e of
their march and agreed that it had been north by east.

"I've been watching the needle," said Critch. "We came north yesterday
from the camp. To-day we've been traveling a little east of north.
Golly, I'm tired! Guess we can't bank on your uncle finding us now."

"Guess not," agreed Burt hopelessly. "We only got one chance of ever
getting out of this mess, Critch. If we can do what Cap'n Mac did we may
work it."

"We got Mbopo to help," returned Critch. "I ain't looking forward to
getting branded very eager. We got to get around that part of it, Burt."

"Don't see how," answered Burt. "It don't look like Cap'n Mac hurt old
Pongo very much with his blazing oil. We ain't got a gun either. If we
knew any conjuring tricks we might make a bluff on Mbopo's people."

"I can pull a coin out of handkerchiefs," grinned Critch. "But we ain't
got a coin and if we don't keep our hankies tied on our hands we'd be
eaten alive. Try again."

"An electric battery'd be the stunt," said Burt. "Fellows in books
always have batteries handy, or eclipses, or something. Guess we ain't
lucky. What d'you s'pose Cap'n Mac would do if he was here?"

"Prob'ly tell you to shut your head and go to sleep while you can,"
grunted Critch. Burt accepted the advice.

They set out again in the morning and still traveled north by east.
Mbopo said little to them that day. Instead of stopping at a village
they camped out at noon and made a meagre meal of nuts and wild
plantains. They were getting into higher country now although it was
still jungle. The black hunters had not accompanied them and the six
white pigmies were the sole guardians of the boys. At evening there was
no sign of a village and when one of the men brought in another small
wart hog the rest scattered and collected more wild nuts and berries.

They camped that night in the center of a ring of fires. These smudges
protected them somewhat from the clouds of insects, but nevertheless
both boys suffered a great deal. Their mosquito nets were badly torn and
their camphor was all gone by this time. Although the pigmies did not
seem to mind the mosquitoes, they were very careful to avoid the hanging
nests of the trumpet ants and the black wasps while passing through the
jungle.

The next morning there was still the same desolate silence all about
them as they marched on. Mbopo had said nothing the night before and the
boys had been too dead tired to ask any questions. Toward noon the