After half-an-hour’s rapid traveling the mate halted, and, parting the branches in front of him, pointed to the reflection of a fire about fifty yards away.
“That’s where we’ll find cookee, or I’m a Dutchman. These cattle don’t seem to be able to do anything without havin’ a big blaze to work by, an’ we’ve only got to crawl up there in order to see him.”
“Go ahead quickly, or we may be too late.”
“I reckon they’ll take plenty of time to carve him up. It seems they’re countin’ on catchin’ the whole of us without much trouble, or else some of ’em would have been hangin’ around the entrance to the shaft waitin’ for us to come out.”
“Perhaps they didn’t know we were there. It isn’t safe to trust to chances, and we ought to end matters as soon as possible.”
Jenkins did not wait to argue further, but continued the advance cautiously, his companions remaining close behind him, until they were where it was possible to see the main body of the enemy.
The number of the blacks had at least been doubled since the boys saw them last, and that they felt perfectly secure from an attack could be told by the fact that all were gathered around an enormous fire, without having taken the precaution to post sentinels.
At the mouth of the big cave, tied hand and foot, was poor old Andy. On either side stood a burly black man, whose body was covered with grotesque ornaments, and the entire party were waiting in silence for the coming of the old mummers, or, at least, so the boys judged from the expectant manner in which all gazed toward the entrance.
“If we had a hundred rounds of ammunition, I wouldn’t be afraid to open fire on the crowd this minute, an’ it’s ten to one that they’d be cleaned out in twenty minutes, or made to take to their boats.”
“But we haven’t got that number of cartridges, and it seems to me we had better begin operations mighty soon, for it’ll be harder after the old fellows are there to urge the rest on,” Gil suggested, and Nelse expressed the same opinion by saying: