whales and monkeys;" and then, dropping her head on the leopard-skins
with a deep sigh of comfort, she returned to the land of Nod.

Glynn Proctor worked so well that it was still early in the morning and
quite dark when he arrived at the encampment where they had been made
prisoners. His heart beat audibly as he approached the dark
landing-place, and observed no sign of his comrades. The moment the bow
of the canoe touched the shore, he sprang over the side, and, without
disturbing the little sleeper, drew it gently up the bank, and fastened
the bow-rope to a tree; then he hurried to the spot where they had slept
and found all the fires out except one, of which a few dull embers still
remained; but no comrade was visible.

It is a felicitous arrangement of our organs of sense, that where one
organ fails to convey to our inward man information regarding the
outward world, another often steps in to supply its place, and perform
the needful duty. We have said that Glynn Proctor saw nothing of his
comrades,--although he gazed earnestly all round the camp--for the very
good reason that it was almost pitch-dark; but although his eyes were
useless, his ears were uncommonly acute, and through their
instrumentality he became cognisant of a sound. It might have been
distant thunder, but was too continuous and regular for that. It might
have been the distant rumbling of heavy wagons or artillery over a paved
road; but there were neither wagons nor roads in those African wilds.
It might have been the prolonged choking of an alligator--it might, in
fact, have been _anything_ in a region like that, where _everything_,
almost, was curious, and new, and strange, and wild, and unaccountable;
and the listener was beginning to entertain the most uncomfortable ideas
of what it probably was, when a gasp and a peculiar snort apprised him
that it was a human snore!--at least, if not a human snore, it was that
of some living creature which indulged to a very extravagant degree in
that curious and altogether objectionable practice.

Stepping cautiously forward on tip-toe, Glynn searched among the leaves
all round the fire, following the direction of the sounds, but nothing
was to be found; and he experienced a slight feeling of supernatural
dread creeping over him, when a peculiarly loud metallic snore sounded
clear above his head. Looking up, he beheld by the dull red light of
the almost extinct fire, the form of Phil Briant, half-seat