П’ятнадцятирічний капітан

The Bad Roads of Angola

           Weldon,"repliedTom;"acampor,perhaps,avillage,andourcaptainwishedtoreconnoiteritbeforeleadingustoit."

           Mrs.Weldonwassatisfiedwiththisreply.Threeminutesafter,Dick

           Sandwasreturning.

           "Come!come!"hecried,inavoicewhichexpressedhisentiresatisfaction.

           "Thecampisabandoned?"askedTom.

           "Itisnotacamp,"repliedtheyoungnovice;"itisnotavillage.

           Theyareant-hills!"

           "Ant-hills!"exclaimedCousinBenedict,whomthatwordaroused.

           "Yes,Mr.Benedict,butant-hillstwelvefeethigh,atleast,andinwhichweshallendeavortohideourselves."

           "Butthen,"repliedCousinBenedict,"thosewouldbeant-hillsofthewarliketermiteorofthedevouringtermite.Onlythoseingeniousinsectsraisesuchmonuments,whichthegreatestarchitectswouldnotdisown."

           "Whethertheybetermitesornot,Mr.Benedict,"repliedDickSand,"wemustdislodgethemandtaketheirplace."

           "Theywilldevourus.Theywillbedefendingtheirrights."

           "Forward!Forward!"

           "But,waitnow!"saidCousinBenedictagain."Ithoughtthoseant-hillsonlyexistedinAfrica."

           "Forward!"exclaimedDickSand,forthelasttime,withasortofviolence.HewassomuchafraidthatMrs.Weldonmighthearthelastwordpronouncedbytheentomologist.

           TheyfollowedDickSandwithallhaste.Afuriouswindhadsprungup.Largedropscrackledontheground.Inafewmomentsthesquallsofwindwouldbecomeunbearable.Soononeofthoseconeswhichstoodontheplainwasreached.Nomatterhowthreateningthetermitesmightbe,thehumanbeingsmustnothesitate

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