"Must be gone, I think, gentlemen," whispered Buck; "but be ready to fire, for they are treacherous beasts, and one may be lying there badly wounded but with life enough in him to do mischief after all."

"Hadn't we better wait till daylight?" whispered the doctor.

"It will mean so long, sir," said the driver, rather gruffly. "I think we might risk it now, Mak," he cried, and he added a few words in the black's dialect. "He's willing, gentlemen," said the driver quietly. "Let's all go on again."

Then slowly and cautiously the little line advanced, till all at once the black stopped, holding his spear point low and the haft pressed into the ground, for there was a savage roar, and a huge lion, which looked golden, made a tremendous bound right out into the light.

Dean uttered a cry, and the brute couched, snarling fiercely, with the boy lying beneath the monster's outstretched paws.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

WHO WATCHED THE FIRE?

"Back, Mark! Back, boy!" cried Sir James wildly. "No, no; don't shoot," he continued.

The words were unnecessary, for the advancing men, stunned as it were by the catastrophe, stood fast, rifle to shoulder, not daring to draw trigger for fear of injuring the lion's prisoner; but as if deaf to his father's command, Mark continued to advance on one side, the black on the other, till they were close up to the great furious beast, whose eyes were glowing like the fire reflected in them, while its horrent mane stood up as if every hair were a separate wire of gold.

The savage brute, as if contented with having captured its prey, couched there perfectly still, glaring at its approaching enemies as if waiting before making its next spring, and then, exactly together, from one side the black plunged the keen blade of his long spear into its shoulder, while from the other Mark, thrusting forward his rifle, drew trigger not a yard away, sending a bullet right into the monster's skull.

There was a hoarse yell, a sharp crack, the lion threw itself over backward, rolled over twice, slowly stretching itself out with extended paws tearing at the earth, and then lay still.

"Dean!" cried Mark, dropping on one knee. "Oh, don't say you are hurt!"

The boy slowly rose to his knees, staring confusedly at his cousin, while the doctor dashed forward in company with Sir James to examine the boy's injuries.

"Dean, my boy," cried Sir James, "pray, pray speak!" And he caught at the boy's arms.

Dean heard him and turned to look at him in a curious, half dazed way, but in spite of appeal after appeal he made no reply, but began to draw his handkerchief from his breast and to wipe his face, which was covered with blood and foam from the lion's lips. Then giving a strange, half hysterical cry, he exclaimed, "Oh, uncle, it was horrid—horrid!"

"But where were you hurt?" cried Mark excitedly, adding half angrily, "Why don't you speak?"

The boy looked at him wonderingly, as if too much confused to reply; then uttering a long-drawn sigh he said quietly, "Hurt? No, I don't think so. I say, Mark, do go and fetch my boots."

"Oh, Dean, my boy," cried Sir James, half angrily, "you made us think you were half killed!"

"Did I, uncle?" said the boy quietly. "I couldn't help it."

"Help it, no," cried Sir James. "And you, Mark, how dared you do such a rash thing?"

"I don't know, father. I was horribly frightened all the time, but I felt I must; and," he added quickly, "I say, I killed the lion—didn't I, doctor?"

"Yes, and we must have that skin. Ah, take care, Mak!"

For the black was advancing towards the dangerous enemy, and he looked back at the doctor, laughed, showing his glistening teeth, and then seizing the broken haft of his spear, he planted one bare foot upon the creature's shoulder, gave a tug or two, and drew it away, to stand looking dolefully at the two pieces of the weapon, which he held together as if to see whether it was possible to mend them again.

"Now, doctor," said Sir James, as the two boys stood together, whispering, "we must run no more of these horrible risks. It is quite likely that another of the furious beasts may be lying not far away. What do you say, Denham?"

"Yes, sir; there's another one of them, I expect—dead or alive—not far off, and perhaps we had better wait till daylight. Suppose we go right up to the fire, for nothing will follow us there."

"The fire!" said the doctor sharply. "How was it we were surprised like this? You should have made it up, Mark. It was your duty to do so at the end of your watch."

"I did, sir," protested Mark, in a injured tone, "and told Peter Dance to keep it well up when I left him."

"Dance!—Ah, yes, Dance," cried the doctor. "Where is he? Has anyone see him?"

There was no reply, but eyes were turned in all directions, as if it were possible that he might be lying there.

"Poor fellow!" said Sir James sadly. "Something must have happened to him. Here, someone, hail. He may be lying wounded, and looking to us for help."

"Cooey! Cooey! Cooey!" cried Bob Bacon, and then "Cooey!" again, while in dread of fresh calamity all listened for the reply that did not come.

"Oh," cried Mark at last, "a lion must have leaped upon him and pulled him down while he was going his rounds."

"Not likely, sir," said Buck Denham, "with the ponies and all them bullocks about."

"Then where can he be?" cried Mark. "Don't you think a lion may have leaped upon him when he was making up the fire?"

"Might, sir," said the man, "but lions are not likely to go near a fire. I want the day to break, so that we may follow the spoor. What I am hoping is that Peter may have been scared, and will turn up as soon as it is day and he feels safe."

"That's what we all hope," said Mark, speaking for the rest.

"Yes, sir; but the worst of it is that when you want the sun to rise it takes such a long time before it will."

"Yes," said the doctor, who had been silently listening for a few minutes; "let's call the roll, and learn the extent of our losses."

"Oh, I can pretty well tell you that, sir," said Denham: "the four ponies, and eight-and-forty of my draught oxen."

"No, no, man!" said the doctor. "Not so bad as that?"

"Well, not quite, sir, for I hope we may pick up some of them here and there;" and he gave Mark, who was close at hand, a nudge with his elbow.

As the man ceased speaking the doctor began his roll call, as he termed it: four men did not answer to their names.

"This is bad—very bad," said the doctor, in a pained voice. "I should be loth to think that Dance neglected his duty in keeping up the fire, and rendered us exposed to this attack of lions."

"Well, sir, it do seem rather hard to lay it on to a man who may have got it badly, but I am afraid he let that fire out, for first thing after I come, when I looked torst where it should have been all was black as black."

"Oh, tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated Sir James.

"Then there's that man Brown."

"He lay down to sleep close beside me, sir. I don't feel much fear about him."

"And the Hottentot?"

"Well, he was lying just behind Dunn Brown, and my black close to him. They'll turn up, sir, soon as it is daylight. I'm most skeart about Keeper Dance. You see, he's quite new to the country, sir.—Hah-h-h!" continued the man, drawing a deep breath. "That's better! Here's this morning coming, and welcome as the flowers of May, as the country folks say in old England. Here, Dan, my lad, we have had a bad night of it, but we shall want some breakfast all the same. What do you say to putting the billy on to boil?"

"Ay, ay, mate!" cried the man addressed; and he made for the end of the nearest waggon to fetch a bucket and the great tin kettle, while the Illaka joined him on the instant.

"Breakfast!" said Mark, with a look of disgust. "After such a night as this?"

"Well, sir, it's not to be sneezed at," said the big driver good-humouredly, "and we shall work all the better at following up the spoor after a good mug or two of tea. Say, Mr Dean, sir, don't you feel as if a drop would do you good?"

"Yes; but what a horrid night!"

"Oh, not so very bad, sir. You will soon get used to lions."

"But the poor bullocks?" said Mark.

"Ah, that is a bit of a loss, sir, but it's only nature. Bullocks is animals as was made to be eaten, and the lions are always on the look out for their share. Well, gentlemen, I am ready. It's getting broad daylight now. We are all loaded up. What do you say to a start?"

"No," said the doctor; "no one shall stir until the sun is well up."

"All right, sir; you are boss; but I am getting a bit anxious to make a start. No bullocks, no more trekking, for a waggon ain't much use stuck here under the trees."

Meanwhile Mak had been with Dan to fill the water vessels from the stream, an affluent of the now big river by which they were camped. Mak had helped to draw together the glowing embers, and had then gone off again unnoticed, till all at once he was heard to utter a peculiar cry and come rushing towards them at full speed, as if pursued by one of the savage beasts that had attacked them in the dark hours of the night.

"Hi—hi—hi—hi!" he yelled, as he came swiftly threading his way amongst the trees, waving his hands, each armed with a half of the broken spear, and pointing with them now and then in the direction from which he had come.

Rifles were held ready, and all stood waiting for the next onslaught, till the black rushed, wildly gesticulating, into their midst.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

ANYBODY KILLED?

"Hello, mate! What's wrong with you? Don't say as you have found Dunn Brown?" cried Buck.

"Pete, Pete, Peter!" said the black, in a high state of excitement, and he pointed with his broken spear in the opposite direction to that which the lions seemed to have taken.

"Peter Dance!" said Sir James excitedly.

"Oh, poor old Dance!" said Mark, in a low, hoarse voice.

"Not dead! Not dead!" cried Dean.

The black shook his head violently, pointed again with his spear, and then bending down began to slap his right leg.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Buck. "I thought he had come to say, gentleman, as he had found all that the lions had left of him."

"Well," said the doctor, "what does he mean?"

"Something wrong with his leg, sir, and I hope one of the great cats ain't mauled him, because their bites are likely to go bad."

"Here, show us where he is," cried Mark excitedly; and closely followed by Dean he caught the black by the arm and pointed.

That was enough. Mak pointed and smiled, and the whole party followed him at the double, Buck Denham grunting now and then as he ran, and pointing out where the undoubted footprints of a lion were plainly marked where the ground was soft.

It was quite a quarter of a mile from the waggons, and in the midst of some dense undergrowth, that their guide stopped short and stood pointing in a way that showed there was no danger in the approach, when Mark whispered, with his heart sinking, "Oh, Dean, I'm afraid he's badly hurt!"

But at the same moment Bob Bacon sprang in amongst the bushes, trampling them down, side by side with the black.

"Where are you, mate?" cried Bacon, in a hoarse voice.

"Here, lad, here!" And then with a deep groan the poor fellow of whom they were in search said reproachfully, "Thought you were going to leave me here to die."

"Not likely," said Mark angrily. "Where are you hurt?"

"That you, Mr Mark?" groaned the keeper. "Oh, all over, and I'm afraid my leg's broke."

"Let me come," said the doctor. "Knives here: cut back some of these thorns. Now then, try to bear it, my lad," he continued, as he knelt beside the injured man, who was half invisible amongst the thick growth.

"Oh!" groaned the keeper.

"There, I will not hurt you more than I can help, but I must find where you are injured."

"Oh!" groaned the man again.

"Come, your leg's not broken. Yes, no doubt it hurts you, but it's only a sprain. Keep up your spirits. You are not going to die this time."

"But I am hurt all over, sir. The bullocks trampled me: came all in a rush."

"But how came you here, mate?" asked Dan, pausing from his busy task of slashing away at the undergrowth with the big sheath knife which he used for skinning and cutting up.

"I dunno, mate. It all seems like a dream."

"Like a dream?" said Mark, as he recalled his own awakening.

"Yes, Mr Mark, sir. I was sitting on the watch there with my rifle across my knees, wondering how long it would be before daybreak, when all at once there was a big lion as had come up without a sound, looking straight at me."

"Could you see him, mate?" asked Buck.

"Only his eyes."

"Why didn't you fire?"

"Fire? Oh, I was too much skeart. I'll tell the truth about it. I was so frightened that I jumped up and ran, not knowing where I was going, for ever so far, and then I found by the trampling and bellowing that it was right into the way of the bullocks. Then before I knew where I was they knocked me down and the whole drove had gone over me, and when I got my senses again I crawled on here in the dark, and I suppose I swoonded away. That's all I know. Am I very bad, doctor?"

"A man can't be trampled on by a drove of bullocks without being a good deal hurt," said the doctor. "We must carry him somehow to the waggons, or better still bring one of them past here. What do you think, Denham? Do you think you could inspan some of the bullocks and drag one of the waggons here?"

"Oh, yes, sir, I daresay we can get together enough for that. I'll go back and see."

"Yes, do, my man," said Sir James. "I will stay with the doctor, and with your help, Bacon, we will see what we can do."

"That's right, sir," said Buck Denham. "Perhaps you two young gents wouldn't mind coming with me?"

"I—" began Mark, and he stopped short, for the man gave him a peculiar look. "Yes, Buck, I'll come," he said, "and Dean will come too."

They started off, and the big driver said, loudly enough for those they were leaving to hear, "Thank you, gentlemen; I daresay you two will be able to help me a bit."

They started off together on the back trail, Buck Denham pointing out how they had trampled down the herbage, brushing off the dew and here and there breaking down twigs.

"Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Here's poor old Peter's trail. See that? He must have crawled along here. But I don't see the spoor of any of my beasts—yes, I do," he cried, a few yards farther. "They went along here in a drove. Then we had better turn off and follow them up. I don't suppose they will have gone so very far. Say, Mr Mark, sir; do you know why I wanted you two to come with me?"

"To help find the bullocks," said Dean sharply.

The man chuckled as he trotted on along the marks made by the animals.

"No," he said. "It's all plain enough. I didn't want any help. Why, you two could find them if you went far enough. I wanted to get summut off my mind."

"Something off your mind?" said Mark.

"Yes, sir; I don't like to speak out and get another fellow into trouble, but I felt as you two ought to know, and then you could talk it over between yourselves and settle whether you ought to tell the boss."

"Tell my father?" said Mark.

"Yes, sir, or the doctor; and perhaps he will think the poor fellow's got it bad enough without facing more trouble."

"What do you mean, Buck?" cried Dean.

"What I was going to say," said Mark.

"Well, gen'lemen, only this; we oughtn't to have had a surprise like that. It was Peter Dance's watch, warn't it?"

"Yes," cried Mark excitedly, as strange thoughts began to hurry through his brain.

"Well, sir, he as good as said as he was sitting down with his shooter across his knees."

"Yes, yes," cried Dean.

"Well, sir, why didn't he shoot?"

"He was too much startled," said Dean. "Poor fellow! I should have been quite as scared, with a lion creeping right up to me like that."

"I suppose so, sir. But I don't quite believe that tale. I never 'eerd of a lion creeping up to look at a man who was sitting by a fire."

"No," said Mark, in a whisper, as if to himself, and he trotted on the newly made trampled trail of the oxen.

"Why should you doubt it?" said Dean sharply. "I have known Peter Dance ever since I was a quite a little fellow. He can be very disagreeable sometimes, but I never found him out in a lie."

"No, sir?" said Buck. "Well, I think you have found him out now."

"What do you mean?" cried Dean. "Here, Mark, why don't you say something?"

"Because I'm listening," said his cousin drily. "Tell him what you think, Buck."

"Yes, sir; I will, sir. Well, I think—bah! I am sure—that there was no fire."

"What!" cried Dean angrily.

"Gone to sleep, sir, and let it out."

"How do you know that?" cried Dean, indignant in his defence of his uncle's old servant.

"How do I know that, sir? How come the lions to crawl up and stampede my bullocks? Where was the fire when we all jumped up and began shooting? Why, there was only just enough ashes for old Mak to stir up and get to blaze again after he had thrown on some twigs."

"Oh, but—" began Dean hotly.

"Hold your tongue, Dean," said Mark. "Buck Denham's right. He must be. I believe Peter did go to sleep, and woke up to find the fire out and the lions at the poor ponies and bullocks."

"Oh!" cried Dean excitedly. "Why, if he did that, neglecting his duty— going to sleep—"

Just then he caught his cousin's eyes looking at him in a peculiar way, and he stopped short.

"Drop it," said Mark, and he was going to add, "Dozey;" but he made his meaning look do instead.

"There, gen'lemen," said Buck, "I shan't say no more about it, and I don't believe the poor chap will ever do it again. There, I feel better now, Mr Mark. It's off my mind; but I did feel wild. Why, some of us might have been mauled by the lions; and there's my poor beasts: two of them's killed for sartain, and lying yonder half eaten. Oh, and there's the ponies!"

"And we don't know yet," said Mark, "what may have happened to your two men and Brown."

"Oh, they will be all right, sir."

"I don't know," said Mark. "But there, poor Peter is badly hurt, and we will think about whether we should tell my father and the doctor, or have it out with him ourselves, when he's better. I'll make him confess."

"There, what did I tell you, gentlemen?" cried the big driver. "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Ahoy!"

"Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Ahoy! Ahoy!" came from not far away.

"There's two of them, gen'lemen."

"Where?" cried Dean eagerly.

"Oh, not far off, sir. Didn't you hear them shouting? There, you can hear now, surely. I heard them. There!" That to which he drew attention was the low bellowing of oxen being driven in their direction.

"Why, they are coming this way," cried Mark. "Yes, sir. That's Hot Tot and the little black. They've found the bullocks."

"Some of them," suggested Dean.

"All on 'em, sir, as is left alive. They'd hang together when they bolted.—Hullo! Here's Mak come after us;" and the boys turned eagerly, to find the big black had been following their trail, showing his teeth joyously as he pointed with his broken spear and uttered a low bellowing like a bullock.

"Oh, I am glad," cried Mark. "Now if we could only find the ponies—"

Mak thrust two fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly, in perfect imitation of Dunn Brown, sending forth the call, which was instantly answered from the distance.

"Hark at that!" cried Mark. "Why, that must be Dunn! Here, Mak."

The boy thrust his fingers between his lips, withdrew them, and cried, "Whistle! Whistle!"

The black smiled and nodded, and sent forth the piercing call again.

There was an answer from much nearer. "Oh, I wonder how many he has found!" In less than a minute the boy's wondering ceased, for he caught sight of their tall thin follower running swiftly through the low brush, with all four ponies cantering after him, to pull up in a group as the man stopped short close to where the keeper and the two lads were waiting.

"Not hurt, Dunn?" cried Mark joyously.

"No," said the man sadly. "Anybody killed?"

"No. Don't cry about it," cried Mark.

"But Peter Dance is hurt," said Dean sharply.

"Oh," said the man, almost piteously, and then shook his head, looking from one to the other mournfully. "Let the fire out."

Big Buck Denham bent down to slap his thighs and burst into a roar of laughter.

"Oh, don't laugh, Buck," cried Mark. "Think of your poor bullocks."

"Yes," said Dunn, in no way discomposed by the man's laughter; "two killed."

"Well, arn't that enough to make a fellow laugh?" said Buck. "Only two pulled down. Might have been worse. You have seen them, then?"

"Yes; they followed the ponies. Just came by."

"That's all right, then. Come and help, Dunn. I want to inspan and take one of the waggons to fetch Peter Dance."

"Ah!" said Dunn, and he shook his head. "Let the fire out."

"Well, don't go howling about it and get the poor fellow into trouble."

"No?" sighed Buck's amateur foreloper.

"No!" thundered Buck. "And there's worse disasters at sea. Bad jobs turn out trumps sometimes, young gen'lemen. Two bullocks pulled down, and when we have got Peter Dance back to camp, gentlemen, I daresay you would like to come along of me to have a look at the dead lions. I say, Dunn, can you skin a lion?"

"Yes," said the man, and he pulled a long knife out of its sheath and tried its edge.

"Yes, that will do. I'll help you, mate. We will get little Dan at work to cut up the bullocks; but I'm rather scared about their skins."

"Then why cut the poor things up?" said Mark sharply.

"Why cut them up, sir?" replied the big driver, staring at the boy wonderingly. "Best bits—beef."



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A DEED OF MERCY.

"Come, I call this good luck," cried the big driver, as, following the black foreloper and with the Hottentot behind, the long line of bullocks two and two came placidly into sight, looking none the worse for the night attack, and in no wise troubled for the loss of two of their brethren.

"Luck!" cried Mark. "It's glorious! I shall be glad when father knows."

"Ah, we will soon let him know," said Buck good-humouredly; "leastways, as soon as I can; but it takes longer to inspan than it does to fill one's pipe. But poor old Peter won't hurt much. He's a bit sore, of course. A span of bullocks arn't a nice thing to dance over a fellow, even if he is by natur' like a bit of Indy-rubber. I say—now you listen."

For as the little Hottentot came into sight Buck hailed him with some incomprehensible question, the response to which was that he and the foreloper had climbed a big tree that was close to the first waggon.

"There, what did I tell you?" said the big fellow, with a chuckle, as he interpreted the Hottentot's reply. "My chaps know how to take care of theirselves when them great cats are on the way. Here, you have it out with old Dunn Brown."

"Yes," cried Mark eagerly. "Here, Brown," cried the boy, "what did you do when you heard the lions?"

"Do?" said the man, rather piteously. "Cut 'em loose—ran—whistled."

"Bravo!" cried Dean, joining with his cousin in a merry laugh.

"We all ran," sighed their queer follower. "None scratched."

"Hurry on," shouted Buck to his men; but the bullocks kept to their slow, deliberate trudge, munching away at the store of fresh green grass that had been collecting since their escape. "Perhaps you young gents," continued Buck, "would like to mount two of the ponies and canter back with the news."

"No saddles or bridles," said Mark.

"Tchah! You don't want saddles or bridles. Those little beggars will go which way you like with a touch of the hand; and I am not going to believe that you can't get along barebacked. Not me!"

"Oh, I daresay we could manage," said Mark; "but our orders were to see the bullocks inspanned and go back with them."

"Can't you trust me?" growled Buck.

"Trust you! Of course!" cried Mark, laying his hand on the big fellow's shoulder. "I'd trust you anywhere, but—"

"Here, I know," said the driver good-humouredly. "Good boy! Always obey orders."

But all the same the deliberate crawl of the bullocks made both the lads terribly impatient.

"I wish you had got your whip, Buck," said Dean. "Oh, I don't know, sir. Let 'em alone. It's their way. They are going willing enough, and they have had a nasty night. I never give them a touch up only when I see one lazy and won't pull. Then it's crick crack, and I let go at a fly on his back."

At last, though, the span belonging to the second waggon had taken their places, and Dunn Brown was at the front waiting for the sonorous "Trek!" which Buck Denham roared out, accompanied by a rifle-like report of his tremendous whip, when Dunn threw up his hands, stepped right before the team, and stopped them.

"What game do you call that?" roared Buck, from where he was seated on the waggon chest.

"Too—late," sighed the white foreloper, and he drew out his scissors to begin his morning apology for a shave.

"Can't you see, Buck?" cried Mark. "Come along, Dean. Just think of that!"

For, slowly trudging along, Bob Bacon appeared, bending low under his burden, giving his fellow-keeper a comfortable pick-a-back, having carried him all the way from where he had been found lying helpless, and apparently now not much the worse for his novel ride.

"Bravo, Bob!" cried Mark, as he and his cousin ran up to meet them. "Why, you haven't carried Peter all this way?"

"Phew! Arn't it hot, sir! Not carried him? Well, what do you call this?"

"How are you, Peter?" asked Dean.

"Very bad, sir."

"Oh, don't say very," cried Mark. "You will be better when you have had some breakfast."

"Hope so, sir," said the man, with a groan; and he was carefully carried to the first waggon, in front of which Dan had already begun to busy himself raking the fire together and getting water on to boil, while as soon as the doctor had seen to his patient and had had him laid upon a blanket, he joined Sir James and the boys to look round while breakfast was being prepared, and examine the traces of the night's encounter.

There lay one huge lion, stretched out and stiffening fast, showing the blood-stained marks of its wound, and a short distance beyond were the torn and horribly mutilated bodies of two of the bullocks, not very far apart, one of them quite dead, the other gazing up appealingly in the faces of those who approached him, and ready to salute them with a piteous bellow.

"Poor brute," said the doctor, taking a revolver from his belt, and walking close up to the wounded bullock, he placed the muzzle right in the centre of its forehead as the poor beast raised its head feebly, and fired.

"Oh!" ejaculated the boys, as if with one breath, and while the poor animal's head was beginning to subside back to the blood-stained grass upon which it had lain the doctor fired again, and the mutilated animal sank back motionless with a deep, heavy sigh.

"An act of mercy," said the doctor quietly.

"Yes," said Sir James gravely. "It seems cruel, boys, but it would have been far worse to have left him there to be tortured by the flies and attacked by vultures and hyaenas."

By this time Buck Denham had come up, and while the two boys were still mentally hesitating as to the mercy of the act, which seemed terribly repellent, he said, "That's right, boss. I just ketched sight of a couple of those owry birds coming along, and if it hadn't been for the trees they would have been at work before now. I'd bet a pipe of tobacco that a pack of those laughing beauties the hyaenas are following the crows and will be hard at work as soon as we are on the trek."

Farther in the forest Mak soon found the body of the other lion, which had left its trail as it crawled away to die; but it was still warm, and had hardly had time to stiffen, looking still so life-like with its unglazed eyes that it was approached rather nervously, every rifle in the party being directed at the huge brute. But no trigger was drawn, for proof was given at once of its power to do mischief having lapsed by the action of the black, who leaped upon it with a shout and indulged himself with a sort of dance of triumph.

"Here, you come off," cried Buck. "Spoor. Spoor."

The black nodded, and stooping low he began to quarter the ground and point out footprint after footprint, till the driver gave it as his opinion that they had been attacked by quite a large party of the savage beasts.

"You see, gen'lemen, there's the big pads and some about half the size. I should say that there was a couple of families been scenting my bullocks. Seems to me like two lionesses and their half-grown cubs."

"But the two big lions?" said Mark eagerly.

"Oh, I wasn't counting them in, sir," said Buck. "We have shot them and the she's, and the young 'uns have got away, and like enough one or two of them has carried bullets with them."

"But do you think they are near?" asked Dean.

"Maybe yes, sir; maybe no; but I should say it would be just as well to start as soon as we have had braxfas' and get as far on as we can before night."

Just then there was a hail from the waggons in Dan's familiar tones, to announce breakfast, and soon after its hasty despatch the blacks were at work skinning the lions, aided by Dunn Brown, while Buck Denham, with the assistance of Dan and Bob Bacon, had a busy time in securing some of the choicest portions of the bullock that had been shot, the doctor superintending.

Later on, before they started, the Hottentot and the two blacks were allowed to cut off as many strips of the beef as they pleased, to hang on the first waggon for drying in the sun.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"WE ARE GOING WRONG."

"No, gen'lemen," said Buck, in reply to a question; "I have had four long trips with hunting parties, and know a good deal of the country, but this is all new to me. Mak professes to know, and I daresay he is all right. He is clever enough at choosing good open country where my bullocks can get along, and he never stops at a kopje without our finding water. You see, we have got now during this last week to the edge of the biggest piece of forest that we have had to do with, and I am not going to interfere with him till he shows that he's a bit lost. Here we are keeping to the edge of the trees where I can get the waggons along and you can have plenty of sport, which gives us all enough to eat. Oh, it's all right, gen'lemen. These niggers know what they are about. I'd trust him, and I suppose it don't matter to you where we are, because we can always turn back when you are tired and your stores begin to run out."

"But Dr Robertson wants to find the ancient cities that we have heard of. Where are they?" said Mark.

"I d'know, sir," said the man, with a laugh. "There's Mak yonder; let's go and ask him."

Instead of going to the black, Buck Denham signed to him as he looked their way, and the stalwart, fierce-looking fellow marched up to them, shouldering his spear, whose broken shaft he had replaced with a finely grown bamboo.

The questioning resulted in a certain amount of pantomime on Mak's part and a confident display of smiles.

"Oh, it's all right, gen'lemen; he knows. He says we are to keep right along just outside the trees, and that he will take us to what he calls the big stones. But they are days and days farther on."

"But that's very vague," said the doctor.

"Yes, sir, I daresay it is," said Buck, "though I don't know what vague means. I only know that there's plenty of room out in this country to go on trekking for years, and I should always feel sure that a chap like Mak would be able to find his way back when you give the order to turn round."

So the journey was continued, with no day passing without some object of interest being found. The guns and rifles of the party kept the soup pot boiling, and ample joints and birds for roasting over the embers, the picking out of places where abundant supplies of wood and water could be obtained being one of Mak's greatest accomplishments; but as the boys laughingly said when comparing notes, there was no getting any work out of Mak the Chief. He would find what was requisite, or would trace game to its lair, and then make a grand display of his powers of eating and go to sleep.

"No, gen'lemen," said Buck, one day, "we don't see many traces of lions. You see, we keep hanging about so along the edge of this great forest, and we'd rather not run against any of the great cats, because we don't want to spare any of our bullocks. If you gen'lemen wish for lion hunting all you have got to do is to tell Mak, and he will take us right out on the open veldt where there's a kopje of rocks here and there and the spring boks and antelope beasts go in droves. That's where you will find the lions—lying up in the shelter of the rocks at one time, and hanging on to the skirts of the different herds so as to stalk their dinners when they want them and go on hunting them, you may say, all over the plains."

"Yes, I understand," said Mark, "but we don't want to go out over the plains, though it's very nice to have a canter now and then and pick up a buck."

"One Buck Denham's enough," said Dean drily.

"Yes, gen'lemen; quite, I should think."

"Quite," said Mark; "but he's the best Buck on the plains. You shouldn't try to make bad jokes, though, Dean. And look here, Buck, we couldn't do better than we are doing now. Nothing pleases father more than going out of an evening with his gun at the edge of a forest like this, and picking off the guinea-fowls for supper as they come into the trees to roost."

"Yes, not bad for you gen'lemen's supper, gen'lemen, but Tot and those black fellows want something with more stay in it. The way in which they can stow away food makes even me stare, and I'm not a bad fist with the knife. You see, I have a lot to keep going; but I am nothing to one of them. I shouldn't like to leave them in charge of the teams without master. Why, if they could do as they liked they'd come to camp, light a big fire, kill one of those bullocks, and sit down to cook, and never stir again until there was nothing left but some bones for the crows to pick. Two spans of oxen wouldn't last them so very long."

"Forty-six!" said Dean, bursting out laughing, "Oh, I say, come, Buck, you can exaggerate!"

"Oh, that's true enough, sir. They would only want time. Hullo, you, what's the matter? Here's old Mak seen something. Get your guns ready."

For the black, who had formed one of the topics of conversation that morning as he walked well ahead of the first waggon as they skirted the edge of the forest—the waggons keeping in the open—kept on making incursions towards where the huge trees spread their boughs, and the country was park-like and grand. And now, to bring forth the driver's exclamation, the keen-eyed black fellow, who had evidently caught sight of something which had excited his interest, was running swiftly in and out of the bushes more and more towards the great trees, in full chase, throwing up his spear now and then as if to signal his companions to follow.

"What is it he is after?" cried Mark.

"I dunno, sir," replied Buck, who was standing up now upon the waggon chest and holding on to the tilt so as to follow the movements of their guide. "It's something to eat; you may take your oath of that."

The black's movements had been noted by the doctor and Sir James, who, double gun in hand, had been tramping slowly a little to the left of their line of route, on the look out for anything that might be serviceable to supply their larder, and they followed the example of the two boys and threaded their way in amongst the low growth in answer to the silent appeal made by their guide.

Mark was the first to see that Mak was in pursuit of a little naked black figure that was running and doubling through the bushes like a hare.

Its effort was evidently to find a place of concealment, for three times over it disappeared and the boys thought it was gone; but upon each occasion it was evident that Mak's eyes were too keen, and they saw him approach cautiously, or creep round some clump of trees, with the result that the little black figure started out again, and finally giving up its efforts to conceal itself plunged right in amongst the close growing trees of the forest which rose up beyond the low growth like a wall.

"Lost," said Mark sharply. "Mak won't be able to follow him there."

But he was wrong, for without a moment's hesitation their guide dashed into the dark cover, while the boys stopped short on coming up to the spot where he had disappeared.

They looked round, but Sir James and the doctor were out of sight. They found too that they had left the waggons behind.

"Hadn't we better turn back?" said Dean.

"Well, I half think so," replied his cousin, "but I should like to have a look at that chap. He was quite a little boy. I say, if we stop here Mak will start him again directly, and then we can take him prisoner."

"What for?" asked Dean. "We don't want to take prisoners."

"I don't know, but I suppose Mak wants to catch him for some reason, to ask the road, perhaps. Here, come on."

"Oh, I don't know," replied Dean. "See how thick the trees are."

"Yes, it is pretty dark," said Mark. "But we are not afraid of that."

"No, but if we go in there we are sure to lose our way."

"Very well, Miss Timidity, let's lose it. It will be another job for Mak to find us again."

"I am no more timid than you are," said Dean coolly. "Come along;" and stepping quickly before his cousin he plunged directly between two huge trees whose branches on their side thickly interlaced and came close down to the ground, while as soon as they had passed them it was to find themselves confronted by tall columns standing as thickly as they could, bare of trunk and branchless till about sixty or seventy feet above their heads, where verdant roof was formed which completely shut off the light save where here and there a thin streak or two of sunshine shot down like an arrow, to form a little golden patch upon the floor of withered leaves.

"What a change!" cried Mark, as the pair stopped short, trying to penetrate the darkness; but this they found was impossible save in the direction from which they had come.

"Isn't it strange?" said Dean, after walking in and out amongst the trees for some twenty yards.

"Strange, yes," replied Mark. "Why, it wants a couple of hours to mid-day, and we might fancy that it only wanted a couple of hours to midnight. Well, let's go a little farther."

"Very well," replied Dean, stepping out; "but we could not see Mak if he was close at hand."

"No, but we shall hear him directly. He will try to cooey, and he will as soon as he has caught the little black chap. I say, didn't he scuttle along just like a rabbit!"

"Yes, but I say, let's keep together, for I am sure we shall lose ourselves directly."

"Oh, we shan't lose ourselves; but let's keep on quite straight."

"How are we to keep on quite straight when we can't get along without winding in and out?"

"That's true," said Mark; "but I say, do took upward! What trees! What a height! Just stand still and listen for a minute or two. We may get a shot at some beautiful bird such as we have never seen before."

They paused and listened, went on, and stopped, and listened again, and then made a fresh halt, making the backs of their necks ache with having to stare straight up in trying to pierce the dense foliage which shut out the sunlight sky.

But there was no rustle of bird or buzz of insect; all was profound silence. And this, joined to the deep gloom, affected both the boys in a similar way, for they cocked their pieces, which rarely left their hands, and the sound was so dull and shut in that a curious creepy feeling affected them.

"I say," said Dean, at last, in almost a whisper, "I don't want you to laugh at me for being a coward, but this does seem a creepy place. I vote we get out, before we are lost. It would be queer to find that we could not get back."

"I am not going to laugh at you and call you a coward, for I feel a little queer myself. Are you sure that if we turned right round now and began to walk back we should get out?"

"I think so," said Dean hesitatingly, "but don't let's try both together. Look here."

"It's all very fine to say, 'Look here,' when one can hardly see. It is just as if we had stepped out of day into night."

"Nonsense!" cried Dean impatiently. "I did not want you to look. I meant that I would stand perfectly still looking straight into the darkness till you had turned round and were looking right back the way we came. Then you stand still while I turn round. Then we could not make any mistake, and we could walk out together."

"Well," said Mark, "that seems right, only I am afraid we did not come in straight, and I say I think we have done a very stupid thing. We ought to have taken out our knives and chipped the bark off every tree we passed."

"Yes, but it is too late to do that, so let's try and get out at once."

"But what about Mak?"

"Oh, he's a savage, and he could find his way anywhere. Now then, I am standing still. You turn round at once."

"Done," said Mark, and he turned sharply and backed close up to his cousin, so that they were looking now in opposite directions. "Now then, this must be right. You turn round while I stand fast."

Dean turned and stood side by side with his cousin, who then gave the order to step out.

"Yes," he continued, as they began to move back slowly, "I am beginning to want to get out of this. It makes one feel confused. I wish, though, we could hear Mak rustling through the bushes."

"How could he rustle through the bushes when there are none to rustle through? It's just like being in an awful great temple, with the tall smooth pillars supporting the roof."

"Pish! What nonsense!" cried Mark. "Let's get on. We are just inside the edge of a great forest, and what's the good of imagining all sorts of things? Come along, and let's walk fast."

Dean made no reply, and the two lads stepped out, giving up in despair all efforts to keep on in a straight line, for they had to turn to right or left every minute to pass round the huge trunk of some enormous tree.

This went on for nearly a quarter of an hour, a quarter which seemed half, and then Mark stood still.

"Dean," he said sharply, "we are going wrong."

Dean was silent.

"I say we are going wrong," repeated Mark. "If we had been right we should have been outside this horrible place minutes ago."

"Oh, don't talk like that," said Dean, in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard, when all the time his heart would have leaped with joy if he had heard some other voice. "Listen," said Mark.

"Ah! What can you hear?" cried his cousin. Mark was silent for quite a minute. "Nothing," he whispered, at last. "It's so awfully silent."

And the lads stood listening each to his own hard breathing, both yielding to the sensation of strange dread that was creeping over them, in fact, fast losing their nerve. At last Mark spoke out with angry decision. "Don't let's be fools," he said, "and give way to this nasty sensation. But it's of no use to hide it from ourselves: Dean, old chap, we are lost!"

"Yes," said Dean faintly. "Shout!" Mark started, clapped his hand to his cheek, and gave out the Australians' far piercing cry—"Cooey!" listened, and then quite excitedly told his cousin to try.

Dean obeyed him and uttered his shrill version of the cry. Then both stood and listened—listened with throbbing hearts for some response, no matter how distant, but listened in vain, and the silence now seemed more than awful.

"Oh, it's nonsense to take it like this," cried Mark, with another burst of energy. "Here, Dean."

"Well, what?"

"Let's look it all in the face. We know that we can't be far from where we came in. We know too that we left father and Dr Robertson just outside, and that Mak came in before us."

"Yes, yes!"

"Well, then, what is there to mind? All we have got to do is to stand still and let them find us; and if they try and can't make out where we are, they will bring all the men to help. Here, let's lean up against one of the trees a bit and listen and think."

"Can't!" said Dean passionately. "I feel that if I stood still I should go mad. Let's keep on trying."

"Yes," said Mark excitedly, "let's keep on trying. Will you go one way, and I will go the other, and the one that finds the way out can cooey."

"No," cried Dean feverishly, "don't let's separate. We must keep close together."

"Yes," said Mark, "we must keep close together. Come on, and let's walk quickly."

They started off, with Mark leading, and for quite half an hour they threaded their way in and out amongst the huge pillar-like trunks, which seemed to have grown closer together and looked as though if they were left undisturbed for a few years longer they would all join together and form an impenetrable wall. Then with the darkness seeming thicker than ever, they stopped short and stood hand in hand.

"Dean," said Mark, at last, and he looked at his cousin's dimly-seen face, "do you know what we have been doing?"

"Yes: making it more difficult for them to find us."

"Yes, that we have," said Mark; "and yet it seemed so impossible, just as if after walking in we had nothing to do but to walk out again; and here we are, thoroughly lost."

"But it only means," said Dean, trying to speak firmly, but failing dismally, "being lost for a few hours or so, or at the worst having to stop all night."

"Without food or water!" said Mark bitterly. "And what about the wild beasts?"

"Not a place for lions," said Dean.

"No, I know that; but doesn't it seem to you like what we have read of, about men being lost in the Australian bush?"

"But this isn't the Australian bush."

"No, it's bigger—as much bigger as those trees are than the Australian bushes."

"Well, you are a nice comfortable fellow, Mark, to come out with!"

"Yes, I am, aren't I? It was stupid of me. But there, I am going to be plucky now. Let's have another try."

"Yes, try again," said Dean; "but it seems stupid, and may mean getting farther and farther and more hopelessly lost."

"It can't be, and it shan't be!" cried Mark. "Oh, what stuff! Let's shout again—shout till we make Mak hear us and come to our help. Now then, both together. What shall we cry?"

"Cooey, of course," cried Dean; and joining their voices they called at close intervals again and again till they were hoarse, while at every shout it seemed as if their voices rebounded from the solid surfaces of the trees instead of penetrating or running between them. And then as their voices failed they started off again in and out amongst the natural pillars, growing more and more excited and dismayed, till they felt that they could go no farther—absolutely lost, and not knowing which way to turn, while the darkness above them seemed blacker than ever and the dimly-seen trees that closed them in on every side began to wear the appearance of an impenetrable wall.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

AMONG THE PIGMIES.

In utter weariness the two boys now stood their guns up against the nearest trees and let themselves sink together upon the thin bed of moist leaves that had not been eaten up, as it were, by the root action of the trees, glad of the relief to their now weary limbs, and for some time they sat in the silent darkness, utterly stunned—minutes and minutes, possibly half an hour, before Mark started to his feet, and, nerved by his cousin's movement, Dean followed his example.

"Hear someone coming?" he cried, in a hoarse whisper.

"No!" raged out Mark.

"What are you going to do, then?"

"What we ought to have done hours ago. We must have been asleep."

"Asleep! No."

"Well, our brains must have been. There, catch hold of your gun."

As the boy spoke he seized his own by the stock, held it up with one hand as high as he could, and fired, with the sound thrown back as their voices had been by the trees. Then they sat and listened.

"Shall I fire?" asked Dean, at last.

"No; wait a few minutes;" and Mark rested his piece which he had discharged upon a projecting buttress-like root of the nearest tree.

"Hah! What's that?" cried Dean excitedly.

"That" was the soft pat, pat, of a bare foot upon the moist, leaf-strewn earth, and showing his white teeth in a satisfied grin, Mak glided into their sight and tapped each of the lads' extended hands.

"Come," he said quickly. "Come 'long."

Both tried to answer, but no words would come, and trying hard to shake off the emotion which troubled them, they followed their rescuer as he regularly glided in and out amongst the trees, till all at once they were standing in a small circular clearing not twenty yards across, and there they involuntarily stopped short, staring in wonderment at the dimly pictured scene that greeted their weary eyes.

After what the boys had gone through it seemed something dream-like, and they were ready to fancy that in that terrible dark forest they had stumbled upon some strange abode of the fabulous gnomes or kobolds described by the old German romanticists as being the haunting inhabitants of the mines and cavernous underground regions.

As the two lads followed their guide into almost nocturnal darkness they became aware of the fact that they were surrounded by some five-and-thirty little beings, not one of whom seemed to stand above four feet high. There was nothing dwarf-like about them, or sign of deformity, for they were comparatively slight, though muscular and in every way well built.

Their appearance was threatening, for each man amongst them was half sheltering himself behind a tree, and standing holding a little bow with arrow having its neck in the string and drawn nearly to the head as if ready to let fly at the white strangers.

The two boys stopped short, involuntarily raising their rifles ready to fire, and in the quick glance Mark swept round the little arboreal circus he caught sight of as many more of the little people, much smaller and slighter, as they cowered behind their companions.

It was a swift glance, but sharp enough for the boy to realise that those were the women companions of the little men.

"Shall we fire?" whispered Dean.

"No; don't."

"But they mean fighting."

"Frightened of us," said Mark quickly. "Look, they are quite friendly towards Mak."

For the big, shapely Illaka was stalking about here and there, and as he passed each little warrior with drawn bow, the little fellow lowered his weapon and looked up at the spear-armed giant as if he were their king.

"Not hurt," cried Mak, and he stepped lightly about, pointing with his spear at first one and then another of the little black tribe. "Come, look," he shouted; and the boys shouldered their pieces, while Mak pointed with his spear to first one and then another, and then stopped to pat them on the back. "Mark, look," he said; "Dean, look!" And he took hold of one of them by the arm and turned him round as if to show him off as a curious specimen of humanity, while the little fellow submitted with a calm look of sufferance and submission.

Mak seemed never tired of showing off his find, and ended by stretching out his strong arm and catching at and dragging forward one of the tiny women, who shrank trembling as she cowered and gazed up at the to her huge giant who was treating her as a prisoner.

The tiny woman's companions looked on solemnly and made no sign of resistance, while the Illaka cropped on one knee and drew his little prisoner towards tie two boys, who looked on, full of curiosity, Mak's captive shrinking and trembling as he reached out for Mark's hand and made him, willingly enough, pat the little silent creature on the head and back.

"Dean," he cried, and he extended his hand for him to administer the same friendly touches, after which the tiny woman shrank away into hiding again.

"Now come," cried Mak, and as if he belonged to the little tribe, he led the way a little farther into the forest, followed slowly by some of the child-like men, to where it was evident they formed their sleeping camp and prepared their food.

Here nestling in a hole which was lined with the skins of two or three of the native bucks, Mak pointed out with his spear one of the dwarfs who was cowering shrinkingly down so that the young travellers could see little of him but his flashing eyes.

"Mark look," said the black sharply, and taking hold of the little fellow by the wrist he gently drew him partly out of his skin bed, uttering a curious whimpering sound as if he were in pain.

"Don't hurt him, Mak," cried Dean.

"Look, Dean; see," and he pointed to the little fellow's arm and shoulder, and as Mark bent down, not understanding fully in the shadow what their guide meant, it suddenly dawned upon him that the poor little fellow, who was terribly emaciated, had evidently been mauled by some savage beast, his little wasted left arm and shoulder being in a terrible, almost loathsome, state.

"Look, Dean," cried Mark, shrinking with disgust, which he overcame directly, and handing his rifle to his cousin he went down on one knee, with three or four of the little tribe looking on, wonderingly, but all with a grave, solemn seriousness of aspect, while Mark took out a handkerchief from his breast and spread it tenderly over the fearful festering wound.

"Isn't it horrible!" he said, turning up his head to speak to his cousin, but encountering the bent over face of the illaka looking on approvingly.

"Good—boy," he said solemnly. "Mark good."

The last traces of the look of disgust passed from Mark's face, and he laughed merrily at the black.

"I say, Dean, I have lost my handkerchief, but I have got a good character. But, poor little beggar, that will kill him. Still, I shouldn't have liked to have missed seeing these people. Who would ever have thought there were any like them in the world!"

"It makes up for our being scared," said Dean quietly; "but I didn't like seeing this. It was so horrible. There, there's no occasion to be afraid of their bows and arrows now."

"I wasn't before," said Mark, "after seeing how cool Mak was amongst them. Now then, we want to go. Waggon—dinner;" and the boy pointed with his rifle, which had just been handed to him by his cousin.

Mak nodded as if he fully understood, and shouldering his spear he marched back to the little circus, now followed by an increasing train of the pigmies, whose eyes gazed at their visitors with a sort of reverence; and Mark noted that the sinew strings of their little bows were slackened as they followed them amongst the trees and out to the edge of the forest, which seemed to offer no obstacle to Mak, who would probably have found it without difficulty, though in this case a couple of the tiny blacks trotted before them and then stopped at the very edge, to gaze wistfully after them till they were out of sight.

"Why, boys," cried Sir James, "where have you been? We should have been quite alarmed, only we knew that you had Mak with you."



CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE DOCTOR PLAYS SURGEON.

"You were more frightened than hurt, boys," said the doctor, after listening to their account, "and but for our guide your adventure might have turned out badly."

"A horrible experience," said Sir James, shaking his head. "I don't care how brave a man may be; there are times when he completely loses his nerve. It is very plain that that was the case with our two boys."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and they would have done more wisely if they had sat down at once and waited till Mak came to them. This he would have done, of course. But it is wonderful what an instinct these people born in the wilds display under such circumstances. But this is a splendid slice of luck. One has heard and read of the pigmy inhabitants of Africa—Pliny, wasn't it, who wrote about them?—and there were the bushmen of farther south. I once saw one of them, a little tawny yellow-skinned fellow, a slightly made little chap about as big as a boy eleven years old, a regular pony amongst men, and as strong and active as a monkey. But you say these miniature men you saw were black?"

"Oh, yes. They seemed in the darkness there darker than soot."

"Well, Sir James, we must have a look at them," continued the doctor.

"I wonder whether they are the same race as our explorers have described."

"Oh, they may or may not be, sir. There's plenty of room in Africa for such tribes. What do you think about them?"

"I am most interested," said Sir James, "and as the boys say that as soon as the little fellows found that Mark's intentions were friendly they were quiet enough—"

"Yes, father; in a dull, stupid, heavy sort of way they seemed quite disposed to be friends. Besides, Mak seemed to do what he liked with them."

"That's satisfactory," said Sir James. "We don't want to set the doctor to work extracting arrows from any of us, and I am thoroughly averse to our using our weapons against any of these people, big or little. We had better have a halt here, doctor, for some hours, and make Mak understand that we want to visit the tribe."

"Then you will come too, father?"

"Certainly, my boy; I shall go with the doctor and have a look at them myself."

"Go with the doctor?"

"Yes. Well, I suppose you have seen enough of them?"

"No," said Mark; "I wanted to take Dr Robertson myself, and get him to see if he could do anything for that poor little fellow's wound."

"I was thinking of that myself," said the doctor; "but from your description, Mark, I am afraid that we are too late."

"Yes," said Dean gravely; "I think he's dying."

"Why too late?" said Mark. "It's only a wound."

"Only a wound," said the doctor, smiling. "It must have been a very bad one."

"It's horrible," cried Dean.

"That's why I say that I'm afraid it's too late," said the doctor. "These savage people, living their simple open-air life, heal up in a way that is wonderful. Nature is their great surgeon."

"Then why didn't this one heal up?" said Mark.

"I am not a surgeon," replied the doctor, "and I do not know what may be wrong, but I should say that the wild beast which seized him crushed some bone, with the result that splinters are remaining in the wound, causing it to fester. But we shall see."

"Then you will look, doctor?" cried Mark excitedly.

"Certainly, if I find our little patient amenable to treatment."

"Hurrah!" cried Mark. "When will you go?"

"The sooner the better. It rests with Sir James."

"Oh, I am ready," said Mark's father. "You had better see, boys, if Mak has had his share of our dinner, and send him on to say we are coming."

"That won't do, uncle," said Dean decisively.

"Why not?" asked Mark sharply.

"Mak must go with us. I am not going to let uncle tramp in amongst those horrible trees without a guide."

"Quite right, Dean," said the doctor. "We must have Mak to lead the way, and let him be our ambassador to this tribe of giants before we approach too near. We don't want them to take fright."

"Oh, I don't think they will," said Mark.

"I think quite the contrary," said the doctor, "for I believe a little tribe like this, who exist hiding in the forests, are always afraid of persecution by stronger people. There is such a thing as slavery."

"Oh, yes," said Mark hastily. "Come along, Dean; let's hunt out Mak."

There was no difficulty about that, for the Illaka had had his share of the dinner and was aiding his digestion by sleeping hard in the shade of one of the great trees at the edge of the forest, quite regardless of the cloud of flies that were buzzing about his head.

He sprang up at a touch from Mark, and seized his spear, but as soon as he was aware of what was required of him, he followed the boys to where the doctor and Sir James were waiting, the former having slung a little knapsack from his shoulders, at which the boys looked enquiringly.

"Are we going to take anybody else?" said Sir James.

"No, I wouldn't, father," cried Mark. "We shan't want protecting. They will know us again, and Mak will make them understand that you have come in peace. Besides, we have got our rifles, and I know if there is any danger Dean is such a fierce one that he could tackle the whole lot; couldn't you, old chap?"

"Don't chaff," said Dean seriously. "Go on, Mak."

And the black led the way onward along the edge of the forest till he reached the spot where he had dashed in after the pigmy.

"That isn't right," said Mark; but Mak only laughed and signed to them to come on, gliding in among the huge columnar trees for about half an hour, and in the most effortless way pressing on, looking back from time to time to see that his companions were following him.

"Well, I don't believe he's right," said Mark; "eh, Dean?"

His cousin shook his head.

"I hope he is," said Sir James; "but we are quite at his mercy."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and I don't wonder at all, boys, at your losing your way. I know I should have had to give up."

"It seems so far," said Dean, and he looked enquiringly at their guide, who stood smiling and waiting for them to come on.

At last full proof of the black's accuracy was shown by his stopping short and pointing forward.

"Well, what are you doing that for?" cried Mark, who was next to him. "Yes, all right, father; there goes one of them."

"I don't see anything," said the doctor, who came next in the single file in which they had pursued their way.

"I did; I saw a face peep round one of the trees and dart back again."

"Are you sure?" said the doctor. "I can make out scarcely anything in this darkness. Ah! Can you see anything now?"

For Mak was smiling at them, and pointing with his spear.

"No," replied Mark; "but we had better go on."

Their guide, however, seemed to differ, and signed to them to stay where they were, and then passed out of sight, leaving those he guided looking nervously at one another.

"Well, we shall be in a pretty mess, Master Mark," said Sir James, "if that Day and Martin fellow doesn't come back."

"Oh, he will come back, father," said Mark confidently.

"Yes," said the doctor, "I don't doubt that; only he may lose his way."

"Not likely," said Mark; "eh, Dean?"

"Well," said the latter, speaking rather nervously, "if we were back at the waggon and you said that I should think just as you do, but now we are here again I can't help feeling that nasty nervousness come back.— Ah!" he ejaculated, with a deep sigh of relief, for one minute the little party was anxiously peering about them in the deep gloom, looking for a way in amongst the towering trees, the next their guide had reappeared as if by magic, signing to them to come on. And five minutes later the doctor and Sir James were uttering ejaculations of wonderment not untinged with nervousness, as they found themselves in the circular opening and in the presence of about a dozen of the pigmies with their bows strung and arrows ready to be sent flying at an enemy. Every now and then too they had a glance at a little shadowy form which glided into sight for a moment and disappeared without a sound.

Meanwhile Mak had walked straight across to one of the little savages and made signs to him and uttered a word or two, as he kept on turning and pointing at the group he had led into the solitude, ending by catching one of the little fellows by the shoulder. Then sticking his spear into the damp earth he went through a pantomime which he intended to suggest that there was a bad wound about the shoulders he pressed, and pointed again and again at the doctor, and then in the direction where the injured pigmy had been left.

"He won't be able to make him understand," said Dean impatiently. "Oh, what a bother it is that we don't know their tongue!"

"I think it's all right," said Mark. "Look here," he continued, as their stalwart black drew the dwarf he held towards his party.

"What does that mean?" said the doctor.

"I don't quite know," replied Mark. "These people are all so much alike, but I think this is one I saw before, because he has got brass wire rings round his arm. Yes, I am right," continued Mark eagerly, for Mak raised his little prisoner's hand towards Mark and signed to him to extend his own.

The next moment Mark was holding the little black, boyish hand in his and pointing in the direction where the injured pigmy was nestled in his skin bed.

"Come," said Mak. "Doctor come;" and leaving Mark holding on by the pigmy's hand, he led the way as if quite at home, passing between the trees, while first one and then another of the little tribe glided away to right and left, seen for a moment, and then disappearing in the deep shade, till their stalwart guide stopped short and waited till the whole of the party had closed up. Then, as if satisfied that he had done his part, he drew back a bit and pointed downward.

"Well, Mark, what next?" said the doctor.

"That's the spot where the little wounded fellow is lying," said Mark.

"But I can do nothing here in this darkness," said the doctor. "We must have a light."

"Oh," cried Mark excitedly, "how stupid! Here, I know; Mak shall tell them to make a fire in the opening, and he must carry the poor little fellow out."

"Oh, I have provided for that," said the doctor, and swinging round his knapsack he took it off and opened it, and in a very few minutes he had struck a match, which blazed up brightly and brought forth a low murmur of excitement from the hidden pigmies who evidently surrounded them.

"Never saw a match before," said Mark, as if to himself, while directly after as the wick of a little lamp burned up brightly behind the glass which sheltered its flame, there was another murmur of astonishment and a faint rustling sound as of a tiny crowd collecting to see this wonder which gave light like a brand taken from a fire.

It was but a small flame, but sufficient to find reflectors in many eyes which peered behind the trees, and as by the light of this little illumination the doctor went down on one knee beside the wounded pigmy, who gazed up at him in wonder, he drew off the white handkerchief, the one with which Dan had supplied Mark clean washed that morning.

"Come closer, Mark," said the doctor. "I want you to hold the lamp."

Mark released the hand of the little savage, which clung to his tightly, and went round behind the injured pigmy's head, meeting the wondering eyes, and laying his hand upon the little fellow's head with a friendly touch, before gazing anxiously down and watching the doctor's movements.

There was a faint gasp to follow the doctor's first touch, and a low thrilling sound arose, evidently from a group of watchers behind the trees.

"Medical men go through strange experiences, Mark," said the doctor, in a low tone, "but not many have such a case as this."

"'Tis rather horrid," said Mark.

"Hold the light lower, so as to throw it just upon his shoulder."

Mark obeyed.

"Well, I suppose I had better go on," said the doctor quietly, "and hope that I shall not have half a dozen spears stuck into me if my patient shrieks out."

"Shall you hurt him much?" said Mark.

"I shall hurt him," said the doctor, upon whose busy fingers the light now played.

"What a horrid wound!" said Mark.

"Bad enough to kill him from mortification!" said the doctor softly. "Yes, just as I expected. Here's a long splinter of the bone festering in this great wound—I should say small wound, poor little chap! I'm afraid mine is going to be rough surgery, but this piece must come out. What's to be done?"

"Take it out," said Mark.

"Do you dare hold his arm up?"

"Yes," said Mark, "if it's to do him good."

"It is, of course; but these people looking on don't know. Ah, lucky thought—tell Mak to bend over and hold the light. Then you raise the poor little fellow's arm, and I'll do the best I can."

The change was made, the doctor busied himself, and in the course of his manipulations there was a bright flash of light as the little lantern played for a few seconds upon the keen blade of a small knife which the doctor took from his case, while consequent upon its use a faint cry escaped from the wounded black, and there was a low murmur, which sounded ominous to Mark's ears.

"Ah," said the doctor, in the most unruffled way, "no wonder the poor fellow's in such a state. Here, Mak—water—water. Let the arm sink down now, Mark, and take the light again. I want water, and I ought to have a basin and sponge. What can you get the water in? I don't want to wait while he is going back to the waggons. I can manage if you will only bring the water."

There was probably some spring in the forest known to the pigmies, and after some little time two good-sized gourds were brought full of the refreshing fluid.

"Now, Mark, send Mak to get some of that fresh green moss from off the trees."

This was done, the wound carefully cleansed and dried, a piece of lint saturated with some of the contents of a bottle the doctor took from his case, and the moistened antiseptic linen was applied to the wound, the whole being carefully bandaged and secured, before the doctor rose from his knees.

"There," said he, "this is a curious experience."

"But will he get better now, doctor?"

"I can't say. I don't know. What I do know is that I don't think he would have lived another week with his arm in that state. It was all going bad, from shoulder to elbow. I must dress it again to-morrow, and then we shall see."

"Then that means that we are not going on to-morrow," said Sir James.

"I am at your orders, sir."

"No," said Mark's father; "you are captain, doctor, and I don't think we ought to be in such a hurry to get on. I should like to see a little more of the habits of these people and how they live. There must be a great deal to interest us, so certainly we will stay for a day or two, and see how your patient is."

"Well, now let's get back to the waggons," said the doctor. "I suppose they won't try to stop us."

So far from it, the little people seemed less shy and retiring, many more than they had seen before pressing forward to get a glimpse of the doctor's lamp, and a low sigh as of astonishment escaped from their lips as the light was extinguished, while a peculiar silence afterwards reigned as under the guidance of Mak the little party started back for the waggons.

"I wonder what they think about it all, father," said Mark, as soon as they had reached the edge of the forest, for very few words had been spoken while they were threading their way through the depressing darkness, while a feeling of light-heartedness and of relief came over all as they gazed around at the soft refulgent glow of the sunset.

"Well," said Sir James, "they ought to be very much obliged, and I suppose they must think that we have done the little fellow good. But I couldn't help noticing—I don't know what you thought, doctor—that there was a something wanting in them. There was more of the animal and less of the ordinary human being about them. Why, they were degrees lower in the scale of humanity than our friend the Illaka."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and they seem quite to lookup to him as a superior being. I fancy that, driven by the oppression of superior tribes to take refuge in the gloom and moisture of this great forest, they have never had the opportunity of making any further advance than has come to them naturally for the supporting of their ordinary animal wants."

"I daresay you are right, doctor," said Sir James, "but I have never studied these things. What you say is very reasonable, and I am sure of one thing—they displayed more timidity, more fear, than you would find in such a race as that fellow Mak came from."

"Yes, that must be it, father; and I think we should feel just the same if we were always shut up in that great forest."

The next morning it was arranged that the boys should be out at daybreak to pay a visit to the roosting trees of the guinea-fowl, under the guidance of Mak, while the doctor and Sir James were to be out with Bob Bacon across the plain to try for a buck or two, Peter Dance being still very unwell and stiff, and evincing a strong desire to keep away from the boys and his master, a fact which brought forth the following remark from Dean:

"I say, Mark," he said, after a deep fit of thinking, "both Buck and Dunn Brown were quite right."

"What about?"

"That letting the fire out."

"Why do you say that?"

"A guilty conscience needs no accuser. He's horribly uncomfortable for fear uncle should speak to him about it."

"Yes, but he needn't be afraid; we shan't say anything. He has been punished enough."

It was still dark, and Dean was sleeping heavily after rather an uneasy night. It had been a long time before he could get to sleep, and then his dreams were tinged with a nightmare-like feeling of being forced to go on journeying through hundreds of miles of forest where the tall trunks of the trees were so crowded together that he could hardly force his way between them; and when utterly breathless and exhausted he lay down to rest he could not enjoy that rest for the trouble he had to go through with the little thin, weird, sickly looking black, who had got hold of his toe and kept on pulling at it to make him get up and come to dress his wound.

"You must wait till the doctor comes," he muttered. "You must wait till the doctor comes," he muttered again, "and—who's that? What is it?" he exclaimed, quite aloud.

"What's the matter with you?" cried Mark, who had been roused by his cry.

"Let go of my toe, and I will tell you," cried Dean angrily, and he tried to draw it up, but only to suffer a sharp jerk.

"Bother your old toe!" said Mark drowsily. "What's the matter?"

"Now, none of your silly games," cried Dean, making a vain effort to kick. "Be quiet, or you will wake uncle and the doctor directly."

"You mean you will," growled Mark drowsily. "Go to sleep."

"Go to sleep! Why—oh, it's you, is it?"

"Get up; get up. Come back—come back!" came from just outside the waggon, and Dean was fully awake now to the fact that Mak was leaning over the hind waggon chest and reaching in to try this novel way of waking him up to carry out the arrangement made overnight.

"All right, Mak. Coming. Rouse up, Mark, or we shall be too late."

"Eh? Yes; all right."

A few minutes later the boys were off, double guns on shoulders and a plentiful supply of number five cartridges in their belts, with the dimly-seen figure of Mak striding away in front.

"I did feel so sleepy," said Mark.

"I didn't," said Dean. "I could do nothing but dream about trying to get through the forest. Ugh!" he added, with a shiver. "It was horrid!"

"What was horrid?"

"Being lost."

"Yes; it wasn't nice. I wonder how that poor little chap is this morning. I hope he will get well; and I say—I wish Bob Bacon was coming with us instead of going after the buck. He would just have enjoyed this."

"Yes, and made black Mak jealous. He doesn't like it when he's left behind. I say, shan't we be too late?"

"N-no, I think not," replied Mark. "Mak knows best about this sort of thing; only we had better step out, for we ought to take back a few brace for the larder. I say, what a lot we do eat!"

Half an hour after the grove-like edge of the forest was reached, and waiting for a chance the boys let drive with both barrels right into a spot where they could see the birds of which they were in search clustering together quite low down upon some nearly leafless boughs, and for a few minutes the Illaka was busy enough picking up the dead and chasing the wounded runners, and tying their legs together so as to make a bundle of the toothsome birds.

Then tramping on along the edge of the forest in search of another resting-place, they tramped in vain, for the pintados for some reason or another were exceedingly wary that morning, flock after flock going whirring off before their persecutors could get within shot.

"Well," said Mark, at last, "it is no use going any farther, so we may as well get back with what we have shot. My word, it is a poor lot! I wonder whether the doctor has had better luck. If he hasn't, with so many mouths to feed we shall be running short. Well, let's get back;" and in spite of invitations from Mak to "Come, shoot," the boys shook their heads and trudged back in a rather disappointed frame of mind.

"It never rains but it pours," grumbled Mark, as they reached the waggon, for he was greeted by the doctor, who had been back some time, with, "Is that all you have got?"

"Yes," said Mark sourly, for he wanted his breakfast. "How many springbok have you shot?"

"Ah, you may well ask that. I made three misses, your father two, and then Bob Bacon had a turn, and he says he hit, but the last I saw of the one he shot at was when it was going like the wind."

"I say," said Mark, "what's to be done, doctor? Father said we were to lay up game enough to last two days, and—bother! Here's Dan coming up grinning, to ask what he's to cook this morning."

"I don't know," said the doctor; "but hallo! Whom have we got here?"

"The pigmies!" cried Mark excitedly. "Oh, doctor, I hope they haven't come to tell us that your little patient is dead!"

"Well, it's plain enough that they have not," replied the doctor. "I say, you mustn't talk of their being animal-like and not far removed from the apes. Why, boys, they take me for a real surgeon, and have come to bring me my fees."

For to the surprise of all, the little party of their find of the previous day marched boldly up to where their white friends were standing, two of them walking in front with their little spears over their shoulders, and bows in hand, while they were followed by four of their companions, each pair of the latter bearing a fair-sized buck slung from a spear which rested on their shoulders.

There was a half-shrinking, timid look upon their sombre countenances, but they came close up, lowered down the bucks at Mark's feet, slipped out the spears, and then turned and fled, plunging in amongst the bushes, and then under the pendant boughs of the outer lines of the trees, and were gone.

"Here, hi! Hi! Hi!" cried Mark, as he ran after them; but he came back at the end of a few minutes, out of breath. "Never got another sight of them," he said.

"Good job!" cried Dean. "I was afraid you'd get lost again amongst the trees."

"Were you?" said Mark. "You see, I knew better: I wanted my breakfast too badly. I say, doctor, think of this! Where's that Dan? Hot steaks for breakfast! But did you know that little pigmy again?"

"No. Which one?"

"One of those that came in front with a spear over his shoulder. I knew him again by the brass rings on his arms, and—I didn't notice it yesterday—he'd got them on his ankles too."

"No," said the doctor, "I did not notice that; but I did see that he had a brass ferrule at one end of his spear, and another to fix in the blade."

"He must be a sort of chief," said Mark. "Oh, here, Mak—see what your little friends have brought!" and the boy pointed to the two small-sized slender-legged bucks, the sight of which made the black's countenance expand in a grin of satisfaction.

"Here, call up Dunn Brown. He will be seeing to the ponies. Send him here, and tell Bob Bacon to come too. They will help Dan to skin and break up the game."

It was a long speech for the black to interpret, but the names of his camp companions and the sight of the bucks were quite sufficient, and Mak stalked off.

It was decided to stay that day, and towards noon, when it was turning very hot, the doctor proposed that they should shoulder their guns, take Mak for guide and Bob Bacon as bearer of any game they might shoot, and then walk along the edge of the forest beneath the shade of the trees. Sir James declined to accompany them, saying that he was sure that it would be too hot, so after explaining to the black what they intended to do, the party started off, getting a shot or two at large turkey or bustard-like birds, till without orders Mak turned into the forest and led the way in amongst the trees.

"Hi! Stop! Where are you going?" cried Mark. "Let him alone. Never mind. I meant to go into the pigmies' little camp towards evening and see how my patient is. Mak evidently thinks we mean him to go there now." It proved that they were some distance beyond where they had entered the woody labyrinth on the previous day, but their guide was at no loss, and after about an hour's walking the black set up a long, low, penetrating, owl-like cry, which before long was answered from apparently a great distance, but which must have been close at hand, for before a couple of minutes had elapsed a pair of the pigmies glided into sight, turned and led the way back from which they had come, guiding the party through many devious windings amongst the trees, right to their amphitheatre-like camp.

And now there was no display of bent bow and arrow drawn to the head, but the members of the little tribe stood waiting between the trees in solemn silence, watching their visitors to see what they would do.

"Water, Mak," cried the doctor. "Tell them what I want. You have been here twice, Mark, and can guide me to the spot where the little fellow lies."

"Yes, all right," said Mark eagerly, and he made one or two attempts to find the place he wanted, but gave up, with a look of annoyance. "You see, we came in a different way yesterday, and that has bothered me, because the trees are all alike right round, and—here, one of you—I mean you," he continued, beckoning to the little fellow he supposed to be a chief. "Wounded pigmy—bad arm—doctor's come to see him. Come, surely you can understand that?"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Dean. "I say, Mark, you are getting on badly with the language! I could have managed it as well as that."

"Well, go on; why don't you manage?" cried Mark. Dean accepted the challenge, took a step or two, caught the little chief by the arm, pointed in amongst the trees, and then put his hand to his own face and closed his eyes as if sleeping.

The little chief watched him attentively, and then led them in between the trees at the opposite side to where Mark had made the attempt, and the two boys and their little leader disappeared just as Mak and a couple more of the tribe joined the doctor with the two gourds of the previous day re-filled with clear spring water.

The boys found the place where the injured little black was lying, as dark as ever, but they made out that his eyes were closed, and that he was sleeping heavily, for he had not heard their approach, and Mark was bending down watching him intently when the doctor, guided by Mak, silently approached.

"Asleep, eh?" he said. "Come, that's a good sign. Quite calmly too. That's a proof that he's not in pain." But perhaps from a feeling that others were present, the little fellow awoke with a start and stared up at his watchers with rather a scared look till he recognised who had come, when, though no muscle of his serious little countenance betokened the dawning of a smile, his eyes thoroughly laughed as they encountered those of the doctor, who knelt down by his side.

"Well, monster," said the latter good-humouredly, "you are better, that's plain."

The pigmy raised his right hand, passed it across and gently stroked the white bandage the doctor had secured about the wounded limb.

"Yes," said the doctor. "It's rather soon, and I'm half disposed to wait till to-morrow."

"Better not," said Mark. "Father may have said we had better get on."

"H'm!" said the doctor, as he softly drew the little hand away and then laid his own upon the bandage. "Rather hot," he said gently. "No wonder, after what I had to do yesterday. Yes, it can't do any harm to re-dress it;" and to Mark's surprise he drew out a little bundle of lint and a roll of bandage from his breast-pocket, setting to work at once, laying bare the terrible wound, which he bathed and cleansed, and then after drying it tenderly he applied a fresh piece of lint soaked with the antiseptic drops from the little bottle, which also made its appearance from the doctor's pocket.

"I didn't know you had come prepared, doctor," said Mark, as he supported the arm so that his companion could easily apply the fresh bandage; and when this was done he laid it gently back by the little savage's side, looking at him admiringly the while, for he had not even winced.

"There," said the doctor, "I begin to think nature will do the rest for you; but I will come in and see you again. Why, hallo!" he continued. "I didn't know we had such an audience as this."

For every tree seemed to have a little face peering round it watching what was going on, and some of the grave, serious-looking eyes were undoubtedly those of the little women, none of whom now shrank away as the doctor moved back towards the amphitheatre.

"There, Mak," cried Mark, "tell this little chief that we are much obliged for the two springboks."

The black stared at him.

"How stupid!" said Dean. "Much obliged!"

"Well, you try," said Mark angrily. "I wasn't going to pretend to chew and lick my lips as if the steaks were very good."

"Why not?" said Dean mockingly. "You know they were."

"Well, aren't you going to tell him better?" said Mark scoffingly.

"No, I'm not. Come on."

They made their way back, to find an early supper of venison awaiting them, and that night the boys lay talking in the waggon about the doctor's patient and the next day's visit, till Dean dropped off to sleep, but only to be woke up directly by Mark.

"Don't begin snoozing yet," he said.

"Bother! What did you wake me up for?"

"I want you to practise pigmy, and teach me how to say, 'Thank you; much obliged for the venison.'"

"You go to sleep; and if you wake me like that again I'll kick you out of bed."

"Can't; we haven't got one."

"Old Clever!"

"But I say, seriously; isn't it a pity the doctor doesn't know Illakee, or whatever they call it? I fancy he will soon be able to make Mak understand."

"Yes," said Dean drowsily. "Who would ever have thought he could play at surgeon like that? I believe he could do anything if he liked."

"Yes. I will tell him you said so when we are on our way to Wonder Wood to-morrow morning."

But Mark did not, for they did not go to Wonder Wood, as the boy called it, for the simple reason that a strange surprise awaited them just as Dan had announced that breakfast was ready.

"What is for breakfast this morning?" said Mark.

"Flapjack, sir, buck bones stooed, and tea."

"Tea, and no milk!" said Mark grumpily. "Why, if we had thought of it—"

"Yes, sir," said Dan, catching him up sharply, "I did think of it, only last night, when I was wondering what I should get ready for breakfast."

"Why, what did you think of?" said Mark sharply.

"That it would have been as easy as easy, sir, to have had half a dozen bullocks less in the teams, and—"

"Why, what difference would that make?" said Mark. "What good would that do?"

"Why, we could have had cows, Mr Mark, sir, and then there would have been butter, and milk for the tea and coffee every day."



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

SMALL FRIENDS.

But they might have had fresh venison steaks for breakfast that morning instead of the "buck bones stooed," as Dan called his dish, or rather, tin, for as the party took their seats beneath the wide-spreading tree where the meal was spread, they were all startled by quite a little procession winding amongst the trees. At least fifty of the pigmies were approaching, led by the miniature chief in his bangles and with his ornamented spear, and ended by four of the little fellows bearing a neatly woven hurdle upon which lay the doctor's patient, carried shoulder high.

"Tell them to set him under that tree, Mak," said the doctor—"yonder."

He pointed to the place meant, and had a little difficulty in making their guide understand.

"I had better make that my surgery, boys," said the doctor, as he hurriedly finished his breakfast, and moved into the shade where the black, glossy-skinned little fellows were waiting patiently, ready to gaze at him with something like awe. They formed a half circle a short distance away, while he went down on one knee beside the hurdle, Mark and Dean standing just behind, and Dan, according to the orders he received, having ready a bowl, a sponge, a can of water, and the doctor's case, while Sir James seated himself against a tree and Mak, spear-armed, stood beside him, looking frowning and important, as if everyone was working under his orders.

"Capital!" said the doctor, as he examined the wound, and then proceeded to re-dress it, Dan grasping his wants as readily as if he had been a surgeon's mate on board a man-of-war.

To the surprise of the boys the little patient evinced no sense of pain, and when the doctor had finished, his face lit up with the nearest approach to a smile that had been seen upon the countenance of any of the pigmies.

"Getting on splendidly," said the doctor, patting him on the shoulder. "There, you may go."

At the word "go," Mak, who had been standing like a black marble statue, started into life, and a word or two, accompanied by signs, resulted in the little bearers coming quickly forward, raising the hurdle, and beginning to move off, followed by the rest of the party, and a few minutes later they had disappeared amongst the trees.

"Well," said the doctor, "it doesn't seem as if they are dissatisfied with my treatment."

"No," replied Mark, laughing; "and they seem ready enough to pay your fees."

"Yes, and I must make haste and get our little friend well, which he soon will be, for Nature will do the rest; but I don't suppose we shall see any more of them, for people of such a low grade of civilisation would probably soon forget. But we must get on. I want to discover Captain Lawton's ancient city."

"Yes, I want to see that," cried Dean. "One doesn't want to be always hunting and shooting."

"That's right, Dean. The sooner we are off the better. Oh, here comes Mak. Let's stir him up again about where the big stones are."

"He will only point with his spear at the forest as if they were there," said Mark, "and of course we can't drive the bullocks through."

"No," said Dean; "but he may mean that the old ruins are on the other side."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and that we can go round, for we are evidently skirting the edge of this primaeval jungle."

"Skirting the edge!" said Mark, laughing. "Oh, yes—like skirting the edge of the world, and we shall be coming out some day—some year, I mean, right on the other side of America. I don't believe there are any old stones. It's all what-you-may-call-it."

"All what-you-may-call-it, you young sceptic!" said the doctor, laughing. "Well, what do you call it, for I don't know?"

"Trade—tradesman—trading—trade—"

"'Dition," suggested Dean.

"Yes, that's it—all a tradition. I could only think of hunting a will-o'-the-wisp."

"I don't think so," said the doctor. "The captain said some of the hunting parties had seen the great stones in the distance."

"And he said too that they might have been kopjes. And I don't believe that those who came hunting ever ran against these trees, or saw these little pigmy chaps, or else they would have talked about it."

"Similar people were seen by some of our travellers, but that was farther north and more central."

"But I don't see why we should be in such a hurry to get on. We are very comfortable here," said Mark.

"Why do you say that?" said the doctor, looking at the boy searchingly. "You have some reason for it?"

"Well," said Mark hesitating, "I should like to see more of these little people. They amuse me. They are not much bigger than children, and they are such solemn, stolid little chaps. I don't believe any of them ever had a good laugh in their lives."

"That's because they never see any sunshine," said Dean sententiously. "I believe they just have a run outside the forest to stick an arrow or two into the springboks, and then run into the shade again. It's the sun makes one want to laugh, and I should be just as serious if I always lived under those trees."

"Well, I daresay they will bring my patient again to-morrow morning, and we will wait till then, and afterwards I should propose that we journey on at once."

"But you said you were going to ask Mak again about where the big stones are," said Mark, and he signed to the black, who was standing leaning upon his spear watching them, and now in response to the boy's signal, came up at once.

"You ask him, my boy," said the doctor, who was carefully examining the contents of his knapsack and tightening the cork of the little bottle before rolling it up again in the lint and bandages.

Mark seized the opportunity.

"Here, Mak," he cried, "big stones? Where?"

The black turned at once and pointed with his spear in the direction of the forest.

"There, I told you so!" said Mark. Then to the black, "Well, go on; show the way."

Mak, who evidently understood, swung himself half round, and now pointed right along to the edge of the forest.

"That's clear enough, Mark," said the doctor. "He means we have to go round, keeping to the edge and along the open plain where the bullocks can trek."

"Buck Denham—trek!" cried Mak, nodding his head, and using his spear to indicate the direction.

"Big stones," said the doctor, and he now pointed along the edge of the forest.

"Mak find," said the black, nodding his head vigorously.

"Oh, it's evident enough," said the doctor quietly. "He knows what we want, and some day will guide us there. Well, we have plenty of time, boys, and I suppose you are in no hurry to get back to the manor?"

"No, no, of course not; but I do want to see that little fellow again."

Mark had his desire fulfilled the next morning at daybreak, when instead of the numerous procession, the little chief, as they considered him, appeared, accompanied only by the four bearers with the patient and four others well loaded with twice as many big turkey-like birds, one of which showed the way in which they had been obtained, for a broken arrow projected from its back.

The game was handed over to the white foreloper, who bore the birds off to the fire to begin plucking them, the two keepers joining him to quicken the task, while the bearers set down the hurdle beneath the tree, and quite as a matter of course Dan appeared with the tin bowl and a bucket of water. Mark hurriedly fetched the doctor's knapsack and helped over the dressing of the wound, watching the while the change which had come over the little patient who lay seriously and fixedly gazing at Mark, while, as soon as the task was completed he stretched out his uninjured arm so that he could touch Mark's hand. As on the previous morning Mak stood like a spear-armed sentry till all was over, uttered a word or two like an order, and the pigmy party marched back to the edge of the forest and disappeared.

"Well, Mark," said the doctor, who had been very observant, "I suppose that touch meant 'Thank you and good-bye.' But he might have paid me the same compliment. However, he evidently considers you to be the chief."