“No,” said the doctor, “I did not notice that; but I did see that he had a brass ferrule at one end of his spear, and another to fix in the blade.”
“He must be a sort of chief,” said Mark. “Oh, here, Mak—see what your little friends have brought!” and the boy pointed to the two small-sized slender-legged bucks, the sight of which made the black’s countenance expand in a grin of satisfaction.
“Here, call up Dunn Brown. He will be seeing to the ponies. Send him here, and tell Bob Bacon to come too. They will help Dan to skin and break up the game.”
It was a long speech for the black to interpret, but the names of his camp companions and the sight of the bucks were quite sufficient, and Mak stalked off.
It was decided to stay that day, and towards noon, when it was turning very hot, the doctor proposed that they should shoulder their guns, take Mak for guide and Bob Bacon as bearer of any game they might shoot, and then walk along the edge of the forest beneath the shade of the trees. Sir James declined to accompany them, saying that he was sure that it would be too hot, so after explaining to the black what they intended to do, the party started off, getting a shot or two at large turkey or bustard-like birds, till without orders Mak turned into the forest and led the way in amongst the trees.
“Hi! Stop! Where are you going?” cried Mark. “Let him alone. Never mind. I meant to go into the pigmies’ little camp towards evening and see how my patient is. Mak evidently thinks we mean him to go there now.” It proved that they were some distance beyond where they had entered the woody labyrinth on the previous day, but their guide was at no loss, and after about an hour’s walking the black set up a long, low, penetrating, owl-like cry, which before long was answered from apparently a great distance, but which must have been close at hand, for before a couple of minutes had elapsed a pair of the pigmies glided into sight, turned and led the way back from which they had come, guiding the party through many devious windings amongst the trees, right to their amphitheatre-like camp.
And now there was no display of bent bow and arrow drawn to the head, but the members of the little tribe stood waiting between the trees in solemn silence, watching their visitors to see what they would do.
“Water, Mak,” cried the doctor. “Tell them what I want. You have been here twice, Mark, and can guide me to the spot where the little fellow lies.”
“Yes, all right,” said Mark eagerly, and he made one or two attempts to find the place he wanted, but gave up, with a look of annoyance. “You see, we came in a different way yesterday, and that has bothered me, because the trees are all alike right round, and—here, one of you—I mean you,” he continued, beckoning to the little fellow he supposed to be a chief. “Wounded pigmy—bad arm—doctor’s come to see him. Come, surely you can understand that?”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Dean. “I say, Mark, you are getting on badly with the language! I could have managed it as well as that.”