Dick sniffed the air. "Smells like smoke," he said.
"It is smoke," exclaimed Doc, "and I can smell food cooking, too. We're saved, Dick! We're saved! It's the train! Come on!" and both boys broke into a run.
A hundred yards of brisk running brought them to a sudden stop. Before them lay a clearing in the forest at the trail's end. In the centre of the clearing was a palisade of poles surrounding an enclosure. Above the top of the palisade they could see the cone-shaped roofs of grass-thatched huts and, through the open gates that faced them, they could see the huts themselves and half-naked black people moving about. Outside the palisade some women were hoeing in a little patch of cultivated ground.
Dick and Doc took one look at the scene before them before they faced one another in silent consternation. So different from what they had expected had been this outcome of their hopes that both boys were shocked into utter speechlessness for a moment. It was Doc, as usual, who first regained control of his tongue.
"We're lost, after all," he said. "What are we going to do?"
"Maybe they're friendly natives," suggested Dick.
"Maybe they're cannibals," suggested Doc.
"I don't believe there are any cannibals any more," said Dick.
"I don't intend to take any chances on that. There may be."