“Bad business, I am afraid, Jeekie.  Shouldn’t have brought you here, or those poor beggars either,” and he looked at the scared, frozen Ogula.  “I begin to wonder——­”

“Never wonder, Major,” broke in Jeekie in alarm.  “If wonder, not live, if wonder, not be born, too much wonder about everywhere.  Can’t understand nothing, so give it up.  Say, ‘Right-O and devil hindermost!’ Very good motto for biped in tight place.  Better drown here than in City bucket shop.  But no drown.  Should be dead long ago, but Little Bonsa play the game, she not want to sink in stinking swamp when so near her happy home.  Come out all right somehow, as from dwarf.  Every cloud have silver lining, Major, even that black chap up there.  Oh! my golly!”

This last exclamation was wrung from Jeekie’s lips by a sudden development of “forces of Nature” which astonished even him.  Instead of a silver lining the “black chap” exhibited one of gold.  In an instant it seemed to turn to acres of flame; it was as though the heavens had taken fire.  A flash or a thunderbolt struck the water within ten yards of their canoe, causing the boatmen to throw themselves upon their faces through shock or terror.  Then came the hurricane, which fortunately was so strong that it permitted no more rain to fall.  The tall reeds were beaten flat beneath its breath; the canoe was seized in its grip and whirled round and round, then driven forward like an arrow.  Only the weight of the men and the water in it prevented it from oversetting.  Dense darkness fell upon them and although they could see no star, they knew that it must be night.  On they rushed, driven by that shrieking gale, and all about and around them this wall of darkness.  No one spoke, for hope was abandoned, and if they had, their voices could not have been heard.  The last thing that Alan remembered was feeling Jeekie dragging a grass mat over him to protect him a little if he could.  Then his senses wavered, as does a dying lamp.  He thought that he was back in what Jeekie had rudely called “City bucket shop,” bargaining across the telephone wire, upon which came all the sounds of the infernal regions, with a financial paper for an article on a Little Bonsa Syndicate that he proposed to float.  He thought he was in The Court woods with Barbara, only the birds in the trees sang so unnaturally loud that he could not hear her voice, and she wore Little Bonsa on her head as a bonnet.  Then she departed in flame, leaving him and Death alone.

Alan awoke.  Above the sun shone hotly, warming him back to life, but in front was a thick wall of mist and rising beyond it in the distance he saw the rugged swelling forms of mountains.  Doubtless these had been visible before, but the tall reeds through which they travelled had hid the sight of them.  He looked behind him and there in a heap lay the Ogula around their chief, insensible or sleeping.  He counted them and found that two were gone, lost in the tempest, how or where no man ever learned.