“No, comrade,” replied Harris; “and
it is even astonishing that I have succeeded in leading
him a hundred miles at least from the coast.
Several days ago my young friend, Dick Sand, looked
at me with an anxious air, his suspicions gradually
changed into certainties—and faith—”
“Another hundred miles, Harris, and those people
would be still more surely in our hands! However,
they must not escape us!”
“Ah! How could they?” replied Harris,
shrugging his shoulders. “I repeat it,
Negoro, there was only time to part company with them.
Ten times have I read in my young friend’s eyes
that he was tempted to send a ball into my breast,
and I have too bad a stomach to digest those prunes
which weigh a dozen to the pound.”
“Good!” returned Negoro; “I also
have an account to settle with this novice.”
“And you shall settle it at your ease, with
interest, comrade. As to me, during the first
three days of the journey I succeeded very well in
making him take this province for the Desert of Atacama,
which I visited formerly. But the child claimed
his caoutchoucs and his humming-birds. The mother
demanded her quinquinas. The cousin was crazy
to find cocuyos. Faith, I was at the end of my
imagination, and after with great difficulty making
them swallow ostriches for giraffes—a god-send,
indeed, Negoro!—I no longer knew what to
invent. Besides, I well saw that my young friend
no longer accepted my explanations. Then we fell
on elephants’ prints. The hippopotami were
added to the party. And you know, Negoro, hippopotami
and elephants in America are like honest men in the
penitentiaries of Benguela. Finally, to finish
me, there was the old black, who must find forks and
chains at the foot of a tree. Slaves had freed
themselves from them to flee. At the same moment
the lion roared, starting the company, and it is not
easy to pass off that roaring for the mewing of an
inoffensive cat. I then had only time to spring
on my horse and make my way here.”
“I understand,” replied Negoro. “Nevertheless,
I would wish to hold them a hundred miles further
in the province."’
“One does what he can, comrade,” replied
Harris. “As to you, who followed our caravan
from the coast, you have done well to keep your distance.
They felt you were there. There is a certain Dingo
that does not seem to love you. What have you
done to that animal?”
“Nothing,” replied Negoro; “but
before long it will receive a ball in the head.”
“As you would have received one from Dick Sand,
if you had shown ever so little of your person within
two hundred feet of his gun. Ah! how well he
fires, my young friend; and, between you and me, I
am obliged to admit that he is, in his way, a fine
boy.”
“No matter how fine he is, Harris, he will pay
dear for his insolence,” replied Negoro, whose
countenance expressed implacable cruelty.
“Good,” murmured Harris, “my comrade
remains just the same as I have always known him!
Voyages have not injured him!”
