“Where?” cried Bob, excitedly.
“In the great forest—the jungle. Will you come?”
“Will I come?” cried Bob. “Won’t I! I say,” he went on, excitedly, “you can’t shoot, can you?”
“I practise sometimes,” said the young Malay, quietly.
“What with? A blow-pipe?”
“Yes, I can use the sumpitan,” said the young Malay, nodding; “but I use a revolver or a rifle.”
“I believe I’m half asleep,” muttered Bob. “Haven’t got a gun, have you?”
“Yes; an English gentleman changed with me. I gave him ivory and gold, and he gave me his double gun.”
“Not a breechloader?” said Bob.
“Yes, a breechloader—a Purdey he called it, and a bag of cartridges.”