or more. Massa Peterkin be de most
horriboble ghost dey ever did saw, an' no mistake. But, massas, we mus'
go 'way quick an' git to our camp, for de king sure to go dere an' see
if you no hab someting to do wid it all. Him's a bery clebber king, am
Jambai--bery clebber; him's no be bughummed bery easy."

"Humbugged, you mean," said Jack, laughing. "You're right, Mak; we must
set off at once. But what _are_ we to do with poor Okandaga, now that
we have got her?"

This was indeed a puzzling question. It was impossible to take her to
our camp and account to the negroes for her appearance in a satisfactory
manner; besides, if Jambai took it into his head to pursue us, in order
to ascertain whether we had had anything to do with the rescue, our case
would be hopeless. It was equally impossible to leave her where she
was, and to let her try to make her escape through the woods alone was
not to be thought of. While we pondered this dilemma an idea occurred
to me.

"It seems to me," said I, "that men are seldom, perhaps never, thrown
into a danger or difficulty in this world without some way of escape
being opened up, which, if they will but grasp at it promptly, will
conduct them at last out of their perplexities. Now, it has just
occurred to me that, since everything else seems to be impossible, we
might send Okandaga into the woods, with Makarooroo to guide and defend
her and to hunt for her. Let them travel in a line parallel with the
river route which we intend to follow. Each night Mak will make a
secure shelter for her, and then return to our camp as if he had come in
from hunting. Each morning he will set off again into the woods as if
to hunt, rejoin Okandaga; and thus we will journey together, as it were,
and when we reach the next tribe of natives we will leave the girl in
their charge until we return from the gorilla country. What do you
think of that plan?"

"Not a bad one," replied Jack; "but if Mak is away all day, what are we
to do for an interpreter?"

"Make him describe to us and to the men the day's route before leaving
us," suggested Peterkin; "and as for the talking, we can manage that
well enough for all needful purposes by a mixture of the few phrases we
know with signs."

In the excitement of this whole affair we had totally forgotten our two
prisoners, who lay not far from us on the ground, gagged and pinioned.
We were now reminded of their presence rather abruptly. We must have
s