126 TRUE BEAR STORIES. 



distance behind us still. It was a hot night 

 and the mosquitoes were terrible in the 

 woods, but I doubt if they bite the blacks 

 as they did me. Surely not, else they would 

 not be even as nearly alive as they are. 



Having got them across the lagoon, I 

 gave them each 25 cents more, and this 

 made them want to go home. The dogs had 

 all sat down in a queer row on the foot-log. 

 Such languor, such laziness, such idiotic 

 helplessness I never saw before, even on 

 the Nile. The blacks, as well as the dogs, 

 seemed to be afraid to move now. The 

 preacher again began to mumble a prayer, 

 and the whole pack with him; and then 

 they prayed again, this time not so loudly. 

 And although there was melody of a sort 

 in their united voices, I am certain they 

 used no words, at least no words of any 

 real language. 



Suddenly the dogs got up and came 

 across and hid among the men, and the 

 men huddled up close; for right there on 

 the other end of the log, with his broad 



