Working unceasingly, the job took them till well on into the afternoon, when they rested a while; then, with their knives in hand, set off to work their way back to the clearing.

All they had to do was to follow the river.

It was simple enough in theory, but in practice it was a tough job, as they had to struggle every foot of the way, squirming and crawling.
When they heard Compton's hail they had come to the conclusion that the forest was a trap, its mysteries a delusion, and its general qualities altogether disgusting.
"You have been a time!" shouted Compton, as the two, hot, red-faced, and tattered, stepped out and straightened themselves up with hands to the small of the back.
"I'm as hungry as three, and have been under a terrific strain to keep from eating the finest and fattest baked 'possum you ever saw.
Come on." "'Possum ?" said Venning, hurrying forward.

"There are no 'possums in Africa." "Well, it's something." "Smells nice." "Sit down--sit down, and we'll find out what it is afterwards." They sat down with sighs of relief, and the "'possum" disappeared without a word being spoken.
"Beggar was eating earth-nuts over there, and I bowled him over with a stick.

See, there's his skin--long tail and sharp face." "Monkey," said Mr.Hume.
"Prehensile tail," muttered Venning, examining that appendage.
"Anyway, it was good.