who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern.
Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more than about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, was Dick Sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him to relax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch.
Worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but they had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry.
"Who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed Dick, the first to rise to his feet.
"It is I," answered Benedict's voies; "I am bitten. Something has bitten me."
"A snake!" exclaimed Mrs. Weldon in alarm.
"No, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; 1 believe it was an orthoptera; I have it all right," he shouted triumphantly.
"Then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace," said Harris.
"Kill it! not for the world! I must have a light, and look at it!"
Dick Sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light. The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect somewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow on the under portion of the body. He looked radiant with delight.
"A diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famous diptera!"
"Is it venomous?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes."
"But tell us its name! what is it?" cried Dick impetuously.
The naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone.
