In another week he found himself in one of the bleakest and barrenest stretches of country that it is possible to imagine. It was a high plateau, and covered for the most part with stunted bushes and with crimson heath and heather.
Benee climbed a high hill that rose near him, and as he stood on the top thereof, just as the sun in a glory of orange clouds and crimson rose slowly and majestically over the far-off eastern forest, a scene presented itself to him that, savage though he was, caused him for a time to stand mute with admiration and wonder.
Then he remembered what little Peggy told him once in her sweet and serious voice: "Always pray at sunrise".
"Always pray at sunrise,
For 'tis God who makes the day;
When shades of evening gather round
Kneel down again and pray.
And He, who loves His children dear,
Will send some angel bright
To guard you while you're sleeping sound
And watch you all the night."
And on this lonely hill-top Benee did kneel down to pray a simple prayer, while golden clouds were changing to bronze and snowy white, and far off on the forest lands hazy vapours were still stretched across glens and valleys.
As he rose from his knees he could hear, away down beneath him, a wild shout, and gazing in the direction from which it came, he saw seven semi-nude savages hurrying towards the mountain with the evident intention of making him prisoner.
It was terrible odds; but as there was no escape, Benee determined to fight.
As usual, they were armed with bow and arrow and sling.
Indeed, they commenced throwing stones with great precision before they reached the hill-foot, and one of these fell at Benee's feet.
Glad, indeed, was he next minute to find himself in a kind of natural trench which could have been held by twenty men against a hundred.