“There!” said he, “lie you there until you are wanted.”
At this moment, while Jack and I were bending down fastening the latchet of our shoes, our ears were saluted with one of the most appalling yells I ever listened to. Makarooroo fell flat to the earth in his fright, and my own heart chilled with horror, while Jack sprang up and instinctively grasped the handle of his hunting-knife.
“Very good,” said Peterkin, as he stood laughing at us quietly, and we immediately perceived that it was he who uttered the cry.
“Why, what mean you?” said Jack, almost angrily. “Surely this is no time for foolish jesting.”
“I am anything but jesting, Jack. I’m only rehearsing another part of my plan.”
“But you ought to give us warning when you are about to do such startling things,” said I remonstratively.
“Nay, that would not have done at all, because then I should not have known what effect my cry is likely to produce on unexpectant ears.”
“Well, now, are you all ready?” inquired Jack. “Then let us go.”
Issuing forth armed only with our double-barrelled guns and heavy hunting-knives, we hastened towards the native village. When within a hundred yards of the edge of the wood that skirted it we stopped to pull off our shoes, for it was necessary that we should have nothing about our persons to tell who we were should any one chance to see us as we ran. We also left our rifles beside the shoes at a spot where we could find them in an instant in passing, and then slowly approached the outskirts of the village.
Presently we heard the hum of distant voices shouting, and the fear that the scene of bloodshed had already begun induced us to quicken our pace to a smart run. I never saw a man so deeply affected as was our poor guide, and when I looked at him I felt extremely anxious lest his state of mind should unfit him for acting with needful caution.