"Why, the savages," he said. "They've spied on us. We'd better go back for our spears and things." I agreed that this was a prudential measure, and we trudged hastily down again to the canoe, and took our spears and bows and arrows, and then retraced our steps, the dog accompanying us. We crept up with exceeding caution until we reached a spot whence we could overlook the hollow in which our house was situated; but or ever we got there we were aware of a red glow, as from a huge fire, and when we came to the summit of the crest and looked down the long slope towards the hut, near half-a-mile away, we saw that in front of it a very large fire was kindled, which lit up all the country around, and on the fringe, so to speak, of the illuminated space certain dark figures moved. "They've made the fire ready to cook us," says Billy, his voice trembling very much. "Nay, they're cooking already," I said, and showed him that they had set our great tripod over the fire, and something dangled from it roasting. [Illustration: Our Tripod] "They've stole one of our pigs," said Billy in great anger; indeed, his first fear was now swallowed up in this new emotion. He spoke pretty loud, and the dog, knowing from his manner that something was amiss, began to yelp. I bade Billy hold his peace, for we must creep silently towards the house and discover who these visitors were: and since the dog might betray us if he yelped as we approached, we thought it best to tie him to a tree; he would doubtless yelp there, but the visitors would suppose he was a wild dog. We had just left him tied up when I remembered that if his yelping brought the wild dogs about him he would very soon be torn in pieces, so we had to go back and loose him, and then Billy took him in his arms and said he would keep him quiet, which he did.