Even as Samba spoke there came through the trees a sound as of distant firing. Samba quickened his steps; for an hour or more his master and he plunged through the forest, the boy halting every now and then to listen intently. At length whispering "Nkakayoko!"[[1]] he laid his hand on Jack's sleeve and gave a low call like the rough scratching sound of a forest beetle. It was answered from the right hand. Striking off sharply in that direction he led the way through a thin copse, and in a few moments the two stood at the brink of the river beside the canoe. Samba looked keenly around, whispered "Mpiko!"[[2]] and pointed to a low bushy tree close at hand. For a second or two Jack could see nothing but green: but then through the dense foliage he caught the glint of a rifle barrel, and behind it—yes, a black face. The man came out with a low chuckle of amusement. It was Makoko. "Bolotsi o!" he said. His forest craft had been too much for Lokolobolo.
Suddenly Samba held up his hand in warning. They listened; it must have been the flight of a forest bird.
"What was the firing?" asked Samba in a low voice.
"The killing of five men," replied Makoko.
Jack caught the last words, "Bant'atanu!" and started.
"Where are they?" he asked.
"Gone to feed the crocodiles. Three first, then two."
Again Samba raised his hand. All listened intently. Jack heard nothing; but Samba whispered, "They come!" and plucked him by the sleeve. All three hid among the trees. Two men came out from the other side—they were Lianza and Lingombela.
"They are coming—six men," said Lianza in answer to Samba's question. "Quickly! they heard the shots."
"We must shoot again from behind the trees," said Samba.