"Sure an' 'tis me last chance, sorr," cried Barney, cheerfully consenting. "A sea voyage does wonders for some. There was Terence O'Bally, now, as thin as a lath in the ould counthry; he went to Australia, and by the powers! when he came back to say 'God bless you' to his ould mother, she did not know him at all at all, he was so full in the flesh, sorr. Sure an' I'll come wid ye wid the greatest pleasure in the world, and plase the pigs I'll fatten like Terence. Only wan thing, sorr; ye would not have any inshuperable objection to Pat, sorr?"
"Who on earth's Pat?"
"Just a dog, sorr; a little darlint uv a terrier no fatter than me, sorr; as kind an' gentle as wan uv the blessed angels. He has as poor appetite, sorr, an' sleeps on my coat, so he will not cost ye much for board and lodging. And I would thank ye kindly, sorr, if I might but go home to 'm an' say, 'Pat, me darlint, times is changed. We are in luck, Pat. There's a nice, kind, fat, jolly American gentleman that takes very kindly to dogs an' Irishmen, an'——'"
"There then, that'll do," said Mr. Martindale, laughing. "Bring Pat, if you like. But he'll have to go if he proves a nuisance."
And so Pat became a member of the party. And he lay curled up now in the bottom of the canoe, and cocked an eye as Barney declared with emphasis that the Congo was a "mighty foine river, sure an' 'tis only fair to say so; but by all the holy powers 'tis not to be compared wid the Shannon, blessed be its name!"
It was Pat that sprang first ashore when the paddlers with a resounding "Yo!" drove the canoe alongside a turfy platform by the bank, worn level by the treading of innumerable feet. The dog uttered one sharp bark, faced round to the river, and stood with ears pricked and stumpy tail wagging, to watch his master step to land.
"Now, Nando," said Mr. Martindale, when all were ashore, "lead the way. Not too fast: and not too near skeeters or jiggers."
"Berrah well, sah; me go fust; frighten skeeters all away."
Leaving ten of the crew in the canoe, the rest of the party set off under Nando's guidance. He led them through the mass of tall grass that lined the river bank, across a swampy stretch of heath, where a narrow path wound in and out among trees large and small, beset by dense undergrowth and climbing plants. Insects innumerable flitted and buzzed around the travellers, provoking lively exclamations from Mr. Martindale and Jack, and many a vicious snap from the terrier, but leaving Barney almost untouched. Once a wild pig dashed across the path and plunged into the thicket, with Pat barking frantically at its heels. Here and there Mr. Martindale caught sight of red-legged partridge and quail, and sighed for his rifle. Parrots squawked overhead; once, from the far distance, muffled by the foliage, came the trumpet of an elephant; but signs of humanity there were none, save the meandering track.
At length, however, they came to a clear open space amid the trees, where, on a low hill, stood a crude open hut, consisting of upright supports surmounted by a roof of bamboos and leaves, and partly walled by cloth.