"And what is the kolobo?" asked Sam with interest.
"De kolobo old place on ribber-place where de white soldiers shoot from big fort-house."
"A fort!" cried Tom. "But would the authorities allow, them to go there?"
"No soldiers dare now—leave kolobo years ago. Place most tumble down now. But good place fo' robbers."
"I see. Well, follow the trail as best you can—and we'll see what we will see."
"And let us get along just as fast as we can," added Sam.
On they went through a forest that in spots was so thick they could scarcely pass. The jungle contained every kind of tropical growth, including ferns, which were beautiful beyond description, and tiny vines so wiry that they cut like a knife.
"This is tough," remarked Sam. "But I suppose it doesn't hold a candle to what is beyond."
"Werry bad further on," answered Cujo. "See, here am de trail," and he pointed it out.
Several miles were covered, when they came to a halt in order to rest and to give Aleck a let up in carrying Tom. The youth now declared his foot felt much better and hobbled along for some distance by leaning on Sam's shoulder.