“There are thirty-six of them,” muttered Compton.  A bull crocodile roared from the water near at hand, and one of the black men imitated the cry, drawing a yell of wild laughter from his comrades.  It was the wildest of scenes.  The little circle of red fire threw into light against an impenetrable wall of black the trunks of a few trees, the trailing vines, and the forms of the savage men.  That was the one bit of the world visible, a space on which appeared some of the lowest forms of the human race; but, though they could see not an inch beyond the furthest reflection of the fires, they knew how well the setting fitted the picture.  It seemed only natural that in that gloomy wilderness of wood these savage types should prevail, for if man had to live there, he could only hold his own by a cunning and ferocity greater than the beasts possessed.  Every item of the scene stamped itself on the minds of the boys as they stood for a long time watching the antics of the savages.

It was a relief when Muata made his presence known by a cricket-like chirrup.

“Are these the men we are after, chief?” asked Mr. Hume, when the two scouts silently crept up.  “They are the same, but the trail is different.”  “Then they are already on another hunt, and have left the women and children they captured elsewhere?  Is that so?”

“As you have seen, they are warriors only.  Such of the women and children who yet live are hidden.  These await the coming of the other wolves.”

“Oh oh!  Then there is to be a great war-party?” “A great killing!  I went near, round by the riverside, where also there is a fire as a signal.  I heard their talk.  Others will join them in the night or the morning, and together they will go in the war-canoes.”

“And who are they that are expected?”

“I said we had not done with the thief-of-the-wood and the river, the man-robber, the slayer of babes.”

“Hassan!  Do you mean that the Arabs are coming?”

“Even so, O great one.  They are well matched, the man-eaters and the man-stealers.”

“And whom do they go against?”

“What should bring Hassan here but one thing, and that the fear of Muata?”

“Humph!” muttered Mr. Hume.

“They go against my people, so that when Muata returns there will not be one left—­man, woman, child, or dog—­to greet him, not one hut left to shelter him, not a single manioc-root for him to eat.  Hassan will let in the waters upon the Garden of Rest.”

“Eh?”

“That is his word.  He has sworn it in his beard, and these jackals howl it out.  They talk of new fish that are to come to their nets.”

“New fish?”

“Oh aye.  When the water is let in, they will stand on the sloping banks of the Garden of Rest and net the drowned.”

“These are strange words, Muata.  What are you talking about?”

“I talk of the plan that is made by Hassan to destroy utterly my people in the Garden of Rest,” said the chief, gloomily—­“the secret hiding whence I went forth against the man-stealers.  Hassan comes hither in the morning, and with these eaters of men, these jackals of the wood, he will go on his way.”