But his chums could not furnish a reason.
That night, well after dark, great activity was to be observed in the village; mostly it centered about the chief’s large hut, a sort of place of assembly for the people. Heavy skins were hung around part of it and, from where their hut was situated, the chums could not see what was going on; but people were running about with torches, and some were carrying bundles of torch material into the enclosure.
Finally an Indian, carrying a torch, appeared and beckoned for the boys to follow.
“Now we’re in for something,” Nicky observed. “I’m glad of it. I get tired of waiting. Action for mine!”
They approached the large hut.
Suddenly Tom stopped as though shot, and gripped Nicky’s arm with a pressure that made the other wince.
Cliff, also, stopped as though an electric shock made him jump.
High and clear, from the hut, came a shrill voice, crying, in English:
“Hurry up, then! I’ll be so glad to hear somebody talk English I won’t know what to do!”