“_The little master_, Kachéché?” I gasped. “Surely not the little master?” “Yes, he is lost, master!” “But how came he in the canoe?” I asked, turning to Uledi and his dripping comrades, who had now come up, and were still brown-faced with their late terrors. “Speak, Uledi, how came he—a cripple—to venture into the canoe?” In response to many and searching questions I obtained the following account. As Uledi and his comrades were about to push off, Frank had crawled up near the river and bade them stop and place him in. Uledi expostulated with him, upon the ground that I had not mentioned anything about taking him, and Manwa Sera, in charge of the canoes, hurried up and coaxingly tried to persuade him not to venture, as the river was bad; but he repelled them with all a sick man’s impatience, and compelled the crew to lift him into the canoe. The _Jason_, being swift and well-manned, was propelled against the eddy with ease, and in half an hour it was racing over the small rapids of Massessé down river. As they approached Massassa, which was only a mile below Massessé, the booming of the cataract made Uledi anxious not to venture too near, until he had viewed the falls, and for that purpose, with Frank’s permission, he skirted the intermediate cliffs, until they came to a little cove just above the Massassa, where the crew held on to the rocks. Uledi soon climbed upward and proceeded to the rocks overhanging the fall, where he was enabled to view the extent of the danger at a glance. After only a few minutes’ absence he returned to Frank, who was still seated in the bottom of the canoe, and addressing him said:— “Little master, it is impossible to shoot the falls, no canoe or boat can do it and live.” “Bah!” said Frank contemptuously, “did I not see as we came down a strip of calm water on the left which by striking across river we could easily reach?” “But, master, this fall is not directly across river, it is almost up and down (diagonally); the lower part on the left being much farther than that which is on the right, and which begins to break close by here. I tell you the truth,” rejoined Uledi, as Frank shook his head sceptically, “little master, I have looked at all the fall, and I can see no way by water; it will be death to make the trial.” “Well,” said Frank, “what shall we do?” “We must send to the master,” replied Uledi, “and tell him that we have brought our canoe to Massassa. Meantime we can tie up our canoe here until he comes.” “And what is to become of me?” asked Frank. “We will not be long before we are back with a kitanda” (hammock), “and you will reach camp by night.” “What, carry me about the country like a worthless Goee-Goee,” he replied, “for all the natives to stare at me? No, indeed! Anyhow, I must wait here all day without food, eh?” “It will not be long, master; in a quarter of an hour I can reach camp, and in another half I can be back, bringing food and hammock.”