ly after mine, I had not the heart to do it.
"No!" said I (and I said it aloud for the purpose of preventing
drowsiness)--"no; I will fight this battle alone! I will repeat some
stanzas from my favourite authors. Yes, I will try to remember a
portion of `A Midsummer-Night's Dream.' It will be somewhat appropriate
to my present circumstances."

Big with this resolve, I sat down with my face to the fire and my back
to the palm-tree, and--fell sound asleep instantly!

How long I lay in this condition I know not, but I was suddenly awakened
by a yell so appalling that my heart leaped as if into my throat, and my
nerves thrilled with horror. For one instant I was paralysed; then my
blood seemed to rebound on its course. I sprang up and attempted to
seize my rifle.

The reader may judge of my state of mind when I observed that it was
gone! I leaped towards the fire, and grasping a lighted brand, turned
round and glared into the woods in the direction whence the yell came.

It was grey dawn, and I could see things pretty distinctly; but the only
living object that met my gaze was Peterkin, who stood with my rifle in
his hand laughing heartily!

I immediately turned to look at Jack, who was sitting up in the spot
where he had passed the night, with a sleepy smile on his countenance.

"Why, what's the meaning of this?" I inquired.

"The meaning of it?" cried Peterkin, as he advanced and restored the
rifle to its place. "A pretty fellow you are to mount guard! we might
have been all murdered in our sleep by niggers or eaten alive by
gorillas, for all that you would have done to save us."

"But, Peterkin," said I gravely, "you ought not to have startled me so;
you gave me a terrible fright. People have been driven mad before now,
I assure you, by practical jokes."

"My dear fellow," cried Peterkin, with much earnestness, "I know that as
well as you. But, in the first place, you were guilty of so heinous a
crime that I determined to punish you, and at the same time to do it in
a way that would impress it forcibly on your memory; and in the second
place, I would not have done it at all had I not known that your nerves
are as strong as those of a dray-horse. You ought to be taking shame to
yourself on account of your fault rather than objecting to your
punishment."

"Peterkin is right, my boy," said Jack, laughing, "though I must say he
had need be sure of the nerves of any one to whom he intends to
administer