4 THE STRAND MAGAZINE.
“the sun rose higher, and I saw more points of light to the south.”
This was grave news, since to the south lay our line of retreat.
“We must wait till they have begun to fight, and then we can slip away without trouble,” I said.
“They’re not going to fight. They're coming this way——both lots, at a quick, regular pace. They've an object in view.”
I inquired what he supposed that object could be.
“Us,” he replied, baldly.
I stifled a groan and wondered what was to be done.
“What I said. We'll just go and pay Ruora a visit. It'll only be polite, you know, considering it's his country we're in. And it'll look better to go on our own legs, Anson, than to be carried there hanging from a pole trussed like a pair of fowls. I thought we were in for an ugly mess when I found those carriers gone this morning.”
We had made, on the whole, a success of our trading expedition with the various savage tribes on our route, and the full packs with which we started had been gradually exchanged for payment in kind. Since then we had been pushing on with only the few carriers necessary for our personal comfort until we reached our present position. But during the preceding night these men had deserted us. Under the circumstances no more sinister event could well have occurred.
I told Tammers I was ready to start, but implied that I feared Ruora would hardly regard our embassy of two worth much con- sideration.
“I thought of that,” he assented. “But I'm going to give him something he'll like.”
“Why, we have nothing.”
“Yes, we have, I brought a present on purpose for him. I'm going to give him a hat.”
“Whose?” I asked.
Tammers’ half - smile paid homage to my stupid little jest.
“Not yours, nor mine for that matter. Look here, Anson, I'm going to give that cannibal a theatre hat,” he said, im- pressively.
I murmured that Ruora could scarcely fail to perceive the appropri- ateness of such an offering. “Just so,” said Tammers, with confidence. “It opens out with a click. That ought to make things pleasant between us.”
I saw the force of the reasoning and picked myself up from the grass to prepare for our departure. Tammers opened his pack to make sure that the powers of the hat in the way of clicking and expanding had survived our months of wandering.
“If it only played a tune,” he said, regret- fully, as he worked the spring, “they'd want to get up a Jubilee Day for us. Still, if Ruora doesn't fall in love with that theatre hat, I'm no judge of cannibals.”
Such was, on the 9th of May, our situation. Pursued by two war-parties, we were about to fly on ahead to do the civil to their bloodthirsty master, our total effects being Tammers’ wits and the folding hat, to which he pinned so large a faith. Leaving our camp standing, we began a hurried descent to the lower ground. I do not suppose that even at the outset we were more than six miles from Ruora’s village, and the desire to escape the attention of the
