The ruse worked better than they had hoped. Kamuka gained the edge of the clearing with ease. Biff gave him due time to get properly posted, then followed the same route. They had chosen it well, for it was not only the closest edge of the clearing; it was directly toward the rising sun, which would tend to dazzle anyone who looked that way.
Once in the jungle, Biff kept close to the clearing as he circled it, calling softly to Kamuka until they finally met. Again, the sun proved helpful. They had been headed toward it when they were brought here as prisoners, late in the previous afternoon. So now, they had only to move toward the morning sun to reach the jungle trail.
It was slow going, as they had to be wary of animals in the brush, yet all the while they felt the urge to hurry in case their escape had been discovered back at the Macu camp. At last, however, they came upon the trail. Then came the question: Which direction should they take?
“The safari must have come as far as we did,” declared Biff, “in fact probably a lot farther, as they were supposed to keep on coming until they overtook us.”
“But when they didn’t find us,” said Kamuka, “they must have turned back to look.”
“You may be right,” decided Biff. “They could have figured, too, that we missed the trail somewhere along the line. I’ll tell you what. Let’s go back along the trail a couple of miles anyway. If we don’t meet them, we’ll know they are up ahead.”
“And all the time,” added Kamuka, “we keep good sharp look for Macu!”
That final point was so important that both Biff and Kamuka kept paying more attention to the bordering jungle than to the trail itself. Every sound, from a bird call to a monkey howl might mean that Macu hunters were about. So could the slightest stir among the jungle flowers and the banks of surrounding plants, where at any moment, painted faces topped with wavy hair might come popping into sight as they had the afternoon before.
But there wasn’t a trace of motion in all that sultry setting until the boys reached a place where the trail took a short, sharp turn around the slanted trunk of a fallen ceiba tree. Biff, in the lead, gave a quick glad cry as he saw native bearers coming toward them, bowed under the weight of the packs they carried.
At the head of the column strode a white-clad man wearing a tropical helmet. At sight of him, Biff turned and called to Kamuka: