"I’ll stop that. I’ll go and pick my men and make ’em go to sleep. Wake me at five, there’s a good chap. By Jove! Wouldn’t my old dad be in a stew if he knew what was up! We’re risking a lot when you come to think of it; but we’ve been lucky so far, and with rifles and plenty of ammunition I fancy we’ll win through. If I’m not back within two or three days you had better make tracks for the farm. Don’t forget to wake me at five." "All right. Pleasant dreams!" Precisely at five o’clock John was roused, to find ready for him a breakfast of steaming stew and baked millet cakes. Ferrier had also prepared a litter for the prisoner, whose wound forbade him to walk. At half-past five the little company set off, consisting of John and the Wanderobbo, and twenty of the villagers. John had his rifle, a spare one being carried by a man at his side. Only two of the other men had ever handled firearms; these were given rifles, and carried the ammunition in little bundles slung to their backs. John had filled his bandolier and his pockets with cartridges. Ferrier said good-bye to him at the gate of the boma, and started the men left behind in a rousing cheer. The party marched very rapidly, John at the head with Bill and the litter-bearers, so that the prisoner might keep them in the right way. They followed the course of the stream for about a mile; then forded it, and made across a stretch of grassland, in which, as the morning advanced, they started large numbers of game. Just before noon they reached the river of which the prisoner had spoken, a slow, gurgling current of red water. Here they halted for a meal of beans and millet; then after an hour’s rest set forth again. They had gone but a short distance up-stream when, as they ascended a slight acclivity, Bill was seized with intense excitement. Pointing to a flat-topped hill many miles away, he cried that it was there the Arab safari was attacked, and near by the ivory was hidden. A projecting spur to the right was the site of the shambas whence the people had pounced out to the assault. His own old home lay half a day’s journey beyond the hill.