Chapter Eighteen.

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.

“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.”

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 amnotgoing 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.”

“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 amnotgoing 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.”

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