"Probably," said Sir James; "but we must make them understand our utter abhorrence of the deed, and threaten punishment for the act." "No, Sir James. Remember the old saying, Example is better than Precept. I feel sure that if we interfere with them with any stringency of action they will forsake us at once." "Well, boys," said Sir James, "I would rather give up the expedition at once and make our way back, than have such horrors as this occurring. Here, what does this mean?" he continued, for Mak came forward with his little companion, both looking joyous and jubilant, Mak talking away and putting in a word of English now and then--words which constituted "come", "show," and "gun." "Oh, that's plain enough, father," cried Mark. "They have got the gun." The little party followed the two blacks at once, and to their great surprise they were led into the temple square and across it till they were near to the big wall. Then both the doctor and Sir James stopped short. "This is too horrible," said Sir James angrily. "Come back, boys. They want to show us where they buried that unfortunate prowler." "I am glad of that," whispered Dean. "What horrible wretches these blacks are!" "Ugh! Yes," whispered back Mark, with a shudder. "Come along. I shall begin to hate myself for having been so friendly with them." The two blacks stood looking at one another in amazement, as they saw the others moving away. But directly after Mak literally bounded before them and began waving his hands as if trying to drive back a flock of sheep. "No go away!" he shouted. "No go. Gun! Gun! Gun!" And he pointed to the loose heap of sand and stones that had been piled over the old burial place. "What's that?" said the doctor. "Gun?" "Gun! Gun! Gun!" shouted Mak excitedly, and the little pigmy bounded on before them to the heap and began signing to them, pointing down the while. "Doctor! Uncle!" cried Dean. "I believe they mean that the gun is buried there." "Gun! Gun! Gun!" cried Mak, and he bounded after his little companion, to take his place on the other side of the heap, and began to imitate his gestures, looking at the boys now, and shouting, "Gun! Gun! Gun!" "Oh, do be quiet!" cried Mark angrily. Then in a questioning tone he looked at the blacks, pointed to the heap, and repeated the word. Both began to dance now with delight, pointing down and making signs as if scraping a hole in the heap before them. "Well," said Dean, "if the gun's there don't keep on dancing like a pair of black marionettes. Dig it out;" and he imitated the blacks' signs of scraping away the loose rubble. Mak nodded his head eagerly, and shrank back, a movement imitated by Pig. "No, no," said Mark; "don't go. Dig it out." The black looked at him enquiringly. "Dig?" he said. "Yes; both of you dig it out," cried Dean.