“Do you go alone?”

“Ay, alone with the silent one—­he of the four legs;” and a faint smile lit up the chiefs sombre and stern countenance, as he glanced at the jackal now reappearing after good eating.

Mr. Hume went aside with Muata to dissuade him from his purpose, but the chief was determined, having in his mind a plan to destroy Hassan’s canoes, as he had learnt from his spies that the Arab was arranging for another attack.  So while the Hunter went down to be formally received by the clan, the two sub-chiefs, the Young Lion, and the Spider, went off on a reconnaissance of their own to the water that was “taboo,” to all but one, as Muata had hinted.  They picked up the trail from the marks that Mr. Hume had renewed on his last trip, and arrived on the banks of the unruffled pool.  By contrast with the open valley bathed in sunshine, this sheet of water at the foot of the perpendicular cliffs was gloomy and creepy.  There was, too, a mystery about it, for it had no visible source.  There was no ripple on its smooth surface, no trace of a current, except in the centre, where, from time to time, bubbles appeared and disappeared, leaving just a trace of foam.  They tossed pebbles in to judge the depth from the sound which ranged from the “splash” of the shallows to the gurgling “plop” of the deeps, and followed the pebbles with rocks, till at last the sluggish pool was stirred and furrowed with waves.  And in the very midst of their sport a black hand appeared above the waters, and with a heavy roll the body itself floated before them, dead and stark.

The boys stood with their hands arrested, staring at this startling apparition.

Slowly it drifted away, the strong white teeth set in a grin, a dark oily stain trailing from numerous wounds on the body and limbs.

“It’s a cannibal,” said Compton, in a whisper.

“How did he come to be here?” muttered Venning, with a fearful glance around.

They stepped back to the shelter of a tree, and listened, for if one cannibal had found his way to the pool, it was pretty certain that others had.  But there was no sound down in those shaded depths.  The little waves on the pool quieted down, the surface recovered its glassy smoothness, the bubbles reappeared in the centre, and broke with a faint noise audible yet in the stillness.  The pool had yielded up one of its secrets, and the poor body was now come to the end of its voyage, anchored apparently against a log of wood which had grounded against the bank.

“We can’t leave it there!”

“No, Dick.”

But the sudden, unexpected, ghastly upheaval from the deep of that stark body had naturally badly shaken them, and they stood where they were in nervous expectation of some other horror.  If this place was “taboo” except to one yet unknown to them, it might be that solitary priest or priestess of the pool was now watching them, even if there were no other cannibals near at hand.  So they lingered yet a little longer behind their tree, advancing a foot again and again, only to withdraw it at some fancied noise.