“Nat,” he said, wiping the perspiration from his face, “that must have been a wild-goose instead of a bird of paradise. Have you heard it lately?”
“No, uncle; not for quite a quarter of an hour. I think it must have taken a longer flight this time.”
“Yawk, yawk—wok, wok, wok, wok, wok,” rang out close behind us, and we both fired simultaneously at a faint gleam of what seemed to be yellow light as it flitted through the glade, running forward to get beyond the smoke in the hope that we might have hit it.
But even if we had we should not have been able to find it, for in the eagerness of our pursuit we had come now into one of the densest parts of the forest that we had found, and after wandering on through a faint warm glow caused by the setting sun shining through the tree trunks, a sudden dull greyness had come upon us, followed almost at once by darkness, and we knew that we were lost.
“I ought to have known better, Nat,” said my uncle, with an exclamation of impatience. “I have not the most remote idea where our camp is, and Ebo will be expecting us back.”
“Oh! never mind, uncle,” I said; “let’s have a try. I dare say we can find the way back.”
“My dear boy, it would be sheer folly,” he replied. “How is it possible? We are tired out now, and it would be only exhausting ourselves for nothing, and getting a touch of fever, to go striving on through the night.”
“What are we to do then, uncle?”
“Do, my boy? Do as Adam did, make ourselves as comfortable as we can beneath a tree. We can do better, for we can cut some wood and leaves to make ourselves a shelter.”
“What, build a hut, uncle?” I said in dismay; for I was now beginning to find out how tired I really was.