Mr. Seabury looked even more grave.
“Medical science cannot help me,” he said at last. “I’m afraid my hunting days are over.” For several moments he retained the same expression. Then suddenly his face lightened, as though he had resolved to forget the matter. “Just what fauna are you after this time?” he asked the naturalists. “But first, before anything more is said, I have something that I want to put before you.”
“What is it, a surprise?” smiled Mr. Lewis.
“Well—you might call it that,” was the response. “Here’s the whole thing: Over six months ago my brother Thomas went into the Congo region to study the primitive tribes there. He was to come back in three months. As yet he hasn’t returned. I fear something has happened to him.”
“That’s too bad,” said Mr. Lewis. “We’ll make it a point to search for him. Just where did he intend to go?”
“It is a very remote region,” Mr. Seabury told them. “Has been called the Forest of Mystery.”
“The Forest of Mystery!” repeated Mr. Holton. “I’ve heard of it. In the central Congo country, isn’t it?”
George Seabury nodded.
“It is said to be full of unexplainable phenomena,” he said. “Has been frequented by only a very few whites.”