ing, slipping, and scrambling from root to root, Cupid
leading the way, I following, and the skipper bringing up the rear,
until at length we stood upon solid ground once more. But by this time
not only had the sun set but the dusk was gathering about us like a
curtain, while star after star came twinkling out from the rapidly
darkening blue overhead, and the foliage of the trees that hemmed us in
on every side was changing, even as we stood and watched while
recovering our breath, from olive to deepest black. Now, too, we were
beset, even more pertinaciously than before, by the myriads of
mosquitoes, sand flies, gnats, and other winged biting creatures with
which the islet swarmed; to say nothing of ants; indeed it almost seemed
as though every individual insect upon that particular patch of soil and
vegetation had scented us out and, having found us, was quite determined
that we should never escape them alive. When presently we again began
to move, it seemed impossible to take a single step without tripping
over a land-crab's hole, or treading upon one of the creatures and
hearing and feeling it crackle and writhe underfoot. Ugh! it was
horrible.

All these unpleasantnesses were sharply accentuated by the darkness,
which fell upon us like a pall; for now the stars began to be obscured
by great black clouds that came sweeping in from seaward, while the
increasing roar and swish in the boughs overhead seemed to indicate that
the wind was freshening. Progress was difficult enough, under such
conditions, while we were traversing solid ground and had no special
need to pick our footsteps; how would it be, I wondered, when it came to
our re-crossing the belt of mangroves and mud that lay between us and
the gig? Then, to add still further to our difficulties, the dank,
heavy, pestilential fog that rises from the tropical African rivers at
nightfall began to gather about us, and in a few minutes, from being
bathed in perspiration from our exertions, we were chilled to the bone,
with our teeth chattering to such an extent that we could scarcely
articulate an intelligible word.

"Plenty too much fever here come," remarked Cupid, while his teeth
clattered together like castanets. "Sar, you lib for carry dem quinine
powder dat dem doctor sarve out dis morning?"

"Certainly, Cupid," jibbered the skipper. "M-m-many thanks for the
hint. M-m-m-mister Fortes--ugh! t-t-take a p-p-pow-ow-der at once."

I did so, and handed