“Yes,” returned Mr. Holton emphatically. “A deserted village nearly always contains at least one mamba. For some reason they like to pick on such a place. But the main thing now,” he added, “is that you’re still alive.”
With one last glance at the dead reptile the explorers turned toward the safari. As they passed through the village they kept a close watch for any more of the dreaded snakes, but saw none near. They did see another quite a distance away, although it did not apparently catch sight of them.
“I’ve been wondering just where the villagers are and why they left their huts,” remarked Mr. Lewis, when they had rejoined the others of the expedition.
“Maybe those mambas drove them out,” suggested Bob, but Noko shook his head.
“No rain now, and dey go to place where is water,” was the opinion voiced by the head native.
“By Jupiter! Perhaps you’re right, Noko,” exclaimed Joe’s father. “Well, then, if that is true, there is no use waiting for them to return. Let’s go.”
Under the expert leadership of the veteran Noko, the expedition was making good time toward the little-known Forest of Mystery. If their luck should hold, they would reach it in but a few days.
“According to Mr. Seabury, back in Mombasa, we should come to a very wide, shallow stream. A little beyond this is the Forest of Mystery,” said Mr. Holton, as that night they were camped at the foot of a little knoll. “We should be nearing that stream now.”
Mention of this out-of-the-way place revived the name of Thomas Seabury, the missing brother of the man in Mombasa.
“Wonder if we’ll find him,” mused Joe, gazing off into the dark depths of the jungle.