"Now, boys," said Mr. Hume, "you go to bed. I will watch here, and
in the morning, maybe, we will find out the mystery."

In the morning the steamer was on the yellow waters of the Congo,
and the boys forgot even about the strange couple in their first
view of the mighty river; but the sight of a native-manned canoe,
shooting out from the mist which hung in wisp over the waters,
recalled the incident. They found Mr. Hume in an easy-chair,
drinking his early morning cup of coffee, and at his feet,
stretching along the scuppers, was the canoe, still with its crew
aboard and asleep, though the jackal slept apparently with one eye
open. The canoe was, they saw, made out of a single tree-trunk, and
was thickly coated with the slime of the river, a heavy, sodden,
roughly shaped craft, most unlike the light boat that skimmed into
view from out the mist.

"What do you make of it?" said Mr. Hume, after the two boys had made
a long inspection.

"It seems to me," said Venning, "that the jackal has a very dark
coat."

"That is so; it is unusually dark. What does that suggest to you?"

"Well, as the colour is adapted to the nature of the country in
which the animal hunts, I should say that the jackal came from a
wooded district."

"Good. And what is your opinion, Compton?"