lllu (outenuiii
—O St—
A FROWNING CITY.
By H. Rider Haggard, Author of
“K‘ng Solomon's Mines”, “She”, “Dawn”, etc.
CHAPTER HI.—THE MISSION STATION.
\Ve made the remains ot onr boat fast to
the other canoe, and sat waiting for the
dawn, and congratulating ourselves upon
our merciful escape, which really see me 1
to result more from the special favor of
Providence than from our own care or
prowess. At last it came, and I have not
often I>een more grateful to .re the light,
though so far as my canoe was concerned
it revealed a ghastly sight. There in the
bottom of the little Isiat lay the unfortun
ate Askar I, the sime, or sword. In his bos
om, and the severed hand gripping the
handle. 1 could not bear the sight; so haul
ing up the stone which had served ns an,
anchor to the other canoe, wo made it fast
to the murdered man and dropped him
overboard, and down he went to the bot
tom, leaving nothing but a train of bubbles
behind him! Alas! when our time comes,
most of as, like him, leave nothing but
bubbles behind, to show that we have been,
and the bubbles soon burst. The hand of
his murderer we threw into the stream,
and I saw a young crocodile seize it as il
was slowly sinking. The sime, or sword,
of which the handle was ivory, inlaid with
gold (evidently Arab work), 1 kepi and
used ns a hunting knife, and very useful it
proved.
