no place on which to sleep at night, but must stay
in the canoe tormented by mosquitoes, and in constant danger of being
upset by the hippopotami that lived there. Moreover, as no game was now
available, they were obliged to live on these beasts, fish when they
could catch them, and wildfowl, which sometimes they were unable to cook
for lack of fuel. This did not trouble the Ogula, who ate them raw, as
did Jeekie when he was hungry. But Alan was obliged to starve until they
could make a fire. This it was only possible to do when they found drift
or other wood, since at that season the rank vegetation was in full
growth. Also the fearful thunderstorms which broke continually and in a
few minutes half filled their canoe with water, made the reeds and the
soil on which they grew, sodden with wet. As Jeekie said:

"This time of year only fit for duck and crocodile. Human should
remember uncontrollable forces of nature and wait till winter come in
due course, when quagmire bear sole of his foot."

This elaborate remark he made to Alan during the progress of a
particularly fearful tempest. The lightning blazed in the black sky
and seemed to strike all about them like stabbing swords of fire, the
thunder crashed and bellowed as it may be supposed that it will do on
that day when the great earth, worn out at last, shall reel and stagger
to its doom. The rain fell in a straight and solid sheet; the tall reeds
waved confusedly like millions of dim arms and while they waved, uttered
a vast and groaning noise; the scared wildfowl in their terror, with
screams and the sough of wings, rushed past them in flocks a thousand
strong, now seen and now lost in the vapours. To keep their canoe afloat
the poor, naked Ogula oarsmen, shivering with cold and fear, baled
furiously with their hands, or bowls of hollowed wood, and called back
to Alan to save them as though he were the master of the elements. Even
Jeekie was depressed and appeared to be offering up petitions, though
whether these were directed to Little Bonsa or elsewhere it was
impossible to know.

As for Alan, the heart was out of him. It is true that so far he had
escaped fever or other sickness, which in itself was wonderful, but he
was chilled through and through and practically had eaten nothing for
two days, and very little for a week, since his stomach turned from
half-cooked hippopotamus fat and wildfowl. Moreover, they had lost the
channel and seemed to be wandering ai