"I think he understands now," said the doctor. "Look; what does he mean by that?" For the little fellow in a series of gazelle-like leaps bounded to first one and then the other waggon, and came running back with his eyes flashing, to stand pointing as before right into the depths of the forest. This done, he made a mark in the sandy earth with the butt of his spear, and then walking backwards he drew a line as straight as he could for about fifty yards, keeping parallel with the edge of the forest, and ending by curving his line round till he reached the first trees. "What does he mean by that?" said Mark, as the little fellow came running back. "I think I know," said Dean. "So do I," cried Mark. "Here, Mak, what does this mean?" The black faced slowly to them from where he had been leaning against the tree watching as if amused, and raising his spear he walked importantly to the waggons, touching first one and then the other with his spear before turning and pointing right into the forest, and ending by drawing a similar line to that made by the little visitor. "Well, that's plain enough," said Mark excitedly. "I make it that the pigmy means that if we want to find the gold we must walk right round the other side of the forest; but Mak means that this is the way to find the big stones." "Big--stones--kopje," cried Mak, nodding his head sharply, and after pointing again with his spear he slowly described a semi-circle upon the earth. "Yes, I think you are right," said Sir James. "At any rate, doctor, we may as well try." "Certainly, sir," said the doctor, laughing. "But it's rather a queer way of learning our route. I agree with Mark, though, that both Mark and the pigmy mean the city, only the little fellow tries to tell us that we shall find the gold there, while Mak means the big stones." "Big stones!" cried Mak sharply, as he caught the words. "Boss--find-- big--stones;" and he waved his spear again after pointing towards the forest and then describing the route they must follow in the air. Mak watched the doctor eagerly, then turned to the little chief, said a word or two, and the little fellow passed on what was evidently an order to his followers, who began to move off, when a thought struck Mark and he caught the little chief by the arm and led him towards the second waggon. "Here, Dean," he cried, "jump in and get those two new spare knives out of the fore chest. Look sharp. I'm afraid to leave go. This fellow's all of a quiver with fright, and I am afraid he will bolt." "All right," was the reply, and leaving Mark and his prisoner waiting, the boy sprang up into the waggon, and came back with a couple of strongly made, buckhorn-handled, four-bladed pocket knives, one of which Mark slipped into his pocket, retaining the other in his hand. "You take my place," he said, "and hold tight. Don't let him go."