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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Benita, an African romance"


Those that returned were the last, for often they appeared over those
that descended. Why had these dead people returned, Benita wondered.
The stair had ended; now she was in a kind of natural cave, for its
sides and roof were rugged; moreover, water trickled and dripped from
them. It was not very large, and it smelt horribly of mud and other
things. Again she searched by the feeble light of her candle, but could
see no exit. Suddenly she saw something else, however, for stepping
on what she took to be a rock, to her horror it moved beneath her. She
heard a snap as of jaws, a violent blow upon the leg nearly knocked
her off her feet, and as she staggered backwards she saw a huge and
loathsome shape rushing away into the darkness. The rock that she had
trodden on was a crocodile which had its den here! With a little scream
she retreated to her stair. Death she had expected--but to be eaten by
crocodiles!
Yet as Benita stood there panting a blessed hope rose in her breast. If
a crocodile came in there it must also get out, and where such a great
creature could go, a woman would be able to follow. Also, she must be
near the water, since otherwise it could never have chosen this hole for
its habitation. She collected her courage, and having clapped her hands
and waved the lantern about to scare any alligators that might still be
lurking there, hearing and seeing nothing more, she descended to where
she had trodden upon the reptile.


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