He was almost upon them before he perceived them, huddled just outside the entrance of their hut; his surprise at seeing them there was evident, for he stopped suddenly with an angry grunt.
"Why are you not in your hut?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper. "Which is the white boy witch-doctor? I would speak with him."
It was Intamo. The three recognized him simultaneously and knew why he had come and why he carried the knobkerrie.
"I am he," replied Doc. "What do you want of me?"
The only answer that Intamo made was to leap forward with raised bludgeon. With a cry of horror, Dick jumped to his feet and sprang between Intamo and his intended victim. With his short spear grasped in both hands and held horizontally before him and above his head he sought to break the force of Intamo's wicked blow. The knobkerrie crashed upon the stout wood of the spear haft and glanced to one side. But Intamo with the sweep of a mighty arm brushed the lad aside and swung his club again.
It was at this instant that a small, panther-like figure, springing with the agility and ferocity of one of the great jungle cats, launched itself full upon the breast of Intamo, hurling the witch-doctor to the ground. Twice a muscular arm rose and fell; twice a dull blade gleamed for an instant in the fitful firelight, then Ukundo arose from the prostrate form, but Intamo lay very still where he had fallen.
"Good old Ukundo!" whispered Dick in a broken voice that choked with a sob, for he knew that Doc had been very near to death.
"Each of you has saved my life," said Doc, "and—O, gee!—I don't know what to say!"
"Don't say anything," advised Dick. "Anyway, we aren't out of this mess yet."