I still remember the heart-rending, piercing wail I heard when I entered the camp; how his poor wife came rushing out to meet him, holding his hand and crying, "Husband, do speak to me--do speak to me once more!" But he never spoke again, for at last his heart ceased to beat, and he was dead. He had been killed by a gorilla. How sorry I was. I felt truly unhappy. They entreated me to give the poor fellow medicine. They seemed persuaded that I could prevent his dying; but I was far from my head-quarters, where all my medicines were, and I had nothing to suit his case. The people declared, with one accord, that it was no true gorilla that had attacked him, but a man--a wicked man that had been turned into a gorilla. Such a being no one could escape, for he can not be killed. The next morning I got up, and, taking my large bag, put into it provisions for three days, adding two or three pounds of powder, with forty or fifty large bullets. I took my best gun, and placed, as usual, my two revolvers in the belt fastened round my waist, then painted my hands and face with powdered charcoal, mixed with palm oil, so that I might appear black. I took Querlaouen with me, telling him that I must kill that gorilla. Querlaouen, at first, did not want to go, "for," said he, "we will never be able to kill that man gorilla." But Querlaouen always obeyed me. [Illustration: GAMBO'S FRIEND KILLED BY A GORILLA.] We proceeded at once into the thick of the jungle, making for the spot where the poor man had been mortally wounded. I felt very sorry when I saw the place where the man had been killed. A flush came over my face. "Thou shalt be avenged!" I muttered. I looked at my gun with ferocious joy; I held it up, and fondled it, and I must have looked fierce, for poor Querlaouen appeared terrified. "Yes," said I to Querlaouen, "I shall kill that very gorilla." I followed for a while the tracks of the beast by the marks of blood he had left on the trunks of the trees, but these became less and less noticeable as I removed from the scene of that sad catastrophe. Finally I lost those bloody hand-prints; but then I followed closely, and with great care, other marks he had left in the jungle as he went along. At times I would entirely lose these signs of the huge monster, then I would find them again. I lost them finally, and I searched and searched, but they were not to be seen. I had evidently gone astray. I was so annoyed, so disheartened; for I had set my heart on killing that gorilla, and I was on the point of giving up the chase. Querlaouen kept a few hundred yards from me, and he could see no traces of the gorilla.