The first raft, capable of supporting half the party in addition to half the stores, had just been completed when Bill ran into the village in a state of great excitement. In such a condition he seemed to lose almost all power of expression, and it was some time before John, even with Coja’s assistance, could make out what was the matter with him. Presently, however, he gathered that Bill had gone alone to the spot, a few miles away, where the ivory had been buried by the Arabs when fleeing from the "bad men." It was situated on a wooded knoll washed by the river. Scarcely had he reached the place when his extraordinarily keen sense of hearing apprised him that a number of men were fording the river, though he was not able at first to see them, owing to the trees. Immediately on hearing their approach, he swarmed up a tree--the same in which he had taken shelter years before--and from this coign of vantage he spied a large body of negroes gathered on the further bank. In a little while he saw, moving up the knoll, the party who had previously crossed: they were Swahilis, and their leader was the man whom he had already recognized as a member of the Arab safari. All carried spades or other implements. And then, helpless in the tree, the old man had had the agony to see the Swahilis dig up the ivory which had lain so long concealed: his ivory, the recovery of which had been his dream for years, a dream for whose realization he had counted on the assistance of the white men. The tusks had been laid only a foot or two below the surface, so that it was no great labour to unearth them. When they were all dug up, the men began to carry them down to the river, each tusk requiring four men. The intention was, Bill supposed, to transport them to the evacuated fort. He seized the opportunity when their backs were turned to slip down from his perch and run to the village: would not the wasungu even now strike a blow for him? This was a staggering piece of news. The knoll was up-stream; there was not much doubt that downstream the warriors whose village had been captured were marching up in pursuit of the safari. Probably they had already been met by fugitives from the village and informed of what had happened. It struck John that Juma and the chief might have fallen out, and that the Swahili had made a rapid dash northward to possess himself of the treasure while the "bad men" were absent from the neighbourhood. However that might be, there was no question but that both the Swahilis and the villagers were dangerous enemies, and would join forces to crush the little band who had defied and routed them. "We’re in the tightest place we have ever been in yet," said John. "They’ve got us between them. What on earth are we to do?" "Slip away, west or east?" suggested Ferrier. "Hopeless! Loaded as we should be, we couldn’t escape them. It’s too late to get on to the river now. This one raft won’t hold us all. We are done at last!"