One of the Europeans lay in the bows while the other was stretched at his ease in the stern, reclining on the canvas of a neatly folded tent.

The last-named was evidently the leader of the little expedition, while the manner and attitude of the man in the bows suggested the servitude of a disciplined soldier slightly relaxed by abnormal circumstances.
"Who fired that shot ?" inquired Durnovo, when there was no longer any necessity to shout.
"Joseph," replied the man in the stern of the boat, indicating his companion.

"Was it a near thing ?" "About as near as I care about--it threw up the dust between my legs." The man called Joseph grinned.

Nature had given him liberally of the wherewithal for indulgence in that relaxation, and Durnovo smiled rather constrainedly.

Joseph was grabbing at the long reedy grass, bringing the canoe to a standstill, and it was some moments before his extensive mouth submitted to control.
"I presume you are Mr.Durnovo," said the man in the stern of the boat, rising leisurely from his recumbent position and speaking with a courteous savoir-faire which seemed slightly out of place in the wilds of Central Africa.