in turn, to rub and
to thump, to slap and knead the limbs and muscles, then, in their
intense curiosity, even the children forgot their timidity and
crowded round. A pickaninny--the queerest little mite--even ventured
to poke a tiny finger into the ribs of one of the three. After that
there was a great pow-wow. Mr. Hume, with a man in the palm of each
hand, a boy on each shoulder, and a couple hanging from each brawny
arm, sent the spectators into shrieks of amusement, and they there
and then christened him "The Gorilla," in token of esteem--a piece
of flattery which was to have a startling sequel. As night fell the
little people lamented the disappearance of the sun with a long,
melancholy, dirge-like wail; but when darkness was upon them they
built up the fire and prepared their evening meal from the body of a
red pig they had killed. When the three travellers wrapped
themselves up in their blankets, their hosts were still busily
engaged in eating and talking, and long into the night, whenever
they glanced up through half-closed lids, there were the little
forms still about the fires. But in the morning, behold, they were
alone with the three guides! The huts remained, and the town house,
with its posts, at least six feet high; but the little doors were
open, and the huts were empty.

"They've gone," said Venning, much disappointed. "And they have
stolen nothing," said Mr. Hume, after a careful inspection of the
kit.

The guides pointed to the trees, and once more they were traveling
the upper road through the moist leaves, glistening under the sun
from the myriad drops of condensed mist. It was more than they could
do to keep pace with the agile leaders, and time and again the
little men had to wait for the big-limbed, awkward-footed strangers
to come up. As on the previous day, they stuck to the work,
grudging even a few minutes' rest in the heat of the burning noon,
and they only relaxed their efforts to introduce a peculiar sporting
event, which nearly put an end to the party. The quick eye of the
light-coloured guide saw some object in the tree-tops, and miming
out lightly to the end of the branch, he gave a peculiar bark. In
response there came the familiar barking roar of a gorilla, followed
by the appearance of the black face at a little distance.
Immediately the three little men grossly insulted the great monarch
of the woods, whose undisputed sway no denizen of the forest cared
to dispute, who had been