ent off to sleep, from which they awoke,
heavy and unrefreshed, at the cry to "fall in."

The trail had been recovered fifty yards further on, the intervening
ground having been covered apparently by the cannibals without
leaving a sign. Venning blundered on a little way before he
discovered that he had left his bundle behind.

"I'll wait for you," said Compton, sitting down on a tree-stump,
while Mr. Hume, who had left his position in the rear to consult
with Muata, had his back turned.

Venning recovered his bundle, and turned to retrace his steps, but
for the time his heavy eyes were no longer faithful guides, and,
instead of taking the right direction, he entered a likely looking
opening through the trees to the left and hurried on. When he had
covered a distance that should have brought him to Compton, he
stopped.

"Halloa! halloa!" he cried.

There was no answer.

"Compton! I say, no larks. Where are you?"

A little in advance he heard the rustle of leaves, and went on
quickly. When he reached the place where the sound came from there
was nothing there, and he gathered his wits together. With a little
laugh at his carelessness, he began to retrace his steps, but there
was a problem to be dealt with at every step, for he could see
nothing familiar. In that multitude of trees, planted so close
together, each tree seemed alike. He put his hand to his mouth and
uttered a long "coo-ee." The call seemed to be shut in, sounding in
his ears very weak and quavering.

"Coo-ee!"--and again "coo-ee!" Ah, that was an answer; and with a
glad shout he set off in the direction whence came an answer to his
call, forced his way through the undergrowth, tripped and fell over
a dead branch with a thud that made his head throb so that he was
glad to sit back with closed eyes.

When he opened them again he heard a rustling of the leaves, and
moved his lips to call out. "Compton!"

There was unmistakably the sound of some one jumping aside as if
startled.

"Over here!" said Venning; and then he closed his eyes again with a
feeling of languor. Compton, in the meanwhile growing impatient,
walked a few steps in the direction his chum had taken. The rest of
the party had moved on, thinking, no doubt, he was following, and he
knew that neither he nor Venning could pick up the spoor if they
lost touch. He peered through the scrub for some time without seeing
any one, and then he heard a low cry--a strangled sort of cry, as if