But in probably a couple of hours' time he sat cautiously up, and, gently lifting a branch, looked forth.
For voices had fallen on his ear, and next minute there went filing past on his trail no fewer than fifteen well-armed warriors.
They stopped dancing and shouting at the tree where Benee had sat down to feed, then, brandishing their broad knives, dashed forward to the stream.
They had evidently gone up the river for miles, but finding no trail on the other bank returned to search the down-stream.
In his hiding-place Benee could hear their wild shouts of vengeance-deferred, and though he feared not death, right well he knew that neither his rifle nor revolvers could long protect him against such desperate odds as this.
There was now peace once more, and the shades of evening--the short tropical gloaming--were falling when he heard the savages returning.
He knew their language well.
It was soon evident that they did not mean to go any farther that night, for they were quite tired out.
They were not unprovided with food and drink such as it was, and evidently meant to make themselves happy.
A fire was soon lit in the glade, and by its glare poor Benee, lying low there and hardly daring to move a limb, could see the sort of savages he would have to deal with if they found him.