During the night the wind lulled as though reposing after the boisterousness of the day, and the _Victoria_ remained quietly at the top of the tall sycamore. The doctor and Kennedy kept watch by turns, and Joe availed himself of the chance to sleep most sturdily for twenty-four hours at a stretch. “That’s the remedy he needs,” said Dr. Ferguson. “Nature will take charge of his care.” With the dawn the wind sprang up again in quite strong, and moreover capricious gusts. It shifted abruptly from south to north, but finally the _Victoria_ was carried away by it toward the west. The doctor, map in hand, recognized the kingdom of Damerghou, an undulating region of great fertility, in which the huts that compose the villages are constructed of long reeds interwoven with branches of the _asclepia_. The grain-mills were seen raised in the cultivated fields, upon small scaffoldings or platforms, to keep them out of the reach of the mice and the huge ants of that country. They soon passed the town of Zinder, recognized by its spacious place of execution, in the centre of which stands the “tree of death.” At its foot the executioner stands waiting, and whoever passes beneath its shadow is immediately hung! Upon consulting his compass, Kennedy could not refrain from saying: “Look! we are again moving northward.” “No matter; if it only takes us to Timbuctoo, we shall not complain. Never was a finer voyage accomplished under better circumstances!” “Nor in better health,” said Joe, at that instant thrusting his jolly countenance from between the curtains of the awning. “There he is! there’s our gallant friend—our preserver!” exclaimed Kennedy, cordially.—“How goes it, Joe?” “Oh! why, naturally enough, Mr. Kennedy, very naturally! I never felt better in my life! Nothing sets a man up like a little pleasure-trip with a bath in Lake Tchad to start on—eh, doctor?” “Brave fellow!” said Ferguson, pressing Joe’s hand, “what terrible anxiety you caused us!” “Humph! and you, sir? Do you think that I felt easy in my mind about you, gentlemen? You gave me a fine fright, let me tell you!” “We shall never agree in the world, Joe, if you take things in that style.” “I see that his tumble hasn’t changed him a bit,” added Kennedy. “Your devotion and self-forgetfulness were sublime, my brave lad, and they saved us, for the _Victoria_ was falling into the lake, and, once there, nobody could have extricated her.” “But, if my devotion, as you are pleased to call my summerset, saved you, did it not save me too, for here we are, all three of us, in first-rate health? Consequently we have nothing to squabble about in the whole affair.” “Oh! we can never come to a settlement with that youth,” said the sportsman. “The best way to settle it,” replied Joe, “is to say nothing more about the matter. What’s done is done. Good or bad, we can’t take it back.”