andi say to
this evil that you do?"

There was no reply, only a snuffling sound of woe.

"Oh, ai!" sobbed the voice.

"M'lama, presently we shall come to the Mission house where the God-men
are, and I will bring you clothing--these you will put on you," said
Bones, still staring blankly over the side of the ship at the waters
which foamed past her low hull; "for if my lord Sandi see you as I see
you--I mean as I wouldn't for the world see you, you improper person,"
he corrected himself hastily in English--"if my lord Sandi saw you, he
would feel great shame. Also," he added, as a horrible thought made him
go cold all over, "also the lady who comes to my lord Militini--oh,
lor!"

These last two words were in English.

Fortunately there was a Jesuit settlement near by, and here Bones
stopped and interviewed the stout and genial priest in charge.

"It's curious how they all do it," reflected the priest, as he led the
way to his storehouse. "I've known 'em to tear up their clothes in an
East End police cell--white folk, the same as you and I."

He rummaged in a big box and produced certain garments.

"My last consignment from a well-meaning London congregation," he
smiled, and flung out a heap of dresses, hats, stockings and shoes. "If
they'd sent a roll or two of print I might have used them--but strong
religious convictions do not entirely harmonize with a last year's Paris
model."

Bones, flushed and unhappy, grabbed an armful of clothing, and showering
the chuckling priest with an incoherent medley of apology and thanks,
hurried back to the _Zaire_.

"Behold, M'lama," he said, as he thrust his loot through the window of
the little deck-house, "there are many grand things such as great ladies
wear--now you shall appear before Sandi beautiful to see."

He logged the happening in characteristic language, and was in the midst
of this literary exercise when the tiny steamer charged a sandbank, and
before her engines could slow or reverse she had slid to the top and
rested in two feet of water.

A rueful Bones surveyed the situation and returned to his cabin to
conclude his diary with--

"12.19 struck a reef off B'lidi Bay. Fear vessel total wreck. Boats
all ready for lowering."

As a matter of fact there were neither boats to lower nor need to lower
them, because the crew were already standing in the river (up to their
hips) and were endeavouring to push the _Zaire_ to deep water.

In this they