“You ass, you’ve hooked the bill into a nest.  There—­that round, black thing—­like a football.  They’re running up the bill-hook.”

There was a splash as the boat was shoved off, then muttered exclamations and a yelp from the jackal:  Many scores of ants had invaded the Okapi, and each ant, full of murderous rage for the wanton attack upon the nest, seized hold of the first soft thing it came across, and once it gripped it held on like a bull-dog.  War was waged on the invaders, and when the last had been discovered and crushed, there was no sleep in the savage eyes of the awakened.

Incidents like these alone varied the monotony of the dreary days they spent in that mournful slough, and if it had not been for the regular exercise at the levers, and the hope of a speedy release from their surroundings, the young explorers must have succumbed.  As it was, they lost colour, became pale, languid, and heavy-eyed; and Mr. Hume, noting the signs of the dreaded wasting sickness with anxiety, did not spare himself or Muata when it came to their turn to work the levers.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PLACE OF REST

The chiefs wife urged them on.  Neither night nor day did she seem to rest, for whenever one of the boys, in a feverish sleep, tossed his arms about, she was at his side with a drink compounded of herbs, that kept the fever away.  She took her spell at the levers, her long round arms moving with unexpected power, and only the hunter himself could tire her out.  As for him, he was not happy unless he was working, and at times he made the screw spin again under his fierce strokes, whenever his eyes fell on the wan faces of his young companions stewing in the insufferable heat.  He shortened the journey by twenty-four hours, for on the afternoon of the fourth day the woman, for the first time, showed signs of joy.

“Lift up your heads, O young lions,” she cried; “let the light come into your eyes, and the strength into your limbs, for we are at the gates!  You will catch the cool wind in your mouths.  Your nostrils will sniff the air of the hills; your feet will tread the open way; your eyes will see the white clouds afar.  Awake, my children, we are at the gates.”

They lifted their heads, throbbing with the touch of fever, and before them they saw a sheet of clear water; beyond that a glistening wall of rock, and following up higher and higher, they saw the deep blue of the sky.

“We are out at last,” said the hunter, in his deep tones.  “Off with the awning, Muata; let us breathe again.”

The awning was thrown back, and the boys sat up, drawing in the air in great gulps.

“This is but the beginning,” said the woman.  “A little further and your eyes will rest on the gardens below and the hilltops above.  You will skip like the he-goat from rock to rock.  You will shout and rejoice.  I know.  I was young, too, and I also came through the dark way.”