"You got to remember that we've only been gone a few days," replied Critch. "Cap'n Mac had to get well, too. Tell you what, pard, we're powerful lucky not to be in his fix just about now."
"Well, mebbe you're enjoying yourself a whole lot," retorted Burt, "but I ain't. Golly, don't this ol' place smell like all get out? You ought to be over here, Critch, with the bones and things. I wish Mbopo—"
"S-sh!" came a mutter from the other. "I hear something down the line. Here's my box of matches." An object fell near Burt's hand. "I'll be back just as soon—lay low!"
Burt, lying in the shadow cast by his chum, heard a light shuffle of feet and then Mbopo appeared in the doorway, holding another little figure by the hand, while a third followed reluctantly.
"Him bruder," grinned the dwarf happily. "Him scared. T'ink Pongo kill. Kill lion—where bruder gone?"
The three dwarfs were standing within the entrance now, gazing fearfully at Critch and the dim surroundings.
"My brother very bad," answered the boy slowly, pointing to the ankh. "Him take axe, hit Pongo. Pongo hit him with fire, burn him up," and he moved the single lamp a trifle so that the light fell full on the mummy beside him.
Had the situation not been so serious Burt could have laughed at the sickly gray look which overspread the features of the pigmies as they fell to their knees. With one frightened groan all three buried their faces in the dirt. Critch knew it was time to act and rose to his feet.
"Get up!" commanded the boy sternly. He took the dwarfs by the hand and raised them up one by one. "Pongo him mad. Him say no kill lion yet. Him say take to village." Critch pointed at the village and the pigmies comprehended.
Then he patted them on the back and smiled and little by little their fears were overcome. Taking a spear from Mbopo he passed it through the loop of the golden ankh and signed to the two brothers to raise it.