As that sooty imp sipped, with a loud indrawing of his breath in dread of scalding, and a loud outward blowing in token of satisfaction at the comforting taste, the other two guides took the proffered pannikins from the boys, and the entire population crept closer and closer, with many a timid jump.  When, however, these strange visitors from the strange outer world, where there was no roof of trees to keep off the shooting stars and other dangers—­when these queer people began to massage each other in turn, to rub and to thump, to slap and knead the limbs and muscles, then, in their intense curiosity, even the children forgot their timidity and crowded round.  A pickaninny—­the queerest little mite—­even ventured to poke a tiny finger into the ribs of one of the three.  After that there was a great pow-wow.  Mr. Hume, with a man in the palm of each hand, a boy on each shoulder, and a couple hanging from each brawny arm, sent the spectators into shrieks of amusement, and they there and then christened him “The Gorilla,” in token of esteem—­a piece of flattery which was to have a startling sequel.  As night fell the little people lamented the disappearance of the sun with a long, melancholy, dirge-like wail; but when darkness was upon them they built up the fire and prepared their evening meal from the body of a red pig they had killed.  When the three travellers wrapped themselves up in their blankets, their hosts were still busily engaged in eating and talking, and long into the night, whenever they glanced up through half-closed lids, there were the little forms still about the fires.  But in the morning, behold, they were alone with the three guides!  The huts remained, and the town house, with its posts, at least six feet high; but the little doors were open, and the huts were empty.

“They’ve gone,” said Venning, much disappointed.  “And they have stolen nothing,” said Mr. Hume, after a careful inspection of the kit.

The guides pointed to the trees, and once more they were traveling the upper road through the moist leaves, glistening under the sun from the myriad drops of condensed mist.  It was more than they could do to keep pace with the agile leaders, and time and again the little men had to wait for the big-limbed, awkward-footed strangers to come up.  As on the previous day, they stuck to the work, grudging even a few minutes’ rest in the heat of the burning noon, and they only relaxed their efforts to introduce a peculiar sporting event, which nearly put an end to the party.  The quick eye of the light-coloured guide saw some object in the tree-tops, and miming out lightly to the end of the branch, he gave a peculiar bark.  In response there came the familiar barking roar of a gorilla, followed by the appearance of the black face at a little distance.  Immediately the three little men grossly insulted the great monarch of the woods, whose undisputed sway no denizen of the forest cared to dispute, who had been known to break the back of