"Heaven be praised!" he cried. "My brother is still alive!"
"Alive!"
"Yes. Cortes blazed that tree, and the blaze is not one day old. Last night he was here—in the midst of the British camp."
"Are you sure of it?" asked Braid.
"I know," Fernando answered with conviction. "In the days when we hunted together we sometimes lost one another in the bush, and on such occasions we blazed the trees along the tracks of bush elephants in just such a manner as this."
Harry Urquhart looked about him.
"There is no sign of Cortes here," he said. "He cannot have left with the British?"
"No," said Fernando. "He is hiding somewhere. Let me think, where would he go. Both he and I know this district well."
The man paused a moment, standing perfectly still. Then, on a sudden, with an exclamation, he set off running towards the hills.
He did not return until long after nightfall; and then it was with the joyful news that he had found his brother, sound asleep—beside three boxes of German ammunition.