The officer was curious, as all such men are, whether heathens or not, to know all about Benee, and put to him a score of questions at least, part of which Benee replied to with a delicate and forgivable fib.
So the policeman was but little wiser at the end of the conversation than he was at the beginning.
About half an hour before sunset, Benee was once more far up on the moorlands, and making straight for the place where he had hidden his guns and ammunition.
But he stopped short and stared with astonishment when, before rounding the corner of the wood, a pistol shot rang out in the quiet air, followed by the most terrible shrieking and howling he had ever listened to.
He hurried on quickly enough now, and as he did so, a whole herd of huge monkeys, apparently scared out of their senses, rushed madly past him.
Close to the jungle he found one of his revolvers. One chamber had been emptied, and not far off lay a baboon in the agonies of death. Benee, who, savage though he was, evidently felt for the creature, mercifully expended another shot on it, and placed it beyond the reach of woe.
He was glad to find his rifle and other revolver intact, but the cartridges from his belt were scattered about in all directions, and strenuous efforts had evidently been made to tear open his leathern ammunition-box.
It took some time to make everything straight again.
Now down went the sun, and very soon, after a short twilight, out came the stars once more.
Benee now resumed his journey as straight as he could across the plateau.