o her bosom.

I would not have missed that sight for the world. I know not very well
what my thoughts were at the time, but the memory of that scene has
often since, in my musings, filled me with inexpressible gladness; and
in pondering the subject, I have felt that the witnessing of that
meeting has given additional force to the line in Scripture wherein the
word "love" alone is deemed sufficiently comprehensive to describe the
whole character of the Almighty.

Here, on the one hand, I beheld unutterable, indescribable woe; on the
other hand, unutterable, inconceivable joy--both, I should suppose, in
their extremest degree, and both resulting from pure and simple _love_.
I pondered this much at the time; I have pondered it often since. It is
a subject of study which I recommend to all who chance to read this
page.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

I HAVE A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER AND A NARROW ESCAPE.

The happiness that now beamed in the faces of Makarooroo, Okandaga, and
Njamie was a sufficient reward to us for all the trouble we had taken
and all the risk we had run on their account. Poor Njamie was
exceedingly grateful to us. She sought by every means in her power to
show this, and among other things, hearing us call her son by the name
of Puggy, she at once adopted it, to the immense amusement and delight
of Peterkin.

After the first excitement of our meeting had subsided somewhat, we
consulted together as to what we should now do. On the one hand, we
were unwilling to quit the scene of our hunting triumphs and adventures;
on the other hand, Makarooroo and his bride were anxious to reach the
mission stations on the coast and get married in the Christian manner.

"Our opposing interests are indeed a little perplexing," said Jack,
after some conversation had passed on the subject.--"No doubt, Mak, you
and Mbango with his friends might reach the coast safely enough without
us; but then what should we do without an interpreter?"

Our poor guide, whose troubles seemed as though they would never end,
sighed deeply and glanced at his bride with a melancholy countenance as
he replied--

"Me'll go wid you, massa, an' Okandaga'll go to coast an' wait dere for
me come."

"Ha!" ejaculated Peterkin, "that's all very well, Mak, but you'll do
nothing of the sort. That plan won't do, so we'll have to try again."

"I agree with you, Peterkin," observed Jack. "That plan certainly will
not do; but I cannot think of any oth