"Oh, no," said Mark, laughing; "not quite. Oh, what a fellow you are! There, rouse up and let me throw a blanket over the big chest, and when I have tied back the tilt we will lie with our heads out there, and perhaps we shall be able to breathe the cool air." This proved to be the case, with the result that Dean went off to sleep instantly, while Mark kept dozing off and waking again with a start. At last, tired of the uneasy feeling that troubled him, he crept out from the tail end of the waggon and stood looking about the enclosure, where all was still save the heavy breathing of one of the ponies or that of the bullocks. "Phew!" sighed Mark. "What a hot night! Here, I know; I'll go and see how the dad is getting on." A few steps took him to where he could see his father's face, the glow from the fire throwing it up and flashing from his eyes. "He is getting sunburnt," thought the boy, and then, stepping out of the shadow cast by the waggon, he walked quickly towards the sentry of the night and began speaking aloud: "Don't shoot, father!" "Why, Mark, my boy, what are you doing here? Have you heard anything?" "No, father; but I couldn't sleep. Have you?" "I heard a lion once, with his deep barking roar, and there are several of those wretched jackals about. I am afraid we shall hear a good deal more of these noises out in the plain than we did close in the shelter of the forest. But don't stop talking. Go back to sleep." "But I can't sleep, father," said the boy reproachfully. "Nonsense! Try again. I daresay you will be able to go off now, after coming out and talking to me." "But can't I stay with you, father?" protested the boy. "No. You must have sleep, and if you don't you will be uneasy to-morrow. What makes you so wakeful? Not going to be ill, are you?" "Oh, no, father; I'm quite well." "Then go back to the waggon and lie down." "Good-night, father." "Good-night," was the reply. "Ah, there's another of those jackals. What a miserable note it is!" "Yes, father; but I think the hyaenas are worse," said Mark eagerly. "Didn't I tell you to go back to bed, sir!" "Yes, father, but--" "Then go." "Bother!" muttered the boy, as he went off. "He might as well have let me stay. It would have been company for him." Mark stepped on towards the dark side of the waggon, and continued muttering to himself till he raised his hand to the side of the great clumsy vehicle, placed a foot on one of the spokes, and was in the act of drawing himself up to climb in, but suddenly let himself drop back, for something leaped out of the interior of the waggon right over his cousin, reaching the earth with a dull thud, and darting away. "Whatever can that be?" said the boy excitedly, and with a catching of the breath. He felt his heart begin to pump heavily in his excitement.