The watchers in the cabin by the beach heard the sound of his
voice growing ever fainter and fainter, until at last it was
swallowed up by the myriad noises of the primeval wood.
When Professor Archimedes Q. Porter and his assistant,
Samuel T. Philander, after much insistence on the part of the
latter, had finally turned their steps toward camp, they were
as completely lost in the wild and tangled labyrinth of the
matted jungle as two human beings well could be, though
they did not know it.
It was by the merest caprice of fortune that they headed
toward the west coast of Africa, instead of toward Zanzibar
on the opposite side of the dark continent.
When in a short time they reached the beach, only to find
no camp in sight, Philander was positive that they were north
of their proper destination, while, as a matter of fact they
were about two hundred yards south of it.
It never occurred to either of these impractical theorists to
call aloud on the chance of attracting their friends' attention.
Instead, with all the assurance that deductive reasoning from
a wrong premise induces in one, Mr. Samuel T. Philander
grasped Professor Archimedes Q. Porter firmly by the arm
and hurried the weakly protesting old gentleman off in the
direction of Cape Town, fifteen hundred miles to the south.
When Jane and Esmeralda found themselves safely behind
the cabin door the Negress's first thought was to barricade
the portal from the inside.
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