r in the plain and were advancing by
a buffalo-trail through a low jungle-growth not far from a small river.

One of the hunters appeared in a highly excited state and John motioned
to the boys to get out their guns. They now advanced more cautiously as
they saw the Bantus in front gesturing to them and in another moment
sighted two giraffes standing in an open glade ahead.

As the boys raised their guns something flashed out from the farther
side of the thicket and both animals gave a leap. Without stopping to
think what it was the boys fired. Burt hit the animal on the right and
he dropped to his knees, then bounded off and the boy brought him down
with his second barrel. Critch had hit the other giraffe in the brain
and killed him instantly.

The boys sprang forward with a shout of joy but were stopped by John's
voice. "Come back!" cried the big Liberian. "Pigmies in there."

"What!" Critch whirled incredulously. "Where?"

"Them shoot arrows first. Maybe mad 'cause we kill giraffes. Go back
quick--"

The hurried order was stopped by a frenzied yell from the Bantus. Dark
objects flitted through the trees at their side and the hunters broke in
wild fear. Before the boys could stir in their tracks they saw John reel
and fall suddenly. At the same time something struck and threw them to
the ground, and despite their struggles they were bound hand and foot
while skins thrown around their heads made them gasp for light and air.

It was all done so swiftly that Burt hardly realized what had happened
before he felt himself picked up and carried off. He could not know that
Critch was close behind him and he was in an agony of suspense. Had his
chum and big John been killed? He tried to call out but the skin around
his head stifled him. He could hear nothing save an occasional guttural
clicking word from his bearers and was forced to resign himself to his
fate.

It seemed that he was borne along for ages. His head was protected, but
mosquitoes and gnats settled on his bound hands until his arms seemed to
be dipped in living flame. Then he heard his captors splashing through
shallow water and knew that they were crossing the river into the jungle
beyond. After this they slipped through thorn-laden bushes that ripped
his clothes to shreds, and once a black wasp's sting drew a groan of
pain from the boy, for the touch was like hot iron to his hand.

He did not doubt for a moment that he was captured by pigmies. If only