Harry determined to make the islands his home for many months to come.
Meanwhile scouts were employed to scour the country in many different directions, and endeavour if possible to find out the whereabouts or news at least of the white men.
For a very long time they were unsuccessful. At last, however, much to Harry’s joy, one man returned, bringing with him a vague rumour that he had heard of five men belonging to a foreign country, who lived at the court of a chief not very far from the lakes, but in the fastnesses of a mountain-studded wilderness. So fierce and terrible was this chief reported to be that no one would dare to enter his territory. If any one did—so it was said—he would assuredly be crucified, or hoisted by the heels into a sapling tree, there to hang in the sun until the great grey kites ate the flesh from off his bones.
News of an equally important nature was soon after brought by another and probably braver scout. He had entered the chief’s wild country, he had even seen and conversed with one of the white men, and found out that there were six more in captivity, and that until now they had given up all hopes of ever being able to regain their freedom.
King Googagoo was as much delighted with the news as was Harry.
And the king, moreover, now showed all the fierce impetuosity of his nature.
He smote the ground with the staff of his spear.
“I will go,” he cried, “with all the strength of my amazons and fight this king, and deliver your friends from bondage.”
But Harry saw that whatever was to be done must be done with care and caution. For failure would mean the death—probably by torture—of the unfortunate white captives.