and took our way
through the black woods. I was at home here, and Nick was not to be
frightened. At intervals the mournful bay of a bloodhound came to us
from a distance.

"Suppose we should meet the Congo chief," said Nick, suddenly.

The idea had occurred to me.

"She needn't have been so frightened," said he, in scornful remembrance
of his mother's actions.

We pressed on. Nick knew the path as only a boy can. Half an hour
passed. It grew brighter. The rain ceased, and a new moon shot out
between the leaves. I seized his arm.

"What's that?" I whispered.

"A deer."

But I, cradled in woodcraft, had heard plainly a man creeping through
the underbrush beside us. Fear of the Congo chief and pity for the
wretch tore at my heart. Suddenly there loomed in front of us, on the
path, a great, naked man. We stood with useless limbs, staring at him.

Then, from the trees over our heads, came a chittering and a chattering
such as I had never heard. The big man before us dropped to the
earth, his head bowed, muttering. As for me, my fright increased. The
chattering stopped, and Nick stepped forward and laid his hand on the
negro's bare shoulder.

"We needn't be afraid of him now, Davy," he said. "I learned that trick
from a Portuguese overseer we had last year."

"You did it!" I exclaimed, my astonishment overcoming my fear.

"It's the way the monkeys chatter in the Canaries," he said. "Manuel had
a tame one, and I heard it talk. Once before I tried it on the chief,
and he fell down. He thinks I'm a god."

It must have been a weird scene to see the great negro following two
boys in the moonlight. Indeed, he came after us like a dog. At length we
were in sight of the lights of Fanning Hall. The militia was there. We
were challenged by the guard, and caused sufficient amazement when we
appeared in the hall before the master, who was a bachelor of fifty.

"'Sblood, Nick Temple!" he cried, "what are you doing here with that big
Congo for a dog? The sight of him frightens me."

The negro, indeed, was a sight to frighten one. The black mud of the
swamps was caked on him, and his flesh was torn by brambles.

"He ran away," said Nick; "and I am taking him home."

"You--you are taking him home!" sputtered Mr. Fanning.

"Do you want to see him act?" said Nick. And without waiting for a reply
he filled the hall with a dozen monkeys. Mr. Fanning leaped back into
a doorway, but the chief prostrated himself on the floor. "