Kate's quick ear recognized the familiar sound, and she crept to my side. She told me her mother was in the hut, and close by it were half a dozen Indians, supposed to be watching their captives, but actually all were sound asleep. Kate had been placed by her mother's side, but thirst had tempted her to try and reach the spring, which she had noticed when they went into camp. Everyone of the Indians were asleep. Worn out with the night's ride in going down to attack the settlement, and with the long day's retreat, thinking it impossible for white men to follow them, they had given themselves up to rest.

Everything was in my favor, but I knew I had not a moment to waste. Leaving Kate at the spring, I noiselessly crept to the hut, and to the side of Mrs. Harris, telling her to follow me and I would try to rescue Kate and herself. In a few moments we joined Kate, and then we made our way quietly to where I had left my horse, behind the manzanita bushes, and were preparing for flight. Now, for the first time, I felt what an undertaking I had on my hands. I knew the tricks and stratagems of the Indians, having been a prisoner among them for several months; and for my personal safety I had little fear, as alone I thought I could easily make my escape; but to get safely away from an Apache camp with two women and only one horse was altogether another thing.

Cautiously I guided my companions out of the underbrush, led the horse to a smooth place, and soon both women were firmly seated upon and behind the saddle, and with an anxiety I never before experienced I led the horse down the ravine and away from the Apache camp. I expected they soon would discover the escape of their captives, for the sleep of an Indian, however much exhausted, is never long undisturbed.

We could not have been more than fifteen minutes on our flight when the silence was broken by that blood-curdling noise, an Apache yell. One of the watchers had wakened, and missed the captives. In a moment the whole band were in motion, running wildly about near camp. Not a sound escaped any of us. We hastened on a few rods. I then turned up a narrow, deep ravine, which a former trip had made familiar to me,

Soon we heard returning footsteps. I crept to a spot where I could count the Indians as they passed the head of the narrow ravine, for I was anxious to know if any were left behind to guard and watch the trail. They soon came up, and as their dark forms filed by I counted only five; I thought six passed before. I listened awhile, but hearing no more footsteps, I concluded I had either miscounted, or one was watching on the trail for us. Either way, it was no use delaying. Going back to my companions, I whispered my fears, and told them if we did meet one of the Indians I should stop and fight him, while they were to press on fast as possible.

Once more my companions were mounted upon the faithful horse. Handing Mrs. Harris the bridle, I led the horse by the picket rope. Turning from the ravine, we were soon on our way down the main path. For nearly a mile we made good progress. Often we looked back, but there seemed to be no pursuit. Everything was quiet, and I was thinking I should get my charge into safe quarters, after all, without a fight with the enemy, and that I certainly had miscounted the Indians when they went out. Just then we reached a point where the trail narrowed to a few feet in width, and turned around a sharp, projecting rock. Suddenly a dark form sprung out into the path. Here was the missing Indian. He attempted to seize me by the throat, missed his aim, and fastened upon my coat collar. Dropping the lariat, I called to my companions to hurry on, and instantly closed with the Indian. Almost immediately after the struggle began we slipped from the narrow pathway and rolled down a steep bank, and, unluckily for me, when we reached the bottom the Indian was uppermost.

For a few moments things looked pretty serious for me. The Apache was a large, powerful

fellow, almost destitute of clothing, and his body perfectly smeared with grease. We both had our knives drawn, and already I had received several ngly wounds about the head and shoulders, when I contrived to seize the Indian by the right wrist, thus preventing any further use of the knife in that hand. But he had my right wrist firmly grasped in his left hand, and for some moments neither of us could do much harm to the other. Yet the Indian had the best of it, for his weight was becoming almost unbearable, and I was growing weak from loss of blood. I knew my doom was sealed if I did not succeed in throwing him off. Despair lent me strength, and, unexpectedly to my enemy, I struggled violently, and succeeded in getting the upper side. Then I dashed my head down upon the face of my foe, the blows falling thick and fast. This to the Apache was a new method of fighting, who, surprised and stunned by the hard, rapid blows, let go my hand to protect his face. A moment more, and the Indian was in the death struggle; my knife had penetrated a vital part.

I lost no time in getting out of the gully into which we had fallen, and hastened after my companions, soon overtaking them. By this time I had grown so weak from loss of blood that I could not keep pace with the walking horse, and Kate

I

insisted upon my taking her place upon the animal. At sunrise we reached the soldiers' encampment. Mrs. Harris and Kate were worn out with fatigue, but both had escaped without a bruise, though severely scratched by the bushes through which the Indians had taken them; yet, after a few days' rest they looked quite themselves. was covered with blood and suffering intensely from wounds. My brother soldiers bathed and dressed my wounds, and cared for me with the utmost tenderness. The lieutenant in command concluded, as the ladies had been rescued, that it was best to return to Mesilla and leave the ladies and myself, and then, if the commanding officer thought best, the company would return and follow the Indians into the mountains; so that evening found me comfortably resting in the hospital. The ladies had found a home in some of the officers' families.

For three months I was in the hospital. As soon as I was able to be about I was court-martialed for breach of discipline, but in consideration of my having rescued the two ladies I was let off with a reprimand. A month after I was promoted for bravery, receiving a second lieutenant's commission, and the next week the commanding officer gave a large party in my honor. During the evening Kate and myself were married.

RICHARD F. BURTON, the most accomplished of African travelers who have written in English, spent three months in Dahomey in 1863-64, on a mission to the King, and recorded what he saw in a book, that is best characterized in his own words: "My principal object, it may be frankly owned, has been to show, in its true lights, the African kingdom best known by name to Europe. But in detailing its mixture of horrors and meanness, in this pitiless picture of its mingled puerility and brutality, of ferocity and politeness, I trust that none can rightfully charge me with exaggeration, and I can acquit myself of all malice."

Things change slowly, if they change, in Africa, and Burton's account is corroborated by subsesequent travelers, who have been able to see, in some instances, details that were not brought before their predecessor, but have added nothing to the main outline of his picture.

The extent and population of Dahomey have been grossly exaggerated, in books and on the maps. The country is often represented as nearly a square, of about 200 miles each way. It is, in fact, about 100 miles in length from northto south, with an average breadth of 40 miles, so that its area is, at farthest, 4,000 square miles. Hemmed in by hostile communities, European and African, it will "crumble to pieces," as Burton says, "under the first heavy shock." The population, rated by M. Wallon at 900,000, and by Commodore Wilmot at 180,000, is put by Burton at 150,000, and by M. Malavialle, the latest French authority, at from 100,000 to 180,000.

The organization of the kingdom dates from the beginning of the seventeenth century, with the gathering of settlers about the town of Allada, which is still the me

tropolis of Dahomey. The King is not permitted to rear his palace in Abomey until he has taken his seat on the stool of his ancestors in the holy city of Allada, no longer a city, but a mere local market place.

In 1725 the Dahomans conquered the country as far as the seacoast and established themselves at Whydah, which soon became the great port for the slave trade, with its Portuguese, English and French factories. With the suppression of the slave trade, Whydah and the kingdom itself became impoverished, and the Europeans are closing in and dividing the land. Until the year 1885 Dahomey acknowledged the protectorate of Portugal, but this country then withdrew her claim, and since that time the predominant

Boggecon Agbado

ABOMEY

R

Région's inexplorées

NDE

A

OSSESSIONS

Aguisalam

A

ELY Quito Allada

Sein

Agomé Séva

N Ahgolon

takrakou

Tollyo

Betikou

Chemins.... Limites..............

Kilometres.

20 30 40 50

Régions inexplorées

dYA U MIE

Dambou

des Carmen

Sokou Zow Agome

R

m Limite Anglaise

Quémelokon

Panous Agonow TO

N Karife

Adjara

Blobo

BENIN

30' EMogu Se

The only well-known portion of the country is the coast, which is uninviting all along the Gulf of Guinea.

The sea is shallow and of a yellowish color, derived from the organic matter, often fetid, which is held in suspension, and full of pestilential miasma. This matter is gradually deposited and forms bars which make the approaches difficult and dangerous. The shore is monotonous and low, so low that the watch on shipboard cannot

who are recruited by young girls, captured on feast days; and about thirty great snakes arc kept there and revered. If one escapes, it is brought back with every sign of reverence and respect, and to kill one is an act of impiety.

The European town is composed of the factories, Portuguese, English, German and French, and the dwellings of their agents and employés, many of them the descendants of former slaves. The chief commerce is in palm oil, which is the best on the Gulf of Guinea, and in December and

make it out at ten or twelve miles off; and behind this strip of sandy coast is a network of marshes and bayous, communicating with the sea by channels contantly changing and often obstructed.

Whydah (called also Fida, Hwedah, Juda and Ajuda) has two divisions: the Dahoman, about two miles inland, and the European, on the shore. The former stands on an island between two marshes, crossed by raised pathways. It is divided into several quarters, or salam, each with its superintendent and his men. The town is under the protection of the serpent, and has a

January the roads are crowded with shipping. The anchorage is bad, and the hulls of wrecked vessels are always to be seen; and the sharks are noted for their ferocity. If a boat upsets, the negroes swim to land, and then call the roll, and nearly always some one is missing. The population of Whydah is about 20,000.

The second important place on the coast is Kotonou, at the mouth of the channel that unites Lake Denham with the sea. Lake Denham is remarkable for two villages, Avansori and Afotonou, which are built upon piles, like the dwellings of the prehistoric times in Switzerland. It