Stephen uttered an exclamation of horror and disgust. “Do you mean to say that they are cannibals, Wilcox?” “In course I can’t say for certain, Master Steve. Some of these tribes are cannibals and some ain’t, and I reckon by what I see going on that those villains are. Are you a good climber, sir?” “Do you mean climbing a tree. I have never had much practice at that, Wilcox, but I dare say I could manage it.” “Well, sir, you are lighter and more active than I am, and I was thinking that if you could get up to the top of this tree you would have a view down over the village. The leaves are pretty thick, and as the niggers are busy there is not much chance of their looking about for a man up a tree. You see the village ain’t above a hundred and fifty yards away, and the ground ain’t more than twenty feet above the river. I should say that this tree was seventy or eighty feet high, so that from the top you can get a view pretty well over the place; if there is one of our chaps there he may be lying tied up somewhere. Of course he might be in a hut, but it is much more likely that they would have just chucked him down until they wanted him. I think if you got on my shoulder you would be able to get hold of that lowest branch where it bends down, and climb along it to the trunk; after that the branches come pretty thick together.” “I think I could manage that easily enough.” “Well, then, here goes,” the sailor said, and took up his post beneath where the bough was lowest. “If you can’t reach it from my shoulder, sir, you step on my head. I can hold you easy enough. You keep the trunk as far as possible between you and the village.” “The leaves are thick up high,” Steve said, looking up at the tree; “directly it gets above the level of these smaller trees it spreads its branches out well.” “Now, jump upon my back, sir, and then climb upon my shoulders. You had best take hold of my hands to steady yourself.”