e wind was fitful,
and the direct progress was slow, so that when the glow went out of
the sky they were still within hearing of the shouting. Indeed, it
seemed that the shouting gained on them, as if the men in Hassan's
boat were keeping their place in the renewed pursuit, and directing
other crews as to the line they should take.

Then the sail napped idly against the mast as the wind died down,
and as they unstepped the mast before depending on the screw, a fire
sprang out right ahead, sending up a tall column of flame that flung
its reflection far across the waters.

"We must make out into the islands again," said Mr. Hume; but, as
the boat pointed on the new course, an answering flame sprang up,
and then another and another at brief intervals, until from the fire
on the bank there was a semicircle of flame from island to island
barring their advance.

"There must be an army out," muttered Venning.

"It is one canoe, but most likely Hassan's, firing the dried reeds
as they pass from island to island."

"Then the flames will die out soon."

"Yes, they will die down; but in the mean time other canoes will
come up, and if there are men on the shore waiting, they will see us
outlined against the reflection."

Even as he finished there came a shrill cry from the shore, followed
by the wild beat of the war-drum, and next by the sound of paddling.

"Shall we make a bolt for it?" asked Compton.

"Not yet," said the hunter; and he brought the Okapi stem on for the
deep shadows under the bank.

The oars moved softly, covered by the noise of the paddling, and the
Okapi slipped out of the reflection into the darkness, while the
canoes dashed straight on, passing about one hundred yards behind
her stem.

"Easy now," whispered Mr. Hume, "and keep quite still."

The oars were drawn in as the Okapi, caught in a current, was borne
right into the bank at a spot where the trees came down to the
brink. Mr. Hume caught a branch, and the stern swung round. Before
them, about a quarter of a mile off perhaps, was the great fire they
had first seen, still fed by natives, whose dark figures stood out
and disappeared as they moved about. Out on the river they could
hear the noise of paddles, and of men calling to each other.

Near them on the bank something moved, and above the swishing of the
current they heard the low whine of an animal.

Mr. Hume pricked his ears at the sound, and crept into the well,
where the boys sa