the shelter of a gigantic baobab tree.

Two rousing fires were quickly kindled, round which the natives busied
themselves in preparing supper, while their leaders sat down, the one to
write up his journal, the other to smoke his pipe.

"Well, sir," said Disco, after a few puffs delivered with extreme
satisfaction, "you do seem for to enjoy writin'. You go at that log of
yours every night, as if it wos yer last will and testament that ye
couldn't die happy without exikootin' an' signin' it with yer blood."

"A better occupation, isn't it," replied Harold, with a sly glance,
"than to make a chimney-pot of my mouth?"

"Come, sir," returned Disco, with a deprecatory smile, "don't be too
hard on a poor feller's pipe. If you can't enjoy it, that's no argiment
against it."

"How d'you know I can't enjoy it?"

"Why? cos I s'pose you'd take to it if you did."

"Did _you_ enjoy it when you first began?" asked Harold.

"Well, I can't 'zactly say as I did."

"Well, then, if you didn't, that proves that it is not _natural_ to
smoke, and why should I acquire an unnatural and useless habit?"

"Useless! why, sir, on'y think of wot you loses by not smokin'--wot a
deal of enjoyment!"

"Well, I _am_ thinking," replied Harold, affecting a look of profound
thoughtfulness, "but I can't quite make it out--enjoyment? let me see.
Do I not enjoy as good health as you do?"

"O, cer'nly, sir, cer'nly. You're quite up to the mark in that
respect."

"Well then, I enjoy my food as well, and can eat as much, can't I?"

"No doubt of it," replied Disco, with a grin; "I was used to be
considered raither a dab at wittles, but I must say I knocks under to
_you_, sir."

"Very good," rejoined Harold, laughing; "then as to sleep, I enjoy sleep
quite as soundly as yourself; don't I?"

"I can't say as to that," replied Disco. "You see, sir, as I never
opens my eyes arter shuttin' of 'em till the bo's'n pipes all hands
ahoy, I've no means of knowin' wot you accomplish in that way."

"On the whole, then, it seems that I enjoy everything as much as you do,
and--"

"No, not everything; you don't enjoy baccy, you know.--But please, sir,
don't go for to moralise; I can't stand it. You'll spile my pipe if ye
do!"

"Well, I shall spare you," said Harold, "all the more that I perceive
supper is about--"

At that moment Antonio, who had gone down to a streamlet which trickled
close at hand, gave utterance to a hideous yell, and came rushing