'My word, shust in time!' said Haan. 'If I had not come! Dose niggers--you saw dem--wild men, noding can tame dem, cannibals, ferocious--if dey had seen us, dere would soon be noding of us but our bones. Never, never leave me again!'
'It was quite accidental, Mr. Haan,' said Trentham. 'The bush was so thick----'
'Yes, yes,' said the man impatiently, 'but we gain no time going separate. I lead, you follow--remember dat!'
Trentham was inclined to resent a certain peremptoriness in the Dutchman's tone, but, catching Hoole's eye, he held his peace.
'He 's a bit unstrung,' whispered Hoole, as they returned to the spot where Haan had left the seamen, 'and I don't wonder. He doesn't want to fall into their clutches a second time.'
Haan quickly recovered his equanimity, and for nearly two hours they plodded on through the forest, keeping, apparently, the coast behind them. Then suddenly, through a break in the trees, the expected landmark loomed up on their left hand.
'Dat is Mushroom Hill,' said Haan. 'We now go quicker. We go round de hill on de north side, and go quicker still--and safer. De niggers on de oder side are not so fierce; dey do not eat men. Why? Dey are nearer Friedrich Wilhelmshafen, and dey have felt de weight of de German hand.'
'Poor devils!' said Trentham involuntarily, and surprised a strange look that gleamed for an instant in the Dutchman's eyes.
'Say, how far away is that hill of yours, Mr. Haan?' asked Hoole.
'Forty miles. We take dree days.'