m Messrs. ----.[12]

[12]
Messrs. Who? Printers in a hurry.--PUBLISHER.

Suppressed the name. Messrs. ---- gave an impolite response to
our suggestions as to mutual arrangements.--ED.

Being acquainted with the deleterious effects of a malarious tropical
atmosphere, we secured a pair of overalls, advertised as sovran for
'all-overishness,' the dreaded curse of an African climate. These we
got at the celebrated emporium of Messrs. ----.[13]

[13]
Name suppressed. When eligible opportunity for advertisement
as a substitute for a cheque was hinted at, Messrs. ----
brusquely replied, in the low Essex _patois_, 'Wadyermean?'

Our preparations being now exhaustively completed, Leonora and I
returned to Oxford, packed our things, and consulted as to the route
which we should adopt.

CHAPTER V.

DOWN THE DARK RIVER.

Down the Dark River, the mystic Isis, so Leonora had decided, we sped:
Ustani plying the long pole of the dhow, or native flat-bottomed boat,
while we took it in turns to keep him up to his work by flicking him
with a tandem-whip.

The moon went slowly down, and it occurred to Leonora to remark that we
were 'going down' too, an unusual thing so early in term. Like some
sweet bride into her chamber the moon departed, and the quivering
footsteps of the Don[14] shook the planets from their places, to the
consternation of the Savilian Professor of Astronomy, who, as in duty
bound, was contemplating these revolutionary performances from the
observatory in the Parks. A number of moral ideas occurred to Leonora
and myself, but out of regard for Ustani's feelings we denied them
expression. I began, indeed, to utter a few appropriate sentiments, but
the poor Boshman exclaimed, 'You floggee, floggee, Missy, or preachee,
preachee, but no _both_ floggee and preachee--' in a tone that would
have disarmed a Bampton lecturer.

[14]
Do you mean the Dawn?--PUBLISHER.

Every Oxford man knows what I mean.--ED.

Down we drifted, ever downwards, obedient to the inscrutable laws of
the equilibrium of fluids. Now we swept past the White Willow, now
through the cruel crawling waters of the Gut, now threaded the
calamitous gorge of Iffley, and then shot the perilous cataract of
Sandford.

At this moment, just when the dhow was yet quivering with the strain, I
noticed an expression of abject fear on the face of Ustani. His dark
countenance was posi