into which he could climb and put himself
out of reach of prowling leopards; then the remembrance of his late
narrow escape recalled the fact that there were dangers in the branches
as horrible as any on the ground; and while he hesitated, it seemed as
if the question were to be decided for him, for suddenly upon his ears
came the gallop of horse's hoofs, and an armed band bore down upon him.

For a moment Major Denham thought all was over, for he was past further
flight and had no weapon. Then, as one of the new-comers dashed up to
him, he recognised, with relief and thanks, the negro servant of the
Sultan's chief officer. They were his friends, flying in disorder
indeed, but mounted and armed, and able, in some sort, to protect their
guest. There was no time to be lost. The Englishman, draped in classical
fashion in an exceedingly dirty blanket, was helped on to the
bare-backed horse ridden by the negro, and the flight continued with all
possible speed. It was a terrible journey, with constantly diminishing
numbers, for men and horses, wounded by poisoned arrows, dropped and
died on the way.

Denham learned later on that a consultation was held over him, while he
lay sleeping from sheer exhaustion during a short halt, in which some of
the party urged that it was folly to hamper the flight by the burden of
a man who would probably die. One man, however, spoke up stoutly for the
unconscious foreigner, vowing that one who had been preserved through so
much must be fated to be saved. To him Major Denham owed it that, after
infinite danger, pain and fatigue, he arrived, with the remnants of the
army, at Kouka, and lived to set foot again, two years later, on English
shores, there to delight the stay-at-homes with such a traveller's tale
as has rarely been equalled, even from the mysterious land of the 'ever
new.'

SANTA CLAUS'S POSTMAN.

'Twas Santa Claus's Postman!
I heard him singing low
Among the trees beyond the hill,
And through the valley dark and still,
Where frozen rushes grow.
And cosy 'neath my counterpane
I listened as he sang,
While miles, and miles, and miles away
I heard him cross the marshes grey,
Till close to where I snugly lay,
His changing carol sang.
I heard him slam the garden gate
As o'er the lawn he crossed,
Till, half in fright, I raised my head
To hear how through the grove he sped;
Then far away, and farther still,
By vale and wood a