And then speech came, and the boy found himself muttering aloud, though it seemed to be somebody else talking. But now the power to put that and that together to some extent grew stronger. "Oh, Dean, how you do sleep!" came from somewhere. "Here, wake up!" And he grew a little better, for he felt that his lips were touching his cousin's warm ear, while now it was another voice that said drowsily, "What's the matter?" "Ah! that's better," the other voice ejaculated, and he heard it plainly, though it was partially smothered by the awful confusion of strange sounds that came as it were from a distance. "Oh, how dark!" And he knew now that it was his own voice, for he was rapidly shaking off the strange feeling of mental torpidity. "Father! Dr Robertson! Are you there?" His words came back to him as if his face was covered with something thick, while he fully grasped the idea now that the noise that smote his ears was somewhere far away. "I don't know what's the matter," he muttered. "Am I ill? It can't be a dream. Here, Dean, wake up!" "What's the matter?" came again drowsily. "I want you to listen." "Bother! Will in the morning." "Oh, how can you be so stupid!" Mark was rapidly recovering now. _Snore_! "Will you wake up?" And this was accompanied by a shake. "Be quiet! Want me to hit you on the nose?" "Yes, and I want you to shake me. I'm--I'm--oh, I don't know how I feel--yes, I do," added the boy, as the power of thinking and acting now grew stronger. "Dean!" "Oh, bother!" cried his cousin. "Now then, what is it?" And in the darkness Mark felt his hand shaken off, and from the movement knew that his cousin had risen up into a sitting position sharply and banged himself down again, the noise he made being followed instantly by a loud snore. "Dean!" cried Mark again, renewing his attack, and this time giving the sleeper a violent shake, which roused him again. "Now then, what is it?" "Listen! Do you hear that dreadful noise?" "No-o!" came sleepily. "What is it?" The question was asked through two folds of blanket, and naturally sounded woolly. "Lions, I think." "Tell them to lie down." "Oh, don't be such a fool!" "Nogoinabe. Wha' time is it? Goo' night." "Dozey! Oh, you sleepy old dormouse! I am sure there is something dreadful going on. We are in danger." "Lem dange. Here, tell the doctor. Don' wake uncle, nor me." "Oh, dear, what shall I do!" said Mark, half aloud. "Oh, my head! My head! This must be--yes, I remember; I am in the waggon--here, Dean! Dean!" And he began shaking his cousin again. "Don't! Don't!" And there was the sound of the boy's bare feet kicking, and a snatch made as if to draw back the blankets that had been sent flying. "Oh, I will serve you out for--here, what do you want?" "You to wake up. Can't you see how dark it is?" "Dark?" "Yes; quite black." Dean was wide awake now. "Yes, everything's as black as black." "Well, did you expect it to be white?"