To Sdnga- Tdnga and Back . 139 
fell asleep in the heavy rain, whilst the crew 
gathered under the sail. The gentlemen who 
stay at' home at ease may think damp sheets dan¬ 
gerous, but Malvern had long ago taught me the 
perfect safety of the wettest bivouac, provided that 
the body remains warm. At Fernando Po, as at 
Zanzibar, a drunken sailor after a night in the gutter 
will catch fever, and will probably die. But he 
has exposed himself to the inevitable chill after 
midnight, he is unacclimatized, and both places 
are exceptionally deadly—to say nothing of 
the liquor. The experienced African traveller 
awaking with a chilly skin, swallows a tumbler of 
cold water, and rolls himself in a blanket till he 
perspires ; there is only one alternative. 
Next day I arose at 4 a.m., somewhat cramped 
and stiff, but with nothing that would not yield to 
half a handful of quinine, a cup of coffee well 
“ laced,” a pipe, and a roaring fire. Some country 
people presently came up, and rated us for sleep¬ 
ing in the bush ; we retorted in kind, telling them 
that they should have been more wide-awake. 
Whilst the boat was being baled, I walked to the 
shore, and prospected our day’s work. The forest 
showed a novel feature; flocks of cottony mist- 
clouds curling amongst the trees, like opals scat¬ 
tered upon a bed of emeralds ; a purple haze 
banked up the western horizon, whilst milk-white 
foam drew a delicate line between the deep yellow 
