een a very grand sight, but a very disagreeable one. As I retreated
through the wood the treacherous honey-bird flew out also, twittering as
before, just as if he had not played me a scurvy trick. "What, do you
not like the last honeycomb I showed you?" he seemed to say. I began to
think that he was an evil spirit instead of a kind fairy; but yet,
perhaps, after all, he was as much astonished at finding a lion instead
of a honeycomb as I was. At all events, he appeared regardless of the
danger into which he had led me, and not aware that I might have shot
him dead in a moment. I could not at the time account for the trick he
had played me; but I have since heard that such is not at all an
uncommon occurrence, and that honey-birds frequently take the natives
who are in pursuit of honey in the same way up to some savage monster.

Having got to a considerable distance from the wood, I ventured to turn
round and walk forwards, at the same time very frequently casting
anxious glances over my shoulder to ascertain whether the lion was
coming in pursuit of me. In vain the honey-bird tried to draw me off on
one side. I declined after this accompanying my little friend any
further.

I had taken the bearings of the baobab-tree grove, so that I could
easily find it. When at length I reached it Natty was in a state of
great agitation at my long absence, but was delighted with the delicious
honey I had brought him.

"Perhaps the honey-birds want to have the wild beasts killed, and are
not aware that when people are only in search of honey they are not
prepared to encounter a lion or a rhinoceros," he remarked, when I
described my adventure.

He might have been incredulous about my account, but I showed him the
honey-bird, which had perched on a branch near us; and, as soon as I
took out the honey, down it came and ate some of it with the greatest
confidence. I then felt convinced, from his unsuspicious behaviour,
that he had had no intention of leading me into danger.

We immediately ate some of the honey spread on the mushrooms. I wished
that I could find some means of stewing those curious productions of
nature, for they would he, I was sure, a valuable addition to our fare.
Poor Natty still continued very weak. I did my best to forage for him,
but, in spite of my exertions, the only food I could procure was not
satisfactory for a sick person. As to leaving him, the more I thought
of it the more dangerous for him