soon become navigable, or that it would before long reach a more
important river, tributary to the Atlantic.

Cost what it might, the young novice was determined to follow this
stream of water. Neither did he hesitate to abandon this opening;
because, as ending by an oblique line, it led away from the rivulet.

The little party a second time ventured through the dense underwood.
They marched, ax in hand, through leaves and bushes inextricably
interlaced.

But if this vegetation obstructed the ground, they were no longer in
the thick forest that bordered the coast. Trees became rare. Large
sheaves of bamboo alone rose above the grass, and so high that even
Hercules was not a head over them. The passage of the little party was
only revealed by the movement of these stalks.

Toward three o'clock in the afternoon of that day, the nature of the
ground totally changed. Here were long plains, which must have been
entirely inundated in the rainy season. The earth, now more swampy,
was carpeted by thick mosses, beneath charming ferns. Should it be
diversified by any steep ascents, they would see brown hematites
appear, the last deposits of some rich vein of mineral.

Dick Sand then recalled--and very fortunately--what he had read in
"Livingstone's Travels." More than once the daring doctor had nearly
rested in these marshes, so treacherous under foot.

"Listen to me, my friends," said he, going ahead. "Try the ground
before stepping on it."

"In fact," replied Tom, "they say that these grounds have been
softened by the rain; but, however, it has not rained during these
last days."

"No," replied Bat; "but the storm is not far off."

"The greater reason," replied Dick Sand, "why we should hurry and get
clear of this swamp before it commences. Hercules, take little Jack
in your arms. Bat, Austin, keep near Mrs. Weldon, so as to be able to
help her if necessary. You, Mr. Benedict--Why, what are you doing,
Mr. Benedict?"

"I am falling!" innocently replied Cousin Benedict, who had just
disappeared as if a trap had been suddenly opened beneath his feet.

In fact, the poor man had ventured on a sort of quagmire, and had
disappeared half-way in the sticky mud. They stretched out their
hands, and he rose, covered with slime, but quite satisfied at not
having injured his precious entomologist's box. Acteon went beside
him, and made it his duty to preserve the unlucky, near-sighted man
from any new disasters.

Besides, Co