Joe and Blake looked out on the queer throng of native porters. The Africans seemed a motley lot with which to venture into the interior of the jungle, far away from other white men, and entirely out of reach of such British law and force as ruled in that part of the big continent. “Some of them positively look as though they would enjoy doing a war dance around us,” suggested Blake. “That’s right,” agreed his chum. “And yet I suppose Sergeant Hotchkiss knows his business. He wouldn’t hire dangerous characters.” “Indeed no,” put in Mr. Duncan. “I warned him to be careful in the selection of our porters, and he assured me he would only get such as had been on safari before. I trust he has done so.” “He seems to know some of them, at any rate,” said C. C., for the former Boer soldier had gone out to the black men, leaving his employers to follow. “He’s talking and laughing with them,” went on the actor, “and they seem jolly enough. Look at Happy One, as he is called--the chap with the hyena skull on his head. He’s doing a regular two-step.” “And lots of them are singing,” observed Blake, as the notes of a strange and rather weird chant came to them. “By Jove, I know what I’m going to do,” declared Joe. “What?” asked his chum. “I’m going to make some moving pictures of them. They will go well as a sort of introduction to the views of wild animals we may get.” Blake agreed with this, and while Mr. Duncan was being formally presented to the porters as the ostensible head of the safari (it being decided to do this rather than have the boys pose as the proprietors) the lads got their moving picture machine ready. And as the big black men, with their fantastic dress and queer ornaments, paraded around Mr. Duncan, singing (as he learned later) his praises as one who would “give much meat,” the boys filmed the odd sight. “Queer they don’t seem to mind it a bit,” said Blake, as some of the blacks actually posed before the lens. “Oh, most of them have been on safari before,” explained the sergeant, as he heard this. “They have been with white men, some of whom hunted, while others took pictures, and, though the camera is much of a mystery to them, they don’t mind it in the least. But what do you think of them?” “An odd lot,” was Joe’s opinion, as he ceased grinding at the handle of the camera. “Can you trust them?” asked Blake. “I think so,” said the former soldier. “Of course, human nature is the same the world over. Some of the men are what are called ‘mission’ boys--that is, they have been Christianized, after a fashion. They are very good. The others can also be trusted, I think.” “And do they realize that we may come to a clash with the tribesmen who may have my daughter?” asked Mr. Duncan. “I have explained,” said the sergeant, “that there may be a fight.” “What did they say?” asked the anxious father. “They gave the best answer possible. They sharpened their spears, and looked to their shields.”