But one of the yellow soldiers mumbled in a low voice to a companion:"I always have heard those sounds before--once at night when I was lostin the jungle, I heard the hairy men of the trees talking amongthemselves, and their words were like the words of this black man.I wish that we had not found him. He is not a man at all--he isa bad spirit, and we shall have bad luck if we do not let him go,"and the fellow rolled his eyes fearfully toward the jungle.

His companion laughed nervously, and moved away, to repeat theconversation, with variations and exaggerations, to others of theblack soldiery, so that it was not long before a frightful tale ofblack magic and sudden death was woven about the giant prisoner,and had gone the rounds of the camp.

And deep in the gloomy jungle amidst the unlitening shadows of thefalling evening a hairy, manlike creature swung swiftly southwardupon some secret mission of his own.

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