“I am not sure that we are not in Central Africa,” said Bevis. “There are hundreds of miles of reeds in Africa, and as we have crossed the Nile very likely that’s where we are.”
“It’s just like it,” said Mark, “I am sure it’s Africa.”
“Then there ought to be lions in the reeds,” said Bevis, “or elephants. Keep your spear ready.”
They went on again a little way.
“I want to sit down,” said Mark.
“So do I,” said Bevis; “in Africa, people generally rest in the middle of the day for fear of sunstrokes.”
“So they do; then we ought to rest.”
“We can’t sit down here,” said Bevis; “it is so wet, and it does not smell very nice: we might have the fever, you know, if we stopped still long.”
“Let’s go to the hedge,” said Mark, pointing to the hedge which surrounded the shore and was a great way on their left hand. “Perhaps there is a prairie there. And I am so thirsty, and there is no water we can drink; give me an apple.”
“But we must not go back,” said Bevis; “I can’t have that; it would never do to let the expedition fail.”