captain and his
little child, Glynn Proctor (of course), Dr Hopley, Tim Rokens, Phil
Briant, Jim Scroggles, the trader, and Neepeelootambo, which last had
been by that time regularly domesticated on board, and was now known by
the name of King Bumble, which name, being as good as his own, and more
pronounceable, we shall adopt from this time forward.

The very morning after the proposal was made, the above party embarked
in the trader's canoe; and plying their paddles with the energy of men
bent on what is vulgarly termed "going the whole hog," they quickly
found themselves out of sight of their natural element, the ocean, and
surrounded by the wild, rich, luxuriant vegetation of equatorial Africa.

"Now," remarked Tim Rokens, as they ceased paddling, and ran the canoe
under the shade of a broad palm-tree that overhung the river, in order
to take a short rest and a smoke after a steady paddle of some
miles--"Now this is wot I calls glorious, so it is! Ain't it? Pass the
'baccy this way."

This double remark was made to King Bumble, who passed the tobacco-pouch
to his friend, after helping himself, and admitted that it was
"mugnifercent."

"Here have I bin a-sittin' in this here canoe," continued Rokens, "for
more nor two hours, an' to my sartin knowledge I've seed with my two
eyes twelve sharks (for I counted 'em every one) at the mouth of the
river, and two crocodiles, and the snout of a hopplepittimus; is that
wot ye calls it?"

Rokens addressed his question to the captain, but Phil Briant, who had
just succeeded in getting his pipe to draw beautifully, answered
instead.

"Och! no," said he; "that's not the way to pronounce it at all, at all.
It's a huppi-puppi-puttimus."

"I dun know," said Rokens, shaking his head gravely; "it appears to me
there's too many huppi puppies in that word."

This debate caused Ailie infinite amusement, for she experienced
considerable difficulty herself in pronouncing that name, and had a very
truthful picture of the hippopotamus hanging at that moment in her room
at home.

"Isn't Tim Rokens very funny, papa?" she remarked in a whisper, looking
up in her father's face.

"Hush! my pet, and look yonder. There is something funnier, if I
mistake not."

He pointed, as he spoke, to a ripple in the water on the opposite side
of the river, close under a bank which was clothed with rank,
broad-leaved, and sedgy vegetation. In a few seconds a large crocodile
put up its head, n