Chapter One. I was just sixteen when I ran away to sea. I did not do so because I had been treated unkindly at home. On the contrary, I left behind me a fond and indulgent father, a kind and gentle mother, sisters and brothers who loved me, and who lamented for me long after I was gone. But no one had more cause to regret this act of filial disobedience than I myself. I soon repented of what I had... more...

PREFACE. It has been my object in this work to give as clear an account as I was able of tracts of country previously unexplored, with their river systems, natural productions, and capabilities; and to bring before my countrymen, and all others interested in the cause of humanity, the misery entailed by the slave-trade in its inland phases; a subject on which I and my companions are the first who have... more...

On Board the “Osprey”—Off the Coast of Africa. A dense mist hung over the ocean; the sky above our heads was of a grey tint; the water below our feet of the colour of lead. Not a ripple disturbed its mirror-like surface, except when now and then a covey of flying fish leaped forth to escape from their pursuers, or it was clove by the fin of a marauding shark. We knew that we were not far off the... more...

CHAPTER I. THE EXPEDITION. It was in the autumn of the year 1828, that an elderly and infirm gentleman was slowly pacing up and down in a large dining-room. He had apparently finished his dinner, although it was not yet five o'clock, and the descending sun shone bright and warm through the windows, which were level with the ground, and from which there was a view of a spacious park, highly... more...

PROLOGUE. It was November in London. The great city was buried under a dank, yellow fog. Traffic was temporarily checked; foot passengers groped their way by the light of the street lamps, and the hoarse shouts of the link boys running before cabs and carriages with blazing torches rang at intervals above the muffled rumble of countless wheels. In the coffee-room of a quiet hotel on the Strand a young... more...

The Expedition. It was in the autumn of the year 1828, that an elderly and infirm gentleman was slowly pacing up and down in a large dining-room. He had apparently finished his dinner, although it was not yet five o’clock, and the descending sun shone bright and warm through the windows, which were level with the ground, and from which there was a view of a spacious park, highly ornamented with old... more...

Begins to Unfold the Tale of the Lions by Describing the Lion of the Tale. We trust, good reader, that it will not cause you a feeling of disappointment to be told that the name of our hero is Brown—Tom Brown. It is important at the beginning of any matter that those concerned should clearly understand their position, therefore we have thought fit, even at the risk of throwing a wet blanket over you,... more...

TOM WANTS EXCITEMENT   “Have you anything special to do to-night, Ned?” asked Tom Swift, the well-known inventor, as he paused in front of his chum’s window, in the Shopton National Bank. “No, nothing in particular,” replied the bank clerk, as he stacked up some bundles of bills. “Why do you ask?” “I wanted you to come over to the house for a while.” “Going to have a surprise... more...

"Do you know, Nell," said Stas Tarkowski to his friend, a littleEnglish girl, "that yesterday the police came and arrested the wife ofSmain, the overseer, and her three children,—that Fatma who severaltimes called at the office to see your father and mine." And little Nell, resembling a beautiful picture, raised her greenish eyes to Stas and asked with mingled surprise and fright:... more...

PREFACE MOST of these stories were written on the veldt; at odd times, in out- of-the-way prospecting camps, in the wilds of the Kalahari Desert, or of that equally little-known borderland between Klein Namaqualand, and Gordonia, Cape Colony, and what was at that time known as German South- West Africa. Four of them appeared a few years back in The State an illustrated magazine now unhappily defunct;... more...