In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I dare not offer an opinion,” I answered. “It is possible, just possible, and we must hope for the best.”

Still we waited, looking in the direction we had last seen the two boys, anxiously hoping that they might reappear; but in vain. At length I began to feel somewhat faint, and Natty at last exclaimed, “Oh, I am so hungry!” It recalled us to the necessity of trying to find something on which we could support life. The island was so small, that had any birds been on it they would have flown away when we landed. I had, fortunately, a tinder-box in my pocket, so that we might light a fire if we could find anything to cook. At length Natty discovered a small fruit like a plum, growing on a tree covered with dark green leaves. He called me to it, and on examining it it struck me that it must be the moyela, which David had found near the banks of the river only a day or two before. This would at all events assist to satisfy the pangs of hunger, though it might not do to support us. I helped Natty up the tree, and he threw down to me as many as we thought we should require. We then sat down on the ground and discussed them, but the recollection of Leo made us too sad to talk.

“I am very thirsty,” said Natty, “and must get a draught of water.”

He went to the shore, and was stooping down to fill his hand full, when at that instant I saw a ripple in the water rapidly approaching. I had just time to spring up and pull him violently back, when a huge snout projected above the surface. The monster, startled by the fearful shriek Natty set up, and the loud cries I uttered, did not venture to approach, and slunk back again beneath the surface. I confess I was completely unnerved, and stood trembling all over, while Natty would have sunk to the ground had I not supported him. It was some minutes before I recovered.

“I must not again run the risk of being caught like that. I ought to have remembered the crocodiles,” he said at last. “But I say, Andrew, don’t you think it very likely that the creature may have its nest somewhere about the island? I will have a hunt.”

Forthwith we began poking about in all directions with pieces of bamboo—a small grove of which grew on the island.

“Here is a hole,” cried Natty at length, “and full of eggs, too. We will pay the crocodile off now for the fright he gave us.”

I confess at first I could scarcely bring myself to think of eating crocodile’s eggs. Natty had no such scruple. We filled our hats, and brought them to the beach, where, clearing away the grass to prevent an accident, we soon had a fire burning. As we had no pot to boil our eggs, we put them into the fire to roast, stirring them round and round with a stick. In spite of my repugnance, so excessive was my hunger that as soon as we thought the eggs were done, and Natty had pulled them out, I cracked one. The yolk alone had set, but that looked tolerably tempting; and on putting it to my mouth I could scarcely distinguish it, except by a peculiar flavour, from the yolk of a bird’s egg. A couple, however, satisfied me.

“They will last the longer for not being too nice,” observed Natty; “and we do not know how long we may have to stay here.”

“We must think of means of getting away,” I said; “for it is not likely that any canoes will pass by, and it is very certain that we must not attempt to swim on shore, though, were it only for the distance, I think I could do it, and carry you on my back.”