I listen. Nothing! Yes! An animal is passing through the reeds. I am unarmed! I shall defend myself, nevertheless. My life may be useful to Mrs. Weldon, to my companions.
I look through the profound darkness. There is no moon. The night is extremely dark.
Two eyes shine in the darkness, among the papyrus—two eyes of a hyena or a leopard. They disappear—reappear.
At last there is a rustling of the bushes. An animal springs upon me!
I am going to cry out, to give the alarm. Fortunately, I was able to restrain myself. I cannot believe my eyes! It is Dingo! Dingo, who is near me! Brave Dingo! How is it restored to me? How has it been able to find me again? Ah! instinct! Would instinct be sufficient to explain such miracles of fidelity? It licks my hands. Ah! good dog, now my only friend, they have not killed you, then!
It understands me.
I return its caresses.
It wants to bark.
I calm it. It must not be heard.
Let it follow the caravan in this way, without being seen, and perhaps——But what! It rubs its neck obstinately against my hands. It seems to say to me: "Look for something." I look, and I feel something there, fastened to its neck. A piece of reed is slipped under the collar, on which are graven those two letters, S.V., the mystery of which is still inexplicable to us.