At length the desert was left behind, and the river plunged into the midst of a dense forest. Day after day passed, with nothing to be seen but tall trees and a thick undergrowth. The heat, too, began to increase, while every night a thick, miasmal mist arose. Mosquitoes appeared in swarms, and so determined were their attentions that the faces and arms of the crew were masses of blisters. The enervating vapour began to tell on the lads after the bracing air of the Croixilian plateau, and soon a pair of more unhealthy-looking people could hardly be imagined. Reeves was greatly worried. Without even the most simple remedies or drugs, the chances of warding off an attack of fever were greatly reduced; but the lads kept up their spirits wonderfully, knowing that every hour brought them nearer to civilization. At length, in an opening in the forest, a village came in sight--a collection of miserable mud huts, thatched with palm leaves. Directly they caught sight of the boat the inhabitants ran down to the water's edge, where they stood gazing fixedly, with wide-open mouths, at the strange sight. "If we meet with no worse reception than that, I shan't mind," said Reeves, as a bend in the river hid the natives from view. "One thing, they are not Arabs." "What are they?" "Negroes--possibly Hausas. It's a good sign, since we know that we are approaching Nigerian territory. I shall be very much surprised if this river is not a tributary of the Niger, in which case we ought soon to stumble across one of the trading stations of the Northern Nigeria Company." After this riverside villages became numerous, but beyond undisguised surprise the natives showed no sign of hostility until the boat passed a large stockaded town, in front of which several canoes were drawn up. Here, as before, the natives rushed pell-mell to the bank, several of them holding up earthenware pots, while all of them shouted discordantly. "They want to barter, evidently--another good sign. But we must not run any risk with these niggers." Seeing that the occupants of the boat paid no attention to their shouts and gestures, the negroes began to beat tom-toms. This was a signal for a swarm of men armed with spears to rush for the canoes, and soon half a dozen "dug-outs", each urged by twenty paddles, were tearing downstream in pursuit. "This looks bad!" exclaimed Reeves. "Stand by the steering oar, Gerald. Hugh, hand me up those guns." In spite of the strong wind, that bore the boat along at a rapid pace, the canoes were steadily gaining, and the woods echoed to the monotonous war song of the natives and the rhythmical beat of the paddles. Kneeling, Reeves fired a shot well above the heads of the men in the leading canoe. For an instant the paddlers hesitated, then with the greatest persistency redoubled their efforts.