"Make us fat to eat," explained the negro.
"Golly!" cried Dick. "They're cannibals! Is that what he means?"
"Yes. Bad men. Cannibals." The black shook his head.
The boys were silent for a long time. Their thoughts were far away—far across continents and oceans to distant homes, to mothers—to all the loving and beloved friends they were never to see again.
"And to think that no one will ever know what became of us," said Dick, solemnly. "Golly! it's awful, Doc."
"It hasn't happened yet, Dick," replied his cousin; "and it's up to us to see that it doesn't happen. There must be some way to escape. Anyway we mustn't give up—not until they begin to ask which is preferred, dark meat, or light."
Dick grinned. "You bet we won't give up, Doc, old boy. We'll learn all we can from this fellow so that when the time comes we'll have a better chance of making our getaway. The first thing to do is to try to learn the language. If we only knew what they were talking about, that might help us. And anyway, if we do escape, we'll be better off if we know how to inquire our way."
"Yes, we might meet a traffic cop."