a spell at the levers, heedless of the noise
made, and under their powerful arms the boat was soon far out in the
waste of waters--safe, at any rate, for that night.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BULLS AND THE WILD DOGS

After an hour or so Muata was sent forward as look-out, and with his
jackal by his side, apparently aiding him in his task, he showed
such eyes for the night that they kept on safely till the morning,
when the sail was hoisted, and by breakfast-time they judged they
had covered about forty miles--quite enough for safety. They ran the
Okapi in among the islands which still stretched away as far as they
could see, and made fast, to eat and to sleep. The noon heat woke
them. They sat up under the awning and talked of the great drive, of
Muata's escape, and of his wonderful luck in finding them--though he
made out that there was nothing strange about it, since from the
woods he had seen the preparations for the hunt, and had, too, made
out the Okapi in the dusk. For the rest, his jackal had scented out
the white man's lair, and all he, the chief, had to do was to upset
the canoe of the Arab.

"That was no great work for Muata--the otter, the water-wolf," he
said.

"And how did the chief escape?"

"Before the shouting arose that Muata was gone, he found a calabash
of fat for the cooking, by the door of a hut. Some fat he rubbed on
the soles of his feet to kill the scent. Then he sent the jackal
into the woods and crawled into a hut, being stiff from the binding.
In the hut he remained, rubbing the fat into the joints, till the
people came back to the feast."

"The feast was made by us, so that while the people ate we could
loosen your bonds."

"Wow! Never yet have I known any to give such thought to a
stranger."

"It is our way to stand by those who stand by us."

"It is a great word that;" and the chief turned the thought over in
his mind. "Ow aye! They came again to the feast, and Muata went out
into the woods in peace."

"And was that all?"

"There was a man gathering fruit in the morning as I passed through
a garden, and his knife I took."

"And what did the man do?"

"He took a message to my father, the chief," said Muata,
enigmatically. "The chief's son has been like a hunted dog. His
stomach hungers for red meat. His spirit thirsts for the hunt. Wow!
O hunter, set your shining boat for the shore, and let us follow the
trail. There be buffalo in the lands beyond the hills which line the