and thinking of it now as he
rubbed the limbs of these poor fellows, he could only rejoice, and
congratulate himself that he had done bare justice.

"It was man to man," he thought. "He deserved his death, and he had due
warning. It was not as if I had knocked and then struck him in the
darkness of the hut. I gave him a chance, and--well, the best man won.
Now, how are you both?"

The poor fellows were trembling with joy, and wept freely. By now they
had regained to some extent the use of their hands, and they, too,
rubbed at their feet till they were able to stand and hobble a few
paces.

"We will wait till you are quite able to walk," said Dick. "We have far
to go to-night, and it will be better to sacrifice a few minutes here
than to lose them on the road. Do not hurry. Soon you will be strong
again."

"We are fit to go now," at last said the spokesman of the two. "Where
will the white man turn his face?"

"To the Pra. Our troops are there, and if we can meet them we are safe.
Do either of you know the road?"

There was an exclamation from both at once.

"We have marched it time and again," said one. "As slaves we have
accompanied the Ashanti armies, and we can find the road even in the
dark. But we must be careful. There are thousands of men about, and if
we met them we should be killed."

"Then you will want weapons. Pick up the knives and tuck them in your
waist cloths. Now lead the way. Better still. We will cut a vine and
hold on to it. Then there will be no straggling."

A little later the three set out, the leader setting the direction along
the path without a moment's hesitation.

"It will lead us to the main war road," he explained, "and after that
all will be easy. There is but one way to the Pra, for the forest is
too thick for many paths to be cut. Follow, white chief, and I will
take you to the river."

All that night the trio kept on through the forest, their way made easy
by the path cut and kept free of undergrowth with constant labour. Now
and again they would call a halt, for the two captives whom Dick had
rescued were still very feeble, and their feet and ankles were greatly
swollen. But it is wonderful what an amount of ill-treatment a native
can put up with at times, and how marvellously they recover from the
most serious of wounds. True, they have as a rule little stamina, and
sickness cuts them down by the hundred. But perhaps because of the life
they lead