I say it was in an evil hour that the hunters asked him because he gave them so much trouble through his absent-mindedness. He was a very entertaining traveling companion when not engaged in his botanical studies, and so good-humored, and obliging that his comrades did not grumble very much at the trouble he gave them. But, nevertheless, he did cause them great anxiety, for they found out that when he was searching for plants, or had a flower in his hand analyzing it, he would put himself into situations of great peril without knowing anything about it. And so, at least one of their number always had to be on the lookout for Mr. Reed, to keep him out of mischief. For one thing, he _would_ stray away from the main body. This was against the rules of the expedition, for, in a forest full of wild beasts it was necessary to keep together. Generally, when he wandered off this way, he would be missed, and brought back before he had got entirely out of sight. But, on three occasions, he managed to get lost, without intending anything of the kind, and each time, he met with a remarkable adventure. The party had been out but a few days when he was lost for the first time. He must have been absent two hours, when his companions first missed him. At least no one could remember having seen him for that length of time. What might not have happened to him in those two hours, everywhere surrounded by dangers? They immediately commenced the search for him. They went back over the route they had traveled, and, at last, found the place where Mr. Reed had left the caravan. They knew it by the trampled bushes, and by the twigs broken off here and there, and plants pulled up by the roots. Following these marks of his progress they suddenly came out upon the banks of a river. And there they saw the botanist. And, at the same time, all were struck with horror at his situation. He, alone, was happily serene, unconscious that any danger was near him. Seated on a mossy bank, in the midst of tall reeds, on a peninsula that extended pretty far out into the river, was their botanist. He had an umbrella over his head to shield him from the sun, and was busily engaged, arranging some “specimens” in his book of plants, which he called an Herbarium. His back was towards the river, and so absorbed was he in his occupation that he had not discovered that a whole colony of crocodiles had come to pay him a visit. Neither did he hear or see his companions although his face was turned directly towards them. The crocodiles had arranged themselves in a long row, with their heads above the water, watching the botanist with great interest, and evidently, meditating an attack upon him. How long they had been there could not, of course, be known, but, in a few moments after the hunters appeared upon the scene, the nearest crocodile seemed to have made up his mind that a botanist was good to eat, and made straight towards the land, followed by another huge beast.