ny
creatures think they find it advantageous to pretend to be what they are
not. Man himself is not quite free from this characteristic. Indeed,
you have a little of it yourself," said the hermit with one of his
twinkling glances. "When you are almost terrified out of your wits
don't you pretend that there's nothing the matter with you?"

"Nebber, massa, nebber!" answered the negro with remonstrative gravity.
"When I's nigh out ob my wits, so's my innards feels like nuffin' but
warmish water, I gits whitey-grey in de chops, so I's told, an' blue in
de lips, an' I _pretends_ nuffin'--I don't care _who_ sees it!"

The track for some distance beyond this point became worse and worse.
Then the nature of the ground changed somewhat--became more hilly, and
the path, if such it could be styled, more rugged in some places, more
swampy in others, while, to add to their discomfort, rain began to fall,
and night set in dark and dismal without any sign of the village of
which they were in search. By that time the porters who carried
Verkimier's boxes seemed so tired that the hermit thought it advisable
to encamp, but the ground was so wet and the leeches were so numerous
that they begged him to go on, assuring him that the village could not
be far distant. In another half-hour the darkness became intense, so
that a man could scarcely see his fellow, even when within two paces of
him. Ominous mutterings and rumblings like distant thunder also were
heard, which appeared to indicate an approaching storm. In these
circumstances encamping became unavoidable, and the order was given to
make a huge fire to scare away the tigers, which were known to be
numerous, and the elephants whose fresh tracks had been crossed and
followed during the greater part of the day. The track of a rhinoceros
and a tapir had also been seen, but no danger was to be anticipated from
those creatures.

"Shall we have a stormy night, think you?" asked Nigel, as he assisted
in striking a light.

"It may be so," replied the hermit, flinging down one after another of
his wet matches, which failed to kindle. "What we hear may be distant
thunder, but I doubt it. The sounds seem to me more like the mutterings
of a volcano. Some new crater may have burst forth in the Sumatran
ranges. This thick darkness inclines me to think so--especially after
the new activity of volcanic action we have seen so recently at
Krakatoa. Let me try your matches, Nigel, perhap