"But it must be so." "Muata is right," said Mr.Hume.

"We have only entered the fringe, and already we are different people.

The lungs cry for pure air." "Yet there is a way," said Muata; and his eyes fell upon the tawny hide of the tree-lion.

"How, chief ?" "On top of the trees, not under!" cried Venning, who had seen that the chief was working up to some point.
Muata spread out his fingers gravely.

"Even so," he said.