looked forward to rejoining her in the hereafter and of having a great deal to tell her. He was no longer dusty, but grimy, and his calm majesty had in it now something of mystic resignation. He said it was his duty to his wife's memory to justify the faith she had had in him. Perhaps he was doing so. He sat in the bare kitchen in the evening, with a candle for light, and meditated over a pipe. The washcloths were not appreciated, but that did n't discourage him.

One evening at twilight he was coming home carrying the sort of thing that once connoted beer; he was however, fetching water from a neighboring brook in which to wash. He had a Bologna sandwich in his pocket, and a bag of tobacco, and he whistled sweetly as he came. He was surprised to see a motor-car standing before the house, but not dismayed. An elderly lady was sitting in it; she beckoned to him, and he approached.

"Are you John Carr?" she asked. "I am, madame," he answered with courtly grace, removing his hat. In the dusk, and to old eyes, there was nothing to be perceived but his stately carriage, his serene and well modulated voice.

"I'm poor Janet's Aunt Kitty," said she. "Dear me! dear me! She was the last I had left, and now she's gone."

"Yes, she 's gone," said Mr. Carr, and the tranquillity of his tone startled the old lady.

again. Death," said he, "means little to me."

"You 're not afraid of dying?" asked the old lady, who was.

"I'm not afraid of anything," said Mr. Carr. "Death is only a bridge." And he went on, and the old lady could have listened to him forever.

"I'll step inside," said she. "I like to hear a man talk like this."

"I cannot ask you to come in," said Mr. Carr, "because the gas has been turned off and the furniture taken away." Somehow he did not think of offering her one of his home-made chairs.

"Mercy me! You 're living there with no lights and no furniture?” cried she.

"And no water," said Mr. Carr. "But I don't need them. I have my own thoughts and memories and a candle."

"You 're a wonderful man!" said she. He did n't deny it.

"But you can't be getting on very well in business," she added.

"I gave up my business when Janet fell ill, so that I might attend to her as she deserved," he answered. "I don't complain; she was worth any sacrifice."

The old lady drove away, weeping. She had materialized out of the dusk for the sole purpose of witnessing the apotheosis of Mr. Carr; her part in life was played, and she died the next month. She left all her money to him, as who would not?

He is now wealthy, and no longer

observed, with displeasure.

"No, I don't," said Mr. Carr. And in that moment came his apotheosis. "I have the great consolation of knowing I did everything possible for her while she was here. And I shall see her

but cabinets of lacquer-work. He is quite unspoiled by his fortune.

"I always had faith in life," he will tell you. "I never lost courage. I knew I'd work my way out of my troubles."

0:

康

ས་

eif.

HEN at dawn on the sixteenth

W of March we were ready to

break up in order to march toward our future field of operations in the valley between Mikeno and Karissimbi, there were heavy, black rain-clouds hanging over the mountain-tops, and the weather looked as if it were going to be anything but pleasant. As usual, the bearers had not appeared in sufficient numbers at the appointed hour, and the promised guides had not put in an appearance; but later an additional number of negroes arrived, and at ten o'clock we were at last ready to leave the hospitable missionary station at Lulenga in order to enjoy for some time to come the free and unfettered life of the wilderness.

In the little village of Burunga, situated in a wide open plain just at the foot of Mikeno, from which there is a glorious view over the surrounding volcano district, we made a brief halt in order to try to engage some guides familiar with the neighborhood instead of those whom the missionaries at Nyundo had promised us, but who were still conspicuous by their absence. To the east lay the enormous mountain massif to which we meant to proceed in order, as far as time would permit, to discover its zoological secrets. Nearest us was enthroned Mikeno, whose perpendicular and insurmountable highest peaks now and then became visible through the scurrying

masses of cloud, which seemed to play a delirious game of "tick" with one another round the top of the mountain. A little farther away in a southeasterly direction rose up the familiar, regular cone of Karissimbi, and in the sunshine, which now and then broke through, it shone dazzling white with freshly fallen snow. It looked as if Karissimbi had put on a white skullcap, which, however, here and there stretched a little farther down the steep slopes of the mountain. In the west, and under our feet, spread out the broad valley which separates the most westerly volcanic complex from the central one, and in this valley white cloud formations began to rise toward the sky. In the background you could catch a glimpse of Namlagira and Ninagongo. From the interior of these mountains grayish white masses of clouds rolled up, proving that they had not yet gone to rest.

But the day is short, and we had far to go to reach our next campingground on the highest point in the valley between Mikeno and Karissimbi. So we broke up as soon as any of the inhabitants of the valley had declared themselves willing to accompany us as guides. The natives do not as a rule like staying up in the higher mountain regions. They fear the biting cold, and possibly also the evil spirits that dwell there.

Soon after we had left the village

behind us, the bearers tried to get permission to make camp. They all declared with one voice that a further advance that day was impracticable. Partly they said it was impossible to reach our proposed camping-ground while there was still light, and partly we could not be sure of finding any water on the way. But I decided, nevertheless, to continue a little farther, because it did not accord with my plans to camp near the village. A number of bearers would then be sure to run away. I was not worried about the water, either. There must doubtless be access to drinking water in some of the many rills and streams that found their way down the mountain slopes, and which we could see with the naked eye. As soon as the bearers realized that we did not intend to follow their advice and spend the night at the foot of the mountain, they increased their speed and marched forward considerably faster and better than before.

When we had left the cultivated country behind us we entered into a dense undergrowth in which here and there a few high mountains peeped out over the brilliant green. We followed a narrow path through this chaos of all kind of plants. The path had evidently not long before been used by elephants, whose heavy footprints were often seen. The elephants had amused themselves by pulling up a number of trees from the leaves of which they had enjoyed a needed meal. In several places the path was so narrow and overgrown that our forest knives had to be used in order to assist the progress of the caravan. The gradient became steeper and steeper, and the path more and more muddy. Almost the whole time we sank into

the mud up to the ankles, and as it was at the same time extremely slippery, it may be imagined without much difficulty that it was not exactly a path of roses.

After about two hours' march through the undergrowth we began to enter the bamboo forest. Here it was, if possible, still dirtier and more slippery than before. The bamboo forest, which stretches round the volcanoes in a broad belt at a height of about three thousand meters, is so dense that the sun's rays can scarcely penetrate it and with their life-giving warmth dry up the ground beneath, which here nourishes only a short sparse undergrowth. The elephants, which during the latter part of our tiresome march through the forest had struck into other paths than those followed by us, had now once more trampled in our direction, and their enormous feet had left deep impressions. Often we had to jump to the "firmer" ground between the footprints, a process which did not render our already difficult climbing any easier. The path was covered with dry leaves, which rustled at every step. Otherwise we scarcely heard a sound except from some little birds, which flew terrified to more peaceful parts. An agreeable coolness reigns in these somber places, seldom trodden by human feet. Despite the coolness, the perspiration was running off us, and we realized that the road was uphill. Our lungs and hearts worked violently, but, then, we were at a height of about thirty-two hundred meters above the sea-level.

Onward and upward went our way. After seven hours' very strenuous marching we at last reached a little clearing in the forest. The bamboo had now given place to other trees,

was predominant.

As, according to our guides, there was some possibility of finding water in the neighborhood of this clearing, we decided to spend the night here. Soon our tents were set up, and gaily crackling camp-fires announced that the hardships of the day were happily over and that we might rest before our renewed efforts of the following day. According to the guides, we should be subject to hardships at least as strenuous before we had reached the goal of our journey. That sounded cheerful!

We all felt content when at dawn the next day we were ready to break up. It had been extremely cold and damp during the night, and we longed for the moment when the sun would show his flame-red countenance above the horizon. Fortunately, only nine bearers had deserted us.

The path that we now followed was less muddy, and progress was consequently a little more rapid, though the gradient was steeper. We were, however, often obliged to cut away the surrounding vegetation. The ground was similar to that which we had passed through during the latter part of the previous day. The undergrowth chiefly consisted of tall, stinging nettles of a species related to our own chervil. The higher trees mostly consisted of hagenias. The bird life. at this height appeared to be somewhat richer than lower down, and a number of interesting species were added to our ever growing collections. Among the feathered creatures of the forest Graner's little male humming-bird, parading in a magnificent and vividly colored array, was far and away the most common. The male is of a me

while the breast is carmine red. It was a real joy to the eye to see these little creatures fly from tree to tree, sucking their nourishment from the flowers. By their sweet twittering they also enlivened the desolation and silence. We saw traces of buffaloes, but not a glimpse of the beasts themselves. Monkeys shrieked and chattered, but kept at a safe distance and gave us no opportunity for a shot.

After five hours' march the forest began to grow thinner, and we reached a spot covered with short grass and various plants, in the middle of which there was a little pool. We had at last reached the highest point of the pass. Here we were to make camp and to settle for some time to come. Numerous tracks both of elephants and buffaloes showed that these animals used to quench their thirst in the dirty water of the pool. During our journey we had also noticed old traces of mountain gorillas in various places. I therefore began to cherish a little hope of an opportunity of adding one or perhaps several of these rare animals to our collection of the peculiar fauna of the volcano district.

§ 2

Our camp was situated at the height of about thirty-six hundred meters above the sea-level, and the climate at this height was anything but pleasant. It was difficult to realize that we were two degrees of latitude south of the equator. Cold rain or fog was the order of the day, and all our thick clothes-there were not, however, many of them-were brought out. Especially during the night it was frightfully cold, though we generally slept well despite it.