round. She did not speak, but
beckoned him to come back. He obeyed at once.

"Linna says she heard voices a minute ago, over yonder," whispered Mrs.
Ripley, as her son joined them.

"So me did," added Linna, in answer to the inquiring look of the lad.

"You have sharp ears, little one; but are you sure?"

"Me am," was the confident reply.

"Where were they?"

She again pointed out the direction.

"That must be looked into: wait till I come back, and--"

"S--h!" interrupted the mother.

All caught an indistinct murmur, which proved Linna was right.

"Me tell you--eh?" she said in a proud undertone, her black eyes
sparkling with triumph.

"You are right: wait till I learn whether they are friends or enemies. I
will not be gone long."

Leaving the anxious group clustered together, Ben faced in the direction
of the sounds, which had stopped, and were so faint when heard that he
could not tell whether they belonged to friends or foes.

As nearly as he could find out, the parties were just beyond the crest
of the ridge, and, but for the warning of Linna, he would have run into
the danger before knowing it.

With the utmost care he went up the slope. He leaned forward and stepped
more slowly, avoiding, so far as he could, making any noise on the
leaves or against the bushes and limbs which he had to push aside to
allow him to advance.

At the instant of reaching the highest point he heard the voices again,
so close that he knew they were made by white people, who were in a
clump of dense undergrowth. A faint wreath of smoke filtering through
the branches overhead showed they had started a small fire, beside which
they were probably sitting or reclining on the ground.

Now that he was certain they belonged to his own race, he had less fear.
Still, they might prove unpleasant neighbors when they came to know one
of the party was a daughter of Omas. Turning toward his friends, who
were watching him, Ben made a sign for them to stay where they were
while he went forward.

He moved with the same care as before, but an unexpected accident
spoiled everything. His foot caught in a wire-like vine, and he almost
fell on his hands and knees. Aware that he had betrayed himself, he
threw aside further caution, hurried down the slope, and called out in a
guarded undertone--

"Helloa there, friends!"

"Who are you?" was the demand that instantly followed, and from the
undergrowth, beside a small fire, two men sudden