"You are better, my darling," said Mrs. Weldon, pressing the sick child to her heart.
"Yes, mama," replied Jack, "but I am a little thirsty."
They could only give the child some fresh water, of which he drank with pleasure.
"And my friend Dick?" he said.
"Here I am, Jack," replied Dick Sand, coming to take the young child's hand.
"And my friend Hercules?"
"Hercules is here, Mr. Jack," replied the giant, bringing nearer his good face.
"And the horse?" demanded little Jack.
"The horse? Gone, Mr. Jack," replied Hercules. "I will carry you. Will you find that I too hard?"
"No," replied little Jack; "but then I shall no longer have any to hold."
"Oh! you will put a bit in my mouth, if you wish," said Hercules, opening his large mouth, "and you may pull back so long as that will give you pleasure."
"You know very well that I shall not pull back."
"Good! You would be wrong! I have a hard mouth."
"But Mr. Harris's farm?" the little boy asked again.
"We shall soon arrive there, my Jack," replied Mrs. Weldon. "Yes, soon!"
"Will we set out again?" then said Dick Sand, in order to cut short this conversation.
"Yes, Dick, let us go," replied Mrs. Weldon.
The camp was broken up, and the march continued again in the same order. It was necessary to pass through the underwood, so as not to leave the course of the . There had been some paths there, , but those paths were dead, according to the native expression—that is, brambles and brushwood had them. In these painful conditions they might spend three hours in making one mile. The blacks worked without . Hercules, after putting little Jack back in Nan's arms, took his part of the work; and what a part! He gave "heaves," making his ax turn round, and a hole was made before them, as if he had been a fire.
Fortunately, this work would not last. This first mile cleared, they saw a large hole, opened through the underwood, which ended at the rivulet and followed its bank. It was a passage made by elephants, and those animals, doubtless by hundreds, were in the habit of traversing this part of the forest. Great holes, made by the feet of the enormous pachyderms, a soil during the rainy season. Its spongy nature also prepared it for those large .
It soon appeared that this passage did not serve for those gigantic animals alone. Human beings had more than once taken this route, but as flocks, led to the slaughter-house, would have followed it. Here and there bones of dead bodies the ground; of skeletons, half by animals, some of which still bore the slave's .
There are, in Central Africa, long roads thus marked out by human débris. Hundreds of miles are traversed by , and how many unhappy fall by the way, under the agents' whips, killed by or privations, decimated by sickness! How many more massacred by the traders themselves, when food fails! Yes, when they can no longer feed them, they kill them with the gun, with the sword, with the knife! These are not rare.
So, then, caravans of slaves had followed this road. For a mile Dick Sand and his companions struck against these bones at each step, putting to flight enormous fern-. Those owls rose at their approach, with a heavy flight, and turned round in the air.
Mrs. Weldon looked without seeing. Dick Sand trembled lest she should question him, for he hoped to lead her back to the coast without telling her that Harris's treachery had led them astray in an African province. Fortunately, Mrs. Weldon did not explain to herself what she had under her eyes. She had desired to take her child again, and little Jack, asleep, absorbed all her care. Nan walked near her, and neither of them asked the young the terrible questions he .
Old Tom went along with his eyes down. He understood only too well why this opening was strewn with human bones.
His companions looked to the right, to the left, with an air of surprise, as if they were crossing an interminable , the tombs of which had been by a ; but they passed in silence.
Meanwhile, the bed of the rivulet became deeper and wider at the same time. Its current was less impetuous. Dick Sand hoped that it would soon become navigable, or that it would before long reach a more important river, to the Atlantic.
Cost what it might, the young novice was to follow this stream of water. Neither did he hesitate to abandon this opening; because, as ending by an line, it led away from the rivulet.
The little party a second time ventured through the underwood. They marched, ax in hand, through leaves and bushes inextricably interlaced.
But if this vegetation the ground, they were no longer in the thick forest that bordered the coast. Trees became rare. Large sheaves of bamboo alone rose above the grass, and so high that even Hercules was not a head over them. The passage of the little party was only revealed by the movement of these stalks.
Toward three o'clock in the afternoon of that day, the nature of the ground totally changed. Here were long plains, which must have been in the rainy season. The earth, now more , was carpeted by thick , beneath charming ferns. Should it be by any steep , they would see brown hematites appear, the last deposits of some rich of mineral.
Dick Sand then recalled—and very fortunately—what he had read in "Livingstone's Travels." More than once the daring doctor had nearly rested in these , so under foot.
"Listen to me, my friends," said he, going ahead. "Try the ground before stepping on it."
"In fact," replied Tom, "they say that these grounds have been softened by the rain; but, however, it has not rained during these last days."
"No," replied Bat; "but the storm is not far off."
"The greater reason," replied Dick Sand, "why we should hurry and get clear of this swamp before it commences. Hercules, take little Jack in your arms. Bat, Austin, keep near Mrs. Weldon, so as to be able to help her if necessary. You, Mr. Benedict—Why, what are you doing, Mr. Benedict?"
"I am falling!" innocently replied Cousin Benedict, who had just disappeared as if a trap had been suddenly opened beneath his feet.
In fact, the poor man had ventured on a sort of , and had disappeared half-way in the sticky mud. They stretched out their hands, and he rose, covered with slime, but quite satisfied at not having injured his precious entomologist's box. Acteon went beside him, and made it his duty to preserve the unlucky, near-sighted man from any new disasters.
Besides, Cousin Benedict had made rather a bad choice of the quagmire for his . When they drew him out of the sticky earth a large quantity of bubbles rose to the surface, and, in bursting, they emitted some gases of a odor. Livingstone, who had been sunk up to his chest in this slime, compared these grounds to a collection of enormous sponges, made of black, earth, from which numerous streams of water when they were stepped upon. These places were always very dangerous.
For the space of half a mile Dick Sand and his companions must march over this spongy soil. It even became so bad that Mrs. Weldon was obliged to stop, for she sank deep in the . Hercules, Bat, and Austin, wishing to spare her the unpleasantness more than the fatigue of a passage across this plain, made a litter of bamboos, on which she consented to sit. Her little Jack was placed in her arms, and they endeavored to cross that pestilential in the quickest manner.
The difficulties were great. Acteon held Cousin Benedict firmly. Tom aided Nan, who, without him, would have disappeared several times in some
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