ten to the counsel of strangers without taking
thought for his people?"

"We saved the chief's life."

"The chiefs life is his own"--Muata snapped his fingers--"but the
secret of the hiding-place is the life of the people. Go slowly, my
father. Muata would work for you and with you; his shield is your
shield; his eye is your eye; but the secret of the hiding-place is
not his to give away."

"Then you must land here on the bank among your enemies."

The chief glanced at the far-off wooded banks, with lines of smoke
rising from cooking-fires.

"I have no weapons," he said.

"We cannot help that," said Mr. Hume, with indifference. "Either
you agree to take us to the Place of Rest, or you land."

Muata rose up, looked under the flat of his hand all around, then
let the cotton sheet they had given him slip to the deck. The jackal
started up, with his ears pricked and his eyes fixed on his master's
face. The chief caught hold of a wire rope and jumped on to the
rail, where he steadied himself.

"What will you do?" asked Mr. Hume.

Muata turned round and pointed to the otter on his chest.

"You don't mean to say," said Venning, indignantly, "that you are
going to let him swim ashore? Why, the bank is miles away, and the
crocodiles are in between."

Muata's glance fell on the jackal, and he spoke to it. The animal
whined, then crouched.

"A favour, my father," he said. "If the beast followed me, he would
be food for the crocodiles. Place him on land when you reach the
bank, for the sake of good hunting."

"I will do so."

The chief took another long glance around, then drew himself up for
the dive.

"Stop," said Mr. Hume.

Muata looked round.

"Your shield is our shield. So be it. We will not ask you to lead us
to your hiding-place. Is that so, Compton?"

"When he leads us," said Compton, nodding his head, "it will be at
his own will."

"At any rate," muttered Venning, "he has proved himself to be a man;
but I wonder if he would have reached the shore?"

As he spoke the jackal howled, and the chief, who was still standing
on the rail, slipped and fell with a splash. They ran to the side,
and the jackal, with another howl, sprang to the rail and thence
into the river, where a second or two later it was in the troubled
wake of the steamer, beating frantically with its fore paws.

"Man overboard!" shouted Mr. Hume. "Stand by with a rope."

But the Belgian skipper on the little bridge held to his cou