he porter with them, and as much of the provisions as they could steal
without disturbing the white men.

"I thought so," said Berselius.

Adams raged and stormed, but Berselius was perfectly calm.

"The thing I fear most," said he, "is that they have led us out of our
road. Did you notice whether we were in the track for the last mile or so
of our journey yesterday?"

"No," replied Adams, "I just followed on. Good God! if it is so we are
lost."

Now, the rubber road was just a track so faint, that without keeping his
eyes on the ground where years of travel had left just a slight indication
of the way, a European would infallibly lose it. Savages, who have eyes in
their feet, hold it all right, and go along with their burdens even in the
dark.

Adams searched, but he could find no track.

"We must leave all these things behind us," said Berselius, pointing to
the tent and litter. "I am strong enough to walk; we must strike through
the forest and leave the rest to chance."

"Which way?" asked Adams.

"It does not matter. These men have purposely lost us, and we do not know
in the least the direction of the river."

Adams's eyes fell on a bundle wrapped in cloth. It was the relic.

He knelt down beside it, and carefully removed the cloth without
disturbing the position of the skull.

He noted the direction in which the eye-holes pointed.

"We will go in that direction," said he. "We have lost ourselves, but God
has not lost us."

"Let it be so," replied Berselius.

Adams collected what provisions he could carry, tied the skull to his belt
with a piece of rope taken from the tent, and led the way amidst the
trees.

Two days later, at noon, still lost, unutterably weary, they saw through
the trees before them a sight to slay all hope.

It was the tent and the litter just as they had left them.

Two days' heart-breaking labour had brought them to this by all sorts of
paths.

They had not wandered in a circle. They had travelled in segments of
circles, and against all mathematical probability, had struck the camp.

But the camp was not tenantless. Someone was there. A huge man-like form,
a monstrous gorilla, the evil spirit that haunted the forest, bent and
gray and old-looking, was picking the things about, sniffing at them,
turning them over.

When they saw him first, he was holding the tent-cloth between both his
hands just as a draper holds a piece of cloth, then he ripped it up with a
rending