“It’s almost as useful to me as my revolver. Take it, Dobbin, and bring it to bear on the top of that rocky hill off to the north.”
Dobbin looked as directed, and after a minute he exclaimed:
“Well, well!”
“What do you see?” asked Trim.
“It’s a white man, lad.”
“That’s right, and he’s looking at us, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
Dobbin handed the glass back to Trim.
“Now, then,” said Trim, “just think a minute. We are hundreds of miles from the nearest white settlement. This part of Africa is so little known that the maps don’t pretend to give the courses of rivers.
“Mighty few explorers have been here, and the long and short of it is that that white man off on the hill is one of the men we want to meet!”