s head.

"No seen Mr. Dav'nant," he said. "Him fight well though! Him not hurt!"

Trent stood up with a sickening fear at his heart. He knew very well
that if the boy was about and unhurt he would have been at his side. Up
and down the camp he strode in vain. At last one of the Kru boys thought
he remembered seeing a great savage bounding away with some one on his
back. He had thought that it was one of their wounded--it might have
been the boy. Trent, with a sickening sense of horror, realised the
truth. The boy had been taken prisoner.

Even then he preserved his self-control to a marvellous degree. First of
all he gave directions for the day's work--then he called for volunteers
to accompany him to the village. There was no great enthusiasm. To fight
in trenches against a foe who had no cover nor any firearms was rather
a different thing from bearding them in their own lair. Nevertheless,
about twenty men came forward, including a guide, and Trent was
satisfied.

They started directly after breakfast and for five hours fought their
way through dense undergrowth and shrubs with never a sign of a path,
though here and there were footsteps and broken boughs. By noon some of
the party were exhausted and lagged behind, an hour later a long line of
exhausted stragglers were following Trent and the native guide. Yet to
all their petitions for a rest Trent was adamant. Every minute's delay
might lessen the chance of saving the boy, even now they might have
begun their horrible tortures. The thought inspired him with fresh
vigour. He plunged on with long, reckless strides which soon placed a
widening gap between him and the rest of the party.

By degrees he began to recollect his whereabouts. The way grew less
difficult--occasionally there were signs of a path. Every moment the
soft, damp heat grew more intense and clammy. Every time he touched
his forehead he found it dripping. But of these things he recked very
little, for every step now brought him nearer to the end of his journey.
Faintly, through the midday silence he could hear the clanging of copper
instruments and the weird mourning cry of the defeated natives. A few
more steps and he was almost within sight of them. He slackened his
pace and approached more stealthily until only a little screen of bushes
separated him from the village and, peering through them, he saw a sight
which made his blood run cold within him.

They had the boy! He was there, in that fan