Pullingo, as far as we could ascertain, had no objection to accompanying us; and besides our guns, we each had a brace of pistols, an axe, and a long knife.
At early dawn, after a hearty breakfast, all the party having got up to wish us good-bye, we set out. The clearness of the atmosphere deceived us, and it took us some time before we entered the forest. The rays of the sun, as they gleamed through the trees, showed us the direction we were to take. Mudge went first, and I followed, for there was often not room between the numberless creepers which hung down from the boughs to make our way two abreast.
Pullingo had, I observed, for some days past been giving signs that he was becoming tired of the routine of our life, so different from that which natives are accustomed to lead. He now, instead of going ahead, lagged behind, merely pointing in the direction we were to take, and which we knew perfectly well without his assistance. Directly we entered the forest I saw him making all sorts of extraordinary gestures, and after going on a little way I observed that he had taken off his shirt. A minute afterwards, what was my surprise on turning round to see him holding his trousers in his hand; then, flourishing them for an instant in the air, he pitched them on to the bough of a tree, where they hung fluttering in the breeze, while he bounded forward, as if delighted at finding himself free of the garments which had so long proved irksome to him. I hailed Mudge, and asked him whether he ought not to be told to go back and get his clothes.
“Let him alone,” was the answer; “he is only following the bent of his nature; he is perfectly welcome to run naked if he likes, though I suspect that when we come to cross the tops of the hills he will be sorry that he got rid of them.”
So strange, however, were the black’s antics, that I began to fear he had lost his senses. He shouted and laughed, and tumbled head over heels, and skipped, and jumped about in the most extraordinary manner, as if rejoicing in his regained freedom.
“I suppose he fancies that his clothes will hang there till he comes back, when he intends to appear decently, I hope, at the camp,” I remarked.
“I don’t think he troubles himself about the future,” answered Mudge; “he just now feels as much satisfaction at being without his clothes, as you or I would in getting a warm bath and putting on a clean shirt and trousers.”
We were some time in making our way through the forest, Pullingo not taking any special trouble to pick out the best path. We had expected almost immediately to commence our ascent of the mountain, but on emerging from the forest we saw before us a valley, with a broad stream flowing through it. By the rapidity of the current we judged that it made a direct course to the sea; and it was evidently far too deep to allow us to hope that we could wade across it.
We pointed it out to Pullingo, who had now become a little more quiet, and asked him how he proposed to
