Mutaba understood nothing of this, but as though in answer to Dan's sarcasm, he reached out with his thin black fingers and dislodged a bit of fluff from a bramble.
"It is from the Muta-Kunga warrior's neck feathers," he said.
"Neck feathers?"
"Yes, Bwana Dick, when the Muta-Kunga is at war or on the hunting trail, he wears a neck piece of feathers. See, this is a bit that was torn off in flight."
Dick translated for Dan's benefit, and the latter whistled in astonishment.
"Guess I pulled another boner," he said. "Sherlock Holmes was on to his job after all."
"That ends our surprise attack!" Dick exclaimed. "The Muta-Kunga warriors will know we are on our way. That fellow may be at the camp already, and warning the tribe."
"Tough luck!" said Dan.
"The worst is that they may rush the prisoners to some other hiding place in the jungle."
"Or they may ambush us at some spot and shoot us full of arrows without warning."