"The knife you can take, chief, and food; but we will miss you. Put him up some biltong, Venning."

Venning hesitated.

"Put up some for me too," said Compton, peremptorily.

Mr. Hume raised his brows.

"I mean it so, sir. You will remember that my great hope was to find some trace of my father; and who can this white man be if he is not my father? Will you take me with you, chief?"

The chief shook his head. "This river-man and I go together on the trail."

Compton stormed and begged; but the chief remained silent, with his eyes on Mr. Hume.

"What's all the fuss about?" put in Venning. "We have come here to explore and hunt, not to crawl for ever up a river. What is to prevent us all from following on the track of the cannibals?"

"If Compton had made that suggestion," said Mr. Hume, "we could at least have considered it calmly in the interest of the whole party; but he has thought only of himself."

"I am awfully sorry," said Compton, firing up. "I did not think."

"No," said the hunter, drily; "otherwise you would have known that I would not permit you to leave us."

"Of course I could not break up the party," said Compton, eagerly; "but you will think over Venning's proposal, won't you, sir? We have come to explore the forest. Let us begin now when we have such a good reason."

"Do you hear, Muata; the young men say that we should all follow on the trail?"

"It is my quarrel," said the chief, not jumping at the offer.

Mr. Hume smoked in silence.

"Yet the man-eaters are strong," Muata said presently.

"They have also guns given by the man-stealers. The great one and the young lions would be worth many men; but the forest is dark, the way is hard, and not fit for white men."

Mr. Hume grunted.

"When Muata goes on the war-path, he fights his own way, on his own plan. On the war-path Muata is chief."

The hunter turned his calm eyes on the wild river-man.

"Chief of one."

"Of one or none, it does not matter, great one; since to be chief is to do what is best."

"Your plans are your own. Consider. If we go, we will do nothing to spoil those plans; but, in the end, if you want help to rescue the wise woman--your mother--then we will be ready to help you."

"It is a good word; but consider also, great one, that those who walk the forest must know the forest, and those who know the forest must lead, lest there be divided counsels, and wanderings that lead nowhere but to death."

"Am I, then, a boy at this work?"

"Wow! That was not my thought; but the lion hunts in the open land, the tiger in the bush. If the lion roared in the forest, see, the evil ones would hear and prepare a trap for him."

"Well, chief, hear this. In all things I will take your advice. If it is good, we will follow it; if bad, you can go your own way."

"It is well," said the chief, slowly. "I and this man will follow on the trail to find whither it leads. Tomorrow we will return, and if the great one is then of the same mind, we will start."

"Good. In the mean time we will find a place where we can leave the boat, with such things as we do not need."

Muata glanced at the old Arab, then said softly, "When you have found your hiding-place, see that ye three only know of it." He nodded his head. "I would trust no man with the secret. I should not like to know of it myself, for the things you have would make one of us rich."

With a little packet of food, his Ghoorka knife, and his jackal, Muata entered the dug-out, and landed again on the clearing. They waved their hands to him, and then turned their attention to the old Arab, who was sipping a cup of coffee with every sign of satisfaction.

"Old man, we go soon on the trail of the cannibals into the forest where you could not follow. What shall we do with you?"

"As Allah wills," was the resigned reply.

"Think. Is there any village where you would be safe until we return?"

"Few who enter the forest ever return. A day's journey in a canoe there is a path in the wood that leads to a village. If I could reach the path, it would do; but----"

The Okapi straightway continued up the dark river, through the silence of the sombre woods, and the old man drank his coffee, and then gave himself up to the pleasure of tobacco, with his dull eyes fixed on Compton.

In the afternoon he pointed to a palm-tree. "There is a path," he said.

"Is there anything you would like?" asked Compton.

"Coffee is good, and tobacco is a great comforter."

They made him up a packet of these luxuries, and added a blanket.

"Allah is good," he muttered.

"After we have recovered the wise woman, maybe we will search you out, for we look, then, for the Garden of Rest."

"Ay, so he called it. The Garden of Rest, and the gates thereof.

Ay, I would see the place again."

"You know it?" Compton said eagerly. "Then you must have known my father."

"A white man I knew, effendi. The good white man, many years ago; and my old eyes told me that you were of his blood. If the forest gives you up, search for this path and follow it; and if I be alive, I would go to that place in the clouds. Allah be with you."

"And with you."

The Okapi was driven into the bank, and the old man stepped ash.o.r.e.

"See that you keep your counsel, my friend," Said Mr. Hume. "We want no prowlers about our camp."

They turned the Okapi down-stream again, and considered where they should hide her, for that was a thing to be done with the utmost care. It was, however, very difficult to decide; for in the screen of the wood, all along the banks, every spot seemed the same, and there were many reasons against tying up in some dark retreat and leaving the precious craft to its fate, at the mercy of the rising or falling water, and at the risk of discovery by prowling fishermen.