"It would seem not," replied the naturalist, "their wings only serve
as gliders. Possibly once in the remote ages they could fly as well
as great birds but with the course of the ages and disuse their
wings have dwindled."

As may, be imagined the idea that within a short time they were to
be in the country of the mysterious tribe caused a tremendous stir
among the boys and when after breakfast their strange friend of the
night before, Sikaso, appeared they at once overwhelmed him with
questions. But strangely enough Sikaso made no reply to their eager
queries.

He shook his great bead and seemed to be embarrassed, if not by fear
at any rate by reticence.

"In Misoto Mountains many strange Ju-jus (fetishes)," he said in an
awed tone, "Misoto Mountains no good for white boys--white boys stay
away."

"Not much," chimed in Harry, "that's just where we are going."

"You go Misoto Mountain," said the giant black in an astonished
tone.

"That's what we are," exclaimed Lathrop.

The black gazed at the ground and drew a small circle on the dust
with his toe. In the center of it he made a cross.