John and Tom set to work cleaning up the Sky-Bird, for the field here was low and very muddy from recent rains, and as they had dashed through the slime in landing much of it had splattered over their propeller and under-carriage. Paul and Bob went into town, followed by a throng of young negroes who fought for the privilege of getting closest to them. They found the stores small and mostly unpainted, and the houses principally shambling and squatty, most of them having thatched roofs. The streets were narrow, crooked, and dirty, but there were areas about some of the more pretentious dwelling-places which were really entrancing in the wealth of their tropical plants and stately palms. On the whole, the stone garrison, setting a little remote from the town proper, was the largest and best-constructed building, although this looked old and somber. Freetown, the capital of the little British colony of Sierra Leone, is all on low ground, and the air is moist and extremely humid, even unhealthful for those not accustomed to it. Just before dark a terrific thunder-shower sprang up with all of the suddenness of such equatorial storms, and Bob and Paul made for the field as fast as their legs could carry them. They sprang inside of the Sky-Bird's cabin, wet to the skin, where John and Tom were already ensconsed, and Grandpa the monkey gave them a noisy and hearty welcome. A little later, with the rain pattering heavily down upon the roof, all hands turned in for the first ground sleep they had had since starting out upon their trip. Shortly after daylight the next morning they were astir, to find the rain had ceased but that the field was a mass of ooze. Through this Tom made his way to the cobblestone street and down to the piers. But the coasting steamer had not yet arrived; in fact, she did not come in until after eight o'clock, and it was two hours later before the flyers succeeded in getting their tanks filled with the gasoline she had brought. Then it was found necessary to secure the aid of a half-dozen negroes, and to lay down many strips of heavy bark for traction, before the Sky-Bird could be run out of her mired position. Paul was at the throttle as they took off. When he had attained a fair altitude, he gradually increased the speed until they were running full out. Never since the beginning of the trip had they felt such urgent need of putting the airplane through at a fast clip, but that time had now come, for they were fourteen hours behind schedule time and sixteen hours behind their rivals.