I wish you could have seen the place where I had my encampment. On that part of the coast from Cape Lopez, and further south than Cape St. Catherine, the whole coast is low and covered with prairies which lift but a few feet above the sea level. They are wooded here and there, and shrubs are often mixed with the grass growing on the sandy soil; the grass is good, not growing to a great height, but at this time of the year it has been burned down. The landscape has a great sameness, and from the sea it is most difficult to know any special spot of the land. Altogether it is a dreary country, a very dreary country to look at, but after all I was thankful not to be shut up in the forest; for to see nothing but trees and trees is very tiresome; besides, the Atlantic was before me, and as I gazed upon its broad waters I wished I could see the shores of America. The spot where I stood was about two degrees south of the equator. Our camp was to be built near one of those numerous islands of trees which dot the prairie, and we were to have it built in such a manner as to protect us from the high winds which blew almost directly from the south that time of the year. One by one the men came back—some with a load of long-stem branches of the palm; others with the leaves; others with fire-wood, and others with sticks to make our beds with. Then we went to work in earnest, and as they worked the men sang songs. These men, my own people, had always been with me wherever I went except when I went too far into the interior. They were all splendid canoe-men. There was Kombé whom we had called the quarreller; Ratenou his brother, who was a splendid fellow to go with his canoe through the breakers; Oshimbo, who could paddle better than any man I ever knew; Ritimbo, a jolly good fellow, always ready to beat the tamtam when asked for; Makombé, a splendid one to tell us marvellous stories in the evening; Rakenga, a great fisherman; Bandja, a man who knew how to climb the palm-trees and get palm wine; Adouma, who could trap game and was said to possess a wonderful fetich to make the game come to him; Risani, a good carpenter, who said he was willing to work, but who was continually talking of the amount of food he could eat; then came Yombi, who constantly bragged of how much palm wine he could swallow, but was always promising never to get tipsy—for I had promised him as good a drubbing as ever he would wish to get if I caught him in a state of intoxication. The last man of the party was a slave, a harp player. There was no hunter but myself. So you see we were a nice set altogether, and all were devoted to me and obeyed me cheerfully. They all loved me dearly. Indeed, all the people of that country loved me. [Sidenote: _NEGRO BLARNEY._]