Krooboy can stand up and dive from his boat without upsetting it if he take time; but in the hurry and excitement of diving for coppers, when half a dozen men would leap overboard together, the canoes were frequently capsized. The divers, however, thought nothing of these mishaps, righting the boats and getting in again without difficulty. Splendidly muscular fellows they were. Indeed, except among the Turkish hamals it is doubtful whether such powerful figures could be found elsewhere.

"They would be grand fellows to take with us, Mr. Goodenough," Frank said.

"Yes, if they were as plucky as they are strong, one could wish for nothing better; but they are notorious cowards, and no offer would tempt them to penetrate into such a country as that into which we are going."

Stopping a few hours at Cape Coast Castle, Accra, and other ports they at last arrived at Bonny.

"It is not tempting in appearance," Frank said, "certainly."

"No," Mr. Goodenough replied, "this is one of the most horribly unhealthy spots in Africa. As you see, the white traders do not dare to live on shore, but take up their residence in those old floating hulks which are thatched over, and serve as residences and storehouses. I have a letter from one of the African merchants in London, and we shall take up our abode on board his hulk until we get one of the coasting steamers to carry us down. I hope it will not be many days."

The very bulky luggage was soon transferred to the hulk, where Frank and Mr. Goodenough took up their residence. The agent in charge was very glad to receive them, as any break in the terrible monotony of such a life is eagerly welcomed. He was a pale, unhealthy looking man, and had just recovered from an unusually bad attack of fever. Like most of the traders on the coast he had an immense faith in the power of spirits.

"It is the ruin of them," Mr. Goodenough said to Frank when they were alone. "Five out of six of the men here ruin their constitutions with spirits, and then fall an easy prey to the fever."

"But you have brought spirits with you, Mr. Goodenough. I saw some of the cases were labeled Brandy.'"

"Brandy is useful when taken as a medicine, and in moderation. A little mixed with water at the end of a long day of exhausting work acts as a restorative, and frequently enables a worn out man to sleep. But I have brought the brandy you see for the use of others rather than myself. One case is of the very best spirits for our own use. The rest is common stuff and is intended as presents. Our main drink will be tea and chocolate. These are invaluable for the traveler. I have, besides, large quantities of calico, brass stair rods, beads, and powder. These are the money of Africa, and pass current everywhere. With these we shall pay our carriers and boatmen, with these purchase the right of way through the various tribes we shall meet. Moreover it is almost necessary in Africa to pass as traders. The people perfectly understand that white men come here to trade; but if we said that our object was to shoot birds and beasts, and to catch butterflies and insects, they would not believe us in the slightest degree, but would suspect us of all sorts of hidden designs. Now we will go ashore and pay our respects to the king."

"Do you mean to say that there is a king in that wretched looking village?" Frank asked in surprise.

"Kings are as plentiful as peas in Africa," Mr. Goodenough said, "but you will not see much royal state."

Frank was disappointed indeed upon landing. Sierra Leone had given him an exalted idea of African civilization, but this was at once dispelled by the appearance of Bonny. The houses were constructed entirely of black mud, and the streets were narrow and filthy beyond description. The palace was composed of two or three hovels, surrounded by a mud wall. In one of these huts the king was seated. Mr. Goodenough and Frank were introduced by the agent, who had gone ashore with them, and His Majesty, who was an almost naked negro, at once invited them to join him in the meal of which he was partaking. As a matter of courtesy they consented, and plates were placed before them, heaped with a stew consisting of meat, vegetables, and hot peppers. While the meal went on the king asked Mr. Goodenough what he had come to the coast for, and was disappointed to find that he was not going to set up as a trader at Bonny, as it was the custom for each newcomer to make a handsome present to him. When the meal was over they took their leave.

"Do you know what you have been eating?" the agent asked Frank.

"Not in the least," Frank said. "It was not bad; what was it?"

"It was dog flesh," the agent answered.

"Not really!" Frank exclaimed with an uncomfortable sensation of sickness.

"Yes, indeed," the agent replied. "Dog's meat is considered a luxury in Bonny, and dogs are bred specially for the table."

"You'll eat stranger things than that before you've done, Frank," Mr. Goodenough continued, "and will find them just as good, and in many cases better, than those to which you are accustomed. It is a strange thing why in Europe certain animals should be considered fit to eat and certain animals altogether rejected, and this without the slightest reason. Horses and donkeys are as clean feeders as oxen and sheep. Dogs, cats, and rats are far cleaner than pigs and ducks. The flesh of the one set is every bit as good as that of the other, and yet the poorest peasant would turn up his nose at them. Here sheep and oxen, horses and donkeys, will not live, and the natives very wisely make the most of the animals which can do so."

Frank was soon tired of Bonny, and was glad to hear that they would start the next day for Fernando Po in a little steamer called the Retriever. The island of Fernando Po is a very beautiful one, the peak rising ten thousand feet above the sea, and wooded to the very summit. Were the trees to some extent cleared away the island might be very healthy. As it is, it is little better than the mainland.

There was not much to see in the town of Clarence, whose population consists entirely of traders from Sierra Leone, Kroomen, etc. The natives, whose tribal name is Adiza, live in little villages in the interior. They are an extremely primitive people, and for the most part dispense altogether with clothing. The island belongs to Spain, and is used as a prison, the convicts being kept in guard ships in the harbor. After a stay of three days there Mr. Goodenough and Frank took passage in a sailing ship for the Gaboon.



CHAPTER IX: THE START INLAND

After the comforts of a fine steamer the accommodation on board the little trader was poor indeed. The vessel smelt horribly of palm oil and was alive with cockroaches. These, however, Mr. Goodenough and Frank cared little for, as they brought up their mattresses and slept on deck. Upon their voyage out from England Frank, as well as several of the other passengers, had amused himself by practicing with his rifle at empty bottles thrown overboard, and other objects, and having nothing else to do now, he resumed the practice, accustoming himself also to the use of his revolver, the mark being a small log of wood swung from the end of a yard.

"I told you," Mr. Goodenough said, "that your skill with the blowgun would prove useful to you in shooting. You are as good a shot as I am, and I am considered a fair one. I have no doubt that with a little practice you will succeed as well with your double barrel. The shooting of birds on the wing is a knack which seems to come naturally to some people, while others, practice as they will, never become good shots."

The ship touched twice upon its way down to the Gaboon. Once at the Malimba river, the second time at Botauga, the latter being the principal ivory port in equatorial Africa.

"Shall we meet with any elephants, do you think?" Frank asked his friend.

"In all probability," Mr. Goodenough said. "Elephant shooting, of course, does not come within our line of action, and I should not go at all out of my way for them. Still, if we meet them we will shoot them. The ivory is valuable and will help to pay our expenses, while the meat is much prized by the natives, who will gladly assist us in consideration of the flesh."

On the sixteenth day after leaving Fernando Po they entered the Gaboon. On the right hand bank were the fort and dwellings of the French. A little farther up stood the English factories; and upon a green hill behind, the church, school, and houses of an American mission. On the left bank was the wattle town of King William, the sable monarch of the Gaboon. Mr. Goodenough at once landed and made inquiries for a house. He succeeded in finding one, consisting of three rooms, built on piles, an important point in a country in which disease rises from the soil. At Bonny Mr. Goodenough had, with the assistance of the agent, enlisted six Houssas. These people live much higher up on the coast, but they wander a good deal and may be met with in most of the ports. The men had formed a guard in one of the hulks, but trade having been bad the agent had gone home, and they were glad to take service with Mr. Goodenough. They spoke a few words of English, and, like the Kroomen, rejoiced in names which had been given them by sailors. They were called Moses, Firewater, Ugly Tom, Bacon, Tatters, and King John. They were now for the first time set to work, and the goods were soon transported from the brig to the house.

"Is anything the matter with you, Frank?" Mr. Goodenough asked that evening.

"I don't know, sir. My head feels heavy, somehow, and I am giddy."

Mr. Goodenough felt his pulse.

"You have got your first touch of fever," he said. "I wonder you've been so long without it. You had better lie down at once."

A quarter of an hour afterwards Frank was seized with an overpowering heat, every vein appearing to be filled with liquid fire; but his skin, instead of being, as usual, in a state of perspiration, was dry and hard.

"Now, Frank, sit up and drink this. It's only some mustard and salt and water. I have immense faith in an emetic."

The draught soon took its effect. Frank was violently sick, and the perspiration broke in streams from him.

"Here is a cup of tea," Mr. Goodenough said; "drink that and you will find that there will be little the matter with you in the morning."

Frank awoke feeling weak, but otherwise perfectly well. Mr. Goodenough administered a strong dose of quinine, and after he had had his breakfast he felt quite himself again.

"Now," Mr. Goodenough said, "we will go up to the factories and mission and try and find a really good servant. Everything depends upon that."

In a short time an engagement was made with a negro of the name of Ostik. He was a Mpongwe man, that being the name of the tribe on the coast. He spoke English fairly, as well as two or three of the native languages. He had before made a journey some distance into the interior with a white traveler. He was a tall and powerfully built negro, very ugly, but with a pleasant and honest face. Frank felt at once that he should like him.

"You quite understand," Mr. Goodenough explained, "we are going through the Fan country, far into the interior. We may be away from the coast for many months."

"Me ready, sar," the man answered with a grin. "Mak no odds to Ostik. He got no wife, no piccanniny. Ostik very good cook. Master find good grub; he catch plenty of beasts."

"You're not afraid, Ostik, because it is possible we may have trouble on the way?"

"Me not very much afraid, massa. You good massa to Ostik he no run away if fightee come; but no good fight whole tribe."

"I hope not to have any fighting at all, Ostik; but as I have got six Houssas with me who will all carry breech loading guns, I think we should be a match for a good sized tribe, if necessary."

Ostik looked thoughtful. "More easy, massa, go without Houssas," he said. "Black man not often touch white traveler."

"No, Ostik, that is true; but I must take with me trade goods for paying my way and hiring carriers, and if alone I should be at the mercy of every petty chief who chose to plunder and delay me. I am going as a peaceful traveler, ready to pay my way, and to make presents to the different kings through whose territories I may pass. But I do not choose to put myself at the mercy of any of them. I do not say that eight men armed with breech loaders could defeat a whole tribe; but they would be so formidable, that any of these negro kings would probably prefer taking presents and letting us pass peacefully to trying to rob us. The first thing to do, will be to hire one large canoe, or two if necessary. The men must agree to take us up into the Fan country, as far as the rapids on the Gaboon. Then we shall take carriers there, and the boat can return by itself. These are the things which will have to go."

The baggage consisted of ten large tin cases, each weighing about eighty pounds. These contained cotton cloths, powder, beads, tea, chocolate, sugar, and biscuits. There were in addition three bundles of stair rods, each about the same weight as the boxes. These were done up in canvas. There was also a tent made of double canvas weighing fifty pounds, and two light folding tressel beds weighing fifteen pounds apiece. Thus fourteen men would be required as carriers, besides some for plantains and other provisions, together with the portmanteaus, rugs, and waterproof sheets of the travelers. There were besides six great chests made of light iron. Four of these were fitted with trays with cork bottoms, for insects. The other two were for the skins of birds. All the boxes and cases had strips of India rubber where the lids fitted down, in order to keep out both damp and the tiny ants which are the plague of naturalists in Africa.

Four or five days were occupied in getting together a crew, for the natives had an abject fear of entering the country of the cannibal Fans. Mr. Goodenough promised that they should not be obliged to proceed unless a safe conduct for their return was obtained from the King of the Fans. A large canoe was procured, sufficient to convey the whole party. Twelve paddlers were hired, and the goods taken down and arranged in the boat. The Houssas had been, on landing, furnished with their guns, which were Snider rifles, had been instructed in the breech loading arrangement, and had been set to work to practice at a mark at a hundred and fifty yards distance—the stump of an old tree, some five feet in height, serving for the purpose. The men were delighted with the accuracy of their pieces and the rapidity at which they could be fired. Mr. Goodenough impressed upon them that unless attacked at close quarters, and specially ordered to fire fast, they must aim just as slowly and deliberately as if using their old guns, for that in so long a journey ammunition would be precious, and must, therefore, on no account whatever, be wasted. In the boxes were six thousand rounds of ammunition, a thousand for each gun, besides the ammunition for the rifles and fowling pieces of Mr. Goodenough and Frank.

In order to render the appearance of his followers as imposing as possible, Mr. Goodenough furnished each of the Houssas with a pair of trousers made of New Zealand flax, reaching to their knees. These he had brought from England with him. They were all found to be too large, but the men soon set to work with rough needles and thread and took them in. In addition to these, each man was furnished with a red sash, which went several times round the waist, and served to keep the trousers up and to give a gay aspect to the dress. The Houssas were much pleased with their appearance. All of them carried swords in addition to the guns, as in their own country they are accustomed to fight with these weapons.

They started early in the morning, and after four hours' paddling passed Konig Island, an abandoned Dutch settlement. Here they stopped for an hour or two, and then the sea breeze sprang up, a sail was hoisted, and late at night they passed a French guardship placed to mark the boundary of that settlement at a point where a large tributary called the Boqui runs into it. Here is a little island called Nenge Nenge, formerly a missionary station, where the natives are still Christians. At this place the canoe was hauled ashore. The Houssas had already been instructed in the method of pitching the tent, and in a very few minutes this was erected. It was a double poled tent, some ten feet square, and there was a waterproof sheet large enough to cover the whole of the interior, thus preventing the miasma from arising from the ground within it. The beds were soon opened and fixed, two of the large cases formed a table and two smaller ones did service as chairs. A lamp was lit, and Frank was charmed with the comfort and snugness of the abode.

The men's weapons were fastened round one of the poles to keep them from the damp night air. Ostik had at once set to work on landing, leaving the Houssas to pitch the tent. A fire was soon blazing and a kettle and saucepans suspended over it. Rice was served out to the men, with the addition of some salt meat, of which sufficient had been purchased from the captain of the brig to last throughout the journey in the canoe. The men were all in high spirits at this addition to their fare, which was more than had been bargained for, and their songs rose merrily round the fire in the night air.

In the morning, after breakfast, they again took their places in the canoe. For twelve miles they paddled, the tide at first assisting them, but after this the water from the mountains ahead overpowered it. Presently they arrived at the first Fan village, called Olenga, which they reached six hours after starting. The natives crowded round as the canoe approached, full of curiosity and excitement, for never but once had a white man passed up the river. These Fans differed widely from the coast negroes. Their hair was longer and thicker, their figures were slight, their complexion coffee colored, and their projecting upper jaws gave them a rabbit mouthed appearance. They wore coronets on their heads adorned with the red tail feathers of the common gray parrot. Most of the men had beards, which were divided in the middle, red and white beads being strung up the tips. Some wore only a strip of goatskin hanging from the waist, or the skin of a tigercat, while others had short petticoats made of cloth woven from the inner bark of a tree. The travelers were led to the hut of the chief, where they were surrounded by a mob of the cannibals. The Houssas had been strictly enjoined to leave their guns in the bottom of the canoe, as Mr. Goodenough desired to avoid all appearance of armed force. The chief demanded of Ostik what these two white men wanted here, and whether they had come to trade. Ostik replied that the white men were going up the river into the country beyond to shoot elephants and buy ivory, that they did not want to trade for logwood or oil, but that they would give presents to the chiefs of the Fan villages. A score of cheap Birmingham muskets had been brought from England by Mr. Goodenough for this purpose. One of these was now bestowed upon the chief, together with some powder and ball, three bright cotton handkerchiefs, some gaudy glass beads, and two looking glasses for his wives. This was considered perfectly satisfactory.

The crowd was very great, and at Mr. Goodenough's dictation Ostik informed the chief that if the white men were left quiet until the evening they would show his people many strange things. On the receipt of this information the crowd dispersed. But when at sunset the two travelers took a turn through the village, the excitement was again very great. The men stood their ground and stared at them, but the women and children ran screaming away to hide themselves. The idea of the people of Central Africa of the whites is that they are few in number, that they live at the bottom of the sea, and are possessed of great wealth, but that they have no palm oil or logwood, and are, therefore, compelled to come to land to trade for these articles. They believe that the strange clothes they wear are manufactured from the skins of sea beasts.

When night fell Mr. Goodenough fastened a sheet against the outside of the chief's hut, and then placed a magic lantern in position ten paces from it. The Fans were then invited to gather round and take their seats upon the ground. A cry of astonishment greeted the appearance of the bright disk. This was followed by a wilder yell when this was darkened, and an elephant bearing some men sitting on his back was seen to cross the house. The men leaped to their feet and seized their spears. The women screamed, and Ostik, who was himself somewhat alarmed, had great difficulty in calming their fears and persuading them to sit down again, assuring them that they would see many wonderful things, but that nothing would hurt them.

The next view was at first incomprehensible to many of them. It was a ship tossing in a stormy sea; but some of those present had been down to the mouth of the river, and these explained to the others the nature of the phenomenon. In all there were twenty slides, all of which were provided with movable figures; the last two being chromatropes, whose dancing colors elicited screams of delight from the astonished natives. This concluded the performance, but for hours after it was over the village rang with a perfect Babel of shouts, screams, and chatter. The whole thing was to the Fans absolutely incomprehensible, and their astonishment was equalled by their awe at the powers of the white men.

The next two days they remained at Olenga, as word was sent up to Itchongue, the next town, asking the chief there for leave to come forward. The people had now begun to get over their first timidity, and when Frank went out for a walk after breakfast he was somewhat embarrassed by the women and girls crowding round him, feeling his clothes and touching his hands and face to assure themselves that these felt like those of human beings. He afforded them huge delight by taking off his Norfolk jacket and pulling up the sleeves of his shirt to show them that his arms were the same color as his hands, and so elated were they with this exhibition that it was with great difficulty that he withstood their entreaties that he would disrobe entirely. Indeed, Ostik had at last to come to his rescue and carry him off from the laughing crowd by which he was surrounded.

After dinner Mr. Goodenough invited the people to sit down in a vast circle holding each other's hands. He then told them that he should at a word make them all jump to their feet. Then taking out a small but powerful galvanic battery, he arranged it and placed wires into the hands of the two men nearest to him in the great circle.

"Now," he said, "when I clap my hands you will find that you are all obliged to jump up."

He gave the signal. Frank turned on the battery, and in an instant the two hundred men and women, with a wild shriek, either leapt to their feet or rolled backward on the ground. In another minute not a native was to be seen, with the exception of the chief, who had not been included in the circle. The latter, at Mr. Goodenough's request, shouted loudly to his subjects to return, for that the white men would do them no harm; but it was a long time before, slowly and cautiously, they crept back again. When they had reassembled Mr. Goodenough showed them several simple but astonishing chemical experiments, which stupefied them with wonder; and concluded with three or four conjuring tricks, which completed their amazement. A long day's paddling took them to Itchongue, where they were as well received as at Olenga. Here they stopped for two days, and the magic lantern was again brought out, and the other tricks repeated with a success equal to that which they had before obtained. As another day's paddling would take them to the rapids Mr. Goodenough now set up a negotiation for obtaining a sufficient number of carriers. After great palaver, and the presentation of three guns to the chief to obtain his assistance, thirty men were engaged. These were each to receive a yard of calico or one brass stair rod a day, and were to proceed with the party until such time as they could procure carriers from another tribe.

The new recruits were taken up in another canoe. Several villages were passed on the way. The river became a mere rapid, against which the canoes with difficulty made their way. They had now entered the mountains which rose steeply above them, embowered in wood. Two days of severe work took them to the foot of the falls. Here the canoes were unloaded. The men hired on the coast received their pay, and turned the boat's head down stream. The other canoe accompanied it, and the travelers remained with their bodyguard of Houssas and their carriers.

"Now," Mr. Goodenough said, "we are fairly embarked on our journey, and we will commence operations at once. I have heard the cries of a great many birds which are strange to me today, and I expect that we shall have a good harvest. We may remain here for some time. The first thing to do is to find food for our followers. We have got six sacks of rice, but it will never do to let our men depend solely upon these. They would soon come to an end."

"But how are we to feed forty people?" Frank asked in astonishment.

"I pointed out to you today," Mr. Goodenough said, "the tracks of hippopotami in various places. One of these beasts will feed the men for nearly a week. There were, too, numbers of alligators' eggs on the banks, and these creatures make by no means bad eating. Your rifle will be of no use against such animals as these. You had better take one of the Sniders. I have some explosive shells which will fit them. My own double barrelled rifle is of the same bore."

After dinner Mr. Goodenough told two of the Houssas to accompany them with their rifles, together with three or four of the Fans. He made his way down the stream to a point where the hills receded, and where he had observed a great many marks of the river horses. As they approached the spot they heard several loud snorts, and making their way along as quietly as possible they saw two of the great beasts standing in the stream. At this point it widened a good deal and was shallow and quite near the bank. The Fans had been told to stay behind directly the snorting was heard, and Mr. Goodenough and Frank, rifle in hand, crept forward, with the Houssas as still and noiseless as cats close behind them.



CHAPTER X: LOST IN THE FOREST

The hippopotami were playing together, floundering in the shallow water, and the noise they made prevented their hearing the stealthy approach of their enemies.

"You take the one nearest shore, Frank, I will take the other. Aim at the forehead between the eyes. I will make a slight sound to attract their attention."

Frank knelt on one knee and took steady aim. Mr. Goodenough then gave a shout, and the two animals turning their heads stood staring at the foliage, scarce a dozen yards away, in which the travelers were concealed. The guns flashed at the same moment, and as if struck by lightning the hippopotami fell in the stream. The explosive balls had both flown true to the mark, invariably a fatal one in the case of the river horse. Frank as he fired had taken another rifle which the Houssas held in readiness for him, but there was no occasion for its use. The Fans came running up, and on seeing the great beasts lying in the stream, gave a shout of joy.

"That will do for this evening," Mr. Goodenough said. "They are large beasts, and will give food enough for a week or ten days."

They then returned to the camp which, at the news brought by one of the Fans, had already been deserted. Before the natives retired to sleep the hippopotami had been cut up and carried to the camp. Portions were already frizzling over the fires, other parts set aside for the consumption of the next two days, and the rest cut up in strips to be dried in the sun. The tongue of one was cut up and fried as a great luxury for the white men's supper by Ostik. It is not often that the natives of equatorial Africa are able to indulge in meat, and the joy of the Fans at this abundant supply, and the prospect afforded them of further good eating, raised their spirits to the highest extent.

Next morning at daybreak Mr. Goodenough and Frank set out from the camp. Each carried a double barreled gun, and was accompanied by one of the Houssas carrying his rifle and a butterfly net, and when three hours later they returned to the camp for breakfast and compared their spoils they found that an excellent beginning had been made. Nearly a score of birds, of which several were very rare, and five were pronounced by Mr. Goodenough to be entirely new, had been shot, and many butterflies captured. Frank had been most successful in this respect, as he had come across a small clearing in which were several deserted huts. This was just the place in which butterflies delight, for, although many kinds prefer the deep shades of the forest, by far the greater portion love the bright sunlight.

After breakfast they again set out, Frank this time keeping along the edge of the stream, where he had observed many butterflies as he came up, and where many birds of the kingfisher family had also been seen. He had been very successful, and was walking along by the edge of the water with his eyes fixed upon the trees above, where he had a minute before heard the call of a bird, when he was startled by a shout from the Houssa behind him. He involuntarily sprang back, and it was well he did so; for on the instant something swept by within an inch or two of his head. Looking round he saw, at the edge of the stream below him, a huge alligator. This had struck at him with its tail—the usual manner in which the alligator supplies itself with food—and had it not been for the warning cry of the Houssa, would have knocked him into the stream. Its mouth was open and Frank, as if by instinct, fired the contents of both barrels into its throat. The animal rolled over on to its back in the water and then turned as if to struggle to regain the bank. The Houssa, however, had run up, and, placing the muzzle of his gun within a foot of its eye, fired, and the creature rolled over dead, and was swept away by the stream.