The chief emerged from his yard, and, with head bowed down, led the way to where the people were standing. Immediately behind him were the ten deputies, carrying a strange-looking log of wood shoulder high.
With measured tread these natives walked under their heavy burden.
When the center of the tribe’s gathering had been reached, the chief ordered the men to set down their load.
Instantly there was a cry of rapture from every man there assembled.
The women pressed forward, and really screamed with delight.
“From the gods!” exclaimed the chief, and these poor, benighted savages really believed it.
The log was in reality a dugout, and in the dugout two young men were sleeping the sleep of exhaustion.
They were our friends, Ibrahim and Max, rescued by the Gondos, and now the objects of their adoration.
The shouting of the men, the screeching of the women, caused Max to awake.
He sprang to his feet and looked round.