But this adventure,
which had unexpected consequences, needs to be related with some
minuteness.
It was about eleven o'clock in the morning. An overpowering heat had
obliged the inhabitants of the factory to keep in their huts, and one
would not even meet a single native in the streets of Kazounde.
Mrs. Weldon was dozing near little Jack, who was sleeping soundly.
Cousin Benedict, himself, suffering from the influence of this
tropical temperature, had given up his favorite hunts, which was a
great sacrifice for him, for, in those rays of the midday sun, he
heard the rustle of a whole world of insects. He was sheltered, then,
at the end of his hut, and there, sleep began to take possession of
him in this involuntary siesta.
Suddenly, as his eyes half closed, he heard a humming; this is one
of those insupportable buzzings of insects, some of which can give
fifteen or sixteen thousand beats of their wings in a second.
"A hexapode!" exclaimed Cousin Benedict, awakened at once, and passing
from the horizontal to the vertical position.
There was no doubt that it was a hexapode that was buzzing in his hut.
But, if Cousin Benedict was very near-sighted, he had at least very
acute hearing, so acute even that he could recognize one insect from
another by the intensity of its buzz, and it seemed to him that this
one was unknown, though it could only be produced by a giant of the
species.
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