“He has come upon the natives at last, doctor,” I said softly. “What shall we do?”
“Retreat if they are enemies; go up to them if they are friendly,” said the doctor; “only we can’t tell which, my lad. Ours is a plunge in the dark, and we must risk it, or I do not see how we are to get on with our quest.”
“Shall we put on a brave face and seem as if we trusted them then?” I said.
“But suppose they’re fierce cannibals,” whispered Jack Penny, “or as savage as those fellows down by the river? Ain’t it rather risky?”
“No more risky than the whole of our trip, Penny,” said the doctor gravely. “Are you afraid?”
“Well, I don’t know,” drawled Jack softly. “I don’t think I am, but I ain’t sure. But I sha’n’t run away. Oh, no, I sha’n’t run away.”
“Come along then,” said the doctor. “Shoulder your rifle carelessly, and let’s put a bold front upon our advance. They may be friendly. Now, Jimmy, lead the way.”
The black’s eyes glittered as he ran to the front, stooping down almost as low as if he were some animal creeping through the bush, and taking advantage of every shrub and rock for concealment.
He went on, with Gyp close at his heels, evidently as much interested as his leader, while we followed, walking erect and making no effort to conceal our movements.
We went on like this for quite a quarter of a mile, and the doctor had twice whispered to me that he believed it was a false alarm, in spite of Jimmy’s cautionary movements, and we were about to shout to him to come back, when all at once he stopped short behind a rugged place that stood out of the mountain slope, and waved his waddy to us to come on.