rising from cooking-fires.

"I have no weapons," he said.

"We cannot help that," said Mr. Hume, with indifference. "Either
you agree to take us to the Place of Rest, or you land."

Muata rose up, looked under the flat of his hand all around, then
let the cotton sheet they had given him slip to the deck. The jackal
started up, with his ears pricked and his eyes fixed on his master's
face. The chief caught hold of a wire rope and jumped on to the
rail, where he steadied himself.

"What will you do?" asked Mr. Hume.

Muata turned round and pointed to the otter on his chest.

"You don't mean to say," said Venning, indignantly, "that you are
going to let him swim ashore? Why, the bank is miles away, and the
crocodiles are in between."

Muata's glance fell on the jackal, and he spoke to it. The animal
whined, then crouched.

"A favour, my father," he said. "If the beast followed me, he would
be food for the crocodiles. Place him on land when you reach the
bank, for the sake of good hunting."

"I will do so."