Charles Bramble looked carefully for a few moments at the companion of his long and dangerous journey.  He saw before him the person of a negro, slender, agile, rather below the usual height, and clothed after the style of the settlers, in pants and jacket, but with a red handkerchief bound upon the head.  In a coarse, leathern belt, the negro wore a short double-edged knife and a pistol, while in his hand he held a short, sharp spear, which served for staff and weapon both, and was designed more particularly for defence against the wild animals that infested the jungle in all directions.

The guide was painted in the face after fantastic style often adopted by the shore tribes in Africa, in alternate lines of red and yellow and white, so as to give a most strange and inhuman expression to the countenance.  But Charles Bramble was familiar with these tricks of the race, and saluting the guide kindly told him his plans, and asked if he could guide him on the route.  Being assured in the affirmative, he felt satisfied, and the two, by the light of the moon, which was now creeping up in the heavens, commenced their journey, intending, after passing a few leagues, to make up their camp, light their fires to keep off the wild animals, and sleep.

The resting-place was at last found, and after the usual arrangements had been completed, and a circle of fire built around them, the two lay down to sleep.  Fatigue soon closed the eyes of our young adventurer, and he slept soundly, how long he knew not; but after a while he was awakened by the breaking of some decayed branches near him, and partially opened his eyes, half asleep, half conscious, when to his utter amazement he beheld, or fancied he beheld, a dozen pairs of glistening eyes peering at him from out the jungle.  He did not stir, but feigning to be still asleep, he cautiously watched to see what all this meant.  They surely did not belong to wild animals—­those eyes!

He partially turned without moving his body to ascertain if the guide was still by him, but found that he was gone.  There was treachery somewhere—­there was danger about him—­this he seemed to feel instinctively, but still, feigning sleep, he almost held his breath to listen.  He soon learned by his sense of clearing that there were some half dozen or more of negroes near to him, and that he was the subject of their conversation.  He could even detect his guide’s voice among the rest, though the conversation was carried on scarcely above a whisper.  He had on a previous voyage taken much pains to familiarize himself with the language spoken by the shore tribes in the south, and he now had little difficulty in understanding a considerable portion of the remarks which were making by the gang who were secreted in the jungle so near to where he was lying, while he pretended sleep.