the sunlight showed stronger through the dense roof of
foliage. The cassava cakes were tainted with must, and they had no water,
but the increasing light made them forget everything but the freedom that
was opening before them.

Adams pointed to the empty calabash which their guide carried, and the
collector nodded and pointed before them, as if to imply that soon they
would come to water and that all would be well.

Now, as they resumed their way, the trees altered and drew farther apart,
the ground was solid under foot, and through the foliage of the euphorbia
and raphia palm came stray glimmers of sunshine, bits of blue sky, birds,
voices, and the whisper of a breeze.

"This is better," said Berselius.

Adams flung up his head and expanded his nostrils.

"Better, my God!" said he; "this is heaven!"

It was heaven, indeed, after that hell of gloom; that bog roofed in with
leaves, the very smell of which clings to one for ever like the memory of
a fever dream.

All at once patches of sunlight appeared in front as well as above. They
quickened their pace, the trees drew apart, and, suddenly, with theatrical
effect, a park-like sward of land lay before them leading to a sheet of
blue water reflecting tall feather-palms and waving speargrass, all domed
over with blue, and burning in the bright, bright sunshine.

"The Silent Pools!" cried Adams. "The very place where I saw the leopard
chasing the antelope! Great Scott!--Hi! hi! hi! you there!--where are you
going?"

The collector had raced down to the water's edge; he knew the dangers of
the place, for he divided the grass, filled his calabash with water, and
dashed back before anything could seize him. Then, without drinking, he
came running with the calabash to the white men.

Adams handed the calabash first to his companion.

Berselius drank and then wiped his forehead; he seemed disturbed in his
mind and had a dazed look.

He had never come so far along the edge of the pools as this, but there
was something in the configuration of the place that stirred his sleeping
memory.

"What is it?" asked Adams.

"I don't know," replied Berselius. "I have dreamt--I have seen--I remember
something--somewhere--"

Adams laughed.

"I know," said he; "you come along, and in a few minutes you will see
something that will help your memory. Why, man, we camped near here, you
and I and Meeus; when you see the spot you'll find yourself on your road
again. Come, let's m