enormous tree, from the branches of which descended numerous slight stalks, apparently supporting them as they spread out on every side over the ground. I now recognised a magnificent specimen of the baobab-tree, of immense girth, and with numerous branches and almost countless offshoots. On one side was a Guinea-palm, its graceful fan-like branches rising from a centre stalk--a mere liliputian plant it looked in comparison to its lofty neighbour. On the other side was an acacia, the size of an ordinary oak, though a little way off I took it for a diminutive shrub. A very few other trees only were scattered about. Getting still nearer, I observed a hollow in the trunk of the baobab-tree--a wooden cavern, capable of containing a dozen or more persons. Remembering to have heard that the baobab does not attract lightning, I made my way towards it, resolving to take shelter within. I hurried to the mouth, and looking in, was thankful to find that it contained no inhabitants. Here, at all events, we might rest secure from the storm. Putting Natty down, I examined the interior to see that no snakes lurked in the crevices of the wood. I could discover none: so I cleared out a spot where Natty could rest more at ease; and as the wood and leaves under the tree were still dry, I collected a sufficient supply of both-- one to form our couch, and the other for our fire. The rain had begun to pour down in torrents outside, but within the trunk we were completely sheltered. As there was ample room to light a fire inside, I soon had one, and some of our birds roasting before it. Natty agreed that we were better lodged than we had been since we left home. There we sat watching the storm, which howled and raged outside. The rain came down literally in a deluge.