came up one night, and laid waste their vegetable garden; the sheep broke into their cotton patch, when it was in flower, and ate it all, except the stems; then the crocodiles carried off the sheep, and the natives stole the fowls.  Nor were they more successful as gun-smiths:  a Portuguese trader, having an exalted opinion of the ingenuity of English sailors, showed them a double-barrelled rifle, and inquired if they could put on the browning, which had rusted off.  “I think I knows how,” said one, whose father was a blacksmith, “it’s very easy; you have only to put the barrels in the fire.”  A great fire of wood was made on shore, and the unlucky barrels put over it, to secure the handsome rifle colour.  To Jack’s utter amazement the barrels came asunder.  To get out of the scrape, his companion and he stuck the pieces together with resin, and sent it to the owner, with the message, “It was all they could do for it, and they would not charge him anything for the job!” They had also invented an original mode of settling a bargain; having ascertained the market price of provisions, they paid that, but no more.  If the traders refused to leave the ship till the price was increased, a chameleon, of which the natives have a mortal dread, was brought out of the cabin; and the moment the natives saw the creature, they at once sprang overboard.  The chameleon settled every dispute in a twinkling.

But besides their good-humoured intercourse, they showed humanity worthy of English sailors.  A terrible scream roused them up one night, and they pushed off in a boat to the rescue.  A crocodile had caught a woman, and was dragging her across a shallow sandbank.  Just as they came up to her, she gave a fearful shriek:  the horrid reptile had snapped off her leg at the knee.  They took her on board, bandaged the limb as well as they could, and, not thinking of any better way of showing their sympathy, gave her a glass of rum, and carried her to a hut in the village.  Next morning they found the bandages torn off, and the unfortunate creature left to die.  “I believe,” remarked Rowe, one of the sailors, “her master was angry with us for saving her life, seeing as how she had lost her leg.”

The Zambesi being unusually low, we remained at Tette till it rose a little, and then left on the 3rd of December for the Kongone.  It was hard work to keep the vessel afloat; indeed, we never expected her to remain above water.  New leaks broke out every day; the engine pump gave way; the bridge broke down; three compartments filled at night; except the cabin and front compartment all was flooded; and in a few days we were assured by Rowe that “she can’t be worse than she is, sir.”  He and Hutchins had spent much of their time, while we were away, in patching her bottom, puddling it with clay, and shoring it, and it was chiefly to please them that we again attempted to make use of her.  We had long been fully convinced that the steel plates were thoroughly