The natives greeted their comrade with cries of joy, and crowded about him, plying him with questions. In a few moments they fell silent, and listened intently as Kafulu eagerly addressed them. Meek, a little in the background, watched his gestures, wondering what he was saying, and why he continually brandished the gun. Presently Kafulu turned and pointed in the direction from which he had come, and then Meek noticed that his back was seamed with scarcely healed weals. His attention was immediately diverted, for among the trees at which Kafulu was pointing he caught sight of the faces of several white men, who appeared to be making signs of friendship. Now thoroughly alarmed, he turned to flee; but the Germans issued suddenly from the forest; one of them made a sign to Kafulu, who sprinted across the glade with some of his companions, sprang upon Meek from behind, and hauled him back.
KAFULU SPRANG UPON MEEK FROM BEHIND.
'Mr. Grinson. Ahoy, Mr. Grinson!' shouted Meek.
His last word was smothered by a big hand laid across his mouth, and his eyes widened with amazement when he looked into the face of his captor. There were six Germans, armed with rifles. Forming a guard round the natives, they hurried them into the forest, with Meek helpless in their midst.
About an hour later Hoole and Trentham returned to the spot.
'Hullo! There's no one here,' said Trentham. 'Meek understood that he was to wait here until relieved?'
'Yes. He looked a trifle uneasy, but he wouldn't desert his post. Surely----'
'They couldn't resist the temptation, you mean? I hope it's not so bad as that. Let us see if we can trace the way he 's gone. Here 's his spear on the ground.'
'And here are his footprints. By gum, Trentham, look here: a good many European boots have been treading the grass. They came from the forest, and went back again. Germans, sure!'