“By Jove! You don’t say so.”
“Rather. I’ve got a theory that your clothes helped to save you. You were saying, Hesketh, that the only one of those who came to grief here and recovered consciousness was a Hottentot. Well, he would have had clothes on, and the Kaffirs wouldn’t.”
“Something in that, may be,” answered the old man.
A little farther on he picked up another of the tiny arrows. This one was sticking in the ground.
“The one I dodged,” he said. “Come on further.”
He led the way. Suddenly Dick Selmes gave a start.
“What’s that?” he said. “Ugh!”
“The mystery,” answered Greenoak.
The monkey-like shape lying there looked more hideous and horrible in death, if possible than when it skipped along the tree-tops.
“But what is it?”