“Well, now let’s get back to the waggons,” said the doctor. “I suppose they won’t try to stop us.”
So far from it, the little people seemed less shy and retiring, many more than they had seen before pressing forward to get a glimpse of the doctor’s lamp, and a low sigh as of astonishment escaped from their lips as the light was extinguished, while a peculiar silence afterwards reigned as under the guidance of Mak the little party started back for the waggons.
“I wonder what they think about it all, father,” said Mark, as soon as they had reached the edge of the forest, for very few words had been spoken while they were threading their way through the depressing darkness, while a feeling of light-heartedness and of relief came over all as they gazed around at the soft refulgent glow of the sunset.
“Well,” said Sir James, “they ought to be very much obliged, and I suppose they must think that we have done the little fellow good. But I couldn’t help noticing—I don’t know what you thought, doctor—that there was a something wanting in them. There was more of the animal and less of the ordinary human being about them. Why, they were degrees lower in the scale of humanity than our friend the Illaka.”
“Yes,” said the doctor, “and they seem quite to lookup to him as a superior being. I fancy that, driven by the oppression of superior tribes to take refuge in the gloom and moisture of this great forest, they have never had the opportunity of making any further advance than has come to them naturally for the supporting of their ordinary animal wants.”
“I daresay you are right, doctor,” said Sir James, “but I have never studied these things. What you say is very reasonable, and I am sure of one thing—they displayed more timidity, more fear, than you would find in such a race as that fellow Mak came from.”
“Yes, that must be it, father; and I think we should feel just the same if we were always shut up in that great forest.”
The next morning it was arranged that the boys should be out at daybreak to pay a visit to the roosting trees of the guinea-fowl, under the guidance of Mak, while the doctor and Sir James were to be out with Bob Bacon across the plain to try for a buck or two, Peter Dance being still very unwell and stiff, and evincing a strong desire to keep away from the boys and his master, a fact which brought forth the following remark from Dean:
“I say, Mark,” he said, after a deep fit of thinking, “both Buck and Dunn Brown were quite right.”
“What about?”