"It's a tough customer, whatever it is, and I hope that it is the last of its kind. Do you know that we have no more water?"
"I shall examine the contents of the stomach, and I fully expect to find that its usual prey is the monkey."
"It had a great hankering for white man, at any rate. Did you hear me say there was no water?"
"Its hind legs are very much longer than the fore legs—another proof of an arboreal existence. It's a most important find. I wish Mr. Hume were here."
"So do I," said Compton, heartily, stirring the jackal with his foot.
That sagacious animal rose slowly, stretched itself, one leg at a time, sniffed at the dead leopard, or tree-lion, whatever it was, and then curled itself up again.
"Coo-ee—coo-ee!" came out of the woods.
"Coo-ee!" replied Compton, to the glad sound. "Coo-ee!" and he fired off his gun.
Muata's shrill whistle pierced through the files of trees, and the jackal slunk away.
"Hurrah!" yelled Compton, taking off his cap. "Hurrah! Here we are— all safe!"