"What happened, anyhow?" inquired Critch eagerly. "When I got here five minutes ago you were lyin' on your back. I thought you was dead, sure, when I saw all that blood and the wrecked hut."
Strengthened by his sleep and the food, Burt gradually regained his self-control as he related the story of that terrible night to his chum. Critch listened with eager interest, then rose and dashed into the hut. An instant later he reappeared, frowning.
"The axe is gone," he exclaimed excitedly. "Think you killed him?"
"How do I know?" retorted Burt. "I hit him as hard as I could, and I guess it landed between his eyes, but that's all I can tell."
"You must ha' landed pretty hard, then," mused Critch, "judgin' from all that blood. Anyhow, we can follow him up—"
"Do it yourself," broke in Burt. "I know just about how Cap'n Mac felt now. I wouldn't monkey with that lion again for a million dollars cash. No sir!"
"Well, I will!" cried Critch excitedly. "I can get Mbopo—"
"Oh, how did you come out?" interrupted Burt, with new interest. "I judged from the sounds that it worked all right."
"Work!" laughed Critch. "I should say it did work! Why, I've got the whole blamed tribe eatin' out o' my hand, Burt! Even Mbopo ain't quite sure whether he ought to kow-tow or kneel down when he speaks to me. It was easy!
"After we left here I had a lot of trouble trying to make the other fellows carry that ankh. They were scared to death of the thing. Before we got to the gate I fixed up the procession right. Mbopo went first with the mummy. Then come the two brothers carryin' the ankh between 'em on the spear. I come last with the mummy-case.