e bank. Yet a crocodile
would be far more merciful than those black devils. Again a swirl and
something passed close to him at high speed. Probably an otter scared by
the firing; at any rate it was not a crocodile. The lights and figures on
the bank disappeared.

Shots rang out again, and were followed by a wild outburst of yelling.
Birnier began to wade for the bank, continually splashing water at the
mosquitoes which were so thick that they reminded him of the bayou
Lafourche in far-off Louisiana. Crouching, he waited on the edge of the
bank to listen. The corporal might have had enough sense to post men in
the grass. Yet he might be too fuddled to think of that, and no native
would willingly stay there in the dark, unless under white discipline.
Voices still muttered, but they sounded as if from the camp. Had they
given him up for the night, relying on the chance that if he had not been
taken by a crocodile they could trail him in the morning? Probably.

Birnier squatted in the water, ready to plunge back, until he was sure
they were in camp. Then as cautiously he crawled up the bank. Through the
scrub with his uninjured eye he could make out the figures around the
yellow of the fire which had gone down considerably. Now what would they
do? He could hear the mumble of the corporal's voice. Would they be
sufficiently sobered to be ready for the chase in the morning? Birnier did
not think so with that case of brandy there; the corporal would not, at
all events. There was a scream of pain and the chatter of women's voices.

Was the corporal punishing the sentry for having let the prisoners escape,
or were they beginning to fight among themselves? The latter was
improbable, as non-commissioned officers are usually chosen from petty
chiefs and the men under them, as far as possible, from their own village.
Had they captured Mungongo or one of the others? Birnier listened again.
Another scream was stoppered to a groan.

"Devils!" muttered Birnier. Lying flat to watch the grass and shrub tops
against the stars, he gave the frog croaks arranged, at intervals of ten
seconds. About five minutes later he saw some grass tops quiver
unnaturally. He croaked again. Came a whisper:

"Is it thee, Infunyana?" (a name given in reference to Birnier's gold
fillings).

"Aye." A dark form glided towards him. "Where are the other men?"

"I know not. I told them as thou hadst told me to do. When thou didst give
the sign, I fled and pl