" Suddenly there was a whirring noise in the distance.
"Duck, duck!" shouted Sir HENRY, now thoroughly aroused. I immediately
did so, ducked right down in fact, for I did not know what might be
coming, and I am a very timid man. At that moment I heard a joint
report from Sir HENRY and COODENT. It gave on the whole a very
favourable view of the situation, and by its light I saw six fine
mallard, four teal and three widgeon come hurtling down, as dead as so
many door-nails, and much heavier on the top of my prostrate body.

When I recovered Sir HENRY was bending over me and pouring brandy down
my throat. COODENT was sitting on the ground binding up his legs. "My
dear old friend," said Sir HENRY, in his kindest tone, "this Yorkshire
is too dangerous. My mind is made up. This very night we all start for
Mariannakookaland. There at least our lives will be safe."

CHAPTER III.

We were in Mariannakookaland. We had been there a month travelling
on, ever on, over the parching wastes, under the scorching African sun
which all but burnt us in our _treks_. Our _Veldt_ slippers were worn
out, and our pace was consequently reduced to the merest _Kraal_. At
rare intervals during our adventurous march, we had seen Stars and
heard of Echoes, but now not a single _Kopje_ was left, and we were
trudging along mournfully with our blistered _tongas_ protruding from
our mouths.

Suddenly Sir HENRY spoke--"SMALLUN, my old friend," he said, "do you
see anything in the distance?"

I looked intently in the direction indicated, but could see nothing
but the horizon. "Look again," said Sir HENRY. I swept the distance
with my glance. It was a sandy, arid distance, and, naturally enough,
a small cloud of dust appeared. Then a strange thing happened. The
cloud grew and grew. It came rolling towards us with an unearthly
noise. Then it seemed to be cleft in two, as by lightning,
and from its centre came marching towards us a mighty army of
Amazonian warriors, in battle-array, chanting the war-song of the
Mariannakookas. I must confess that my first instinct was to fly, my
second to run, my third, and best, to remain rooted to the spot. When
the army came within ten yards of us, it stopped, as if by magic,
and a stout Amazon, of forbidding aspect, who seemed to be the
Commander-in-Chief, advanced to the front. On her head she wore an
immense native jelibag, tricked out with feathers; her breast was
encased in a huge silver _tureene_. Her waist was