Sending the boat along steadily, for the sun had set and darkness would soon be coming, I thought of many things. My gaze rested on Fatty, who was now beginning to look about him a trifle more boldly. What should I do with the old fellow, provided we all got safely out of the country and once more mingled with men? How astonished he would be at the sights of steamers, railroad trains, cities, and the hurrying crowds of people! I could fancy his comical face, as he looked in my eyes, like a bewildered dog. Would it ever be possible to put him in clothes and have him about me? I knew he could learn many useful things, and even much of my speech, but whether a Missing Link could really be kept, as a servant, or friend, was a question requiring no little amount of thought. Of one thing I was certain, I would never under any circumstances permit him to become a freak, nor even an object of people’s idle curiosity. Poor old, faithful Fatty. By the time we arrived at Outlet river I felt that the darkness was sufficient to make it possible and safe for me to run the gauntlet past the camp of the Blacks. Cautiously I rowed the boat, bidding the goddess say nothing till we should be past the clearing. I could see that she had become pale and frightened, as we neared the place in which for long she had been a prisoner, but also there was ample evidence of her courage. Without a sound, we glided by the bank where twice I had beached the boat, and my heart beat with excitement as I thought of the gold, lying so short a carry away. “Get it—take it!” prompted a thought in my brain, “it will only take a moment and then you will be rich!” But I conquered; I crushed out the tempting voice and rowed slowly on. Proceeding across the river, to the side opposite the clearing of our foe, I watched for the camp, eagerly. We came sooner than I had expected to a point from which we could see the place. I looked, but was struck dumb with surprise. Not a fire did I see. I rested on the oars and listened; there was not a sound of the chattering Blacks. Daring to approach a trifle nearer, so great is human curiosity, I was still unable to discover a single sign of inhabitants on the flat where I had formerly seen them by the hundred. “I’m a fish,” said I, “if they haven’t deserted the camp!” They had gone, for a fact. There was not a Link of them left. They had fled, for what reason I could not even conjecture; and where they were was a question which I did not care to propound. It seemed to me that this lifted a great burden of worry from my shoulders. But as soon as I had made myself sure of the truth, my thoughts went flashing back to the bag of gold. If the Links were gone, I should run no risk in recovering the treasure. So potent did this idea become, that I immediately turned the boat back up the steam and began to row with vigour.