without
her baby, and yet she remained clothed long past her usual hour for
retiring, and her blankets were neatly rolled and bound with stout
cord, when about midnight there came a stealthy scratching upon the
panels of her door.

Swiftly she crossed the room and drew the bolt. Softly the door swung
open to admit the muffled figure of the Swede. On one arm he carried
a bundle, evidently his blankets. His other hand was raised in a
gesture commanding silence, a grimy forefinger upon his lips.

He came quite close to her.

"Carry this," he said. "Do not make some noise when you see it. It
ban you kid."

Quick hands snatched the bundle from the cook, and hungry mother arms
folded the sleeping infant to her breast, while hot tears of joy ran
down her cheeks and her whole frame shook with the emotion of the
moment.

"Come!" said Anderssen. "We got no time to vaste."

He snatched up her bundle of blankets, and outside the cabin door his
own as well. Then he led her to the ship's side, steadied her descent
of the monkey-ladder, holding the child for her as she climbed to the
waiting boat below. A moment later he had cut the rope that held the
small boat to the steamer's side, and, bending silently to the muffled
oars, was pulling toward the black shadows up the Ugambi River.

Anderssen rowed on as though quite sure of his ground, and when after
half an hour the moon broke through the clouds there was revealed upon
their left the mouth of a tributary running into the Ugambi. Up this
narrow channel the Swede turned the prow of the small boat.

Jane Clayton wondered if the man knew where he was bound. She did not
know that in his capacity as cook he had that day been rowed up this
very stream to a little village where he had bartered with the natives
for such provisions as they had for sale, and that he had there
arranged the details of his plan for the adventure upon which they were
now setting forth.

Even though the moon was full, the surface of the small river was quite
dark. The giant trees overhung its narrow banks, meeting in a great
arch above the centre of the river. Spanish moss dropped from the
gracefully bending limbs, and enormous creepers clambered in riotous
profusion from the ground to the loftiest branch, falling in curving
loops almost to the water's placid breast.

Now and then the river's surface would be suddenly broken ahead of them
by a huge crocodile, startled by the splashing