of the jungle-people at once spied the trail left by the passage of the man and woman, and following it, they crowded down to the place where the dugout had been moored. Here they squatted on the ground and began to smoke.
“Rěj-ň-rēj!” they exclaimed, in the barbarous jargon of the jungle-folk. “Lost!" and then relapsed into silence.
"May she be devoured by a tiger!" snarled Ku-ish, the Porcupine, who was making guttural noises deep down in his throat; and at the word all his hearers. shuddered, and drew closer one to another. The curse is the most terrible that the jungle-people know; and if you shared your home with the great cats, as they do, you also would regard it with fear and respect. To speak of a tiger openly, in such a fashion, is moreover extraordinarily unlucky, as the monster, hearing itself mentioned, may look upon it. as an invitation to put in an immediate appearance.
Ku-ish said little more, for the Sâkai, when prey to emotion, make but a slight use of the meagre vocabulary at their command. He presently rose, however, and went back to the camp and unslung an exceedingly ancient matchlock, which was sus- pended from a beam in the roof of the headman's hut. It was the only gun which the tribe possessed, and was their most precious possession; but no one interfered with the Porcupine or tried to stay him when, musket on shoulder, he slipped into the forest. heading downstream.
Two days later, in the cool of the afternoon, Sentul
