Lost in the Jungle; Narrated for Young PeopleDu Chaillu, Paul B. (Paul Belloni)
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Lost in the Jungle; Narrated for Young People
Du Chaillu, Paul B. (Paul Belloni)
Africa, West -- Description and travel; Africa, West -- Description and travel -- Juvenile literature
We took a northerly direction till the afternoon, when we left the
prairie, and entered at once into as fine a piece of bog land as any one
could wish to be in. It was awful traveling; the ground was soft, and
every step we made took us almost knee-deep into it. Now and then I had
to look at my compass to see that we were going in the right direction,
for there was no path whatever; but the Ashira said we would find one
after passing the marshes; that it was a hunting-path, and that there we
would meet game. The fellows were already thinking of meat.
When night came on we stopped on a hill surrounded by bog; we were so
tired that we had not the strength to build our shelters; besides, there
were no large leaves to be seen. We lighted tremendous fires, but toward
midnight I was awakened by the sound of distant thunder, which gradually
grew louder and louder; then flashes of lightning glared through the
forest, and then terrific claps of thunder rolled along the sky. The
rain began to pour down with a fury that flooded the country in a short
time; our beds of leaves were saturated, compelling us to get up. The
rain kept pouring down with increasing violence. We had not built our
fires sufficiently high, although we had used huge pieces of wood that
ought to have been high enough from the ground to prevent the rain from
putting them out. But they were getting dimmer and dimmer, and at last
we were left in complete darkness. It was pitch dark, and we could not
even see each other except when a flash of lightning would brighten the
forest.
We were in a pretty fix. I began to regret that we had not been more
careful. Leopards and other wild beasts might be prowling about, and get
hold of some of us. What would the Ashiras say if one of their number
should be carried away by a wild beast? They would call me a bad spirit.
We could not even talk, for the thunder was too loud, and drowned our
voices; besides, the rain made a great noise as it fell in torrents upon
the trees, and from their leaves to the ground. We were surrounded by
tall trees, and I was afraid that some of them might be struck by the
lightning, and their heavy broken limbs fall in the midst of us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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