seemed to stand by, indifferent all the while.

In less than a week they left the river, hauling their canoes up on the
bank, and hiding them in the tangle of the virgin underwood. A depot of
provisions, likewise hidden, was duly made, and the long, weary march
began.

The daily routine of this need not be followed, for there were weeks
of long monotony, varied only by a new difficulty, a fresh danger, or
a deplorable accident. Twice the whole company had to lay aside the
baggage and assume arms, when Guy Oscard proved himself to be a cool and
daring leader. Not twice, but two hundred times, the ring of Joseph's
unerring rifle sent some naked savage crawling into the brake to die,
with a sudden wonder in his half-awakened brain. They could not afford
to be merciful; their only safeguard was to pass through this country,
leaving a track of blood and fire and dread behind them.

This, however, is no record of travel in Central Africa. There are many
such to be had at any circulating library, written by abler and more
fantastic pens. Some of us who have wandered in the darkest continent
have looked in vain for things seen by former travellers--things which,
as the saying is, are neither here nor there. Indeed, there is not
much to see in a vast, boundless forest with little life and no
variety--nothing but a deadly monotony of twilit tangle. There is
nothing new under the sun--even immediately under it in Central Africa.
The only novelty is the human heart--Central Man. That is never stale,
and there are depths still unexplored, heights still unattained, warm
rivers of love, cold streams of hatred, and vast plains where strange
motives grow. These are our business.

We have not to deal so much with the finding of the Simiacine as with
the finders, and of these the chief at this time was Jack Meredith. It
seemed quite natural that one duty after another should devolve upon
him, and he invariably had time to do them all, and leisure to comment
pleasantly upon it. But his chief care was Victor Durnovo.

As soon as they entered the forest, two hundred miles above Msala, the
half-breed was a changed man. The strange restlessness asserted itself
again--the man was nervous, eager, sincere. His whole being was given up
to this search; his whole heart and soul were enveloped in it. At
first he worked steadily, like a mariner treading his way through known
waters; but gradually his composure left him, and he became incapable o