They went along, more often thinking of what they should write, than watching for material by the way. They pulled out their pocket-books when any particularly erudite words or expressions occurred to them, and jotted these down with supreme satisfaction, to drag them in somehow in the day's log. At nights, while sitting at their camp fires, they compared these high-falutin notes, and mutually congratulated each other over these jaw-crackers. It was a sweet joy to read them over aloud, and roll them round their tongues. They were most generous to each other in imparting their critical advice, and sharing their choice expressions, while, as they had all been educated in the same school, the three logs, rolled into one, was written down by Ned, and after great deliberation and corrections, was laid aside as the final copy. This was composed and written, as they fondly imagined, for the printers. They were mighty particular, therefore, over it, so that it would read smoothly and roundly, and when done, they compared it with other travellers' works that they had read, with happy conceit. Herodotus and Mungo Parke, they admitted modestly, had done as well, perhaps. Joseph Thomson also was pretty fair with his wise and moral reflections; but as for those other slovenly writers like Stanley, Selous, and such-like, they thought their amalgamated journal would keep them at a respectful distance. This juvenile mutual admiration and camp log rolling was a great solace to them for the first week or so. The journal interfered a good deal with sport and real business, of course. Thinking of it made them miss many a fine chance and good shot, and several times ran them into real danger; but it consoled them all the same, while the novelty lasted, for those other unavoidable mischances. Their carriers did not object, as it gave them many opportunities for resting, which they would not have had otherwise. But Cocoeni and the hunters protested often and vehemently against this waste of time and opportunities. The hunters, who had started full of faith in their young masters, lost a good deal of their enthusiasm and respect, and might have turned heel altogether in disgust, if Cocoeni had not flagged up their weakening interest. Cocoeni was, however, their right-hand man and staunch supporter. He was an enthusiast in deeds of daring and destruction, and equally ready to wash his spear in wild beast or hostile man. If he grunted impatiently when he saw the note-book produced instead of the gun, he always did his best to excuse the weakness and explain the mistake away to his sable brethren. "Bah! this is nothing," he would say, when he saw the carefully tracked animal bound away unscathed, all on account of those note-books. "Don't be afraid. This is only the beginning. By-and-by you will see our masters wake up and do great deeds. By-and-by they will not write. We have been together before, and I know them to be men."