Near to the top of the rise Dave halted, studied a slight glare, and then started on again with caution.
"A fire," he said. "Yes, I can smell smoke. Natives around a camp-fire? I guess that much. I must hurry back to the others and make back tracks double-quick."
Dave hastened along fast and recklessly. The sure proximity of enemies had startled him.
"What's this?" he gasped suddenly, lost his footing, took a header, and plunged into complete darkness.
CHAPTER XXVI
A THRILLING ADVENTURE
Dave had fallen down a hole covered with a thin network of branches and leaves. He knew it to be a trap, a pitfall, as he began his descent. There was a strong rancid smell about the spot, and the earth and the branches were thickly covered with grease.
Dave went shooting, feet first, down a smooth slant. He landed with a shock. Then he rebounded, lost his balance, and fell flat.
With a thrill he struck something moving, something that grunted, and tore away from him. It seemed covered with sharp, ugly bristles that had penetrated his hands like thorns.
Dave sprang to his feet in alarm. Fierce echoing grunts filled the place, a pit of considerable size. He quickly drew out a match and flared it.