s just before the day, while Dean sighed
and followed his example, both sleeping heavily till there was a sharp
crack of a waggon whip, and they both started up, to utter almost
together, "Hallo!"

"Hallo!"

And then they stared hard at each other over something else.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

"MADE OF INDIA-RUBBER."

The "something else" the cousins looked across was one of the pigmies--
evidently a chief of higher rank than the little leader they had last
seen, though he seemed to be less in size.

He was rich in bangles, for he had four upon each arm and wrist and a
wider ribbon of gold about his forehead, in which band were stuck two
ostrich feathers, a black and a white. But, as Mark afterwards said
laughingly, that was almost all he wore, except a bow and arrows and a
spear.

"Well, who are you?" began Mark. "And what--why, Dean, it's our little
chap!"

"It can't be," said Dean, whose back was towards the increasing light.

"But it is," cried Mark. "Look here;" and he laid his hand tenderly
about the pigmy's shoulder, where the black skin was somewhat puckered
up, showing that a great scar was forming. "Why, little one, you can't
say we didn't make a good job of mending you up."

"But it can't be," said Dean, staring doubtingly at their little
visitor. "But I don't know--he is very thin."

The little fellow raised himself up slightly as he knelt upon the great
chest, and looked first at one and then at the other with a calm air of
satisfaction as if he found it pleasant to be scanned and praised, but
making very little sign besides as he turned from one to the other in
obedience to a touch, and ended by changing his bow from his right to
his left hand, where it lay in company with his spear, and then placing
three fingers upon Mark's wrist.

"Oh, come, I say," cried the latter, "I am all right; I don't want my
pulse felt. How's yours?" and the boy played the part of a doctor for a
few moments, but blunderingly felt for the pulse in the wrong wrist.
"Well, you seem uncommonly fit, little chap. Are you growing quite
strong again? Tell us how you got here."

The visitor could not respond to the question, nor comprehend it in the
least, but he looked gravely at Mark again and once more laid three
fingers upon his arm.--"Oh, I wish he would talk," cried Mark.

"You don't even grunt," said Dean.

"Pigs do grunt in our country," said Mark. "But I say, Pig--Pigmy, what
a little dandy you have