CHAPTER XI: A HOSTILE TRIBE.
Every step that he went the ground grew softer and more swampy, and he at length determined to push on no farther in this direction, but turning to his left to try and gain higher ground, and then to continue on the line he had marked out for himself.
His progress was now very slow.

The bush was thick and close, thorny plants and innumerable creepers continually barred his way, and the necessity for constantly looking up through the trees to catch a glimpse of the sun, which was his only guide, added to his difficulty.

At length, when his watch told him it was eleven o'clock, he came to a standstill, the sun being too high overhead to serve him as a reliable guide.

He had now been walking for nearly six hours, and he was utterly worn out and exhausted, having had no food since his midday meal on the previous day.

He was devoured with thirst, having merely rinsed his mouth in the black and poisonous water of the swamps he had crossed.