We all sit up and listen. Then it comes again, a slow, majestic sound,
that thrills us to the marrow.

"To-morrow by ten o'clock," I say, "we ought, if the Captain is not out
in his reckoning, which I think very probable, to make this mysterious
rock with a man's head, and begin our shooting."

"And begin our search for the ruined city and the Fire of Life,"
corrected Leo, taking his pipe from his mouth, and laughing a little.

"Nonsense!" I answered. "You were airing your Arabic with that man at
the tiller this afternoon. What did he tell you? He has been trading
(slave-trading, probably) up and down these latitudes for half of his
iniquitous life, and once landed on this very 'man' rock. Did he ever
hear anything of the ruined city or the caves?"

"No," answered Leo. "He says that the country is all swamp behind, and
full of snakes, especially pythons, and game, and that no man lives
there. But then there is a belt of swamp all along the East African
coast, so that does not go for much."

"Yes," I said, "it does--it goes for malaria. You see what sort of an
opinion these gentry have of the country. Not one of them will go with
us. They think that we are mad, and upon my word I believe that they are
right. If ever we see old England again I shall be astonished. However,
it does not greatly matter to me at my age, but I am anxious for you,
Leo, and for Job. It's a Tom Fool's business, my boy."

"All right, Uncle Horace. So far as I am concerned, I am willing to take