"Sit down, lad!" Captain Mac laughed and pulled him back. "It's only a bluff. Don't fash yerself over it."
"Was that all?" demanded Burt eagerly and his uncle nodded without a smile, to his intense relief.
"I'll be walkin' over yonder," declared Montenay rising. "I'll chat with 'em in their own tongue a bit, Wallace. It may do good."
For five minutes not a word was spoken. Mr. Wallace stared into the fire while the boys looked alternately at him and at the fires of the blacks, fifty yards away. Then Captain Mac strode up and with a word tossed the gleaming silver-mounted instrument into Mr. Wallace's lap.
"She's broke," he said shortly. The American calmly examined the compass, as did the boys. The glass was shattered as if a stone had smashed it, while the needle no longer swung on its pivot.
"Who had it?" asked Burt's uncle.
"Mgoro, the hunter." Captain Mac spoke quite as a matter of course and Mr. Wallace's anger seemed to have vanished suddenly. "He said he found it just outside the camp and that it was already broke. I discharged him and told him to go back in the mornin' without his wages. He's lyin', o' course."
"Of course," agreed Mr. Wallace musingly. With this the subject was closed. In the morning Mgoro was sent on the back trail in disgrace, although he still his innocence. For two days more the camp remained in the same place. Then the buffalo skin was pared down and packed and a dozen porters were sent back to Makupa with the specimens. Mr. Wallace had already arranged with the Belgian there to send them on down to Boma.
The only compass now in the party was that belonging to Montenay, who guided them. Usually Captain Mac and Burt went ahead to the right while Mr. Wallace and Critch went to the left, each party taking a number of hunters and gun bearers. Owing to their lack of compasses it was not possible to wander very far from the caravan. Every morning Captain Mac and the headman Moboro mapped out the day's march and at noon and at dark the two parties returned to the caravan.
For several days they did little shooting of any importance. Each party brought in two or three food-animals for the porters, and jackals were of course shot on sight. On the third day after leaving their "Specimen Camp," as Burt named their halting place, came their first adventure.