over
him, and soon their sharp bites have the effect of bringing him back to
himself again. But on the whole the infliction is salutary, for it acts
as a spur; and, staggering to his feet in quick loathing, the fugitive
shakes off the horrible insects, and drags on his weary way.

The solitude is intense, but not so the silence. The call of bird
voices echoes through the shade; some shrill and piping and not
unmelodious, others harsh, half human, almost menacing; the screech of
cicalas too, loud, vibrant, distressing to overwrought and weakened
nerves. Green lizards of some size dart scramblingly through the
scattered bark or lie motionless, with head erect, and ruby-like eyes
dilated, as they watch the intruder; and a great tree spider, huge,
hairy, and hideous, shoggles up a trunk within a yard and a half of the
wanderer's face.

And now hunger is gripping the unfortunate man; thirst, too, which the
slimy swamp water he has drunk--though, in prudence, sparingly--has not
availed to stave off for long. The day is waning, moreover, and well he
knows that another night spent in the forest spells death. And still no
sign of human habitation or friendly succour; yet how should there be,
seeing that the red scourge of the slave-hunter, or of warring barbarian
clans, equally ruthless, has swept this zone of terror and of blood,
leaving it a howling waste of uninhabited wilderness. Or even were
things otherwise, why should those he half hoped to meet prove any more
desirable than those from whom he fled, here in the dark places of the
earth, where anything in human shape, any fellow creature, was almost
synonymous with a cruel and ruthless enemy? But the enduring courage,
the bulldog tenacity of purpose, which characterise the true explorer or
up-country adventurer, whatever his nationality, is to this man an ever
present force. The traditions of his order that no hardship, no peril,
however great, however hopeless, is without abundant precedent, are with
him now, to steady his staggering steps as he plunges forward, to uphold
and cheer his despairing mind.

There is light ahead; a break in the skies. Only another tract of open
swamp, is the first thought of the fugitive; and yet with it a sort of
instinct--hardly more, although the creation of experience--warns him,
tells him, that human habitation lies at hand. With renewed strength
and quickened steps he presses forward to the edge of the forest line
and peers