ks changed
to angry frowns. They snatched their hands away and backed off from the
heap, Mak shaking his head fiercely.

"Well, that's cool," said Mark. "Here, come back;" and he pointed to
the heap and stamped his foot. "We are not going to do the dirty work
and let you keep your hands clean, my fine fellows. Come--dig out--
gun!"

Mak shook his head angrily and imitated Mark's action of stamping his
foot and pointing to the heap.

"Dig--out--gun," he said, imitated the while by the pigmy, who repeated
the words "Dig--dig" to Dean.

"No--no--you two!" cried Mark.

"No--no--you two!" cried Mak; and he pointed again at the heap, running
close up to it and pointing to where some parched up fern leaves had
been scattered about.

He only stayed there a moment, and then darted away, to stand with his
little companion, shaking his head and chattering away as he
energetically kept on signing to the boys to act, and shouting.

"Gun! Gun!"

"All right, gentlemen; never mind," said Buck good-humouredly. "These
niggers are mighty particular about doing just what work they like and
no more. Me and my mate will soon fish the gun out if it's there. They
seem to think that as they have found the place where it's buried their
job's done."

"No," said Dunn dismally.

"What do you know about it?" growled Buck.

"Been here five years," said the man sadly, quite in a tone which seemed
to suggest that he wished he had never seen the place. "Won't go
because they know people have been buried there. It's where you dug out
the bones."

"Ah!" said the doctor. "Yes, that must be it. These people fear the
dead more than they do the living."

"Oh, that's it!" cried Mark. "Don't you remember how they wouldn't go
near after we had found the bones?"

"No, no, Buck--Dunn; we'll do it, and show them how cowardly they are."

The two men drew back, and while the blacks shifted a little further
away and close together watched, with their faces drawn with horror, the
boys bent down and tore away the dead fronds of the fern.

"Here, it's all right," cried Dean. "Hooray, Mark! Here's your gun.
Why, they've only buried the stock and half the barrels."

For there, lightly covered with stones and sand, were the barrels of the
missing gun, fully six inches quite exposed.

"Here, let me come," cried Mark.

"No; first find," cried Dean, seizing the rifle by the barrels and
giving it a jerk which drew it right out, and then