The Pontine Marshes.—A Change comes over the Party.—The foul Exhalations.—The Sleep of Death.—Dreadful Accident.—Despair of Frank.—A Break-down.—Ingenuity of the Driver.—Resumption of the Journey.

For the first half of the day the boys had been in great spirits. Laughter, noisy conversation, jests, chaff, and uproarious songs had all been intermingled, and the carriage was a miniature Bedlam. But after their stoppage at the wayside inn a change took place, and on resuming their journey, they seemed like a very different company. The air of the marshes now began to act upon them. They felt it to be raw, and chill, and unpleasant. A general feeling of discomfort and a general sensation of gloom pervaded all of them. Bob held out most bravely, and strove to regain the jollity which they had felt before. For a long time his fun and nonsense provoked a laugh; but at length his fun grew fainter, and his nonsense more stupid; and the laughter grew less hearty and more forced, until at length the fun, and the nonsense, and the laughter ceased altogether.

Frank felt upon himself the responsibility of the rest to an unusual degree. He was only a few weeks older than David, but he was far stronger and more mature in many respects. David was a hard student, and perhaps a bit of a book-worm, and had a larger share of the knowledge that may be gained from books; but Frank had seen more of the world, and in all that relates to the practical affairs of common life he was immeasurably superior to David. For this reason Frank often assumed, and very naturally too, the guardianship of the party; and so appropriate was this to him, that the rest tacitly allowed it. As for Uncle Moses, none of them ever regarded him as their protector, but rather as an innocent and simple-hearted being, who himself required protection from them.

Frank, therefore, on this occasion, kept warning the whole party, above all things, not to let themselves go to sleep. He had heard that the air of the Pontine Marshes had a peculiar tendency to send one to sleep; and if one should yield to this, the consequences might be fatal. Fever, he, said, would be sure to follow sleep, that might be indulged in under such circumstances. The anxiety which was created in his own mind by his sense of responsibility was of itself sufficient to keep him awake, and left him to devote all his energies to the task of trying to keep the others awake also, and thus save them from the impending danger.

At first they, all laughed at him; but after a time, as each one felt the drowsiness coming over him, they ceased to laugh. Then they tried to sing. They kept up this for some time. They exhausted all their stock of school songs, nigger songs, patriotic songs, songs sentimental and moral, and finally tried even hymns. But the singing was not a very striking success; there was a lack of spirit in it; and under this depressing sense of languor, the voice of music at last died out.

Singularly enough, the one who felt this drowsiness most strongly was Bob. Frank had not thought of him as being at all likely to fall asleep; but whether it was that his mobile temperament made him more liable to extremes of excitement and dullness, or whether the reaction from his former joviality and noisiness had been greater than that of the rest, certain it is that Bob it was who first showed signs of sleep. His eyes closed, his head nodded, and lifting it again with a start, he blinked around.

"Come, Bob," said Frank, "this won't do. You don't mean to say that you're sleepy."

Bob said nothing. He rubbed his eyes, and yawned.

"Bob," said Frank, "take care of yourself."

"O, I'm all right," said Bob, with a drawl; "never fear about me.
I'm wide awake."

Scarce had he finished this when his eyes closed again, and his head fell forward.

Frank shook him, and Bob raised himself up with an effort at dignified surprise which was, however, a failure.

"You needn't shake a fellow," he said in a husky, sleepy voice.

"But I will shake you," cried Frank.

"Le'—me—'lone," said Bob, in a half whisper, nodding again.

"Here," cried Frank; "this'll never do. Bob! Bob! wake up! Bob!
Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-b! Wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ake u-u-u-u-up!"

But Bob wouldn't wake up. On the contrary, he bobbed his head in a foolish and imbecile way towards Frank, as though seeking unconsciously to find a place on which to rest it. But Frank wouldn't allow anything of the sort He made Bob sit erect, and held him in this way for some time, bawling, yelling, and occasionally shaking him. David and Clive were a little roused by this, and surveyed it with sleepy eyes. Uncle Moses, however, was as wide awake as ever—he had his usual anxiety about the well-being of the boys, and this made sleep out of the question. He now joined his entreaties to those of Frank; and the two, uniting their shouts, succeeded in making considerable uproar.

Still Bob would not wake.

"I'll make him get out and walk," said Frank. "This'll never do.
If he sleeps here, he may never wake again."

Saying this, Frank turned to open the carriage door to call to the driver. As he did so, he loosed his hold of Bob, who, being no longer stayed tip on that side, fell over on Frank's lap with his face downward.

Upon this, Frank turned back, and determined to lift Bob up again.

Shaking him as hard as he could, he yelled in his ears and shouted to him to get up.

Now Bob was asleep, yet in his sleep he had a kind of under consciousness of what was going on. He was stupidly conscious that they were trying to raise him up to an uncomfortable sitting posture—a bolt-upright position. This he was sleepily unwilling to submit to. There wasn't any particular strength in his hands, and his drowsy faculties didn't extend farther down than his head. He felt himself lying on something, and to prevent them from raising him from it, he seized it in his teeth.

"Bo-o-o-ob! Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-b!" yelled Frank. "W-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ake u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-p!"

But Bob wouldn't.

He only held on the tighter with his teeth.

Upon this, Frank seized him with all his strength, and gave Bob a sudden jerk upward, when—

C-r-r-r-r-i-k-k-k-k!—

A sharp, ripping sound was heard, and as Bob's head was pulled up, a long, narrow piece of cloth was exhibited, hanging down from his mouth; and held in his teeth.

Frank looked at it in dismay, and then looked down.

He gave a cry of vexation.

Bob had seized Frank's trousers in his teeth, and as he was pulled up, he held on tight. Consequently the cloth gave way, and there was poor Frank, reduced to rags and tatters, and utterly unpresentable in any decent society.

He gave up Bob in despair, and began to investigate the extent of the ruin that had been wrought in his trousers. It was a bad rent, an irretrievable one, in fact; and all that he could do was to tie his handkerchief around his leg.

Bob now slept heavily, held up by Uncle Moses.

The other boys grew drowsier and drowsier. Frank was just deciding to get out of the carriage and make them all walk for a time, when a sudden event occurred which brought a solution to the problem.

It was a sudden crash.

Down sank the carriage under them, and away it went, toppling over on one side. A cry of terror escaped all of them. Every one started up, and each one grasped neighbor.

There was something in this sudden shock so dreadful and so startling, that it broke through even the drowsiness and heavy stupor of Bob, and penetrated to his slumbering faculties, and in an instant roused them all. With a wild yell he flung his arms round Uncle Moses. Uncle Moses, fell backward, and all the others were flung upon him. They all lay thus heaped upon the side of the coach, a straggling mass of humanity.

Frank was the first to come to himself, and regain his presence of mind.

"All right," said he, in a cheerful voice. "We haven't gone over quite. The horses have stopped. All right."

A groan came from below the pile of humanity.

"Get off, get off!" exclaimed Bob's voice. "You're smothering Uncle Moses." Frank, who was uppermost, disengaged himself, and helped off the others; and finally Bob scrambled away, giving every indication by this time that he was at last perfectly wide awake.

This restored Uncle Moses. He was able to take a long breath.

By this time Frank had torn open the carriage door, and jumped down. The others followed.

He saw the driver holding the horses. The carriage was tilted over.
One of the hind wheels lay underneath, a shattered wreck.

Now all was bustle and confusion.

The driver proceeded to put into execution a plan by which they could go forward, at least far enough to traverse the marshes. The boys all helped, and their efforts drove away the last vestige of drowsiness.

The plan consisted in taking out the tongue of the wagon, binding it upon the fore axle, and letting its other end drag on the ground. Now, as the tongue sloped down, the hind axle rested upon it, and thus the trailing wood served to keep the coach erect, and to act as a runner, which supplied very well the place of the lost wheel. The horses were then hitched on by the traces, without any tongue, and in this way they pulled along the broken carriage.