VICISSITUDES 
day made a most welcome addition to our larder, as 
they are delicious eating. 
From a scientific point of view we did not gain 
much by our expedition to the St. Joseph River. 
Every day the skies were leaden, and during the 
whole time of our stay we saw no sun. Butterflies 
were scarcely more plentiful than they had been at 
Dinawa, and once, after a whole morning’s work, 
Harry had only secured two—fine specimens, no 
doubt, but even at that an insufficient reward for the 
time spent. Every night we kept the lamp going, 
but the moths were very scarce, although our camp 
was in the heart of the forest. 
Our life at St. Joseph River, however, was not to 
be all tranquillity. Once we had an alarm which 
fortunately degenerated into an incident of pure 
comedy, although it might have been very serious. 
At nightfall, one evening, a native boy, who had gone 
out shooting, had not returned, and we began to 
grow very anxious about him. At eight o'clock, how- 
ever, he came into camp in a state of considerable 
agitation and bringing a strange tale of a pig. He had 
shot a tusker with No. 9 shot, but had only wounded 
it, and the animal charged him, whereupon he had 
thrown away his gun and run up a tree. Then the 
pig sat down over against him and laid siege to him, 
and our poor friend abode in the tree for several hours. 
Finally, however, the pig’s wound, which was over his 
eye, so blinded him with blood that he raised the siege 
in disgust and made off to his fastnesses. 
As time went on the rumours of war increased, 
and one day three natives came in from the village of 
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