When Gravesend had been left out of sight Oscar, for the first time since bidding adieu to his native land, began to feel lonely and homesick.

The genial captain had won a place in his heart, and he found it hard to part from him. He felt utterly helpless now that the prop on which he had leaned during the past three weeks had been taken away.

He began to realize, as he had never realized it before, that he had undertaken a journey from which many an older and more experienced person than himself would have shrunk in dismay.

"But it can't be helped," said he to himself. "I told them I would go, and it is too late to back out, even if I felt disposed to do so. If I succeed I shall be able to place nearly five thousand dollars in mother's hands. If I fail it will be nothing more than many a better fellow has done before me. But failure is something I shall not allow myself to think of. If I live I shall succeed."

During the first two days Oscar could gain no idea of the number of passengers the vessel carried.

All the female portion of her living freight—and a large share of the male portion, too—had retired to their staterooms, and given themselves up to that malady which, when it attacks a lady, is called mal de mer, and seasickness when it takes holds of a man.

Those who did not suffer in this way—among whom was Oscar—passed the time in reading, smoking, or lounging about the decks. A most unsociable lot they were, too.

Since taking leave of the captain at Gravesend Oscar had not spoken to anybody except his room-mate,—a burly Englishman,—who, instead of replying to his cheery "Good-morning, sir!" stared at him as if he were astonished at his impudence.

Oscar took the hint, and made the mental resolution that he would not speak again until he was spoken to.

The steamer stopped a short time at Dartmouth, and then turned her prow toward Madeira, which was distant five days' sail.

By this time the most of the passengers had recovered from their indisposition, and began to show themselves on deck.

The appearance of the ladies in their gay costumes made a great change in the looks of things, as well as in the conduct of the men. Pipes and books were thrown aside, little cliques were established here and there, the members of which, being drawn together by kindred tastes, were ever afterward to be seen in company, and soon Oscar was surrounded by noisy, laughing people who seemed to be enjoying themselves, but who paid no sort of attention to him.

The boy was socially inclined, but he did not dare to speak to anybody for fear of being repulsed. He might have secured friends at once by showing his letters, but that was not his way of doing things. He did not care to publish his business to the whole ship's company, for there was no one on board who could have the least possible interest in it—at least he thought so. He passed some of the time in reading, and the rest in watching the flying-fish as they arose in the air to escape the jaws of their dreaded enemies, the albecore and skip-jack.

For once the Bay of Biscay was as smooth as a mill-pond, and after a pleasant run down the coast of Portugal Madeira was reached on time.

As some hours were to be spent here, Oscar went ashore, took a look about the quaint old town, feasted on fruits, and dined sumptuously at the hotel.

When the vessel again turned her prow seaward it was for a voyage of twenty-three days. She was not to touch land again until she reached the Cape, unless she was blown ashore.

The last object of interest she passed was the Peak of Teneriffe, and when that had been left out of sight the long voyage was fairly begun.

On the second day out from Madeira Oscar became aware that he was an object of interest to a passenger whom he had not seen before since leaving Gravesend. He was a dapper little fellow, apparently about thirty years of age, with a haughty, imperious face, and long, wavy whiskers, which he stroked with an air of the greatest complacency.

He wore a gold eyeglass and the most ridiculous little skull-cap imaginable. Why he should adopt that style of head-piece under that broiling sun (they were now beginning to experience tropical weather, and the fruits they had taken on board at Madeira were most acceptable) Oscar could not imagine.

He was seated under an awning, attended by his servant, who, having just handed him an "ice" which he had brought from the bar, took his stand behind his master's chair, and awaited further orders.

The latter took a sip at his glass, and then he looked at Oscar.

"Where in the world have I seen that man before?" said the boy to himself, closing his book and fixing his eyes on a Portuguese man-o'-war which had just spread its tiny sail to the breeze. "His face is certainly familiar, but where I have—— I wonder if I didn't camp near him the second night after I left Ike Barker's ranch? I did!" said Oscar, slapping his book upon his knee. "It's Colonel Dunhaven. Hallo!"

This exclamation was called forth by the actions of the colonel and his servant, who conferred together for a few minutes, looking at Oscar all the while, and then the man left his position behind his master's chair, and came over to the boy's side of the vessel.

"Colonel Dunhaven presents his compliments, and wants to know if he can have a few words with you," said the lackey.

It was right on the point of Oscar's tongue to say that if the colonel wanted to speak to him he could come where he was, but he didn't say it. He picked up his chair, and moved over to the other side of the deck, where the colonel was sitting.

"Aw!" said the latter as Oscar placed his chair to suit him and seated himself in it, "I think I have seen you before."

(The colonel pronounced the last word as though it were spelled befoah.)

"I was thinking the same in regard to yourself," replied Oscar. "If I am not mistaken, I saw you in America last winter. You were with a party in search of buffaloes."

"Aw, I was there! Beastly country that. The common people have not the remotest idea of the propriety of things. They are altogether too independent!"

"Those plains-guides and hunters are a very independent body of men," answered Oscar; "and when one goes among them he must conform to their customs or suffer for it."

"They're a beastly lot!" said the colonel. "They don't know how to treat a gentleman. My object in asking you over here was to inquire if you secured any game during that trip."

"I did. I could have filled all your wagons, alone and unaided."

"Did you see any bison?"

"Yes," replied Oscar, "I saw thousands of them, as I told you that night; but my guide was in so great a hurry to reach the shelter of the hills that I could not stop to secure a specimen. He was afraid of being snowed up. When I returned in the spring there were none to be seen. They had all gone south."

"Well, I and my party never saw one!" exclaimed the colonel angrily. "Those treacherous guides of ours kept us out on the open plain until we were overtaken by a buzzard——"

"Blizzard," corrected Oscar.

"Aw!" said the colonel, who seemed rather surprised at the interruption. "Well, whatever the right name is, we were almost frozen, and it was only after great difficulty and terrible suffering that we got back to the little collection of shanties at Julesburg, by courtesy called a fort. Then our guides coolly informed us that if we would come out there again, and leave what they were pleased to call our airs behind us, they would show us where we could kill more game than our horses could draw away. Did you ever hear of such impertinence? I'll never go back to that country, where every boor one meets considers himself the peer of any gentleman in the land. I am now going on a sporting excursion into the interior of Africa."

As the colonel said this he assumed an air of importance, and looked at Oscar to see what he thought about it.

It was plain, too, that he was talking for the benefit of a party of ladies—who had just then come up and taken their stand under the awning—all of whom turned and looked at the colonel as these words fell on their ears.

"There's just where I am going," said Oscar quietly.

"It is?" cried the colonel, elevating his eyebrows and allowing his eyeglass to fall out of its place. "What business have you got there? Why don't you stay in your own country?"

"If I had been disposed to be impertinent, or to stick my nose into business that did not concern me, I might have asked you that question when I saw you in America hunting for the buffaloes that you never found," replied Oscar.

"Aw!" said the colonel, who saw the point. "Are you trying to chaff me?"

"No, sir. I spoke in sober earnest."

"It is very extraordinary," said the colonel, languidly accepting his eyeglass, which his servant hastened to pick up and restore to him. "How are you going? I am going alone with my own establishment, which I shall purchase at Durban."

"I am going in the same way," answered Oscar.

"Aw! But I have had experience, my dear fellow, and you have not," said the colonel. "I once belonged to the Honorable East India Company's service, and have hunted tigers in the wilds of Hindustan—tigers, do you hear?"

"And I have hunted grizzly bears in the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains," replied Oscar, who could scarcely refrain from laughing.

"But a bear is not to be compared to a tiger in strength and ferocity, you know, young fellow."

"I am not so sure of that. If you are at all posted, you must know that some naturalists contend that if the grizzly was allotted his proper place in the animal kingdom he would be called the king of beasts instead of the lion."

"It's all the merest nonsense. Why, an old army officer—a college chum of mine—once told me that he had seen a lion trot off with a good-sized heifer in his mouth, carrying it as easily as a cat carries a rat!"

"I don't doubt it; but the bear family do not carry their prey as the felidÆ do. They drag it along the ground if it is heavy, or carry it between their paws if it is light. My guide told me that he had seen a grizzly weighing a thousand pounds drag a buffalo weighing eighteen hundred a distance of two miles."

"Aw! he was guilty of the most barefaced mendacity! Another ice, Roberts, and then I will retire to my stateroom."

This was a hint that the colonel desired the interview brought to a close, so Oscar picked up his chair and walked away.

"He will never have a chance to repeat that," thought the boy, while his face burned with indignation. "The next time he wants to see me he can come where I am. So Big Thompson was guilty of lying, was he? I am of the opinion that there would not be much left of you, my fine gentleman, if he had heard you say so."

The colonel did not trouble him any more, and Oscar was glad of it. He seemed to be a thoroughly selfish as well as a very conceited person, and the boy wanted nothing to do with him.

Still he did not lack for company. The passengers began to inquire who that modest young fellow was who always kept by himself, and seemed to be acquainted with no one on board, and one day the captain, prompted by curiosity, entered into conversation with him, during which he heard some things that made him wonder.

The name of Captain Sterling proved to be an "open sesame," for every passenger on board had heard of that celebrated hunter and traveller, although none of them were personally acquainted with him.

But his name was full of influence. It secured Oscar a seat at the captain's table, and brought him to the notice of a select circle, who never grew weary of listening to what the boy had to say regarding the plains and their inhabitants.

The time never hung heavily on Oscar's hands after that. The days were spent on deck in social converse, and the evenings in the cabin, listening to lectures and singing, or in witnessing amateur theatricals.

The colonel looked on in surprise, but made no effort to renew his acquaintance with Oscar. He was afraid the latter might offer to accompany him on his hunting expedition.

At last, much to the regret of Oscar, who wished that the voyage might be indefinitely prolonged, Table Mountain came into view. As there was no table-cloth on it, the vessel moved into the harbor, and in a few hours was safely moored to the wharf.