Evan appeared with his rifle ready, out of breath. "What's up?" he demanded. "The beast again?" Arthur swore hysterically. "The damned beast is here!" he cried. "It's _here_! It's hiding somewhere about!" We were all thoroughly reckless by now. We went after the huge ape with the temerity that would have made the blood of any of us run cold in a sober moment. We penetrated every corner of the house. We went over every bit of the grounds. We clambered upon the roof and searched there in foolhardy indifference to the danger we might be in if we only located the animal. "I think it was hiding in the servants' quarters," said Evan grimly. "I saw signs of its having been there. It must have grown shy when I explored the place and it probably slipped off toward the house to escape me. I don't see why it didn't make for the woods, though." None of us understood, but we went about our search as before. We found absolutely nothing. At last we stopped and stared at one another. "We would have killed it in another moment," said Arthur despairingly, "but the dog saw it and yelped. Then it ran." "Could it have made the woods before we got outside?" "Heaven only knows," said Arthur wearily. "I begin to believe the natives have bewitched the thing to kill us all." "How many dogs have we left?" asked Evan suddenly. There were four or five of Evan's animals, and one or two of the village dogs had begun to lurk about the house in hopes of food. There was none left for them in the deserted village. "We'll tie up the dogs," said Evan. "We'll fasten one on the veranda at the front, and another in the rear of the house. We'll put two on the ground below, tethered to the piles, and spread the others in the rooms here. Then the beast will have to kill them before it can get at as, and we'll have some warning." We began to improvise collars for the native dogs and scattered the others about as Evan had suggested. When we had finished, as far as we could see there was absolutely no way for the gorilla to emerge from his hiding place--if he were hiding in the house--without being instantly detected by a dog. Certainly, he could not reach the house from the bush without discovery and an alarm being given. With a dog in every room, dogs on the veranda, and others underneath the building, we should have felt safe, but did not. There was something uncanny in the appearances and disappearances of the monstrous ape that left us apprehensive even when we had taken every possible precaution to provide for its instant discovery if it made another attempt to reach us.