Still, I was inclined to believe that the native would prove faithful. Neither he nor his son, however, offered to carry our packs; though Pullingo chatted as usual, and seemed in a particularly merry mood.
In the afternoon, after having stopped for dinner,—when we fed our attendants with the produce of our guns,—we were already among the spurs of the mountains, amid which the trees were of even more gigantic growth than lower down. Instead of ascending abruptly, we found ourselves in a valley with a gentle slope, penetrating far into the range.
As the sun was now setting, we agreed to camp under a tall tree by the side of a stream flowing down the valley, which would supply us with water. We had shot some birds on our way, so we at once set to work to collect bark for our hut and wood for our fire. Pullingo and his son assisted us; but we observed that they did not put up a lean-to for themselves. We were busily engaged in preparing our birds for supper, when, after we had spitted them, on looking round we found that our black companions had disappeared.
“I suppose they will come back for their share,” observed Mudge.
Even when the birds were roasted they did not return, so we ate our supper and prepared to take our rest. The moon, by this time, had risen high in the sky, and was shedding her beams on the precipitous side of the valley a little way below us. I was on the point of dropping off to sleep, Mudge having agreed to keep watch, when I was aroused by a chorus of strange, unearthly cries.
“Depend upon it, these must proceed from our black friends, who are paying their respects to the cavern of the moon,” observed Mudge. “I thought just now I caught sight of some figures moving over the ground. Probably Pullingo and his son are among them. Let us go and see what they are about.”
I willingly agreed. Strapping on our packs, which we were too wise to leave behind, we proceeded in the direction from which the sounds came, knowing that the light of the fire would enable us to find our way back to the camp without difficulty. In a short time we caught sight of a number of dark figures forming a semicircle in front of a cavern, the entrance to which was surrounded by trees and numberless creepers clinging to the rock. The men were dancing in their usual strange fashion, leaping and springing, and twisting their bodies into all sorts of curious attitudes; singing at the same time at the top of their voices. Suddenly, at a signal from their fugleman, they all dropped down on their knees and began to creep towards the cavern, rubbing their noses every now and then on the ground. Thus they continued moving about in front of the cavern, no one apparently daring to approach too near the entrance.
As we were unwilling to be discovered, which we thought would be the case should they on rising face about in our direction, we slowly retreated towards our camp. On looking back, we saw that they were still crawling about on hands and knees; and as the spectacle was rather humiliating than interesting, we did not feel inclined to watch their further proceedings.
After lying down I was very soon asleep. When Mudge called me, he told me that the shouting and singing had been going on ever since, and that neither Pullingo nor his son had returned.
“They’ll come back, however, before morning,” I observed.