Pardon me for a short time while I discuss a little matter touching the reward for Muata with my friend Hassan." The two went off, the Arab casting a ferocious look back at the chief.
Venning tugged at the hunter's arm.

"Look," he whispered.
Muata was slipping down the post, as if his legs had utterly given way.

The party of new-comers were stacking their arms at the "indaba" house at the end of the square, and the village people were talking, laughing, and eating.

Muata reached the ground, but not in a state of collapse, for the next instant the two watchers saw him crawl to the shadow of a hut, where he remained as if stretching his limbs.
"Come," said Mr.Hume, in a fierce whisper, recovering from his surprise; and the two went swiftly to the river.
Compton had already cast off and was holding by the boat-hook.
"Bring her in." The Okapi ran her stern into the bank, and the two stepped aboard, Mr.Hume going forward to the wheel, with his rifle in his hand.
"Shove her off; run as silently as you can out of hearing, and then work the levers." Compton looked inquiringly at Venning as he picked up the oars, and then at the village, from which came a loud babble.
"Is he free already ?" Venning nodded.
"Good;" and then they bent themselves to the oars with every nerve on the quiver, and their eyes on the shore.
"Stop! Back-water!" Obediently they stopped the way of the boat and backed her, wondering what had gone wrong.

A turn of the wheel sent them in among the canoes.