"Well eat after we have had the news," said Tom. "We're dying to know all, as Sam says."

"The news is rather perplexing, to tell the truth," said Randolph Rover, as he led the way into the library of the spacious home. "I hardly know what to make of it."

"Who brought it?" questioned Dick.

"It came by mail — a bulky letter all the way from Cape Town, Africa."

"From father?"

"No, from a Captain Townsend, who, it seems, commands the clipper ship Rosabel. He sent me one letter inclosing another. The first letter is from himself."

"And is the second letter from father?" burst out Tom.

"Yes, my boy."

"Oh, let us see it!" came in a shout from all three of the Rover boys.

"You had better read the captain's communication first," answered Randolph Rover. "Then you will be more apt to understand the other. Or shall I read it for the benefit of all?"

"Yes, yes, you read it, Uncle Randolph," was the answer.

"The letter is dated at Cape Town, and was written a little over a month ago. It is addressed to 'Randolph Rover, or to Richard, Thomas, or Samuel Rover, New York City,' and is further marked 'Highly Important-Do Not Lose or Destroy.'"

"And what is in it?" asked the impatient Tom. "Do hurry and tell us, Uncle Randolph."

And then his uncle read as follows:

"TO THE ROVER FAMILY, New York:

I am a stranger to you, but I deem it my duty to write to you on account of something which occurred on the 12th day of April last, while my clipper ship Rosabel, bound from Boston, U. S. A., to Cape Town, Africa, was sailing along the coast of Congo but a few miles due west from the mouth of the Congo River.

"Our ship had been sent in by a heavy gale but the wind had gone down, and we were doing more drifting than sailing to the southward when the lookout espied a man on a small raft which was drifting toward, us.

"On coming closer, we discovered that the man was white and that he looked half starved. We put out a boat and rescued the poor creature but he had suffered so much from spear wounds and starvation that, on being taken on board of our ship, he immediately relapsed into insensibility, and out of this we failed to arouse him. He died at sundown, and we failed, even to learn him name or home address.

"On searching the dead man's pockets we came across the enclosed letter, addressed to you, and much soiled from water. As you will see, it is dated more than a year back and was evidently in the possession of the man who died for some time. Probably he started out to deliver it, or to reach some point from which it could be mailed.

"I trust that the message becomes the means of rescuing the Anderson Rover mentioned in the letter, and I will be pleased to learn if this letter of mine is received. The Rosabel sails from Cape Town to Brazil as soon as her cargo can be discharged and another taken on.

"Very truly yours,

"JOHN V. TOWNSEND, Captain."

As Randolph Rover ceased reading there was a brief silence, broken by Tom.

"So the man who died held a letter. And what is in that, Uncle Randolph?"

"I will read it to you, boys, although that is a difficult matter, for the writing is uneven and much blurred. On one part of the sheet there is a blot of blood — the blood, I presume — of the poor fellow who was trying to deliver the communication."

Unfolding the stained document, Randolph Rover bent closer to the table lamp that he might read the more easily. As for the boys, they fairly held their breaths, that no spoken word might escape them.

"The letter is addressed to me," said the uncle. "But the envelope is, as you can see, very much torn. I will read," and he did so.

"NIWILI CAMP, on the Congo,

"July the 18th, 189—.

"DEAR BROTHER RANDOLPH:

"If, by the goodness of God, this reaches you, I trust that you will set out without delay to my, assistance.

"I write under great difficulties, as a prisoner, of the Bumwo tribe of natives, ruled by King Susko.

"I have discovered the secret of a gold mine here, and the king will not let me go, fearing that I will tell the outside world of my discovery and bring the English or French here to slay him and his followers. They know nothing here of Americans.

"I entrust this to the care of an English sailor who is going to try to make his escape. I cannot go myself, having had my leg broken by a blow from one of my jailers.

"I am sick and weak in body, and it may be that I will soon die. Yet I beg of you to do what you can for me. If I die, I trust you to be a father to my dear boys, Dick, Tom, and Sam, and ask Martha for me to be a mother to them.

"The king expects soon to remove to another camp at a place called Rhunda Konoka (the Water Well). Perhaps he will take me along, or else he may slay me.

"All those who were with me are dead excepting several natives who have joined the Burnwo tribe.

"Good-by, and do what you can until you are certain that I am dead.

"Your loving brother,

"ANDERSON ROVER"

When Randolph Rover ceased reading he saw that there were tears in the eyes of all of the boys, and that his wife was also crying. His own voice had had to be cleared continually. To all the letter was like a message from the grave.

"And that is all?" questioned Dick, breaking the silence.

"That is all, my boy — and the letter was written about a year ago!"

"But we'll go in search of him!" put in Tom, quickly. "He may be alive yet."

"I thought I would go," answered Randolph Rover, "and I thought, possibly, that I might take Dick with me."

"Oh, you must take me too!" burst out Tom. "I could never bear to be left behind."

"And you must take me," interrupted Sam. "We always go together, you know."

At this talk Randolph Rover was somewhat taken aback. "All!" he cried. "Why, what would three boys do in the heart of Africa?"

"Look for father!" cried Tom. "I shan't stay behind — you can't make me!" he went on half defiantly.

"We have been through lots of adventures, uncle, you know that," came from Sam. "We are not afraid."

"But the danger, boys —" began the uncle.

"What danger wouldn't we face for father's sake!" said Tom. "I'd go through fire and water for him."

"You had better let us all go," said Dick.

"If you don't let Tom and Sam go, why, the chances are they'll —"

"Run away and go anyway," finished Sam.

"Oh, Uncle Randolph, say we can go; please do!"

At this enthusiasm the uncle smiled sadly.

"All-right, boys; as you are bound to have it so, you shall all go. But don't blame me if the perils are greater than you anticipate, and if the undertaking costs one or more of you your lives."



CHAPTER XII.

OFF FOR AFRICA

It was long after midnight before the conversation in relation to the proposed trip to Africa came to an end. Mrs. Rover insisted that the boys should eat something, and they sat around the table discussing the viands and the two letters at the same time.

"Have you any idea where this Niwili Camp is?" asked Dick of his uncle.

"It is on the Congo, but how far froth the mouth of that stream is a question, lad. Probably we can learn all about it when we reach Boma, the capital of the Congo Free State."

"The Congo is a pretty big stream, isn't it?" questioned Sam.

"Very large indeed. At its mouth it is about ten miles wide, and it is from twelve to fourteen hundred miles long. Stanley traced its course after an expedition in which he fought over thirty battles with the natives."

"They must be fearfully savage."

"Those in the interior are. The natives that live close to the ocean are peaceable enough, so I have been told."

"And how are we going to get there?" asked Tom. "I don't suppose there are any regular steamers running to the Congo."

"No, indeed, Tom. I have written to a shipping firm in New York for information, and they will probably send word by morning," was the answer.

It can well be imagined that the boys slept but little that night. In the morning they telegraphed to Putnam Hall for their trunks, and also let Captain Putnam and their chums know how matters stood. Then began preparations for such a tour as none of them had ever before anticipated.

Word came from New York in the early afternoon mail, and the information sent was highly satisfactory to Randolph Rover. The French steamer Republique was in port, loading for Boma and other African ports, and would set sail on the coming Saturday. The firm had taken upon itself the responsibility to speak of passage for Mr. Rover and one or two others.

"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "Uncle Randolph, you had better telegraph to them at once for passage for the four of us."

"I will," answered, Mr. Rover, and the telegram was sent within the hour.

The next day was a busy one. As but little in the way of outfits could be procured in Oak Run or the adjoining villages, it was decided that they should go down to New York on Thursday afternoon and spend all of Friday in purchasing in the metropolis whatever was needed.

The only person who was really sober was Mrs. Rover, for she hated to see her husband start on such a journey, which was bound to, be full of grave perils.

"I am afraid you will never come back," she said, with tears in her eyes. "And if you and Anderson are both dead to me, what will I do?"

"Be brave, Martha," said Mr. Rover tenderly. "I feel certain that a kind Providence will watch over us and bring us all back in safety."

At last the party was ready to set off. A fond good-by was said, and away they rattled in the carryall for the railroad station at Oak Run.

"Good-by to home!" shouted Tom, as he waved his cap to his aunt, who stood beside the gateway.

"And when we come back may we bring father with us," added Dick, and Sam muttered an amen.

The journey down to New York was without incident, and as the Rovers had lived in the metropolis for years they felt thoroughly at home and knew exactly where to go for their outfit and suitable clothing for use in such a warm country was procured, and in addition each was armed with a revolver. Mr. Rover also purchased a shot-gun and a rifle, and likewise a number of cheap gold and silver trinkets.

"The natives are becoming civilized," he explained. "But, for all that, I am certain a small gift now and then will go a long way toward making friends."

The found that the Republique was a stanch-built steamer of eight thousand tons burden. Her captain, Jules Cambion, spoke English quite fluently and soon made them feel at home. He was much interested in the story Randolph Rover had to tell concerning his missing brother.

"'Tis a strange happening, truly," he remarked. "I sincerely trust that your search for him proves successful and that he returns to the arms of his family unharmed. But it is a fierce country. I have visited it twice, and I know."

"I am glad to learn that you have been up the Congo," replied Randolph Rover. "Perhaps during your leisure hours on the trip you will not mind giving me such information as conics to your mind."

"I will tell you all I know willingly," answered Captain Cambion.

Exactly at noon on Saturday the Republique was ready to sail, and with a shout from those on the wharf who had come to see the few passengers off, she sheered away and started down the bay, past Bedloe Island and the Statue of Liberty. Before night the shore line had faded from view, and they were standing out boldly into the Atlantic Ocean.

"Off for Africa at last," murmured Sam, who had been standing at the rail watching the last speck of land as it disappeared. "What a big trip this is going to be!"

"Never mind how big it is, Sam," came from Tom, "if only it is successful."

The first few days on board were spent in settling themselves. The party had two connecting staterooms, and Mr. Rover and Sam occupied one, while Dick and Tom had settled themselves in the other.

The passengers were mostly French people, who were going to try their fortunes in French Congo. There was, however, one Englishman, a man named Mortimer Blaze, who was bound out simply for adventure.

"I'm tired of England, and tired of America too," he explained. "I've hunted through the Rocky Mountains and up in Canada, as well as at home, and now I'm going to try for a lion or a tiger in Africa."

"Perhaps the lion or tiger will try for you," smiled Tom. "What then?"

"It will be a pitched battle, that's all," drawled Mortimer Blaze. He was rather a sleepy looking man, but quick to act when the occasion demanded.

The weather was all that could be wished, and during the first week out the Republique made good progress. On a steamer there was but little for the boys to do, and they spent all of their spare time in reading the books on Africa which Captain Cambion had in his library, and which were printed in English. Often they persuaded the genial captain to tell them of his adventures in that far-away country.

"You have many strange sights before you," he said to them one day. "The strange vegetation, the immense trees, the wonderful waterfalls, some larger than your own Niagara, and then the odd people. Some of the natives are little better than dwarfs, while others are six feet and more in height and as straight as arrows.

"Did you ever hear of this King Susko?" questioned Tom.

"Yes; I have heard of him several times. He is known as the Wanderer, because he and his tribe wander from place to place, making war on the other tribes."

The captain knew nothing of Niwili Camp and expressed the opinion that it had been, like many other camps, only a temporary affair. He said that the best the party could do was to strike straight up the Congo, along the south shore, and question the different natives met concerning King Susko's present whereabouts.

On the beginning of the second week a storm was encountered which lasted for three days. At first the wind blew at a lively rate, and this was followed by thunder and lightning and a regular deluge of rain, which made all of the boys stay below. The steamer pitched from side to side and more than one wave broke over her decks.

"This is the worse storm I ever saw," remarked Dick, as he held fast to a chair in the cabin. "They won't be able to set any table for dinner today."

"Dinner!" came from Sam, with a groan.

"Who wants any dinner, when a fellow feels as if he was going to be turned inside out!" So far none of the boys had suffered from seasickness, but now poor Sam was catching it, and the youngest Rover felt thoroughly miserable.

"Never mind, the storm won't last forever," said Dick sympathetically. "Perhaps you had better lie down, Sam."

"How can I, with the ship tossing like a cork? I've got to hold on, same as the rest, and be glad, I suppose, that I am alive," and poor Sam looked utterly miserable.

It was very close in the cabin, but neither door nor port-hole could be opened for fear of the water coming in. Dinner was a farce, to use Tom's way of expressing it, for everything was cold and had to be eaten out of hand or from a tin cup. Yet what was served tasted very good to those who were hungry.

"I believe we'll go to the bottom before we are done," began Sam, when a loud shout from the deck reached the ears of all of the Rovers and made Tom and Dick leap to their feet.

"What's that?" cried Dick. "They are calling to somebody!"

Above the wind they could hear a yell from a distance, and then came more cries from the deck, followed by a bump on the side of the steamer.

"We've struck something!" ejaculated Tom.

"But I guess it wasn't hard enough to do much damage."

"That remains to be seen," answered Dick. "Storm or no storm, I'm gong on deck to learn what it means," and he hurried up the companionway.



CHAPTER XIII

A RESCUE IN MID-OCEAN

Dick found that he could remain on the deck only with the greatest of difficulty. Several life lines had been stretched around and he clung to one of these.

"What has happened?" he asked of one of the sailors. "What did we strike?"

"Struck a small boat," was the answer. "It had a colored man in it. We've just hauled the fellow on deck."

"Is he all right?"

"No; he's about half dead. But the captain thinks he may get over it, with care," and the sailor hurried away.

Dick now saw several men approaching, carrying the form of the rescued one between them. He looked at the unconscious man and gave a cry of amazement.

"Alexander Pop! What a strange happening!"

"Do you know the man?" questioned Captain Cambion.

"I know him very well," answered Dick. "He used to work at the military academy where my brothers and I were cadets." And the boy told Captain Cambion the particulars of Alexander Pop's disappearance from Putnam Hall. "I am glad that I will be able to tell him that his innocence is established," he concluded.

"All providing we are able to bring him around to himself, Master Rover," returned the captain gravely.

"You think, then, that he is in bad shape?"

"I hardly know what to think. We will take him below and do all we can for him."

It was no easy matter to transfer Pop to one of the lower staterooms, but once placed on a soft berth the Rovers did all they could for him.

"It is like a romance," said Sam, while Randolph Rover was administering some medicine to the unconscious man. "How thin he looks."

"He's been suffering from starvation," put in Dick. "I suppose he gave that yell we heard with his last breath."

All of the party watched over the colored man with tender care, and feeling that he could be in no better hands the captain left him entirely in his friends' charge. "When he comes to his senses you can let me know," he said.

Dick was watching by Pop's side, and Tom was at the foot of the berth, when the colored man opened his eyes. As they rested on first one Rover and then the other he stared in utter astonishment.

"My gracious sakes alive!" he gasped. "Am I dreamin', or am I back to Putnam Hall again?"

"Neither, Aleck," replied Dick. "You are safe on board an ocean steamer."

"An' yo' — whar yo' dun come from?"

"We are passengers on the steamer," said Tom. "You were picked up several hours ago."

"Yes, but — but I can't undersand dis nohow!" persisted the colored man, and tried to sit up, only to fall back exhausted.

"Don't try to understand it, Aleck, until you are stronger," said Dick. "Would you like some hot soup?"

"Anyt'ing, sah, anyt'ing! Why, I aint had, no reg'lar meal in most a week!" moaned the sufferer. "Glory to Heaben dat I am sabed!"

And then he said no more for quite a long, while.

The soup was already at hand, and it was Dick who fed it slowly and carefully, seeing to it that Pop should have no more than his enfeebled stomach could take care of, for overfeeding, so Mr. Rover had said, might kill the man.

The next day Pop was able to sit up, although still too weak to stand on his legs. He was continually praising Heaven for his safety.

"I dun Vink I was a goner more dan once," he said. "I was on de ocean all alone about a week, I reckon, although I lost time ob days after I'd been out two or Vree nights. I Vink I was most crazy."

"Perhaps you were, Aleck," said Sam. "But tell us how you got in that position."

"Dat am de queerest part ob it, Master Rober — de queerest part of it. I got into de small boat fo' a sleep, and de fust Ving I knowed I was miles an' miles away from eberyt'ing; yes, sah-miles an' miles away on de boundless ocean, an' not so much as a fishin' smack sail in sight. Golly, but wasn't I scared — I reckon I dun most turn white!" And Aleck rolled his eyes around impressively.

"You were in a small boat attached to some steamer?"

"Dat's it. Da had been usin' de small boat fo' surnt'ing, and left her overboard."

"Were you cut adrift?"

"I don't tink I was — but I aint shuah nohow."

"What boat was it?"

"De Harrison, from Brooklyn, bound to Cuba."

"Did you ship on her after you left Putnam Hall in such a hurry?

"I did, cos I didn't want de police to coted me. But, say, as true as I stand heah — mean sit heah — I aint guilty of stealin' dem watches an' t'ings, no I aint!"

And Aleck raised both hands earnestly. "Captain Putnam made a great mistake when he dun suspect me."

"We know it," answered Dick quietly. "We thought you innocent all along, Aleck."

"T'ank yo' fo' dat, Master Rober — I'se glad to see dat I'se got one friend —"

"Three friends, Aleck — we all stood up for you," interrupted Tom.

"T'ank yo', t'ank yo'!"

"And we discovered who the real thief was," added Sam.

"Wot, yo' dun found, dat out!" burst out Pop. "An' who was de black-hearted rascal?"

"Jim Caven."

"Dat cadet wot tried to be funny wid me an' I had to show him his place? Hol' on — I dun see him comin' from de attic one day."

"When he must have put those stolen articles in your trunk," said Tom. "Yes, he was guilty, Captain Putnam was going to have him arrested, but he got away."

Nothing would do for Alexander Pop after this but that the boys give him the full particulars of the affair, to which he listened with the closest attention. But at the conclusion his face fell.

"Ise mighty glad I am cleared," he said. "But I'd give a good deal to face de cap'n—jest to see wot he would say, eh?"

"He said he was sorry he had suspected you," said Dick.

"What a big fool dis darkey was to run away!" murmured Aleck meditatively. "I wasn't cut out fo' no sailer man. Ise been sick most ebery day since I left shoah. By de way, whar is dis ship bound?" he went on.

"To Africa."

"Africa! Shuah yo' is foolin', Massah Dick?"

"No, I am not. We and our uncle are bound for the Congo River."

"De Congo! Dat's whar my great gran' fadder dun come from — so I heard my mammy tell, years ago. I don't want to go dar, not me!"

"I don't see how you are going to help yourself, Aleck. The first stop this steamer will make will be at Boma on the Congo River."

"'Wot am I to do when I gits dar? answer me dat, chile."

"I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps the captain will let you remain on the Republique."

"What wid dern Frenchmen? I don't t'ink I could stand dat. An' what am yo' going to do in Africa?"

"We are going on a hunt for my father, who has been missing for years."

Again Aleck had to be told the particulars and again he was tremendously interested. When the boys had finished he sat in silence for several minutes.

"I've got it-jest de t'ing!" he cried suddenly.

"Got what?" asked Tom.

"De right idea, Massah Tom. Foah gen'men like yo' don't want to go to Africa widout a valet nohow. Let me be de workin' man fe de crowd. I'll take de job, cheap, — an' glad ob de chance."

"Hullo, that's an idea!" mused Dick.

"Will yo' do it, Massah Dick?"

"We'll have to speak to my uncle about it first."

"Well, yo' put in a good word fo' me. Yo know I always stood by yo' in de school," pleaded the colored man. "I don't want to be driftin' around jess nowhar, wid nuffin to do, an' no money comin' in — not but what I'll work cheap, as I dun said I would," he added hastily.

A little later Randolph Rover joined the group and Aleck's proposition was laid before him. Strange to say he accepted the colored man's offer immediately, greatly to the wonder of the boys, and from that minute on Pop be came a member of the searching party.

"I will tell you why I did it," explained Randolph Rover to the boys in private. "When we get into the jungle we will need a man we can trust and one who is used to American ways. Moreover, if there is any spying to be done among the natives the chances are that a black man can do it better than a white man."

"Uncle Randolph, you've got a long head," remarked Tom. "No doubt Aleck will prove just the fellow desired." And Tom was right, as later events proved.



CHAPTER XIV

A STRANGE MEETING IN BOMA

The storm delayed the passage of the Republique nearly a week, in a manner that was totally unexpected by the captain. The fierce waves, running mountain high, wrenched the screw and it was found next to impossible to repair the accident. Consequently the steamer had to proceed under a decreased rate of speed.

This was tantalizing to the boys, and also to Randolph Rover, for everyone wished to get ashore, to start up the Congo as early as possible. But all the chafing in the world could not help matters, and they were forced to take things as they came.

A place was found among the sailors for Aleck, and soon he began to feel like himself once more. But the sea did not suit the colored man, and he was as anxious as his masters to reach shore once more.

"It's a pity da can't build a mighty bridge over de ocean, an' run kyars," he said. "Den nobody would git seasick."

"Perhaps they'll have a bridge some day resting on boats, Aleck," answered Tom.

"But I don't expect to live to see it."

"Yo' don't know about dat, chile. Look at uddert'ings. Did yo'gran'fadder expect to ride at de rate ob sixty miles an hour? Did he expect to send a telegram to San Francisco in a couple ob minutes? Did he eber dream ob talkin' to sumboddy in Chicago froo a telephone? Did he knew anyt'ing about electric lights, or movin' pictures, or carriages wot aint got no bosses, but run wid gasoline or sumfing like dat? I tell yo, Massah Tom, we don't know wot we is comin' to!"

"You are quite right, Alexander," said Mr. Rover, who had overheard the talk. "Science is making wonderful strides. Some day I expect to grow com and wheat, yes, potatoes and other vegetables, by electricity," and then Randolph Rover branched off into a long discourse on scientific farming that almost took away poor Aleck's breath.

"He's a most wonderful man, yo' uncle!" whispered the colored man to Sam afterward. "Fust t'ing yo' know he'll be growin' corn in de com crib already shucked!" and he laughed softly to himself.

On and on over the mighty Atlantic bounded the steamer. One day was very much like another, excepting that on Sundays there was a religious service, which nearly everybody attended. The boys had become quite attached to Mortimer Blaze and listened eagerly to the many hunting tales he had to tell.

"I wish you were going with us," said Tom to him. "I like your style, as you Englishman put it."

"Thanks, Rover, and I must say I cotton to you, as the Americans put it," laughed the hunter. "Well, perhaps we'll meet in the interior, who knows?"

"Are you going up the Congo?"

"I haven't decided yet. I am hoping to meet some friends at Boma. Otherwise I may go further down the coast."

The steamer bad now struck the equator, and as it was midsummer the weather was extremely warm, and the smell of the oozing tar, pouring from every joint, was sickening. But the weather suited Alexander Pop perfectly.

"Dis am jest right," he said. "I could sleep eall de time, 'ceptin' when de meal gong rings."

"Blood will tell," laughed Randolph Rover. "When you land, Alexander, you ought to feel perfectly at home."

"Perhaps, sah; but I dun reckon de United States am good enough for any man, sah, white or colored."

"Right you are," put in Dick. "It's the greatest country on the globe."

It was a clear day a week later when the lookout announced land dead ahead. It proved to be a point fifteen miles above the mouth of the Congo, and at once the course was altered to the southward, and they made the immense mouth of the river before nightfall.

It was a beautiful scene. Far away dashed the waves against an immense golden strand, backed up by gigantic forests of tropical growth and distant mountains veiled in a bluish mist: The river was so broad that they were scarcely aware that they were entering its mouth until the captain told them.

When night came the lights of Boma could be distinctly seen, twinkling silently over the bay of the town. They dropped anchor among a score of other vessels; and the long ocean trip became a thing of the past.

"I'm all ready to go ashore," said Tom.

"My, but won't it feel good to put foot on land again!"

"Indeed it will!" cried Dick. "The ocean is all well enough, but a fellow doesn't want too much of it."

"And yet I heard one of the French sailors say that he hated the land," put in Sam. "He hadn't set foot on shore for three years. When they reach port he always remains on deck duty until they leave again."

Mortimer Blaze went ashore at once, after bidding all of the party a hearty good-by. "Hope we meet again," he said. "And, anyway, good luck to you!"

"And good luck to you!" cried Tom. "Hope you bag all of the lions and tigers you wish," and so they parted, not to meet again for many a day.

It was decided that the Rovers should not leave the ship until morning. It can well be imagined that none of the boys slept soundly that night. All wondered what was before them, and if they should succeed or fail in their hunt.

"Dis aint much ob a town," remarked Aleck, as they landed, a little before noon, in a hot, gentle shower of rain. "Nuffin like New York."

"There is only one New York, as there is but one London," answered Randolph Rover. "Our architecture would never do for such a hot climate."

Along the river front was a long line of squatty warehouses, backed up by narrow and far from clean streets, where the places of business were huddled together, and where a good share of the trading was done on the sidewalk. The population was a very much mixed one, but of the Europeans the English and French predominated. The natives were short, fat, and exceedingly greasy appearing. Hardly a one of them could speak English.

"I don't see any Americans," remarked Dick. "I suppose -"

"There is an American store!" burst out Sam, pointing across the way. He had discovered a general trading store, the dilapidated sign of which read:

SIMON HOOK,

Dealer in Everything. English Spoken by an American. Horn of All Kinds Bought. Yankee Boots Are the Best!

"He believes in advertising," laughed Dick. "I'd like to go in and see Simon Hook. Perhaps he'll remember something about father!" he added suddenly.

"That's an idea!" returned Tom. "Let us go in, Uncle Randolph."

Mr. Rover was willing, and they entered the low and dingy-looking establishment, which was filled with boxes, barrels, and bags of goods.

They found the proprietor sitting in an easy chair, his feet on a desk, and a pipe in his mouth.

"Is this Mr. Hook?" asked Randolph Rover.

"That's me," was the answer; but Mr. Hook did not offer to rise, nor indeed to even shift his position.

"We saw your sign and as we are Americans we thought we would drop in," went on Mr. Rover.

"That's right; glad to see you," came from the man in the chair; but still he did not offer to shift his position.

"Been here many years?" asked Dick.

"About twenty."

"How is business?" put in Tom, bound to say something.

"Aint none, sonny."

"You don't look very busy."

"It's a fool's place to come to, sonny. When these goods are sold I'm going to quit." Mr. Simon Hook paused long enough to take an extra whiff from his pipe. "What brought you here?"

"We are on a hunt for a missing man," answered Randolph Rover. "Did you ever meet him? His name is Anderson Rover, and he is my brother."

"Anderson Rover?" Simon Hook thought for a moment. "I remember him. He was a gold hunter from Californy, or somethin' like that."

"Yes; he was a mine owner."

"Went up the Congo four or five years ago — maybe longer?"

"Yes."

"I remember him. He had lots of money, and took several guides and a number of other, natives along."

"Have you seen or heard of him since?" questioned Dick eagerly.

Simon Hook shook his head. "No, sonny. 'Twasn't to be expected."

"And why not?" put in Tom.

"Because them as goes up the Congo never, comes back. It's a fool's trip among those wild people of the interior. Stanley went up, but look at the big party he took with him and the many fights he had to get back alive."

At this announcement the hearts of the Rover boys fell.

"You never heard one word of him?" persisted Sam.

"Nary a word, sonny. I reckon he's either lost in the jungle or among the mountains, or else the natives have taken care of him."

"Did he say anything about the trail he was going to take?" asked Randolph Rover. I understand there are several."

"He was going to take the Rumbobo trail, most all of 'em do." Simon Hook drew a long breath. "Say, can I sell you any of these old things of mine cheap?"

"Perhaps you can," said Randolph Rover.

"We are bound for the hotel now. We will come in later."

"Glad to see you," and as they left the shopkeeper waved them a pleasant adieu with his hand. But he never stirred from his chair.

"I guess he has grown tired of trying to sell goods," observed Tom.

"Perhaps he knows that if folks want the things he has to sell they are bound to come to him," said Dick. "His store seems to be the only one of its sort around."

The hotel for which they were bound was several squares away, located in something of a park, with pretty flowers and a fountain. It was a two-story affair, with spacious verandas and large rooms, and frequented mostly by English and French people.

They had just entered the office; and Randolph Rover was writing his name in the register, when Dick caught sight of somebody in the reading room that nearly took away his breath.

"Well, I never!"

"What is it, Dick?" asked Tom quickly.

"Look at that boy reading a newspaper. It is Dan Baxter — Dan Baxter, just as sure as you are born!"



CHAPTER XV

CAPTAIN VILLAIRE'S LITTLE PLOT

Dick was right: the boy in the reading-room' was indeed Dan Baxter, but so changed in appearance that for the minute neither Tom nor Sam recognized him.

In the past Baxter had always been used to fine clothing, which he had taken care should be in good repair. Now his clothing was dilapidated and his shoes looked as if they were about ready to fall apart.

More than this, his face was hollow and careworn, and one eye looked as if it had suffered severe blow of some sort. Altogether he was most wretched-looking specimen of humanity, and it was a wonder that he was allowed at the hotel. But the truth of the matter was that he had told the proprietor a long tale of sufferings in the interior and of a delayed remittance from home, and the hotel keeper was keeping him solely on this account.

"How he is changed!" muttered Tom. "He looks like a regular tramp!"

"He's been in hard luck, that's certain," came from Sam. "I wonder how he drifted out here?"

While Sam was speaking Dan Baxter raised his eyes from the newspaper and glanced around. As his gaze fell upon the three Rover boys he started and the paper fell to the floor, then he got up and strode toward them.

"Dick Rover!" he cried. "Where did you fellows come from?"

"From Putnam Hall, Baxter," answered Dick quietly. "And what brought you here?"

Ordinarily Dan Baxter would have retorted that that was none of Dick's business, but now he was in thoroughly low spirits, and he answered meekly:

"I've been playing in hard luck. I went down to New York and one night when I was in a sailors' boarding house I drank more than was good for me, and when I woke up in the morning I found myself on a vessel bound for Africa."

"You were shanghaied as a sailor?" asked Tom.

"That's it, and while I was on board the Costelk the captain and mate treated me worse than a dog. See that eye? The captain did that, and when I struck back he put me in irons and fed me nothing but stale biscuits and water."

"And the ship left you here?"

"No; she was bound for Cape Town, but stopped here for supplies, and I jumped overboard at night and swam ashore, and here I am, and sorry for it," and Dan Baxter drew a long breath.

The Rovers were astonished at his meek manner. Was this really the domineering Baxter, who had always insisted on having his own way, and who had done so many wrong deeds in the past?

"You've had a hard time of it, I suppose? said Dick, hardly knowing how to go on.

"Hard, Dick, aint no word," came from the former bully of Putnam Hall. "I've run up against the worst luck that anybody could ever imagine. But I reckon you don't care about that?"

"Do you think we ought to care, Baxter?"

"Well, it aint fair to take advantage of a chap when he's down on his luck," grumbled the former bully. "I guess I've learnt my lesson all right enough."

"Do you mean to say you are going to turn over a new leaf?" queried Sam with interest.

"Yes, if I ever get the chance."

Randolph Rover now joined the group, and Dick explained the situation. Mr. Rover questioned Baxter closely and found that he was without a cent in his pocket and that the hotel keeper had threatened to put him out if he was not able to pay up inside of the next twenty-four hours.

"See here, Baxter, you never were my friend, and you never deserved any good from me, but I don't like to see a dog suffer," said Dick. "I'll give you thirty shillings, and that will help you along a little," and he drew out his purse.

"And I'll give you the same," came from Tom.

"Ditto from me," said Sam. "But don't forget that what Dick says is true, nevertheless."

Ninety English shillings — about twenty-two dollars of our money — was more cash than Dan Baxter had seen in some time, his other money having been spent before he had taken his unexpected ocean trip, and his eyes brightened up wonderfully.

"I'll be much obliged to you for the — the loan," he stammered. "I'll pay you back some time, remember."

"Never mind about that," replied Dick.

"My advice to you is, to take the first ship you can for home."

"And what brought you out here — going on a hunt for your father?"

"Yes."

"You'll have a big job finding him. I understand the natives of the Congo are going on the warpath before long. They have had some difficulty with the settlers."

"I guess we'll manage to take care of ourselves," answered Tom, and then he and his brothers followed their uncle up to the rooms which had been engaged for them during their stay in the town.

"He's, down in the mouth, and no mistake," was Tom's comment, when the boys were left to themselves. "I never saw him so humble before."

"Perhaps knocking around has taught him a lesson," said Dick. "I hope he really does turn over a new leaf."

The day proved to be a busy one. Randolph Rover gathered all the information he could concerning the trail along the Congo, and also tried to locate Niwili Camp. He likewise purchased several additions to his outfits from Simon Hook, and engaged the services of several natives, the leader of whom was a brawny black named Cujo, a fellow who declared that he knew every foot of the territory to be covered and who said he was certain that he could locate King Susko sooner or later.

"Him bad man," he said soberly. "No et him catch you, or you suffer big lot!" Cujo took to Aleck from the start, and the pair soon became warm friends. The African inspected their outfits with interest and offered several suggestions regarding additional purchases.

Three days were spent in Boma, and during that time the Rovers saw a good deal of Dan Baxter, who, having nothing better to do, hung around them continually. He remained as meek as before, but our friends did not know that this was merely the meekness of a savage cur while under the whip. Baxter was naturally a brute, and lacked the backbone necessary far genuine reformation.

"Say, why can't you take me with you?" he asked, on the day that the Rover expedition was to start out. "I'm willing to do my share of the work and the fighting, and I won't charge you a cent for my service."

"I don't know as my uncle wants anybody along," said Sam, to whom Baxter addressed his remarks.

"Well, won't you speak to him about it, Sam? I can't find anything to do here, and the captains to whom I've applied don't want me on their ships," pleaded the former bully of Putnam Hall.

Sam was easily touched at all times, and he knew that Baxter must feel lonely and wretched so far from home and without friends or capital. He at once went to his brothers and his uncle and laid the big youth's proposition before them.

"We don't want him," said Dick promptly.

"I don't believe he would be of any use to us."

"I would rather give him some more money just for him to stay behind," added Tom.

Mr. Rover was thoughtful for a moment.

"And what do you say, Sam?" he asked at length.

"Well, I don't like Baxter any more than the others do. But it seems awfully hard on him. I don't believe he knows how to turn."

"We might give him enough money to get back to the United States with."

"I'd rather have you do that, Uncle Randolph," said Dick. "I don't want him with me."

"I will have a talk with the misguided boy," was the conclusion reached by Randolph Rover; but he got no chance to speak to Dan Baxter until late in the afternoon, and then, to his astonishment, Baxter's manner had changed entirely, he intimating that he wanted nothing more to do with them.

For in the meantime something which was bound to be of great importance to the Rovers had occurred. In Boma were a number of persons of mixed French and native blood who were little better than the old-time brigands of Italy. They were led by a wicked wretch who went by the name of Captain Villaire. Villaire had been watching the Rovers for two days when he noticed the coldness which seemed to exist between, our friends and Baxter. At once he threw himself in Baxter's way and began to it pump the youth regarding the Americans.

"Zay are going into the interior, you have remarked," he said in very bad English. "Are zay verra rich people?"

"Yes, they are well fixed," answered the tall youth.

"And zay do carry zare money wid zem?"

"I guess not — at least, not much of it."

"You are zare friend, eh?"

"Hardly. Out in America we were enemies."

"So? You hata zem?"

"Yes, I hate them," muttered Dan, and his eyes shone wickedly. "I'm only treating them in a friendly way now because I'm out of money and must do something."

"I see. It ees a good head you have — verra good," murmured Captain Villaire. "Do you know, I heara dem talk about you?"

"Did you? What did they say?"

"De one boy say you should be in ze jail; didn't you robba somebody."

"He had better keep his mouth shut."

"You lika do somet'ing wid me?" continued the French native, closing one eye suggestively. He was a close reader of human nature and had read Baxter's character as if it was an open book.

"What do you mean?"

"We gitta dem people into trouble — maka big lot of money."

"All right — I'll do anything," answered Baxter savagely. "So they said I ought to be in jail, eh? I'll fix 'em yet!"

"You helpa me, I helpa you," went on the wily French native.

He had his plan all ready, and, after sounding Baxter some more, revealed what was in his mind, which was simply to follow the Rovers into the interior and then make them prisoners. Once this was done, they would hold the prisoners for a handsome ransom.

"That's a big job," answered the big youth. "But I like your plan, first-rate if you can carry it out."

"Trust me," replied Captain Villaire. "I have half a dozen of ze best of killowers-za, nevair fail me. But as you knowa dem you will have to do ze lettair writing for us, so zat we git ze money from zare people at home."

"Trust me for that," responded Baxter quickly. The plot pleased him immensely. "You do the capturing and I'll make Mrs. Rover or somebody else pay up handsomely, never fear."

And so a compact was formed which was to give the Rovers a good deal of trouble in the near future.



CHAPTER XVI

THE START UP THE CONGO

"It was queer Dan Baxter should act so," said Sam to his uncle, when Mr. Rover came back from his interview with the bully. "I thought he wanted to, go the worst way."

"He acted as if he had struck something else," answered Randolph Rover. "He didn't even want the money I offered. Perhaps he has received a remittance from home."

"Who would send it to him?" put in Dick. "His father is still in jail."

"Perhaps he got Mumps to send it to him," said Sam. "But I forgot, Mumps is away."

There was no time to discuss the situation further, for they were to start early on the following morning, and there were yet a dozen small matters which must be given attention. All were busy, and it was not until after eleven that evening that they turned in.

The day for the departure from Boma dawned bright and clear, and Cujo appeared with his assistants while they were still eating breakfast.

"Werry good day for um journey," he said, with a grin. "Make good many miles if nothing go wrong."

"You can't do any too well for me," answered Dick. "I hope our expedition into the interior is both short and successful."

At eight o'clock they were off. At first they had thought to go on horseback; but this was abandoned by the advice of the native, who declared that horses would prove more of a drag than a help in many places.

"Horse canno' climb tree bridge," he explained. "No climb high rock, no go around bad hill. We go on foot an' make better time."

The town was soon left behind and they struck a highway which for several miles afforded easy traveling. On all sides were dense groves of tropical growth, palms, mangoes, and the like, with enormous vines festooned from one tree to the next. Underneath were a great variety, of ferns and mosses, the homes of countless insects and small animals. The ground was black and wherever turned up gave forth a sickly odor of decayed vegetation.

"That is regular fever territory," explained Randolph Rover. "Boys, do not sleep on the ground if you can possibly avoid it. I sincerely trust that none of us take the tropical fever."

"If I feel it coming on I'll take a good dose of quinine," declared Tom.

Fortunately they had brought along a good supply of that valuable drug.

Two days traveling passed without special incident. On one side of the highway was the broad river, which glinted like molten lead in the sunshine. They could not travel very close to its bank, for here the ground was uncertain. Once Sam left the highway to get a better view of the stream, and, before Cujo noticed it, found himself up to his knees in a muck which stuck to him like so much glue.

"Hi! help me out!" roared the youngest Rover, and all of the party turned, to behold him waving his hand frantically toward them.

"He dun got stuck in de mud!" exclaimed Aleck, and started to go to Sam's assistance, when Cujo called him back.

"Must be werry careful," said the native. "Ground bad over dare - - lose life if urn don't have a care. Wait fo' me." And he approached Sam by a circuitous route over the tufts of grass which grew like so many dots amid the swamp. Soon he was close enough to throw the youth the end of a rope he carried. The pull that, followed nearly took Sam's arms out by the sockets; but the boy was saved, to return to the others of the party with an experience which was destined to be very useful to him in, the future.

"It will teach me to be careful of where I am going after this," he declared. "Why, that bog looked almost as safe as the ground over here!"

"Tropical places are all full of just such treacherous swamps," returned Randolph Rover. "It will be wise for all of us to remember that we are now in a strange territory and that we must have our eyes and ears wide open."

At half-past eleven they came to a halt for dinner. The sun was now almost overhead, and they were glad enough to seek the shelter of a number of palms standing in front of a — native hostelry.

"We will rest here until two o'clock," said Mr. Rover. "It is all out of the question to travel in the heat of the day, as we did yesterday, in such a climate as this. Even the natives cannot stand that."

They found the hostelry presided over by a short, fat native who scarcely spoke a word of English. But he could speak French, and Mr. Rover spoke to him in that language, while Cujo carried on a talk in the native tongue. The midday repast was cooked over a fire built between several stones. The boys watched the cooking process with interest and were surprised to find, when it came to eating, that the food prepared tasted so good. They had antelope steak and a generous supply of native bread, and pure cocoa, which Tom declared as good as chocolate.

After the meal they took it easy in a number of grass hammocks stretched beneath the wide spreading palms surrounding the wayside inn, if such it might be called. Aleck and Cujo fell to smoking and telling each other stories, while the Rovers dozed away, lulled to sleep by the warm, gentle breeze which was blowing.

"I don't wonder the natives are lazy," remarked Dick, when his uncle aroused him. "I rarely slept in the daytime at home, and here I fell off without half trying."

"The climate is very enervating, Dick. That is why this section of the globe makes little or no progress toward civilization. Energetic men come here, with the best intention in the world of hustling, as it is termed, but soon their ambition oozes out of them like — well, like molasses out of a barrel lying on a hot dock in the sun.

"A good comparison," laughed Dick.

"Come, Tom; come, Sam!" he called out, and soon the party was on its way again.

The highway was still broad, but now it was not as even as before, and here and there they had to leap over just such a treacherous swamp as had caused Sam so much trouble. "It's a good thing we didn't bring the horses," said Mr. Rover. "I didn't think so before, but I do now."

The jungle was filled with countless birds, of all sorts, sizes, and colors. Some of these sang in a fairly tuneful fashion, but the majority uttered only sounds which were as painful to the hearing as they were tiresome.

"The sound is enough to drive a nervous fellow crazy," declared Tom. "It's a good thing nature fixed it so that a man can't grow up nervous here."

"Perhaps those outrageous cries are meant to wake a chap up," suggested Dick.

"I've a good mind to shoot some of the little pests."

"You may take a few shots later on and see what you can bring down for supper," answered his uncle. "But just now let us push on as fast as we can."

"Yes," put in Tom. "Remember we are out here to find father, not to hunt."

"As if I would ever forget that," answered Dick, with a reproachful glance.

They were now traveling a bit of a hill which took them, temporarily, out of sight of the Congo. Cujo declared this was a short route and much better to travel than the other. The way was through a forest of African teak wood, immense trees which seemed to tower to the very skies.

"They are as large as the immense trees of California of which you have all heard," remarked Randolph Rover. "It is a very useful wood, used extensively in ship building."

"After all, I think a boat on the Congo would have been better to use than shoe leather," said Sam, who was beginning to grow tired.

"No use a boat when come to falls," grinned Cujo. "Soon come to dem, too."

Aleck had been dragging behind, carrying a heavy load, to which he was unaccustomed. Now he rejoined the others with the announcement that another party was in their rear.

"They are on foot, too," he said. "Cujo whar you dun t'ink da be gwine?"

"To the next settlement, maybe," was Randolph Rover's comment, and Cujo nodded.

They waited a bit for the other party to come up, but it did not, and, after walking back, Cujo returned with the announcement that they were nowhere in sight.

"Perhaps they turned off on a side road," said Tom, and there the matter was dropped, to be brought to their notice very forcibly that night.

Evening found them at another hostelry, presided over by a Frenchman who had a giant negress for a wife. The pair were a crafty looking couple, and did not at all please the Rovers.

"Perhaps we may as well sleep with one eye open tonight," said Randolph Rover, upon retiring. "We are in a strange country, and it's good advice to consider every man an enemy until he proves himself a friend."

The hostelry was divided into half a dozen rooms, all on the ground floor. The Rovers were placed in two adjoining apartments, while the natives and Aleck were quartered in an addition of bamboo in the rear.

"Keep your eyes and ears open, Aleck," whispered Dick, on separating from the faithful colored man. "And if you find anything wrong let us know at once."

"Do you suspect anyt'ing, Massah Rober?" was Pop's anxious question.

"I do and I don't. Something in the air seems to tell me that everything is not as it should be."

"Dat Frenchman don't look like no angel, sah," and Aleck shook his head doubtfully.

"You're right, Aleck, and his wife is a terror, or else I miss my guess."

"Dat's right, Massah Rober; nebber saw sech sharp eyes. Yes, I'll look out-fo' my own sake as well as fo' de sake ob Ye and de rest," concluded Aleck.



CHAPTER XVII

THE ATTACK AT THE HOSTELRY

The night was exceptionally cool for that locality; and, utterly worn out by their tiresome journey, all of the Rovers slept more soundly than they had anticipated.

But not for long. Dick had scarcely dropped off when he heard a noise at the doorway, which was covered with a rough grass curtain.

"Who is there?" he demanded, sitting up.

"Dat's all right," came in a whisper from Aleck. "Is dat yo', Massah Dick?"

"Yes, Aleck. What brings you?"

"I dun discovered somet'ing, sah."

"What?"

"Dat udder party dun come up an' is in de woods back ob dis, house."

"In camp?"

"No; dare is a Frenchman wot is talkin' to dah chap wot runs dis shebang, sah."

"Perhaps he wants accommodations," mused Dick.

"Can't say about dat, sah. But de fellers who come up hab a lot ob ropes wid 'em."

"That's certainly queer."

"What's the row?" came sleepily from Tom, and presently Randolph Rover and Sam likewise awoke.

In a few words the colored man explained the situation. He had just finished when the wife of the proprietor of the resort came up to the doorway.

"The gentleman is wanted outside by my husband," she said in broken French.

"What does he want?" asked Mr. Rover.

"I can't say. But he says please to step out for a moment."

Mr. Rover repeated the woman's words to the boys. "What do you make of this?" he asked.

"I tell you something is wrong," declared Dick. "I have felt it all along."

"But what can be wrong, my lad?"

"If you go outside I'll go with you, Uncle Randolph."

"Well, you can do that if you wish."

The pair arose and speedily slipped on the few garments which they had taken off. Then Dick pulled out his pistol.

"Do you think it is as bad as that?" asked Sam.

"I don't know what to think. But I'm going to take uncle's advice and count every man an enemy until he proves himself a friend."

Soon Mr. Rover and Dick were ready to go out, and they did so, followed by Aleck and preceded by the native woman. As it was dark the Rovers easily concealed their weapons in the bosoms of their coats.

They walked past the bamboo addition and to the grove of trees Aleck had mentioned. There they found the Frenchman in conversation with Captain Villaire.

"You wish to see me?" demanded Randolph Rover.

"Very much," answered Villaire in French. "If You are Mr. Randolph Rover, are you not?"

"I am."

"And this is one of your nephews?"

"Yes."

"I believe you are hunting for the young man's father?" went on Villaire.

"We are. Do you know anything of him?" demanded Randolph Rover eagerly.

"I do. He sent me to you."

"He sent you!" cried Randolph Rover in amazement. "He is, then, alive?"

"Yes; but a prisoner, and very sick. He heard of your being in Boma by accident through a native of King Susko's tribe who was sent to the town for some supplies. I heard the story and I have been employed to lead you to him, and at once."

"But — but this is marvelous," stammered Randolph Rover. "I must say I do not understand it."

"It is a very queer turn of affairs, I admit. The other Mr. Rover must explain to you when you meet. He wishes you to come to him alone. It will not be safe for more."

As well as he was able Randolph Rover explained matters to Dick. In the meantime, however, the youth had been looking around sharply and had noted several forms gliding back and forth in the gloom under the trees. Dick was more suspicious than ever.

"Uncle Randolph, I don't believe this man," he said briefly. "The story he tells is too unnatural."

"I think so myself, Dick; but still -"

"Why didn't this man come straight to the house to tell us this?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Ask him."

Randolph Rover put the question to Captain Villaire. The Frenchman scowled deeply and shrugged his shoulders. "I had my reason," he said briefly. "Will you come with me?"

Before Randolph Rover could answer there came a shout from behind several trees.

"Look out fo' yourselves!" came in Aleck's voice. "Dis am a trap!"

"A trap!" repeated Dick, when of a sudden a half dozen men rushed at him and Randolph Rover and surrounded the pair. In a twinkle, before either could use his pistol, he was hurled flat and made a prisoner.

"Bind them, men," ordered Villaire sternly. "And bind them well, so that escape is impossible."

"Run for the house, Aleck!" yelled, out Dick, before those on top of him could choke him off. "Save Tom and Sam!

"I will!" came from the faithful black. And off he sped at top speed, with three or four of Captain Villaire's party after him. Cujo also went to the house, bewildered by what was going on and hardly knowing how to turn.

Randolph Rover fought desperately and so did Dick. But the two were no match for the six men who had attacked them, and ere they knew it the Rovers were close prisoners, with their hands bound behind them and each with a dirty gag of grass stuffed in his mouth.

"Now march, or you will be shot," came in bad English from one of the Villaire party. And as there seemed nothing better to do they marched, wondering why they had been attacked and where they were to be taken. Their arms had been confiscated, so further resistance was useless. When Dick lagged behind he received a cruel blow on the back which nearly sent him headlong.

A journey of several hours brought the party to a small clearing overlooking the Congo at a point where the bank was fully fifty feet above the surface of the stream. Here, in years gone by, a rough log hut had been built, which the African International Association had once used as a fort during a war with the natives. The log hut was in a state of decay, but still fit for use and almost hidden from view by the dense growth of vines which covered it.

The men who had brought Randolph Rover and Dick hither evidently knew all about the hut, for they proceeded to make themselves at home without delay. Taking the Rovers into one of the apartments of the dilapidated building they tied each to the logs of the walls, one several yards from the other.

"Now you must wait until Captain Villaire returns," said the leader of the party in French. He will be here before daylight."

"But what does this mean?" demanded Randolph Rover.

"He will tell you what it means," grinned the brigand, and walked away to another part of the hut, which was built in a long, rambling fashion, and contained a dozen or more divisions.

"We are in a pickle," remarked Dick dismally. "This is hunting up father with a vengeance."

"We won't despair yet, Dick. But I would like to know what this means."

"It probably means robbery, for one thing, Uncle Randolph. And it may mean death." And the youth, shuddered.

"If I am not mistaken I saw some of these rascals hanging around the hotel in Boma."

"That is more than likely. They have been watching their chance to attack us ever since we left the town."

Slowly the hours wore away until morning dawned. The positions of both Dick and his uncle were most uncomfortable ones, and the youth was ready to groan aloud at the strain put upon his shoulders through having his arms tied behind him.

At last they heard footsteps approaching from the opposite end of the rambling building.

"Somebody at last!" cried Dick.

He had scarcely spoken when Captain Villaire appeared, followed by — Dan Baxter!



CHAPTER XVIII

A DEMAND OF IMPORTANCE

Dick could scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyesight as he gazed at the former bully of Putnam Hall and the Frenchman who stood beside him.

"Baxter! Is it possible!" he gasped. "What brought you here?"

"Are you a prisoner, too?" put in Randolph Rover.

"A prisoner!" laughed Baxter. "Well, that's a good one, I must say. No, I am not a prisoner."

"And what brought you here?" went on Mr. Rover.

"Can't you imagine?"

"He is in with these rascals who have captured us," came quickly from Dick. "This is how you repay our kindness, Baxter?"

"Your kindness? Bah! I want none of it. Didn't I refuse your offer, made just before you went away?"

"But you didn't refuse the first money we gave you, Baxter."

At this the bully bit his lip. "We won't talk about that, Dick Rover. Do you realize that you are absolutely in my power? How do you like it?"

"It was not you who captured us, Baxter."

"Well, it amounts to the same thing, eh, Capitan Villaire?" and the big boy turned to the French brigand, who nodded. "We collared you nicely."

"What of Sam and Tom?" asked Randolph Rover anxiously.

"Ve will not speak of zem udders," broke in Captain Villaire. "Ve vill speak apout you."

"Did Baxter put up this plot against us? queried Dick.

"To be sure I did," answered Baxter, who loved to brag just as much as ever.

"And before I let you go I'm going to make you pay up dearly for all that I have suffered. Captain Villaire, have you had them searched?" he asked, turning again to his companion.

"Yees, Baxter, but za had not mooch monish wid zem."

"How much?"

"Only about a hundred pounds."

"Then they left it behind at Binoto's place," was the quick answer. "Now if those others aren't captured —"

"Hush, ve vill not speak of zat," put in the brigand hastily. "Tell zeni what I haf tole you."

"All right, I will." Dan Baxter turned once more to the prisoners. "Do you know why you were brought here?"

"To be robbed, I presume," answered Randolph Rover.

"Or that and worse," said Dick significantly,

"I reckon I have a right to all of your money, Dick Rover."

"I don't see how you make that out, Baxter."

"Years ago your father robbed mine out of the rights to a rich gold mine in the United States."

"That's your side of the story. I claim, and so did my father, that the mine was ours."

"It's a falsehood. The mine was discovered by my fattier, and if everything had gone right he would have had the income from it."

"This is ancient history, Baxter. Come to business. What do you intend to do with us?"

"We intend to make money out of you," was the answer, given with a rude laugh.

"In what manner?"

"First you will have to answer a few questions."

"Zat ees it," put in Captain Villaire. "How mooch morlish you bring wid you from America?"

"We didn't bring much," answered Randolph Rover, who began to smell a mouse.

"How mooch?"

"About two hundred pounds."

"Humph, a thousand dollars!" sneered Baxter. "That won't do at all."

"You must haf brought more!" cried the French brigand angrily.

"Not much more."

"You leave zat in Boma, wid ze bankers, eh?"

"Yes."

"But you haf von big lettair of credit, not so?"

"Yes, we have a letter of credit," answered Randolph Rover. "But that won't do you any good, nor the money at the banker's neither."

"Ve see about zat, monsieur. Proceed," and Captain Villaire waved his hand toward Dan Baxter.

"This is the situation in a nutshell, to come right down to business," said the former bully of Putnam Hall coolly. "You are our prisoners, and you can't get away, no matter how hard you try. Captain Villaire and his men, as well as myself, are in this affair to make money. The question is, what is your liberty worth to you?"

"So you intend to work such a game?" demanded Dick.

"That's the game, yes."

"Well, I shan't pay you a cent."

"Don't be a fool, Dick Rover. We are not to be trifled with."

"Well, I haven't any money, and that ends it. You already have all I had."

"Then you will have to foot the bill," continued Dan Baxter, turning to Randolph Rover.

"If you value your liberty you will pay us what we demand."

"And what do you demand?" questioned Mr. Rover.

"We demand twenty thousand dollars — ten thousand for the liberty of each."

This demand nearly took away Randolph Rover's breath.

"Twenty thousand dollars!" he gasped. "It is — is preposterous!"

"Is it? You are worth a good deal more than that, Mr. Rover. And I am demanding only what is fair."

"You shall never get the money."

"Won't we?"

"Never!"

"Perhaps you'll sing a different tune in a few, days — after your stomachs get empty," responded Dan Baxter, with a malicious gleam in his fishy eyes. "So you mean to starve us into acceding to your demands," said Dick. "Baxter, I always did put you down as a first-class rascal. If you keep, on, you'll be more of a one than your father."

In high rage the former bully of Putnam Hall strode forward and without warning struck the defenseless Dick a heavy blow on the cheek.

"That, for your impudence," he snarled. "You keep a civil tongue in your head. If you don't —" He finished with a shake of his fist.

"You had bettair make up your mind to pay ze monish," said Captain Villaire, after a painful pause. "It will be ze easiest way out of ze situation for you."

"Don't you pay a cent, Uncle Randolph," interrupted Dick quickly. Then Baxter hit him again, such a stinging blow that he almost lost consciousness.

"For shame!" ejaculated Mr. Rover. "He is tied up, otherwise you would never have the courage to attack him. Baxter, have you no spirit of fairness at all in your composition?"

"Don't preach — I won't listen to it!" fumed the bully. "You have got to pay that money. If you don't — well, I don't believe you'll ever reach America alive, that's all."

With these words Dan Baxter withdrew, followed by Captain Villaire.

"You think za will pay?" queried the French brigand anxiously.

"To be sure they will pay. They value their lives too much to refuse. Just wait until they have suffered the pangs of hunger and thirst, and you'll see how they change their tune."

"You are certain za have ze monish?"

"Yes; they are rich. It will only be a question of waiting for the money after they send for it."

"I vill not mind zat."

"Neither will I — if we are safe here. You don't think anybody will follow us?"

"Not unless za find ze way up from ze rivair. Za cannot come here by land, because of ze swamps," answered the Frenchman. "And ze way from ze rivair shall be well guarded from now on," he added.



CHAPTER XIX

WHAT HAPPENED TO TOM AND SAM

Let us return to Tom and Sam, at the time they were left alone at Binoto's hostelry.

"I wish we had gone with Dick and Uncle Randolph," said Tom, as he slipped into his coat and shoes. "I don't like this thing at all."

"Oh, don't get scared before you are hurt, Tom!" laughed his younger brother. "These people out here may be peculiar, but —"

Sam did not finish. A loud call from the woods had reached his ears, and in alarm he too began to dress, at the same time reaching for his pistol and the money belt which Randolph Rover had left behind.

"I — I guess something is wrong," he went on, after a pause. "If we -"

"Tom! Sam! look out fo' yourselves!" came from Aleck, and in a second more the negro, burst on their view. "Come, if yo' is dressed!" he added.

"Where to?" asked Tom hurriedly.

"Anywhar, Massah Tom. De others is took prisoners! Come!" And Aleck almost dragged the boy along.

The Rover boys could readily surmise that Aleck would not act in this highly excited manner unless there was good cause for it. Consequently, as Sam said afterward, "They didn't stand on the order of their going, but just flew." Pell-mell out of the hostelry they tumbled, and ran up the highway as rapidly as their nimble limbs would permit.

They heard several men coming after them, and heard the command "Halt!" yelled after them in both French and bad English. But they did not halt until a sudden tumble on Tom's part made the others pause in dismay.

"Oh, great Caesar!" groaned the fun-loving Rover, and tried to stand up. "I guess I've twisted my ankle."

"Can't you even walk?" asked Sam.

"We ain't got no time ter lose!" panted Aleck, who was almost winded. "If we stay here we'll be gobbled up — in no time, dat's shuah!"

"Let us try to carry Tom," said Sam, and attempted to lift his brother up. But the load made him stagger.

"De trees — let us dun hide in, de trees!" went on the negro, struck by a certain idea. "Come on, quick!"

"Yes - yes — anything!" groaned Tom, and then shut his teeth hard to keep himself from screaming with pain.

Together they carried the suffering youth away from the highway to where there was a thick jungle of trees and tropical vines. The vines, made convenient ladders by which to get up into the trees, and soon Sam and Aleck were up and pulling poor Tom after them.

"Now we must be still," said Aleck, when they were safe for the time being. "Hear dem a-conun' dis way."

The three listened and soon made out the footsteps of the approaching party. They soon passed on up the road.

"We've fooled them," whispered Sam.

"But, oh, Aleck, what does it all mean?"

"It means dat yo' uncle an' Dick am prisoners — took by a lot of rascals under a tall, Frenchman."

"Yes, but I don't understand —"

"No more do I, Massah Sam, but it war best to git out, dat's as shuah as yo' is born," added the colored man solemnly.

Poor Torn was having a wretched time of it with his ankle, which hurt as badly as ever and had begun to swell. As he steadied himself on one of the limbs of the tree Sam removed his shoe, which gave him a little relief.

From a distance came a shouting, and they made out through the trees the gleam of a torch. But soon the sounds died out and the light disappeared.

What should they do next? This was a question impossible to answer.

"One thing is certain, I can't walk just yet," said Tom. "When I put my foot down it's like a thousand needles darting through my leg."

"Let us go below and hunt up some water," said Sam; and after waiting a while longer they descended into the small brush. Aleck soon found a pool not far distant, and to this they carried Tom, and after all had had a drink, the swollen ankle was bathed, much to the sufferer's relief.

Slowly the time dragged by until morning. As soon as the sun was up Aleck announced that he was going back to the hostelry to see how the land lay.

"But don't expose yourself," said Tom. "I am certain now that is a regular robbers' resort, or worse."

Aleck was gone the best part of three hours. When he returned he was accompanied by Cujo. The latter announced that all of the other natives had fled for parts unknown.

"The inn is deserted," announced Aleck. Even that colored wife of the proprietor is gone.

"And did you find any trace of Dick and my uncle?" asked Sam.

"We found out where dat struggle took place," answered, Aleck. "And Cujo reckons as how he can follow de trail if we don't wait too long to do it."

"Must go soon," put in Cujo for himself.

"Maybe tomorrow come big storm — den track all washed away."

Tom sighed and shook his head. "You can go on, but you'll have to leave me behind. I couldn't walk a hundred yards for a barrel of gold."

"Oh, we can't think of leaving you behind!" cried Sam.

"I'll tell you wot — Ise dun carry him, at least fe a spell," said Aleck, and so it was arranged.

Under the new order of things Cujo insisted on making a scouting tour first, that he might strike the trail before carrying them off on a circuitous route, thus tiring Aleck out before the real tracking began.

The African departed, to be gone the best Part of an hour. When he came back there was a broad grin of satisfaction on his homely features.

"Cujo got a chicken," he announced, producing the fowl. "And here am some werry good roots, too. Now va dinner befo' we start out."

"Right yo' am, Cujo!" cried Pop, and began to start up a fire without delay, while Cujo cleaned the fowl and mashed up the roots, which, when baked on a hot stone, tasted very much like sweet potatoes. The meal was enjoyed by all, even Tom eating his full share in spite of his swollen ankle, which was now gradually resuming its normal condition.

Cujo had found the trail at a distance of an eighth of a mile above the wayside hostelry. "Him don't lead to de ribber dare," he said. "But I dun think somet'ing of him."

"And what do you think?" asked Tom, from his seat on Aleck's back.

"I t'ink he go to de kolobo."

"And what is the kolobo?" asked Sam with interest.

"De kolobo old place on ribber-place where de white soldiers shoot from big fort-house."

"A fort!" cried Tom. "But would the authorities allow, them to go there?"

"No soldiers dare now — leave kolobo years ago. Place most tumble down now. But good place fo' robbers."

"I see. Well, follow the trail as best you can — and we'll see what we will see."

"And let us get along just as fast as we can," added Sam.

On they went through a forest that in spots was so thick they could scarcely pass. The jungle contained every kind of tropical growth, including ferns, which were beautiful beyond description, and tiny vines so wiry that they cut like a knife.

"This is tough," remarked Sam. "But I suppose it doesn't hold a candle to what is beyond."

"Werry bad further on," answered Cujo. "See, here am de trail," and he pointed it out.

Several miles were covered, when they came to a halt in order to rest and to give Aleck a let up in carrying Tom. The youth now declared his foot felt much better and hobbled along for some distance by leaning on Sam's shoulder.

Presently they were startled by hearing a cry from a distance. They listened intently, then Cujo held up his hand.

"Me go an' see about dat," he said. "Keep out ob sight, all ob you!" And he glided into the bushes with the skill and silence of a snake.

Another wait ensued, and Tom improved the time by again bathing his foot in a pool which was discovered not far from where Cujo had left them. The water seemed to do much good, and the youth declared that by the morrow he reckoned he would be able to do a fair amount of walking if they did not progress too rapidly.

"But what a country this is!" he murmured.

I declare they could burn wood night and day for a century and never miss a stick."

"I thought I heard some monkeys chattering a while ago," answered Sam. "I suppose the interior is alive with them."

"I dun see a monkey lookin' at us now, from dat tree," observed Aleck. "See dem shinin' eyes back ob de leaves?" He pointed with his long forefinger, and both, boys gazed in the direction. Then Tom gave a yell.

"A monkey? That's a snake! Look out for yourselves!"

He started back and the others did the same. And they were none too soon, for an instant later the leaves were thrust apart and a serpent's form appeared, swaying slowly to and fro, as if contemplating a drop upon their very heads!



CHAPTER XX

THE FIGHT AT THE OLD FORT

For the instant after the serpent appeared nobody spoke or moved. The waving motion of the reptile was fascinating to the last degree, as was also that beady stare from its glittering eyes. The stare was fixed upon poor Tom, and having retreated but a few feet, he now stood as though rooted to the spot. Slowly the form of the snake was lowered, until only the end of its tail kept it up on the tree branch. Then the head and neck began to swing back and forth, in a straight line with Tom's face.

The horrible fascination held the poor, boy as by a spell, and he could do nothing but look at those eyes, which seemed to bum themselves upon his very brain. Closer and closer, and still closer, they came to his face, until at last the reptile prepared to strike.

Crack! It was Sam's pistol that spoke up, at just the right instant, and those beady eyes were ruined forever, and the wounded head twisted in every direction, while the body of the serpent, dropping from the tree, lashed and dashed hither and thither in its agony. Then the spell was broken, and Tom let out such a yell of terror as had never before issued from his lips.

Crack! came a second shot from Sam's pistol. But the serpent was moving around too rapidly for a good aim to be taken, and only the tip of the tail was struck. Then, in a mad, blind fashion, the snake coiled itself upon Aleck's foot, and began, with lightning-like rapidity, to encircle the colored man's body.

"Help!" shrieked Aleck, trying to pull the snake off with his hands. "Help! or Ise a dead man, shuah!"

"Catch him by the neck, Aleck!" ejaculated Tom, and brought out his own pistol. Watching his chance, he pulled the trigger twice, sending both bullets straight through the reptile's body. Then Sam fired again, and the mangled head fell to the ground.

But dead or alive the body still encircled Aleck, and the contraction threatened to cave in the colored man's ribs.

"Pull him off somehow!" he gasped. "Pull him off!"

Crack! went Tom's pistol once more, and now the snake had evidently had enough of it, for it uncoiled slowly and fell to the ground in a heap, where it slowly shifted from one spot to another until life was extinct. But neither the boys nor the colored man waited to see if it was really dead. Instead, they took to their heels and kept on running until the locality was left a considerable distance behind.

"That was a close shave," said Tom, as he dropped on the ground and began to nurse his lame ankle once more. "Ugh! but that snake was enough to give one the nightmare!"

"Don't say a word," groaned Aleck, who had actually turned pale. "I vought shuah I was a goner, I did fo' a fac'! I don't want to meet no mo' snakes!"

The two boys reloaded their pistols with all rapidity, and this was scarcely accomplished when they heard Cujo calling to them. Soon the native put in an appearance. When told of what had happened he would not believe the tale until he had gone back to look at the dead snake.

"You werry lucky," he said. "Him big wonder um snake didn't kill all of yo'!"

Cujo had made an important discovery. He had located Captain Villaire's party at the old fort, and said that several French brigands were on guard, by the trail leading from the swamp and at the cliff overlooking the river.

"I see white boy dare too," he added. "Same boy wot yo' give money to in Boma."

"Dan Baxter!" ejaculated Sam. "Can it be possible that he is mixed up in this affair?"

"I can't understand it at all," returned Tom. "But the question is, now we have tracked the rascals, what is to be done next?"

After a long talk it was resolved to get as close to the old fort as possible. Cujo said they need not hurry, for it would be best to wait until nightfall before making any demonstration against their enemies. The African was very angry to think that the other natives had deserted the party, but this anger availed them nothing.

Four o'clock in the afternoon found them on the edge of the swamp and not far from the bank of the Congo. Beyond was the cliff, overgrown in every part with rank vegetation, and the ever-present vines, which hung down like so many ropes of green.

"If we want to get up the wall we won't want any scaling ladders," remarked Tom grimly. "Oh, if only we knew that Dick and Uncle Randolph were safe!"

"I'm going to find out pretty soon," replied Sam. "I'll tell you what I think. I think they are being held for ransom."

"I was thinking of that, too. But I didn't dream of such a thing being done down here although, I know it is done further north in Africa among the Moors and Algerians."

Cujo now went off on another scout and did not return until the sun was setting. Again he was full of smiles.

"I can show you a way up de rocks," he said. "We can get to the walls of um fort, as you call um, without being seen."

Soon night was upon them, for in the tropics there is rarely any twilight. Tom now declared himself able to walk once more, and they moved off silently, like so many shadows, beside the swamp and then over a fallen palm to where a series of rocks, led up to the cliff proper.

"Sh-ah!" came presently from Cujo. "Man ahead!"

They came to a halt, and through the gloom saw a solitary figure sitting on a rock. The sentinel held a gun over his knees and was smoking a cigarette.

"If he sees us he will give the alarm," whispered Tom. "Can't we capture him without making a noise?"

"Dat's de talk," returned Aleck. "Cujo, let us dun try dat trick."

Cujo nodded. "Urn boys stay here," he said. "Cujo fix dat feller!"

And off he crawled through the wet grass, taking a circuitous route which brought him up on the sentinel's left.

Presently the sentinel started to rise. As he did so Cujo leaped from the grass and threw him to the earth. Then a long knife flashed in the air. "No speak, or um diet" came softly; but, the Frenchman realized that the African meant what he said.

"I will be silent!" he growled, in the language of the African. "Don't — don't choke me."

Cujo let out a low whistle, which the others rightly guessed was a signal for them to come up. Finding himself surrounded, the Frenchman gave up his gun and other weapons without a struggle. He could talk no English, so what followed had to be translated by Cujo.

"Yes, de man an' boy are dare," explained Cujo, pointing to the fort. "Da chained up, so dis rascal say. De captain ob de band want heap money to let um go."

"Ask him how many of the band there are," asked Sam.

But at this question the Frenchman shook his head. Either he did not know or would not tell.

After a consultation the rascal was made to march back to safer ground. Then he was strapped to a tree and gagged. The straps were not fastened very tightly, so that the man was sure to gain his liberty sooner or later. "If we didn't come back and he was too tight he might starve to death," said Tom.

"Not but wot he deserves to starve," said Aleck, with a scowl at the crestfallen prisoner.

At the foot of the cliff all was as dark and silent as a tomb. "We go slow now, or maybe take a big tumble," cautioned Cujo. "Perhaps him better if me climb up first," and he began the dangerous ascent of the cliff by means of the numerous vines already mentioned.

He was halfway up when the others started after him, Sam first, Tom next, and Aleck bringing up in the rear.

Slowly they arose until the surface of the stream was a score or more of feet below them. Then came the sounds of footsteps from above and suddenly a torch shone down into their upturned faces.

"Hullo, who's this?" came in English and the Rover boys recognized Dan Baxter.

"Silence, on your life!" cried Tom.

"Tom Rover!" gasped the bully. "How came you —"

"Silence, Baxter! I have a pistol and you know I am a good shot. Stand where you an and put both hands over your head."

"Will I stand? Not much!" yelled the bully, and flung his torch straight at Tom. Then he turned and ran for the fort, giving the alarm at the top of his lungs.

The torch struck Tom on the neck, and for the moment the youth was in danger of losing his hold on the vines and tumbling to the jagged rocks below. But then the torch slipped away, past Sam and Aleck, and went hissing into the dark waters of the Congo.

By this time Cujo had reached the top of the cliff and was making after Baxter. Both gained the end of the fort at the same time and one mighty blow from Cujo's club laid Baxter senseless near the doorway.

"Help! help!" The cry came in Dick's voice, and was plainly heard by Sam and Tom. Then Captain Villaire appeared, and a rough and tumble battle ensued, which the Rovers well remember to this day.

But Tom was equal to the occasion, and after the first onslaught he turned, as if summoning help from the cliff. "This way!" he cried. "Tell the company to come up here and the other company can surround the swamp!"

Several pistol shots rang out, and the boys saw a Frenchman go down with a broken arm. Then Captain Villaire shouted: "We have been betrayed — we must flee!" The cry came in French, and as if by magic the brigands disappeared into the woods behind the old fort; and victory was upon the side of our friends.



CHAPTER XXI

INTO THE HEART OF AFRICA

"Well, I sincerely trust we have no more such adventures."

The speaker was Randolph Rover. He was seated on an old bench in one of the rooms of the fort, binding up a finger which had been bruised in the fray. It was two hours later, and the fight had come to an end some time previous. Nobody was seriously hurt, although Sam, Dick, and Aleck were suffering from several small wounds. Aleck had had his ear clipped by a bullet from Captain Villaire's pistol and was thankful that he had not been killed.

Baxter, the picture of misery, was a prisoner. The bully's face was much swollen and one eye was in deep mourning. He sat huddled up in a heap in a corner and wondering what punishment would be dealt out to him. "I suppose they'll kill me," he groaned, and it may be added that he thought he almost deserved that fate.

"You came just in time," said Dick. "Captain Villaire was about to torture us into writing letters home asking for the money he wanted as a ransom. Baxter put it into his head that we were very rich."

"Oh, please don't say anything more about it!" groaned the unfortunate bully. "I — that Frenchman put up this job all on his own hook."

"I don't believe it," came promptly from Randolph Rover. "You met him, at Boma; you cannot deny it."

"So I did; but be didn't say he was going to capture you, and I -"

"We don't care to listen to your falsehoods, Baxter," interrupted Dick sternly.

"You are fully as guilty as anybody. You admitted it before."

Cujo had gone off to watch Captain Villaire and his party. He now came back, bringing word that the brigand had taken a fallen tree and put out on the Congo and was drifting down the stream along with several of his companions in crime.

"Him won't come back," said the tall African. "Him had enough of urn fight."

Nevertheless the whole party remained on guard until morning, their weapons ready for instant use. But no alarm came, and when day, dawned they soon made sure that they had the entire locality around the old fort to themselves, the Frenchman with a broken arm having managed to crawl off and reach his friends.

What to do with Dan Baxter was a conundrum.

"We can't take him with us, and if we leave him behind he will only be up to more evil," said Dick. "We ought to turn him over to the British authorities."

"No, no, don't do that," pleaded the tall youth. "Let me go and I'll promise never to interfere with you again."

"Your promises are not worth the breath used in uttering them," replied Tom. "Baxter, a worse rascal than you could not be imagined. Why don't you try to turn over a new leaf?"

"I will — if you'll only give me one more chance," pleaded the former bully of Putnam Hall.

The matter was discussed in private and it was at last decided to let Baxter go, providing he would, promise to return straight to the coast.

"And remember," said Dick, "if we catch you following us again we will shoot you on sight."

"I won't follow — don't be alarmed," was the low answer, and then Baxter was released and conducted to the road running down to Boma. He was given the knife he had carried, but the Rovers kept his pistol, that he might not be able to take a long-range shot at them. Soon he was out of their sight, not to turn up again for a long while to come.

It was not until the heat of the day had been spent that the expedition resumed its journey, after, an excellent meal made from the supplies Captain Villaire's party had left behind in their hurried flight. Some of the remaining supplies were done up into bundles by Cujo, to replace those which had been lost when the natives hired by Randolph Rover had deserted.

"It's queer we didn't see anything of that man and woman from the inn," remarked Dick, as they set off. "I reckon they got scared at the very start."

They journeyed until long after nightfall, "To make up for lost time," as Mr. Rover expressed it, and so steadily did Cujo push on that when a halt was called the boys were glad enough to rest. They had reached a native village called Rowimu. Here Cujo was well known and he readily procured good accommodations for all hands.

The next week passed without special incident, excepting that one afternoon the whole party went hunting, bringing down a large quantity of birds, and several small animals, including an antelope, which to the boys looked like a Maine deer excepting for the peculiar formation of its horns.

"I wonder how Mr. Blaze is making out?" said Tom, when they were returning to camp from the hunt.

"Oh, I reckon he is blasting away at game," laughed Sam, and Tom at once groaned over the attempted joke.

"Perhaps we will meet him some day — if he's in this territory," put in Dick. "But just now I am looking for nobody but father."

"And so are all of us," said Tom and Sam promptly.

They were getting deeper and deeper into the jungle and had to take good care that they did not become separated. Yet Cujo said he understood the way perfectly and often proved his words by mentioning something which they would soon reach, a stream, a little lake, or a series of rocks with a tiny waterfall.

"Been ober dis ground many times," said the guide.

"I suppose this is the ground Stanley covered in his famous expedition along the Congo," remarked Dick, as they journeyed along. "But who really discovered the country, Uncle Randolph?"

"That is a difficult question to answer, Dick. The Portuguese, the Spanish, and the French all claim that honor, along with the English. I fancy different sections, were discovered by different nationalities. This Free State, you know, is controlled by half a dozen nations."

"I wonder if the country will ever be thoroughly civilized?"

"It will take a long while, I am afraid. Christianity will have to come first. Many of the tribes in Africa are, you must remember, without any form of religion whatever, being even worse than what we call heathens, who worship some sort of a God."

"Don't they believe in anything?" asked Sam.

"Nothing, Sam. And their morality is of the lowest grade in consequence. They murder and steal whenever the chance offers, and when they think the little children too much care for them they pitch them into the rivers for the crocodiles to feed upon."

"The beasts!" murmured Tom. "Well, I reckon at that rate, civilization can't come too quick, even if it has to advance behind bayonets and cannon."



CHAPTER XXII

A HURRICANE IN THE JUNGLE

On and on went the expedition. In the past many small towns and villages had been visited where there were more or less white people; but now they reached a territory where the blacks held full sway, with — but this was rarely — a Christian missionary among them.

At all of the places which were visited Cujo inquired about King Susko and his people, and at last learned that the African had passed to the southeast along the Kassai River, driving before him several hundred head of cattle which he had picked up here and there.

"Him steal dat cattle," explained Cujo, "but him don't say dat stealin', him say um — um -"

"A tax on the people?" suggested Dick.

"Yes, um tax. But him big Vief."

"He must be, unless he gives the people some benefit for the tax they are forced to pay," said Tom.

At one of the villages they leaned that there was another American Party in that territory, one sent out by an Eastern college to collect specimens of the flora of central Africa. It was said that the party consisted of an elderly man and half a dozen young fellows.

"I wouldn't mind meeting that crowd," said Sam. "They might brighten up things a bit."

"Never mind; things will pick up when once we meet King Susko," said Dick. "But I would like to know where the crowd is from and who is in it."

"It's not likely we would know them if they are from the East," said Sam. "Probably they hail from Yale or Harvard."

Two days later the storm which Cujo had predicted for some time caught them while they were in the midst of an immense forest of teak and rosewood. It was the middle of the afternoon, yet the sky became as black as night, while from a distance came the low rumble of thunder. There was a wind rushing high up in the air, but as yet this had not come down any further than the treetops. The birds of the jungle took up the alarm and filled the forest with their discordant cries, and even the monkeys, which were now numerous, sit up a jabber which would have been highly trying to the nerves of a nervous person.

"Yes, we catch um," said Cujo, in reply to Dick's question. "Me look for safe place too stay."

"You think the storm will be a heavy one?" asked Randolph Rover anxiously.

"Werry heavy, massah; werry heavy," returned Cujo. "Come wid me, all ob you," and he set off on a run.

All followed as quickly as they could, and soon found themselves under a high mass of rocks overlooking the Kassai River. They had hardly gained the shelter when the storm burst over their heads in all of its wild fury.

"My, but this beats anything that I ever saw before!" cried Sam, as the wind began to rush by them with ever-increasing velocity.

"Him blow big by-me-by," said Cujo with a sober face. "Him big storm, dis."

"The air was full of a moanin' sound," to use Aleck's way of expressing it. It came from a great distance and caused the monkeys and birds to set up more of a noise than ever. The trees were now swaying violently, and presently from a distance came a crack like that of a big pistol.