as she looked full at the soldier and held out her hand, "I thank
you for my life."

The rest of the party were standing by the elephant. Hughes clasped the
long taper fingers, and looked into the black eyes, from which the tears
were falling. For a moment they met the gaze, and then fell before his
as he kissed the little hand held out to him.

"Your ball has shivered his head, Hughes," called out Wyzinski, but the
soldier paused a moment to thrust into his bosom a blood-stained
pocket-handkerchief before he joined them.

The second ball, a heavy conical one, had penetrated the skull before
bursting, making a frightful hole, and blowing the head to pieces; a
second severe wound, behind the shoulder, showing where the first had
struck.

The elephant was a very large one, and was the only one out of the seven
secured.

"And now, gentlemen, let us leave the cutting up to the natives. You
can scarcely refuse my late request now, after what has passed, if it is
only that Dona Isabel needs rest."

"If we comply I must make a condition, namely, that you send a messenger
to Quillimane, to warn Captain Weber of the delay, and it must not be
for more than twenty-four hours."

"Agreed, and now for the boats and my house at Nyangue," cheerfully
exclaimed Assevedo.

"Senhor Inglesi, I thank you most heartily and sincerely," said the old
noble, taking off his hat, bowing, and grasping the soldier's hand
warmly in his own. "You have earned our eternal gratitude at the peril
of your life."

"Don't you think a light infantry movement and a timely retreat would be
a brilliant evolution?" whispered the missionary, as he passed Hughes.
"I don't mind backing the flavour of the water-melons of Portugal
against the custard-apples of India."

"Nonsense. Just mind your own business," replied Hughes, as he picked
up the discharged rifle, shouldered it, and joined the party on the
Shire's bank.

Volume 2, Chapter II.

THE "HALCYON."

The coast of Africa, as seen from the sea, is never very prepossessing;
and the sandy spit of land, with the equally sandy bar, which obstructs
the entrance to the Zambesi at Quillimane, is no exception to the rule,
while the banks of the river are low and flat, dotted here and there
with tall cocoa-palms, and haunted by alligators. The town itself, or
rather village, for it can hardly boast of any more sounding name,
consists of a few better-class houses, one of which was owned by Dom
Asse