I Get Him To Make Me Tea, While The Others Pack Up As
Quickly As Possible, And By Two We Are All Off On Our Way Down To
The Forest Camp.
The boys are nervous in their way of going down over the mountain
wall.
The misadventures of Cook alone would fill volumes. Monrovia
boy is out and away the best man at this work. Just as we reach the
high jungle grass, down comes the rain and up comes the mist, and we
have the worst time we have had during our whole trip, in our
endeavours to find the hole in the forest that leads to our old
camp.
Unfortunately, I must needs go in for acrobatic performances on the
top of one of the highest, rockiest hillocks. Poising myself on one
leg I take a rapid slide sideways, ending in a very showy leap
backwards which lands me on the top of the lantern I am carrying to-
day, among miscellaneous rocks. There being fifteen feet or so of
jungle grass above me, all the dash and beauty of my performance are
as much thrown away as I am, for my boys are too busy on their own
accounts in the mist to miss me. After resting some little time as
I fell, and making and unmaking the idea in my mind that I am
killed, I get up, clamber elaborately to the top of the next
hillock, and shout for the boys, and "Ma," "ma," comes back from my
flock from various points out of the fog.
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