There Was No Longer The
Dismal Grass Jungle In Which A Man Was As Much Lost As A Rabbit In
A
field of corn, but beautiful park-like glades of rich and tender grass,
like an English meadow, stretched before
Us in the pale moonlight,
darkened in many places by the shadows of isolated trees and clumps of
forest. Continuing along this agreeable route, we suddenly arrived at a
spot where numerous well-beaten paths branched into all directions. This
was extreme confusion. We had left the direct route to Foweera when we
had made the detour to avoid the M'was' camp. I knew that, as we had
then turned to the north, our course should now be due east. There was a
path leading in that direction; but just as we were quietly deliberating
upon the most advisable course, we heard distant voices. Any voice in
this neighbourhood I concluded must be that of an enemy, therefore I
ordered my people to sit down, while two men concealed themselves on the
borders of a jungle, about a hundred yards distant, as sentries.
I then sent Bacheeta and one of the guides towards the spot from which
the sound of voices had proceeded, to listen to their language, and to
report whether they were M'was, or people of Foweera. The spies started
cautiously on their errand.
About five minutes passed in utter silence; the voices that we had heard
had ceased. We were very cold, being wet through with the dew.
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