"Row," said Phra, "and keep the boat stationary."
The rower dipped his oar gently, and the boat ceased to retrograde.
"What rum little customers they are!" said Harry, as he watched the place where the grey head had disappeared. "Just like a little old man watching us. Think they're gone now?"
"No; look."
Harry was looking, and saw at the same moment the little face cautiously thrust out again, but withdrawn as he made a threatening movement with his gun.
Then all was perfectly still for a minute.
"Perhaps they're gone now," said Harry.
"No; they are too inquisitive. I daresay there are fifty of them hidden in among the boughs."
"I think they're gone," said Harry at the end of another minute.
"Well, try. Go on," said Phra, and the oar was once more silently plied, gently disturbing the water, while at the same moment the wave in the trees began again, with its gentle rustling, showing that the monkey troop was once more travelling along just in front, scaring the birds away as they advanced.