A great tree stood on one side of the swamp, and in its branches was a platform which an Englishman had occupied seven nights in a vain quest for lions some time before.

A little grass shelter was below the tree, and as we approached a Wanderobo darted out and ran in terror from us.

The Wanderobos are native hunters who live in the forests, and are as shy as wild animals.
So we could not question him as to Colonel Roosevelt's camp.

Later in the afternoon a native runner appeared from the direction of Sergoi with a message to the colonel, but he didn't know where the camp was and didn't seem to be in any great hurry to find out.

He calmly made himself the guest of one of our porters and spent the night in our camp, doing much more sitting than running.
On the morning of the fourteenth we marched toward the river, two hours away, the native runner slowly ambling along with us.