Major Denham Saw Too Late The Peril Into Which He Had Inconsiderately Plunged.

His horse, wounded in to the shoulder, could scarcely support his weight, but the cries of the pursuing Fellatas urged him forward.

At last the animal fell twice, and the second time threw him against a tree, then, frightened by the noise behind, started up and ran off. The Fellatas were instantly up, when four of his companions were stabbed beside him, uttering the most frightful cries. He himself fully expected the same fate, but happily his clothes formed a valuable booty, through which the savages were loath to run their spears. After inflicting some slight wounds, therefore, they stripped him to the skin, and forthwith began to quarrel about the plunder. While they were thus busied, he contrived to slip away, and though hotly pursued, and nearly overtaken, succeeded in reaching a mountain stream, gliding at the bottom of a deep and precipitous ravine. Here he had snatched the young branches issuing from the stump of a large over-hanging tree, in order to let himself down into the water, when beneath his hand, a large siffa, the most dangerous serpent in this country, rose from its coil, as in the very act of darting upon him. Struck with horror, Major Denham lost all recollection, and fell headlong into the water, but the shock revived him, and with three strokes of his arm, he reached the opposite bank, and felt himself for the moment in safety.

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