they caught sight of one another. The men from the fort saw
before them a hunting party evidently returning to its caves or
village laden with meat. They were large men with features
closely resembling those of the African Negro though their
skins were white. Short hair grew upon a large portion of their
limbs and bodies, which still retained a considerable trace of
apish progenitors. They were, however, a distinctly higher type
than the Bo-lu, or club-men.

Bradley would have been glad to have averted a meeting; but as he
desired to lead his party south around the end of the pool, and
as it was hemmed in by the jungle on one side and the water on
the other, there seemed no escape from an encounter.

On the chance that he might avoid a clash, Bradley stepped
forward with upraised hand. "We are friends, " he called in the
tongue of Ahm, the Bolu, who had been held a prisoner at the
fort; "permit us to pass in peace. We will not harm you."

At this the hatchet-men set up a great jabbering with much
laughter, loud and boisterous. "No," shouted one, "you will not
harm us, for we shall kill you. Come! We kill! We kill!"
And with hideous shouts they charged down upon the Europeans.

"Sinclair, you may fire," said Bradley quietly." Pick off
the leader. Can't waste ammunition."

The Englishman raised his piece to his shoulder and took quick
aim at the breast of the yelling savage leaping toward them.
Directly behind the leader came another hatchet-man, and with the