“By Jove, yes!” and the boys stared at the unfamiliar spoor of animals.  “But why do they use this particular part of the forest?”

“That we shall see, for our way lies now along this ground-path.  The little people have done their tracking.  The man-eaters are near.”

CHAPTER XV

FIGHT WITH A GORILLA

“The man-eaters,” said Venning, blankly.  “I had forgotten about them.”

“And there is another thing you have forgotten,” said Mr. Hume, sternly, “you and Compton.  You have forgotten to obey orders.  My orders were to descend from the tree.  You both kept on, and by so doing ran a very great risk.  Understand now, that you will do exactly what I wish.”

Compton looked rebellious, and opened his lips.

“Not a word!” said the hunter, in a roar, with a hard look in his eyes, that gave a fierce expression to his face.

The two boys stared at him dumfounded.

“You understand?” he said.

“I do, sir,” replied Compton, gravely; for, high-spirited as he was, he was in the wrong, and had the courage to admit it.

That night they saw the fires of the man-eaters, who had encamped on a knoll comparatively free from trees and entirely bare of underwood.  Beyond the knoll was the gleam of water, and at the same time they heard the familiar trumpeting of the mosquito hosts, whose attentions they had been free from ever since they left the river.  They anointed their faces and hands with an ointment that contained eucalyptus oil, while Muata and the river-man went off to scout.  Then they stood in the shadow of a great tree and watched the weird scene in the thick of the forest.  There were several fires, and about each squatted a ring of wild black men.  Their skins glistened like ebony from the fat they had liberally rubbed in, and their teeth and eyes gleamed in the reflection of the fires.  Their hair, fizzled out in mops, had the appearance of fantastic Scotch bonnets; but apparently all their vanity had been lavished on their heads, for of dress they wore nothing but anklets and a strip of hide round the waist.  They talked unceasingly, cracking their fingers and making play with their hands, while all the time one or another of the different groups was on his feet, stamping the ground, swinging a club, and shouting at the top of his voice.

“Ah men,” said Mr. Hume.  “Not a woman or a boy among them.”

“What have they done with their prisoners, if these are the same we are after?”

What, indeed!  Their eyes searched the shadows at the foot of the knoll for trace of the unfortunate people who had been captured, but they could neither see nor hear anything.

“Ugh, the brutes!” muttered Venning, with a shudder, as he brought his rifle to the “ready.”

Mr. Hume pressed the barrel down.  “We’ll have no night attack,” he whispered.  “At the first note of danger they’d scatter like shadows, when they would have the eyes and the ears of us.  Well hear what Muata has to say, and then wait for the morning.”