left it a few days before to fetch provisions, supplies, newspapers, periodicals, and letters from the nearest railway station. After a short rest we started off again on a newer and more difficult trail, and as little or no traffic had passed over it, the utmost vigilance was needed on the part of the guides to detect the signs which marked it. The bearers were further laden with three surveying rods, which had been left at the old camp for them to bring along on their return. As the way became more difficult, frequent digressions were made into the bush, with the assistance of machetes, and often a halt was called and consultations held as to whether we were on the trail or not. Darkness was quickly falling, and we realised that it threatened to become a serious matter should we fail to reach the camp before the light completely faded. Harvey and one of the Indians lagged far behind, and the three men who were with us displayed an anxiety I was quick to notice and to share. The trail was lost! We plunged into the thick vegetation, cutting our way with an energy born of fear, till floundering up to the waists in a deep morass, we were forced to retrace our steps. We now realised the awe that the forest can inspire, for in the darkness which had suddenly descended it was impossible to see, and the imagination conjured up snakes and odious things in close proximity. To add to the horror of it all, my companion pointed out that we should have to climb a tree and wait till morning. My tired limbs ached in anticipation of the further effort required of them. My feet were sore and heavy, and the cool night air made my flesh creep under damp, clinging garments, and I felt ready to sink down and let events take their course, without attempting to battle any more against circumstances. We shouted, in hopes that our voices might reach the camp and bring assistance, shouted all together, until our faces must have been as black as the darkness that surrounded us. The negroes and Indians were in dreadful apprehension, their imaginations conjuring up demons of the wood and “duppies” in every moving branch. Strange, uncanny noises added to the unpleasantness of the situation, and when I ventured to quote to my companion, “There is a pleasure in the pathless wood,” he retorted, “It must have retired for the night, as we can’t find it. Still, it’s very gratifying to know it is around somewhere.” I paid no attention, but continued, “There is a rapture by the lonely shore.” He admitted that might be true, for, as he said, you knew where you were. “There is society where none intrude,” I added. But by this time my companion had no proper appreciation of Childe Harold’s meditations, and implored me to help him in roaring, instead of wasting my breath on stuff like poetry. At last we heard a faint “Halloo,” which came from the opposite direction to that which we had been attempting to take, and we made a fresh united effort to raise a loud yell. The