“Who are you? What is it you want?” shouted a voice from the other side.
“Andrew Crawford and Leonard Hyslop with the black Mango. We want to cross the river and join you,” I shouted in return.
“Welcome! welcome! Move to the right! There is an easy passage. We will go that way and show you. Captain Hyslop and several of his party are here.” The last words which reached my ears were the first certain intimation I had that my cousin Stanley was in the camp near us. I earnestly hoped that his sisters and David were there also. As we rode along we heard a number of voices, and saw men with torches moving rapidly along the side of the stream. Presently we came to a somewhat wider part, where the banks were very low, and where I should have expected to find a ford. At the same time several people were seen with torches crossing it. We went on to meet them, Mango leading the ox, which advanced without hesitation. We were already in the water when I heard Stanley’s voice.
“Andrew, my dear fellow, is it you? and have you really brought poor Leo?” he exclaimed. “We had given you all up for lost!”
“I have brought him,” I said; “but where is David?”
“He is in the camp; but having turned in, I suppose was not dressed in time to join us,” he replied.
We had not time to exchange many words while crossing the stream; but as soon as we had got safe on dry ground I gave him a brief account of our adventures, and expressed my anxiety to have Leo placed under David’s care without delay.
“And Kate and Bella!” I asked. “Are they with you, and well?”
“Yes, I am thankful to say so,” he answered, “though they have had to go through much hardship, no little danger, and great fatigue; indeed, I do not know what would have occurred had not our friend Silva, and a party he had collected, arrived sooner than we expected. He had fallen in with a trader making an exploring expedition further north than any of his calling have hitherto reached, and, offering him a handsome remuneration, induced him to come on with his waggon and several good horses, in the hope of meeting us. The trader—Donald Fraser by name, a Scotchman—having got into this unknown region, would not consent to proceed further, and was on the point of turning south again, when Silva induced him to remain another week, while Chickango went on to try and get tidings of us. We had, meantime, started south, and happily fell in with him, when reduced to extremities, about two days’ journey from the camp. I am not surprised at our friend Donald’s unwillingness to proceed, for he had fallen in with some rough customers, who were more likely to rob him of his goods than pay for them. However, by the exertion of the diplomatic talents of our friend Silva, they got free, and now, I am thankful to say, we are all well, and ready to march southward. Kate and Bella have been dreadfully cut up about Leo’s loss, and yours, too, Andrew. But what has become of Natty? I hope the poor boy is not dead?”
I satisfied Stanley on that point.