echo through the forest and
rain to fall in big drops. In short, although Stephen remarked that
every cloud has a silver lining, a proverb which, as I told him, I
seemed to have heard before, in no sense could the outlook be considered
bright.

"Well, Allan, what have you arranged?" asked Brother John, with a faint
attempt at cheerfulness as he let go of his wife's hand. In those days
he always seemed to be holding his wife's hand.

"Oh!" I answered, "I am going to get the canoe so that we can all row
over comfortably."

They stared at me, and Miss Hope, who was seated by Stephen, asked in
her usual Biblical language:

"Have you the wings of a dove that you can fly, O Mr. Allan?"

"No," I answered, "but I have the fins of a fish, or something like
them, and I can swim."

Now there arose a chorus of expostulation.

"You shan't risk it," said Stephen, "I can swim as well as you and I'm
younger. I'll go, I want a bath."

"That you will have, O Stephen," interrupted Miss Hope, as I thought in
some alarm. "The latter rain from heaven will make you clean." (By now
it was pouring.)

"Yes, Stephen, you can swim," I said, "but you will forgive me for
saying that you are not particularly deadly with a rifle, and clean
shooting may be the essence of this business. Now listen to me, all of
you. I am going. I hope that I shall succeed, but if I fail it does not
so very much matter, for you will be no worse off than you were before.
There are three pairs of you. John and his wife; Stephen and Miss Hope;
Mavovo and Hans. If the odd man of the party comes to grief, you will
have to choose a new captain, that is all, but while I lead I mean to be
obeyed."

Then Mavovo, to whom Hans had been talking, spoke.

"My father Macumazana is a brave man. If he lives he will have done his
duty. If he dies he will have done his duty still better, and, on the
earth or in the under-world among the spirits of our fathers, his name
shall be great for ever; yes, his name shall be a song."

When Brother John had translated these words, which I thought fine,
there was silence.

"Now," I said, "come with me to the water's edge, all of you. You will
be in less danger from the lightning there, where are no tall trees.
And while I am gone, do you ladies dress up Hans in that gorilla-skin
as best you can, lacing it on to him with some of that palm-fibre string
which we brought with us, and filling out the hollows and the head with
leaves or r