A STARTLING VISIT. 



RUSTLING IN THE GRASS. 



The conversation around the camp 

 fires did not last long, for our friends 

 had learned the wisdom of regularity 

 in their habits. It was quite early 

 when Mr. Godkin and Bob Marshall 

 stretched themselves out in one of the 



wagons and sank into the deep, restful slumber which always waits on 

 health. The Americans made it a rule to slumber in the wagons, where 

 they felt safer, but the natives preferred to lie on their blankets on the earth, 

 sometimes dispensing with the covering altogether. 



Two hours, therefore, before midnight, Dick Brownell, with his Winchester over 

 his shoulder, was pacing back and forth near the animals and wagons, and within 

 the circle of light thrown out by the camp fires. Pongo and Diedrick sat a short 

 distance off, smoking their pipes and occasionally talking in low tones. They did 

 not feel it necessary to keep in motion to preserve their wakefulness, and probably it 

 was not always needed in the case of the Americans. Some nights before, however, 

 Bob Marshall, while standing guard, had sat down for a few minutes, fallen asleep 

 and endangered the safety of all, for the native assistants, supposing him to be 

 awake, left a part of the duty to him. After that, it was understood that the practice of 

 sentinels elsewhere, and of the watch on board ship, would be strictly followed. 



Everything went well until near midnight. The servants, stretched upon the 

 ground, were asleep, and there could be no doubt of the unconsciousness of the 

 Americans in the wagons. The animals were equally oblivious to their surround- 

 ings, and the glance which Dick cast in the direction of the Bushman and Hotten- 

 tot caused a suspicion that they were also taking an excursion into the land oi 

 dreams. 



He walked over to where he had heard the murmur of their voices. 



"Just as I suspected," he said witb a smile; "the camp, therefore, is under my 



