few minutes the whole
herd was got over in safety.

Half-an-hour later and our travellers were seated in the chief's house
regaling themselves with beef-steaks and marrow-bones, chickens and
rice.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

A FRIEND APPEARS UNEXPECTEDLY, AND OUR TRAVELLERS SPEND A DISTURBED
NIGHT.

Whatever ethereal persons may say to the contrary, there can be no doubt
whatever that the consumption of food is an intellectual treat, inasmuch
as it sets the body free from the cravings of appetite, and by
stimulating those nervous influences which convey vigour and vitality to
the brain, not only becomes the direct cause of physical gratification,
but induces that state of mind which is most favourable to the
development of the interesting creations of fancy and the brilliant
coruscations of imagination.

We might pursue this subject further did time and space permit; but our
objection to "skipping" is so great, that we shrink from giving the
reader even a shadow of excuse for doing so. Moreover we dread the
assault of the hypercritical reader, who will infallibly object that it
is not "the consumption of food," but the resulting mental effect which
is the "intellectual treat." As if we did not know that! "But," we
would retort with scorn, "can any cause be separated from its effect
without bringing about, so to speak, the condition of nonentity?"

Passing to the subject which gave rise to these erratic thoughts, we
have to relate that the whole party, entertainers and entertained, did
ample justice to the rice, beef, chicken and marrow-bones, after which
Hockins wafted the natives to the seventh heaven of delight and wonder
by means of his flageolet. It was very late that night before they
retired to rest. It was later still before they went to sleep.

The native village at which our travellers had arrived was a rude,
poor-looking place, inhabited by a brave and war-like tribe, who
depended more for defence on their personal prowess and the difficulties
presented by their forests, than upon ditches or ramparts. The village
was, however, surrounded by a fence of trees growing so close together
that it would have been almost impossible to carry the place by assault
if resolutely defended from within.

The huts were roughly constructed of bamboos plastered with clay and
lined with matting,--also with the large leaves of the "traveller's
tree," and thatched with rushes.

The chief's hut, in which the white guest