more pieces of gorilla meat which he tucked in his waist-band, and
shouldering his axe and humming to himself his grim war-song, he set
out at the same swinging dog-trot on his long trip to the river
bank. With the vitality common to such men, his brief rest and
refreshment had rendered his tired frame as vigorous as ever and
there was no trace of fatigue in the steady trot of the ebony figure
as it plunged into the dark forest and vanished.

A second later, however, the figure reappeared as a noise of voices
was heard drawing nearer down a forest trail. Throwing himself on
his face and lying as motionless as a fallen log, the Krooman
watched as Muley-Hassan and his followers--almost worn out and sadly
diminished in numbers since their fight with the boys and with the
cannibals--appeared. True, they had beaten the latter off, but at
great loss to themselves, and the few men that now limped forward--
urged on only by the fierce voice of Diego and Muley-Hassan--
appeared ready to drop in their tracks from exhaustion.

"A hundred pounds of ivory to every man of you if we get there
before they have cleaned the place out," the Arab was shouting by
way of encouraging his men. Old Sikaso, with a grim chuckle,
watched them make their way up the mountain-side and then laughed
softly to himself as their imprecations of rage and fury broke out
as they reached the cache--and found it empty!

Somewhat cheered by the vigorous Ben, who proposed to paddle down
the river to the nearest settlement himself the next day, if some
news were not heard of Billy and Lathrop, the boys were preparing
for bed that evening--the bed consisting of the floor of the Golden
Eagle's stripped cabin--when they were startled by Ben holding up a